The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County Read online

  “Just picturing Grandma’s face when we show up,” I lie. Have I mentioned how terrible of a liar I am? I call shit like I see it and clearly that’s gotten me real fucking far in life.

  “Mom,” Sadie presses knowing that I’m fibbing.

  “Sadie.” I mimic her and my ass is saved from the hot seat when our waitress brings us our food. My little girl’s eyes light up when the waitress places the Salisbury steak in front of us. Truck stop food has been great, but I’m ready to have a decent, healthy meal.

  In a weird way, I know shit will be just fine. Sadie never needs to know how life has been a struggle the last four years, or that we were nearly broke and Luis was being sued for every penny that we did manage to rub together. She definitely doesn’t need to worry about the fact she’ll be a big sister in nine months, nor about the all enemies I have waiting for me in Beaver Falls.

  No, my girl just needs to worry about her gravy coating the perfectly golden fries and she needs to understand the importance of not announcing to every random person in truck stops across the USA, that I was once a triple crown holder of the title Miss. Beaver.

  Chapter Two

  Jesus Take The Wheel- Two Hours Out

  “I hope I get to be a beauty queen like you.”

  I mindlessly acknowledge Sadie’s comment and mentally prepare myself for rolling back into Beaver Falls.

  “I still don’t get why you’re not proud of being Miss Beaver. I can’t wait to have that title.”

  A blossoming storm of anxiety begins brewing low in my gut. “Sadie, it’s okay once we’re back in Beaver Falls, but others don’t understand.”

  “Why, Momma?” Sadie swivels in her seat to stare me down.

  “Beavers are just…”

  “Beavers are what, mom?”

  “It’s just an animal that can have a double meaning with women.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, beavers like to eat wood and…you know what, Sadie, never mind.”

  “Mom, your beaver must’ve ate lots of wood and had really sharp teeth for you to win the title three years in a row.”

  I can’t help but laugh at how she puts everything together.

  “Yep, I had a healthy beaver back in the day,” I reply, with a huge smile covering my face.

  “I bet it had really sharp teeth and went through the wood,” she repeats

  “Oh yes, my beaver loved wood day and night.”

  “When will I get my own beaver? ‘Cause I need to get it real healthy with shiny hair because I’ll be the next triple crown Miss Beaver.”

  “Oh, honey, soon enough.”

  I watch Sadie type out beaver on her iPhone and can only assume she’s beginning her adventure in beaver training. I grip the steering wheel tighter thinking about her future in Beaver Falls, and the possibility of her attending school with some of my former classmates’ kids. The blossoming anxiety has morphed into a full-raging panic attack that I have to keep tucked in.

  But then the horrible thought of her finding her own Douchey Doug paralyzes me. My God, she’s going to have her heart shattered and more life lessons taught to her from her own Douchey Doug. What if he has kids in her grade? I’ll fry his nuts in a goddamn frying pan and then cut his ding-dong off. My first love, the man who shattered my heart, and ran me out of Beaver Falls will always be Satan. Next to, of course, Moira who I hate even more than Doug himself.

  The first green sign comes into view with Beaver Falls on it. Seventy-three miles until I roll into home sweet home. My eyes sting with exhaustion, I decided to drive all night and let Sadie sleep. She’s been a trooper on the road and I didn’t want her to suffer another long day of driving. Not much sightseeing now unless you enjoy fields and fields of farmland.

  The miles fly by as Sadie researches beavers and then we hit the county line of Beaver County. My stomach dips and I’m pretty sure it’s not my peanut growing in there. The old water tower comes into sight first, and then gas station at the end of town.

  Beaver Falls consist of one main road, Beaverton Boulevard, and then several avenues that spur off it. It’s a one-horse town where you can get from point a to point b on foot…no car required.

  “We are here, Sissy.”

  Sadie perks up peering out of the window. I’d give anything to analyze her reaction, but keep my eyes on the road. Nothing has changed, as I slowly pass by the familiar pharmacy and grocery store. It’s like I’ve been swept away back in time.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Mom, language.” Sadie whirls to face me.

