I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL THIS CHAPTER

It really was our worst fight ever. And up until then, we fought A LOT, so this is saying something. BAD BAD fight. Surprised we made it through that period of our lives type of fight.

My parents didn’t visit us too often in Miami. My mom usually came down when we had garage sales. Said it was to help, but I really think she just wanted to see what I was selling that she had given me. My brothers came and helped us move a few times. But this time it was just my mom and Nelson and they were coming down to just relax and act like they were on vacation for a long weekend.

Vacation? Vacation from hell maybe.

The tension between Robin and me had been brewing for a while and on this particular Thursday in May of 2008, it was really starting to come to a head. Should I have told my parents to not come? Probably. They had seen us fight enough and that is why they didn’t visit as often as I would have liked. I figured the issue had been around for a long time and I could sweep it under the carpet for a few more days, so I didn’t tell them not to come.

I worked in the law office that day and came home and Robin had everything ready for when they arrived. They got there and after we unloaded all the groceries (excellent house guests – always bring soda, snacks, bagels – not to mention their own towels), clothes, and trinkets they brought us, we had dinner.

Although I was pissed, I think I faked it well. Looking back, I’m sure I did not. These were parents I’m fake smiling in front of, not just casual acquaintances. Nelson retired early and Robin followed him shortly thereafter. Wait. That didn’t come out right. Nelson went to bed and then Robin went to bed, her bed, after he did. They did not go to bed together. My mom and I sat up and chatted.

Then the text came through and verified everything I’d suspected for an entire year.

I felt like a volcano exxxxxxplooooding.

I am normally very easy going and have thick skin, but when I get mad, watch out town folk. This was not gonna be pretty.

Nelson got out of bed to see what was going on and so did Robin. As mad as I was inside, I was rather calm on the outside. Sure there was some yellage, but not what I would have thought. My parents got me as calmed down as I could possibly get and finally went to bed. Robin took a drive, came home, we fought some more and she finally just went to bed. It was all out there in the open now – nothing left to say or do.

There was no way I could sleep so I did what everyone does when they’re incredibly upset at 1:30 a.m.

I cleaned the bathroom.

I loved our little bungalow style house in Miami. The best room was the back yard. And the best piece of furniture was the pool. But the little house only had one bathroom and Nelson drinks one gallon of water every single day. (It really annoys my mother on Saturdays, which is “Kay Day”. They spend the morning garage saling and then have lunch out. Since Nelson got the kidney stones, he has been beyond diligent in getting his water in. Little science here: you drink a lot, you pee a lot. The every half hour pee stops really have put a wet blanket on Kay Day.)

I have a thing for Clorox. So much so that I have almost passed out many times by overusing the stuff. I am no dummy. I don’t use it in conjunction with other cleaners. I’ve heard the horror stories. But I am rather reckless with it. No gloves, no half water. Full strength bleach. My lungs, in addition to my clothes, have paid the dues, but I still “use”. Sure I start off with a bottle of Clorox Cleanup, but as I use that and make room in the bottle, I pour the full strength stuff in. Someday I will seek out Cloriholics Anonymous. But for now? For now I lead my life.

Took me a few near fainting spells, but somewhere along the way I learned to keep the bathroom door open when cleaning with the “stuff”. At around 1:30, Nelson had to use the bathroom and apologized for doing so. No biggie. I stepped aside.

He went back to bed and I finally scrubbed myself to a tired stupor. I went to bed too.

A mere four hours lately, I myself had to pee and got up to do so. My mother was waiting outside my bedroom door, just standing there, waiting. Scared the shit out of me.

“Where is Robin?” Her voice was kinda trembly and she looked, no offense, not so good.

“What?” I was barely awake and for a split second had forgotten how upset I was.

“Where is Robin!” Loudness.

“What is the matter with you?” I was now waking up and the events of the night before hit me like a brick.

“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS RIGHT THIS SECOND. WWWHHHEEERRREEE IIISSS SSSHHHEE???”. Jeez, Ma. Manic much?

“She’s asleep.”

“WWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHEEEEEERRRRRRREEEEEEE??????” Screamed in perfect Nancy Kerrigan fashion. (Remember when Tanya Harding had a hitman smash her knees? All the news kept showing was Nancy screaming, “WWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYY????”. THAT was good stuff. Forgive me if I insulted your intelligence by that explanation.)

“In there.”

My mother whipped open my bedroom door. By this time Robin (and the rest of the neighborhood, I’m sure) was awake. She quickly shut the door and you could see the weight lifting off her shoulders.

Nelson appeared from the guestroom.

I said, “Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

By this time, the four of us were standing, kind of huddled actually, in the small hallway outside my bedroom.

“Nelson saw you scouring the bathroom last night.”

“Yeah?”

“With bleach?????” Sounded like an accusing question. Objection!!!

“So whaaaaat?” Where the hell was this going? So what if I was cleaning the bedroom…wait a minute…no way…”What are you trying to say? MOM!!!! What?!”

“Well, we, he, no we just thought it was very strange that you would be on your hands and knees cleaning, cleaning with bleach, the bathroom after, after that fight you two had.” She could NOT look at me in the face.

“What are you trying to say?”

Robin squeezed through us to get a cigarette. Nelson just stared down. Can’t remember exactly what my mother was looking at but I know it wasn’t me.

“Tell me! “

Not a word from any one.

“YOU THINK I CHOPPED HER UP IN LITTLE PIECES AND WAS CLEANING UP THE MESS!!!”

“Well, it just seemed strange….”

“I CANNOT EFFFFFFFFING BELIEVE THIS!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Should I have told them not to come that weekend? Probably. But it’s a good thing I didn’t. Because if your parents think that you are capable of chopping up somebody, you very well may be.

Good thing they were there.

Just sayin’.