Forever Free On Fridays

“You cheating whore!”

My mother glared daggers at my father who had just barked so loud the cards on the table vibrated on the polished wood. Throwing her cards down onto the table, Mom screamed back, “You started it!”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did! I saw you! Don’t you deny it you scumbag!”

I never knew that this was how our family fun game night was going to go.

This was more intense.

Honestly, it was also far more enjoyable as well.

Oh, by the way, they weren’t fighting because of UNO either.

Friday nights were meant for unwinding and spending forced time with one another since Mom thought it was a healthy idea after reading it in some magazine somewhere a few years back.

Apparently, we needed to communicate more positively in a less stressful environment to stay as a strong happy family.

Yeah, that was working well.

Game nights led a certain routine. For starters, it was a waste of my Friday evening, and has been for the past five years.

I would sit at the far end of the table, completely uninterested in wasting my Friday night playing a bullshit game of my mother’s choosing as she held my phone hostage and force-fed some disgusting health diet drink that her friend Margie told her was a salvation to the thighs and hips. I didn’t have issues with my thighs or hips, my parents did though.

“No girl at fifteen should have thighs thicker than her waist” my mother would say.

These nights my mother would be nursing several glasses of wine while wearing a fake smile that irritated me to no end as it was the same expression she wore when talking to people in public she didn’t like. Dressed in a nice floral dress and dolled up to the nines, you would think she was going out for a nice dinner. Nope, she was sitting at her dinning room table with a grumpy husband and a daughter who would rather be anywhere but here.

Literally anywhere. Sitting watching paint dry, grass grow, dogs shitting kind of anywhere.

Dad would be leaning back in his usual chair slowly sipping down a glass of whiskey while playing UNO like it was poker. He didn’t enjoy these nights either but pretended he did for the sake of not hearing his wife bitch about it later. He worked nine to five at his blooming constructing business that paid for the luxury my mother demanded and got his three children through school. He was a tired man and would rather be enjoying his evening of freedom in front of the television.

Sadly that was not a reality in my house.

My elder brothers would be here playing too if it weren’t for the fact that they both started university this year and were over a thousand kilometres away enjoying freedom. Lucky bastards. This was the fifth Friday without them. Usually they would make this game a little more bearable as they too would be suffering with me. James would be sitting next to Dad mumbling about the football while Jordan would be putting on a show to entertain the rest of us. Sarcastic, flamboyant, fake and funny.

But tonight, I don’t think his wonderful energy would help.

For tonight, I knew something was off.

Dad would usually groan whenever my mother would call for the ‘fun’ to begin.

But not tonight.

He just stalked over to the dining room table that was set up immaculately – because for some reason my Mom thought the Queen would be joining us.

There was no whiskey in his hand. He was sober and alert.

Even tonight Mom was not holding her usual glass of Pinot Grigio or Sauvignon Blanc. She was quite too. She would usually be clapping and somewhat excited for the ‘fun’ to begin.

Not tonight.

She was eerily quiet.

Both of them were.

Mom didn’t even give me a God-awful health smoothie tonight, which was a plus in my book. They seemed too aware of something else that I wasn’t seeing. Shifty eyes over colourful cards. Snapping hands onto the deck like it was a deadly game of Russian Roulette.

They were silent…until twenty minutes into the game.

It was abrupt. So, I had no idea what Dad was talking about when he started the yelling match. Apparently Mom did though.

“You cheating whore!”

“You started it!”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did! I saw you! Don’t you deny it you scumbag!”

I blinked at them, alarmed and…honestly intrigued. I didn’t think they would care so much to raise their voices on who was looking at who’s cards.

“I saw you with her!” my mother screeched, standing out of her chair so fast it flew back and landed on the floor. “I came to your office yesterday because you forgot to pay the damn phone bill again and I saw you kissing her!”

OH!

Oh.

Ooooooooh.

