Since Jennifer’s mom is a biker and goes out a lot, Jennifer usually stays at her grandmother’s house where she can have a more stable childhood. Her grandpa stays in his downstairs bedroom with the door locked. I’ve never seen him. Everyone smokes, so the couches smell musty and cigarettey. Both bathtubs are stained brown around the drain. But I still love sleeping there because her grandma makes egg mcmuffins and lets us watch R-rated movies.
SINGLE MOMS HAVE COZY APARTMENTS BY SE DIAMOND 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 99
Jennifer’s mom picks us up from school in her 80s Cavalier on Friday. Her name’s Melody and she’s taking us to her apartment for the weekend so we can all go out for Jennifer’s 14th birthday. We’ll have dinner, maybe check out a carnival. Jennifer will probably sneak out and meet some Mexican boys at the park.
I’m in the back seat staring at the head-rests that make a square at the back of their heads. They both have blonde hair. My hair is brown and ugly. My mom dyes her hair blonde, but Jennifer’s mom is fatter than her.
It’s a 30-minute ride from our school to Melody’s apartment. She has the radio on classic hard-rock hits of the 70s. I like rap. This morning before school I listened to DJ Quick.
I packed my hair mousse because Jennifer always has the cheap kind. I also brought three baggy T-shirts, royal-blue pants, shampoo for perms, socks, and my list of pager codes.
Since Jennifer’s mom is a biker and goes out a lot, Jennifer usually stays at her grandmother’s house where she can have a more stable childhood. Jennifer’s aunt and cousin live there too. Her uncle rents the back guesthouse and fixes cars. Her grandpa stays in his downstairs bedroom with the door locked. I’ve never seen him. In grandma’s house there are piles of old newspapers in the hallway. Everyone smokes, so the couches smell musty and cigarettey. Both bathtubs are stained brown around the drain. But I still love sleeping there because her grandma makes egg mcmuffins and lets us watch R-rated movies. She is also fat, so she can make good food. I stay in my pajamas and watch TV for eight or nine hours at a time. When my mom comes to pick me up I wait outside so she doesn’t know they have a dirty house. When she asks me what we did I just say I had a good time. She doesn’t ask again because she is worried that I didn’t have any friends.
We pull into Melody’s apartment building. It’s a large stucco block with three palm trees, and a black metal gate in front. The sidewalk is dusty from the cigarettes and dried palm tree leaves. The grass at the front walkway is yellow brown.
Melody has a parking spot under the building. She pulls in next to her motorcycle, covered with a canvas tarp. My mom doesn’t know where exactly Jennifer’s mom lives. She’s never met her. She thinks Melody has a condo in Studio City. If she needs to talk to me, she just pages Jennifer 911.
Melody really lives in North Hollywood. She doesn’t have the same last name as Jennifer and I don’t know what it is, so I just tell my mom it’s the same as Jennifer’s because there’s always something fishy behind not having the same last name as your mom.
I told my mom that Melody’s boyfriend Duane is a divorce lawyer, and they’re engaged. Duane is really a biker with tattoos. His entire left arm is covered with an eagle pecking at a large female breast. Duane wears motorcycle boots. His grey mustache matches his grey hair, which is always tied in a ponytail. Duane’s probably been in bar fights and spent a few nights in jail but he’s really nice to us and not molester nice like Jennifer’s uncle who sits in a dirty plastic chair watching us swim in her grandma’s pool. I like Duane.
Whenever we sleep at Melody’s, Duane brings us sodas and fast food. I could eat ten pounds of french fries and chicken sandwiches. Duane drops our food right in front of the television. We can watch as much as we want.