  “Un-fucking-believable.” My blood boils on cue when my I make eye contact with the whore. And when I say nothing has changed it seems I’ve won the lottery. Her long, lean, and tan legs exposed, a tiny dress covering her mid-section, and then everything but her areola and nipples poking from the top of the material. My nemesis, Satan’s cunt also known as Moira Dawn or the town’s quickie stop; she made my high school years hell.

  Without thinking, I roll down the window, bring my car to a slow stop, and glare her down. The self-centered bitch doesn’t even notice. Nope, she’s fixated with her reflection in a store window adjusting her girls in her dress.

  “Moira.”

  I wait for her to turn around, recognize me, and then I slowly smile back at her as I raise both hands and send her the bird.

  “Guess you’ve taken the title of town slut seriously over the years.”

  She squints her eyes and then shades the morning sun with her hand. I watch as my presence dawns on her.

  “Blanche,” she coos. “The town failure. Welcome home.”

  If my blood was boiling before, I’m now seeing red and thirsty to strangle the bitch.

  “Hope you’ve enjoyed my sloppy seconds with Douchey Doug.”

  I don’t wait for her reply before slamming on the gas pedal and peeling out on the main road. You could hear a pin drop on the inside of my car. I finally turn to Sadie to see her with her jaw dropped open in shock.

  “I hated her in high school. She stole my boyfriend, Doug, and she is a whore.”

  “Mom.” Sadie swallows.

  “Sorry, Sissy, but she is the one person that I’ll never forgive.”

  “Did you love Doug?”

  “I did.” I slow down when the tattered Beloved Beaverton Burials and Taxidermy sign comes into sight. Taxidermy, what in the hell?

  “I’m sorry, mom.”

  “It’s all good, Sadie.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I wouldn’t want life to be any other way because I have you. I’ll just never forgive her for what she did to me.”

  “Did she ever win Miss Beaver?”

  “Oh hell no, her beaver was well-used and disgusting.” I stop at the one and only four-way stop in town. “Don’t you worry about her. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that, but…”

  “I know, angry can be bad.”

  I ruffle her hair and then focus back on the road. “I love you, girl.”

  Two buildings away from my childhood home and when I look closer, I spot the beauty shop on the corner has a new name. It used to be called “Frannie’s”, but now it’s “Queenie’s”. The sign has hot pink, lime green, and cheetah print covering it with a tagline underneath Queenie’s, “Meow”.

  “That’s new,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Uh? Mom.”

  “Nothing. Look there’s the house I grew up in.” I point to the three story Victorian home. It’s in pristine condition painted a light yellow with gray trim and a perfect white fence bordering the small front lawn. I eye mom’s hanging baskets blooming with purple and pink petunias. Dad’s favorite maple trees strong and steady in the front yard. The hours spent up in those trees with childhood friends and the endless games we played in the front yard.

  The days spent chasing my younger brother, Brady, up and down the stairs and out into the guesthouse. We loved running through the chapel, but stopped after tipping over Mr. Coopman’s casket. I can’t help the light chuckle that escapes me remembering Brady’s face.

  “Mom.”

  I pry my stare from reminiscing about my childhood memories on the front lawn and look over to my daughter. Sadie’s face is puzzled and I know her endless questions are about to fire.

  “It’s a funeral home. You weren’t kidding, Mom.”

  “Nope, sweetie, I wasn’t. The house is on a separate level, the upper level actually, and you’d never know it was attached.”

  “Will I see any dead bodies?”

  “No, not even close. It’s all separate.”

  “But it’s one house?”

  “You’ll see.” I pull into the narrow paved driveway between the house and the next business, and kill the engine of the SUV. The familiar brick walls of the small pharmacy next to us eases my nerves a bit. Beaver Falls has to be one of the tiniest functioning towns in the USA. Hell, you don’t even need a damn car to live here. The sound of mom’s favorite chimes flow in the wind and I take in one long look at the house.

  It’s gorgeous and pristine, and everything I could imagine. Nobody would know it was a funeral home until closer inspection. My dad always made sure the history of the building was respected, and the intricate carvings in the wood were dusted and polished up.

