Dating Down by Stefanie Lyons Read Free Book Online

elected Illinois State Senator.
    Why does he give so much to others?
    What about me?
    It seems he’s
    less
    and less
    the father I knew with Mom,
    more
    and more
    someone else entirely.
    Am I someone else entirely, too?
    I’m not like him—
    obsessed with appearances
    hoping others will
    accept me
    support me
    vote for me
    elect me.
    Suddenly,
    I want to rip off my dress
    run back to X and press his body
    hot against mine
    feel his weight
    over me
    inside me
    carrying me
    off to another
    place
    time
    planet.
    The crowd erupts in applause.
    Miguel grins, proud supporter.
    Balloons fall from the ceiling as
    we stand up,
    banners fly.
    Who am I?
    How come my family had to turn out like this?
    Why didn’t my mother live?
    Why’d she get ovarian cancer?
    Chemo?
    I paint the image in my head.
    It’s time to get back to my canvas.

The Scene
    Headphones on
    hands covered in paint
    head wrapped around canvas,
    I paint.
    Melanie pets Missy
    sm purr sm purr sm purr
    as I streak and stroke,
    mash plastic-cup red and coffee-brown
    forming a
    sm fast-paced sm action-packed sm messy image
    of a guy standing in the middle
    of a crowd of color.
    It streams from the top of the canvas
    raining down on his shoulders.
    Sharper, more saturated hues than I’ve ever used.
    Melanie says it looks scary,
    yanks on my shirtsleeve
    making sure I hear her.
    I should continue to ignore her,
    keep painting this party scene,
    but I listen.
    We’re not at war—the two of us.
    Me: sm He’s nice. Someone sweet.
    Melanie: sm No, he’s scary.
    I look at the harsh hues
    strong strokes
    but he’s as cute as can be
    isn’t he?
    Melanie: sm He scares me. I don’t want to see.
    She covers her eyes.
    Melanie: sm Is he gone?
    She uncovers her eyes, believing
    everything bad can vanish
    in the blink of an eye.

Weights
    Melanie wants to paint stones
    our stones
    more stones.
    She has memories,
    her imaginary friend, Valerie—
    brushing Valerie’s hair
    babysitting Angie Hippo
    swinging together in the park.
    She wants to paint them in stone,
    sock them away
    in her underwear drawer.
    Jane’s unaware
    her daughter,
    perfect sm round sm young
    hides painted rocks
    next to her panties.
    But we can’t go out now
    dinnertime nears.
    Instead, we sneak
    into Dad’s own private room
    filled to the roof
    papers sm posters sm books
    folders sm a globe sm paperweights
    his collection of paperweights,
    presents from political people
    seem an odd way to say thank you.
    Good job, now here’s a heavy object.
    We pickpocket the
    flat ones
    white ones
    round ones
    smooth ones
    big ones
    tiny ones
    lopsided ones.
    More stones
    now, our stones.

We Paint Paperweights
    One for Missy,
    blue like a sky of potential.
    One for X,
    red like lust.
    One for Mom,
    pink like a ballet slipper.
    Melanie accidentally paints over Mom’s weight.
    It turns gray.
    The color of no color.
    Me: sm It’s ruined.
    Melanie: sm I like gray. Like a day when the sun naps.
    She kisses my cheek, then goes to work
    on a bulky, round paperweight
    content
    determined
    a part of Jane and also a part of me.
    When Jane yells that dinner’s ready
    Melanie morphs into RoboCop
    and races downstairs to munch on
    baked chicken
    boiled potatoes
    bland
    boring
    bourgeois
    but then X calls.

Cracks, Pt. I
    I throw on a thin skirt, socks,
    and my Chucks.
    Sandals seem so girly.
    Dad: sm Don’t stay out late.
    Jane: sm We’re handing out flyers tomorrow.
    Me:
    I’m sticky-hot,
    full of baked chicken
    and ready to escape this house, this heat.
    To ease Dad’s tensions
    he hasn’t met this young gentleman
    X agrees to knock on the door
    official date!
    But X calls two seconds before I hear
    BEEP BEEP
    Try as I might,
    sm X won’t budge.
    Dad sips bourbon in his study,
    engrossed in political stuff.
    Does he notice the missing paperweights?
    Does he remember he planned on playing
the role of concerned father?
    I slip out