“[W]hen family demands significantly exceed their capabilities…families experience crisis, which is a period of significant disequilibrium and disorganization in a family. A crisis is very often a turning point for a family, leading to major change in their structure, interaction patterns, or both. A crisis can lead to a discontinuity in the family's trajectory of functioning either in the direction of improved functioning or poorer functioning” - Joän M. Patterson
Part I
“Carrie, hold your brother’s hand please.” My mother told my sister sternly. I thought the please was useless to be honest. Carrie does what Carrie wants. Right now she was clenching her jaw and refusing to even look at Kyle. Inwardly I groaned. There was no telling how this standoff would go down, or for how long. If my father were here it would be resolved within five minutes. But, of course he wasn’t here now.
“Hold your brother’s hand so we can say grace Carrie.” My mother said. Kyle held out his hand, almost shoving it in her face. He really didn’t like being ignored. Carrie reached over him and held my hand.
“Not Sean, your other brother.” Mom told Carrie.
I gave a pained smile to my girlfriend Lisa sitting next to me and mouthed ‘sisters’ to her, adding an eyeroll. She closed her lips on a smile and gave my hand a squeeze. Carrie crossed her arms and leaned closer to mom, mumbling something, though all I heard was the word pinch.
“I did not! Mom, she lies!” Kyle said, getting up to his knees on the chair.
Oh shit, I thought, here it goes. This was bound to turn into something now. Why tonight of all nights? This was so embarrassing; this was exactly why I had made all those excuses to Lisa about why she couldn’t come over. One freaking night, that was all I wanted, one freaking night that didn’t end up in shouting and tears. I wanted to sink into the floor.
Part II
My mother looked at Carrie warily, it wasn’t like she hadn’t lied about something Kyle had done before, if her toys were lying around Kyle did it, if there was a new dent in the wall it was Kyle, and any minor scrape or missing stuffy was Kyle too. It drove us all frickin’ nuts. Mom leaned towards Carrie to respond but loud screaming made her turn back. Kyle was already crying, most of his little body sprawled across the table, his hands grabbing fistfuls of cloth and thrashing so that he looked like he was trying to swim in his spaghetti. My mom jumped up and rushed to his end of the table.
“Kyle, sit up! Look what you’re doing to your shirt!” My mom said panicked.
She had that edge in her voice, frustrated and angry, but struggling to contain it. It always made my muscles feel achy.
I wished for the hundredth time that my father was home.
Kyle struggled and held on to the tablecloth, kicking and gasping for air like a bad impression of Michael Phelps. Mom tried to pry the cloth out of his little hands, but he twisted away and when she picked him up, the cloth and everything on it slid past us. Lisa and I scrambled to our feet, trying to pick up the nearest plates or glasses. Carrie squeaked as a plate of once-hot-spaghetti fell on her sweater leaving trails of red as the noodles slithered down.
It actually would have been kind of funny if Kyle hadn’t been full on screaming and hitting mom wherever he could reach.
“Kyle, stop it. Stop hitting mommy Kyle!” My mother said, that same desperate edge in her voice.
I glared at my sister and moved to my mom’s side.
Part III
“Ma, give him to me.” I said. Kyle swung and socked me in the jaw with an upward flail of his fist. My teeth clashed together hard and I felt them slice through a flabby piece of lip. I gritted my teeth and squinted against the pain. Lisa would not see me cry. Kyle’s tears were long gone now, just energy left.
“Sean! You’re bleeding!” My mom said. I wished she wouldn’t sound so helpless.
“I’m fine mom!” I snapped.
She put Kyle down and I lead him to the lounge, more like dragged, he held on to everything he could on the way there, walls, lamps, cupboards. I sat him on the couch and leaned down. I gave Kyle my best older-brother stare down. I held his arms at his sides, and the twerp tried to fight me, even gave me a smirk. I gripped his arms tighter, maybe even a bit too tight, he whined.
“Kyle stop it. You are hurting mom. That is not cool. She’s not going to read to you tonight if you hurt her.” I told him. Kyle calmed down almost immediately.
“I want mom to read to me!” Kyle pouted. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he’s just four, even if he is a pain in the ass.
“Then you gotta calm down. You’re gonna put your pajamas on, okay?” Kyle wiggled in his seat.
“How long is she going to be here Sean?” Kyle asked looking over my shoulder. I looked back, Kyle was pointing at my girlfriend Lisa. I sighed, I knew he wouldn’t like me bringing her here. The kid did not like change.
“I don’t know, an hour or two? It doesn’t matter.” I said getting up Kyle grabbed my hand and sat on the ground, trying to keep me there.
“Let go dude, you have to go put on your pj’s.” I said.
“But I don’t want to put them oooooooonnnnn.” Kyle whined. My mom walked into the lounge, spaghetti sauce on her shirt and a splash or two giving her red freckles on her face.
“It’s okay Sean, I can get him ready. Thanks for your help honey, you’re a star.” She said patting me on the back. I sighed under the weight of the compliment. I knew I’d be a ‘super star’ if I finished cleaning the mess that Kyle’s tantrum had made but, screw it. Lisa was still here.
Bracing myself for the sympathy I walked back into the kitchen.