  I hop from the car and stretch as high as I can reach, throwing back my head and soaking up the fresh air and sunshine. The slight breeze tickles the exposed skin on my belly. I hear Sadie’s door shut and her footsteps over to my side of the car, and then I’m assaulted with voices.

  “Never thought I’d see this sight.”

  I may have been gone for over a decade, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere, Brady, my one and only sibling.

  “Brady,” I squeal and run into his arms, hugging him
tight.

  “Welcome home, sis.”

  He wraps his strong arms around me, squishing me to him. His familiar scent assaults me along with his deep chuckle and my tears spill over. When I take a step back, I take a moment to gather myself and wipe away the tears. He has the same chestnut colored hair as me and identical emerald eyes, growing up everyone thought we were twins even though Brady was two years younger than me. He quickly grew taller than me and then surpassed my height by high school.

  We had the typical love hate relationship like any other siblings had. But we also both kicked a little ass for each other during our high school years. Handfuls of red hair and a week of school suspension is just one example of me kicking ass for him. I don’t even remember the bitch’s name that tried to break up Brady and Luna. And I heard several stories about Brady making sure that Douchey Doug didn’t walk for months after breaking my heart.

  The biggest difference between us is Brady loves Beaver Falls and everything it represents. He always has. I’m surprised he’s not the damn mayor by now.

  “This must be Sadie.” Brady kneels down in front of my daughter.

  Sadie only nods her head in a shy fashion.

  “You’re replica of your mother.” He holds his arms wide open. “Give your Uncle Brady a hug, squirt.”

  I fumble for my phone and capture the perfect shot of the two of them meeting for the first time.

  “Ready Brady?” A tall, blonde, and very muscular man rounds the corner of the house joining us on the front lawn.

  My eyes drink him in, appreciating his brawny muscles, deep-olive skin, and piercing blue eyes. I guess some things have changed around here. The man looks like he’s stepped right off of Calvin Klein commercial. Why in the hell would he have moved to here of all places?

  “Blanche.” The man nods in my direction.

  “Hi.” I sheepishly wave back in his direction and guess that Brady must’ve told him I was coming.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  I choke on my own spit and fumble for a name, wracking my brain. Blond hair, strong jaw line, fit like an Olympic God nothing comes to me. Doug? Hell no, Doug had dark brown hair and a mole on the side of his neck.

  “Are you sure we’ve met?” I finally ask.

  Brady erupts in deep laughter. “Take it easy on her. She’s been gone over ten years.”

  Brady scoops Sadie up in his arms and heads for the steps of the front door. Instantly, I begin to panic and want to follow them, but then again a hunk is standing in front of me.

  “Oh, you know me.” He steps in closer and plucks a sunflower seed from my hair. “Clancy Bogart.”

  “Clancy?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to shove my foot any further down my throat before he turns around and walking off. Before he gets in his truck he hollers over his shoulder, “Welcome home, Blanche.”

  Clancy Bogart. No fucking way that is Clancy Bogart.

  His tight ass mesmerizes me as he saunters out to the sidewalk and to his black Ford truck.

  “Feel like an ass yet?” I turn around to see Brady standing on the front steps.

  “No way that’s Clancy Bogart.”

  “Yep, live in the flesh.”

  “The Clancy who had a crush on me?”

  Brady nods walking towards me.

  “Buck tooth and knock kneed Clancy?”

  “Yep.”

  “One nutted Clancy?”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s hot and still has one nut?”

  Brady chuckles. “Of course he still has one nut. I don’t know what they do out in L.A., but here in Beaver Falls we don’t grow testicles.”

  “Poor guy. He was so ugly and then when he lost his nut in a wrestling accident at state freshman year it was like his third strike with the ladies.”

  “Yeah, he’s never dated since high school. The whole town thinks he’s still hung up on you.”

  “Shut-up.” I shove Brady’s chest.

  “Sis, he’s a good guy. Helping me out on a side job.”