“How could you do this to me!” my mother screamed her my father hysterically, flailing her arms about. “What if people saw? I would be the laughing stock in front of all our friends. I would be humiliated, Art!”

Dad scoffed. “So bloody typical. That’s what you give a shit about? What other people think?” He lay back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Molly and I-”

“Is that the skank’s name?” Mom spat venomously like the woman’s name was toxic to her tongue.

Oh boy.

Yeah, I didn’t want to be here for this. Actually I kind of did. At least, I wanted to be hiding in the shadows and getting the details to send to James and Jordan. This was like real life soap shit. Better than MAFS I’d think, not that I watch it.

Coughing awkwardly, I spoke up with screaming uncomfortableness clogged in my throat like a frog trying to slide down a pipe two sizes too small. “Uh, should I leave? Can I leave? I should leave.” Daring to slide out of my chair, I aimed towards going for the stairs in hopes of reaching the safety of my room.

Or at least the top of the stairs where I could still hear but not be seen.

“Judie! Sit down!” my mother then screeched at me, my body turning stiff and stopping as her burning eyes now on me at the other end of the table.

Damn it.

“Oh jeez Harper. Let Jude go to her room.” Okay, Dad was winning brownie pointed from me. “She doesn’t need to hear this. This is between you and me.” Mom huffed at him like a scolded child. “And drop the act. I know about you and all your little lovers. I let them slide for years! I couldn’t give a shit. At least it got you off my back. But Richard? Richard! Really? You have to go at sleep with him of all people?”

I frowned at my father. “Uncle Richard?” My curiosity got the better of me, ignoring the tiny voice in my head telling my to stay quiet and suffer in silence rather than to speak up and really be dragged into this martial crap that has been a train wreck since, like, forever.

Uncle Richard was Dad’s younger brother…who had just divorced from his third wife and had three kids of his own to women who he had never been married to. Yeah, Uncle Richard was nice to me but a scumbag to the opposite sex that weren't blood relations.

Dad nodded, scowling in disgust at my mother. "Yep. Sneaking behind my back for-"

“Shut up! Jude go to your room!” my mother barked at me as she slammed her hands down onto the table, her cards picking up on the wind from the force of her hand slamming on the flat wooden surface and slid in all different directions.

Even the cards knew to be well away from the crazy lady.

Not saying another word, I slid out of my chair and raced up the stairs to my room faster than you could say “I want a divorce”.

Which eventually came up in the fight.

After 5 hours, my parents’ fight came to a silence in the house at two in the morning. Surprising the cops weren’t called considering the amount of stuff my mother threw around in a fit of rage. I knew I would be cleaning it up later because she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the housekeeper, having the staff think that she was an uncivilised individual who acted like an ape in a zoo.

I told James and Jordan everything, who weren’t really that surprised that our parents’ marriage had come to this but enjoyed the juice details. It was more exciting than the toga party that were spending their night at. Apparently, girls wearing barely any clothing and dosing themselves in water while taking body shots wasn’t doing anything for them.

So, my parents divorced.

Mom didn’t get jack from my Dad.

He got the house and I got to live with him. Full custody too. I wasn’t a fan of spending time with my mother who was just send me to Fat Camp and call that parent and child bonding time instead of just squeezing me into tiny freaking dresses and planning disgusting diets like the other parents do. I’m not saying my father is a saint either. He started dating Molly in public, after their six-month affair, who it turns out was his married accountant who divorced her husband to be with my father. That was chaos all in itself.

Mom ended up marrying Uncle Richard a few months later, becoming wife number four. Gross.

The family was a mess. My grandparents were furious. Family friends and neighbours gossiped nonstop about the drama that surrounded my family like a bad stink. Even at school I wasn’t safe from it. They might as well put the story on the news and broadcast it around the coast.

Though, I am not overall complaining. There was a large perk to all.

Dad burned the cards and boardgames out back in the fire pit as soon as the divorce was finalised.

Game nights were eternally band in our house.

I’m forever free on Fridays.