Its dark, its cold, like it always is in South Asia, Cambodia.
Mom's laying just an inch of her body close to the sofa, as for Jacob and Marla, they keep reminding me I'm homeless, or am I?
I dive back into my Maroon blue juice, which Cassie calls a blue shake, I really ain't interested in questioning its colour. All I'm concerned about is the way little Peggy keeps plastering mud to my room's wall, well at least that's what I think it is.
Peggy is the only evidence of Jacob and Cassie's worn out affection, an insult to marriages everywhere, a complete mismatch or do I say opposite of the sacred union made above.
Don't misquote me, Peggy's a sweet child, her parents, not so much. I certainly still have no way to ask them why they turned a two week visit into a permanent relocation.
'Ivvy!' Mom calls out to me. Sometimes I feel she hears my thoughts when I'm half way in, what else would explain her untimed disruptions.
I screw my eyes through that of a middle aged who I often refer to as Mom.
Who the heck am I kidding, if she isn't my mom, then Bill Gates fathered Mother Theresa of London.
'Ivvy for goodness sake, would you lend your mother an ear' My mom asks again letting out a squint.
I really don't see the reason why she needs my ears, why not my feet, I fear that she'll need my whole internal organs, just to get a sensible organism to listen to how a group of orchestra kids make her life more miserable.
Not like its any better; her pale sunken, but sharp eyelids, perfect jaw line, still keeps me wondering why dad left her.
'I would borrow you ten ears, if I wasn't monitoring Peggy mom.' I reply as I immediately sharp shoot my eyeballs to the walls in front of Peggy.
I could feel my mom's angry hot gaze on me from behind, whatever it looked like, I was now more determined to find out if it was really mud Peggy had in her hands.
I was waiting for a miracle to save me from this mess, not the mess Jacob created in my kitchen, nor that created by Cassie in my bedroom, nor my mom's unending hair products that I'm now staring at.
Something to liberate me from the clutches of humans will do the trick.
Holy geez, did I end up butt dialling Sia again, either ways heavens harkened to my cry.
I quickly reach down to my bum and wiggle my phone in the air; I really wonder why I just did that. I see four confused faces stuck at me, but I head on to answer the call.
'Hey Sia, what's up? I haven't heard from you since the hot night' I say not minding my mom now leaving her lips in a wide O shaped manner.
''Not like you stayed half way through it, anyways are you still coming for Cassie's wedding next week or will you babysit Peggy'' Sia says letting out a tut.
Did this bitch just...….
"Well, are you?"
'I'll be there, how's babysitting my niece even an excuse to miss my best friend's wedding' I reply, not forgetting to add a hint of sarcasm in my tone.
"You tell me, that's exactly what you said last time, but you still....."
I knew where this was headed, Mason's wedding, and yes she's right, I used Peggy as an excuse, only because he was my ex.
I mean who attends their own ex's wedding, I'm sure Lucy (his bride) would have been waiting to see me mope or wail.
Come to think of it, why did I and Mason break up? Oh now I remember, I couldn't do the long relationship thingy no more, and I knew he was waiting for me to feel so too.
What else would explain someone getting married a week after breaking up with his girlfriend, regardless I should have been there to support my friend on her brother's big day.
"Ivvy, are you there?"
No I'm riding a motorcycle in turkey; goodness knows why she even called. Wait a second, for the first time Sia might just be of help to me.
'Am yeah I think, are the pre-wedding preparations on yet?' I ask, still bearing in mind that three grownups are widely eavesdropping on my end of the call.
Please please Sia, please say yes just this once and maybe I'll help you talk to your crush. Roy's been Sia's secret sweetheart for as long as I could eat with chopsticks, even I know they'll have a future together for as long as Thomas Jefferson owns Kentucky.
Oh Ivvy, give them a break.
"Yup it certainly is, problem is, I really don't know if I should assign the bridal train maroon blue, ketchup pink or sea lion pitch." She says with a side grin.
Sea lion what now? Are sea lions even pitch, and ketchup pink? Are those even colours? I live in a generation that Dwayne Johnson is a star, what else do I expect. And yes, I do hate Dwayne for reasons known to my dreams.
'Definitely sea lion pitch, I hear its trending in town', I lie.
And here goes the insults.
"You dirt ,dirty liar, we both know those colours sound as ridiculous as Chan's travel stories, but if you insist , sea lion pitch it is then, so are you coming over?"She asks.
She finally popped the question, Imma say yes to it a million times, who cares if it sounds ridiculous. Even Chan's stories have a happy end, and this is mine, leaving this heck of a home, this one time I might never return back.
'Am , sure , I can definitely come stay over to help till the wedding takes place.' I say out loud to draw mom's attention.
Is it weird I feel unsafe after saying those words, mom looks like she's about to burst , while Peggy still looks like she's messed up her diaper, and this is why I like her, she always has a face I can count on to stare at, when things like this happen.
"I could swear your mom's there with you, ain't she?" She asks giggling a bit.
'Yup, so you want me to get my stuff as soon as I drop the call, and come to your place in a flash, sure, I'll be there.' I say letting out a tiny smirk.
Mom knows I'm faking, she also knows I can't stand a second more in this house, she hardly objects to my outings.
Duh, cause I'm 23, but she always ensures she adds her little over protective touch, something that devilish couple planted in her head since they came around. As long as she'll let me leave, I really have no issues with that.
"Whatever, I'll see you later then."She says.
I slowly turn my face to my mom, not for permission though, I'm sure she already gets the jig. Her facial expression isn't just putting me right, neither are the side murmurs from the deranged couple.
So what if Marla is my elder sister( cousin), I hated her since I knew how to properly spell my name , even if that was just months ago, what I feel about her seems like it's been brewed up for decades .
'You can go.' Mom says in a slightly pale tone.
Did she just agree, today must be mine indeed, one thing is settled, I'll only return when Congo is the capital of North Carolina.
'Wait, really? No questioning huh? You'll just let her off that easily; don't you want her to be responsible Qui? ', Jacob asks as he slowly raised a brow.
Is it me or does he want me to grant him a death wish? I almost forgot mom's name is spelt exactly as a French word.
Only difference is that it's pronounced KWEE not WE.
'Let it be, you can only talk about responsibility when you get a house.' Mom replies giving him a scornful look.
I could clearly see Jacob's face heating up, this was the first time mom had been this harsh with him, it certainly feels like I've been given a way better present from my mom, than the sports bra I was given at age 5.
What a mom indeed!