  “What are you scheming up now?”

  “None of your business and you’d better get your city ass in the house before mom tackles you out here. They’ve probably scared the shit out of Sadie by now.”

  “You’re right. Shit.” I bound for the front steps still stupefied from Clancy Bogart. Holy hell didn’t see that one coming.

  The screeching from the screen door hinge draws me back to the present and the fact I’m returning to Beaver Falls a loser, divorced, knocked-up, and very poor at the moment. Maybe Brady will have a new business plan we can make work out. Even though, I hadn’t seen my little brother in over ten years, we kept up our weekly correspondence.

  “Blanche.” The toe curling, high pitch squeal could only be produced by one lady on this planet and that would be my mother.

  “Mom,” I squeal right back. She hasn’t aged a bit. Her chestnut hair shows no signs of grey and is piled up in her beehive bun on the top of her head. She’s decked out in her favorite costume jewelry and her nails are painted the signature fire cherry red. I can only hope my breasts are as firm and perky as hers when I’m her age. God, please let the genetics be on my side.

  She quickly lets go of me. “Now, sit. Luna and the kids will be up in a second. Dad will be here shortly as well. I have lunch all ready to go.”

  She practically shoves me down in a dining room chair and it happens to be the same spot I always sat at growing up.

  “Oh, Sadie.” My mom bends down to place a kiss on the tip of Sadie’s nose. Tears well up in her eyes. “My heart is finally full and happy. My girls are home.”

  I’ve seen my mom cry twice in my whole entire life; when Brady lost state wrestling his freshman year and the day I left town. She’s a tough cookie.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” I stand again and wrap her up in a tight hug.

  “Blanche, never leave us again.”

  “I won’t, mom.” It’s something I shouldn’t have said. It’s a selfish move, but it hurts too much to see her cry.

  “Now, sit Blanche. My Sadie Girl and I are going to go round up the troops.”

  I watch the two bustle out of the dining room into the kitchen and then I hear the back screen slam shut. I didn’t miss the traumatized look covering Sadie’s features, but I know she’s in good hands. I know she’s gone over to Brady and Luna’s house. They live in a tiny cottage connected to the back of the morgue. It’s pathetic to think it used to be Brady and my playhouse and now it’s home.

  The sound of my mom calling Sadie, “Sadie Girl” warms my heart. It’s an odd feeling to process since Sadie has been the only person to do that to me over the years. Tears build up in the corner of my eyes and I curse out loud.

  Fucking pregnancy hormones.

  My childhood home looks, feels, and smells the same way it always has. I stand and walk over to my mother’s china cabinet and peer at the pictures of Brady and I from our younger days. Toothless and content smiles stare back at me from every single black and white snapshot.

  I never wanted for anything growing up. Homecoming queen, Miss Beaver, senior class president, loving parents, and yet I ran and wanted more, like a fucking snot nosed brat. For the first time, I experience full-on shame and guilt for not loving the ways of Beaver Falls. I’d lose my shit if Sadie ever up and ditched her past like I did mine.

  My palms protectively cover my lower abdomen as I move on to the fishing pictures with my dad, then to the community picnic with both our parents beaming proudly with their two children in front of them.

  “They worked their asses of for us two kids,” I whisper to myself.

  Carefully, I wipe the dust from the top of the Sterling Silver frame with the picture of my dad and I at my first daddy daughter dance. A robin egg blue, lacey dress adorned with pearls envelopes me with Dad at my side in his typical funeral home shirt and tie. Sadie will never have this with her dad. What have I done?

  A vortex of emotions rage through me, from happiness to anger until I become dizzy from my own confusion, finally I sit down at my spot at the table and lay my head down. I can smell the road trip on my unwashed hair, my eyelids grow heavy as I try to calm myself down. The relaxation doesn’t last long…

  “Where’s my Blanche Girl?” A deep voice booms through the house.

  The emotions win over and I bawl like the little Blanche did the day her dad helped her bury, Cotton, her favorite cat in the backyard. I let all my problems and stress stream down my cheeks, and run into my dad’s loving arms.