Part IV
Lisa was in the kitchen holding some plastic cups and looking lost. I scratched the back of my head.
“Hey.” I said giving her a nod. She gave me a shy smile.
“Hey. I was helping your mom but, I don’t know where…” she said, holding up the cups. I took them and put them away.
The kitchen smelled like parmesan cheese. I wondered how long the floor would be stained red for. It was a cheap linoleum that never seemed to let anything go. I absently scuffed the floor where I had accidently spilled a glass of wine the adults had been drinking at Christmas.
“So.” She said leaning against a chair. She stepped back when she realized the chair still had some stray noodles on it.
“So.” I said, bobbing my head, and not looking her in the eye.
I could feel my face heating up as she watched me. Part of me wanted her to go away, wanted to go play GTA and forget this had happened and never talk to her again so she wouldn’t bring it up.
The other part of me really wanted her to stay, to tell me that family straight up sucked and then make out for an hour before her mom came to pick her up. But there probably wasn’t a non-creepy way to skip to making out.
So I stood there. Bobbing my head like a moron. It was quiet.
“Hey where did Carrie go?” I asked. Lisa nodded to the stairs.
“She went to change.” Lisa said. I nodded.
“That was…kinda crazy.” Lisa said, laughing awkwardly. I laughed awkwardly too, tonight actually wasn’t that bad.
“Is it…is it always like that?” Lisa asked shuffling closer. I shrugged. What was I supposed to say? Yes? Sometimes worse?
I heard clomping on the stairs and looked up to see my sister.
Part V
"Oh... my gosh." I heard Lisa mutter. Oh my gosh was right. My sister had clomped down the stairs in my mothers boots, that reached above Carrie’s knees, a short skirt (only made short because she’d pulled it up so high, a tank top and one of my mom’s sweaters, that was more like a dress on my nine-year-old sister. It was basically what Lisa was wearing, only my sister looked like a baby stripper. I glanced at Lisa, who was obviously lost for words. I burst out laughing.
“What the hell are you wearing Carrie?” I asked between laughter. Carrie’s face went bright red, and she turned, racing back up the stairs. She tripped on the too-big boots and her skirt flipped up, revealing her mickey mouse underwear, I laughed harder. Lisa looked at me frowning. Upstairs Carrie slammed her door shut.
“Oh man, can you believe that?” I asked Lisa. I thought she would laugh too, we would forget all about the epic dinner disaster, and chalk it up to one crazy night. But Lisa didn’t laugh, she just looked at me with fierce disappointment. My laughter felt like it was choking me. I swallowed.
“Maybe you should go talk to her Sean, she seemed really hurt.” Lisa suggested quietly. Why did Lisa have to make a big deal out of this? I thought she would be on my side. I took her hand, trying to lead her away. We still had some time before her mom came to get her, I didn’t want to spend it sitting awkwardly beside my crying little sister trying to apologize.
“Come on Lisa, she’s just…sensitive! She’ll get over it, besides, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want me around right now, or like, ever.” I said laughing. I tugged on her hand a bit. Besides, what did Lisa know about siblings? She was an only child, with a perfect family, she wouldn’t get it, I knew she wouldn’t. Lisa pulled her hand away.
“If my brother had laughed at me like that, I also would have run away crying. But I still wanted him around.” Lisa said, turning away from me. I was shocked. Lisa stood there, back turned for a few moments and then walked back to the kitchen and picked up some dishes in the sink. Every now and then she wiped her eyes on her shoulder. Okay. I had obviously friggin’ missed something. Was she mad at me? Sad? I glanced upstairs, my mom was probably still putting Kyle to sleep, or trying. Should I go talk to Carrie now? Stay with Lisa? Leave? I scratched my head, and chose to wander into the kitchen, standing by the sink, a safe distance away from Lisa in case she wanted to like, hit me or something.
“Um… I…I didn’t know you had a brother. You never mentioned him.” I said. Lisa stopped washing the clean plate. She didn’t look at me.
“He’s not around anymore.” She said. I scratched my neck.
“Like, he’s at… college or something?” I asked. Lisa looked at me, tears barely contained she laughed, but it sounded like someone kicked the air out of her. I didn’t know what to do, or what the hell that meant. Was he dead? Missing? Lisa stepped towards me, and I panicked, but she didn’t hit me, she wrapped her soapy wet hands around my waist and hugged me. I hugged her back, and I felt her tears and hot breath soak my t shirt. Some tears slipped down the front of my shirt, traveling to meet their soapy wet cousins at my waist. It felt like we stood like that forever. Lisa crying, and me rubbing her back the way I thought they would in movies. The doorbell rang, and Lisa left. Her mom saw Lisa’s red puffy face, and the tears and gave me a horrified, angry look.
I looked around the almost clean kitchen, there were still stray worms of spaghetti on the floor, a couple dishes at the sink, and the tablecloth was skew. I wondered what my dad would do if he was here, if he still wanted to be here. Sometimes I wanted to leave too, instead of being the one that held it all together. I looked at the door and thought of Lisa, she squeezed my hand before she left. I wiped my hand on my shirt, wiped my eyes on my shoulder and walked upstairs to sit awkwardly with my crying little sister.
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