Obsession

The mattress is incredible uncomfortable, and half way through the night I have to turn it over just to see if it’ll make any difference. It doesn’t. I don’t know how much more I can take of this. We should be taking turns, but I know Landon will just tell me to put the mattress back on the bed it came from and quit whining. There isn’t any real reason for me not to sleep in there either, except I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing any more of my flesh than he deserves too. That’s why I’m sleeping in my track pants, even though it’s damn hot with them on. I’m not going to let him have more ammunition to mock me with.

I finally fall asleep at around five am, just when the morning light is breaking through and the room takes on a kind of milky, ethereal haze, and what seems like less than a moment later, I’m woken up by Mom and Marvin eating breakfast loudly at the table above me. Actually, it’s Mom’s foot in my gut that does it, apparently an accidental swipe as she stretches out her legs.

Wide awake again, and with the house now up, it’s going to be impossible to get back to sleep, so I don’t even bother trying. I can’t have slept more than two hours. My head hurts, my back hurts, my brain hurts and my mouth is dry. This vacation sucks.

“Morning, Tilly.”

“What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“And it’s a beautiful day already”, Marvin adds.

I notice the drapes have already been drawn and the garden and decking is bathed in sunlight.

“You know I was sleeping, right?”

Mom avoids the question. “You want some breakfast?”

I don’t think I can face breakfast right now. I don’t think I can face anything but a darkened room and some relaxing music. Perhaps a massage. My eyes go to Landon’s still closed bedroom door.

“How come you have to wake me up and The Donkey gets to sleep in?”

“Landon? He left about an hour ago.”

“Left? Where?”

“For a run, I think. Said he was going crazy being cooped up.”

Instead of feeling jubilant that my new big brother is finally out of the way, I feel a little disappointed he’s disappeared, without even telling me. I shake the feeling away and blame lack of sleep for my clear emotional confusion.

“Coffee’s still warm if you want some.”

I drag the mattress back to Landon’s bedroom, not because it needs to be there, but because I want to see if Mom is right. She is. Besides a stack of clothes, a general mess and a musky boy smell that makes me want to lie down in his bed, and not because I’m tired either, he’s gone.

I dump the mattress down on his bed, partly because it’s easy for me to retrieve when I need it, mostly because it’s in his way and I know it’ll annoy him, and then I sit down on the bed next to it and take a look at the room that should be mine. We’ve only been here two days and he’s not only made it a mess, he’s completely made it his own.

I have a sudden urge to rifle through his belongings, dig for secrets at the bottom of his bag, or just take advantage somehow of his absence, but I’m not entirely sure where to begin, nor what it is I might be looking for, and the intimacy of the idea finally stops me.

“When is he going to be back?”

I sit down at the table, take two slices of cold toast out of the rack and lather them with honey and peanut butter.

“He didn’t say.”

“I thought we were supposed to be doing things as a family.”

The coffee may have been warm five minutes ago, or an hour ago when Mom first made it, but it definitely isn’t now.

“It’s only a run, honey, he’s not going to be out all day.”

“He did take his car.”

Marvin has a funny way of looking like he’s not listening, lost in some other task or activity, and then saying something, usually in a way that sounds like he’s saying it to himself, that proves he’s been listening all along.

I watch him let that comment fall, as though talking about the weather, which I suppose he could be because whether Landon has taken his car or not is really neither here nor there, turn the paper with a carefully saliva dampened finger tip and push the last of his toast into his mouth.

“His car?”

Agreeing to come on a family holiday means that he’s not allowed to escape. This is against the rules. This is subversion on a massive level. This is. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.

“He said something about getting a signal for his phone, checking in with his team, you know, something important like that. He is Shoreville’s most valuable player.”

“Mom, stop pretending you know about football when you don’t. You didn’t even know what MVP was until two days ago. And i’m sure Shoreville can cope without their troubled star for a few more days, it’s not like the world revolves around him.”

“Well it sounded important that’s all. I’m sure we can manage without him, or are you missing him that much already?”

“Yeah, right.”

“I can’t tell you how happy it makes us both to see you two getting along.”

Is she for real? Even Marvin is nodding. Landon and I getting along is like saying Trump and Obama are best friends.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect at first, you know with Landon being from such a different world to ours, but he’s such a genuinely nice guy, you don’t even think about it after five minutes.”

How can coffee heated in the microwave actually taste worse than cold coffee? It’s so bitter I almost spit it out without thinking.

“You know, I was worried he wouldn’t like my cooking, or get bored or, you know, whatever, but he’s been such a sweetheart, hasn’t he Marv?”

There’s that nodding again. No wonder Marvin is so meek, he’s grown up living in his son’s shadow.

“You know Landon is on his final warning at the club? You know he’s had problems with drugs, problems with violence and problems with women? You know about the car crash that almost ended his career, I presume.”

“I know how much baloney the papers make up. Anyway, you shouldn’t say bad things about your brother, I can tell you’re already missing him. An hour without him around and you’re pining for your playmate like a lost dog.”

“Are you serious? I don’t even know him.”

“Exactly, which is why you shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“And he’s my step brother anyway, not that I asked him to be.”

“And I know you well enough to tell you’re over the moon about it. It’s alright to admit that you like him, you know.”

Jesus, not Mom as well. What is this, liberal Americans week?

“Whatever. He can do what he likes as long as he leaves me alone.”

Jacuzzi, massage, pissing with the door open, sunbathing with his top off, smiling, poking fun, walking behind me, in front or alongside, whatever, as long as he leaves me alone.

Mom clears the dishes while Marvin focuses on the newspaper. I have to wrestle my plate back of her because I haven’t finished, and then explain why it’s taking me ten minutes to finish a slice of bread - sleep slowing everything down, Mom - to which I get the response:

“Landon would have polished that off in seconds. That boy can eat like a horse.”

Piss like one as well, I almost say.

Mom and Marvin have traditional roles, which would bother me, but doesn’t seem to bother them at all. Marvin is very much the trouser wearer, while Mom is happy to cook and clean and let him do his thing, which he does, very quietly and without much ruckus. Dad and Mom used to have blazing rows, but I can’t remember Marvin and Mom ever saying a crossed word to each other.

With Mom busying herself in the kitchen, and Marvin and I affectively alone at the table, I decide to do some digging. I’m hoping for some ammunition I can use against Landon later, if he comes back later of course. He’s left all of his stuff here so I presume he is. I hope he is too, even if it’s just so I can have a go at him.

“Marvin?”

Not so much a word as a gentle sound of agreement.