The Brutal Language of Love Read Online Free

Ragú for dinner. We usually made that or Old El Paso tacos, or else we went to McDonald’s. We had eaten more natural foods when Jonquil was still living with us since she liked to cook, but now that she was gone Mom said it was crazy to go to that kind of trouble for just two people. Mom said it was on Jonquil’s head that I had gotten so damn fat, and she hoped my sister could live with that.
    After dinner Mom left to spend the night with her beau, a retired army sergeant who felt that any of the four branches of the military would serve to set Jonquil straight. I had a job baby-sitting for the two Hermann boys. We made a deal that I would let them stay up as late as they wanted as long as they didn’t tell on me for smoking their parents’ cigarette butts. Once the boys had fallen asleep in front of the TV, I carried them upstairs, put them to bed, and called my sister.
    My mother had kicked her out the year before for becoming unruly. Jonquil, who had been seventeen at the time, moved in with her boyfriend, Vic, and got pregnant. She and Vic made plans to marry but then Jonquil had a miscarriage and they called the wedding off. The family was relieved, which so infuriated Jonquil (since she had suffered such pain), that she put the wedding back on again. Her bridal gown was her senior prom dress, while Vic, who was reedy and slack-jawed, borrowed one of his father’s suits. I cried like a fool at the ceremony because now I knew there was no chance in hell Jonquil was ever coming back to us. Aunt Mitzy and my mother told me not to worry—that Vic was an inbred and it wouldn’t last—and for once I was glad about how nasty they got when they were together.
    Jonquil knew everything about sex and she taught it to me. She said she didn’t want me to end up marrying a screwball like Vic just to prove a point, like she had. She said this right in front of him, on the weekends when I went to stay with them in their apartment, and he just laughed like she was telling a joke. He kissed her, too, and I watched as both their mouths opened and their tongues came out, all rude and wet. I could watch them kiss for hours and, in fact, sometimes that was what ended up happening.
    But Jonquil wasn’t kidding, and what I knew that Vic didn’t was that she was going to leave him as soon as she saved up enough money. He was pursuing an art degree at a community college, which Jonquil described as “double jeopardy.” Meanwhile, she supported both of them on her receptionist’s salary from Dr. Flay, the TV hypnotist. He didn’t perform on TV but he ran a lot of ads describing how he could stop people from smoking, overeating, or a combination of the two. He was a blond, handsome man, and sometimes, my sister told me, spoke to his clients in a made-up foreign accent. As an employee, Jonquil was entitled to a 50 percent discount on his services, and since he liked her so much (feeling her natural thinness made him look like a success), he extended that privilege to her family and friends. I had saved up some baby-sitting money, so when I called Jonquil that night from the Hermanns’ house, it was to ask her to make me an appointment.
    â€œWhat for?” she said.
    â€œBecause,” I said. “Mom wrote and told Aunt Mitzy I was fat.”
    Jonquil made a light blowing sound.
    â€œAre you smoking again?” I asked her.
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œBut I thought Dr. Flay cured you.”
    â€œHe did,” Jonquil said. “I just forgot to say the key word before I went to the grocery store and it screwed me up. I bought a pack.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œAnyway,” Jonquil said, “when I was your age, Mom wrote and told Aunt Mitzy I was a tramp, so don’t worry about it.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhy did she say you were a tramp?”
    â€œDon’t be such a dumb ass, Roz.”
    â€œSorry,” I said. I blew smoke