Silica Felines *very personal*

(Author note: names have been changed.)


It was beautiful, love at first sight. Dad and Khloe had given me a tall, clear, glass. The glass had blue stick-kitties smiling and dancing around it. I had built a strong connection with that glass. Maybe I just liked kitties or maybe it was something a little deeper than that. Out of everything in my ever changing life, moving from my mom’s to my Dad’s then to my mom’s and feeling like it was my fault for not knowing what to do or understanding why I was born into a couple destined for divorce in the first place. Maybe I felt like that glass was one of the very few things that would never change, that would always be there for two glasses of milk a day.

It made a loud clinking noise as I set it down on the table-top. My tall glass of milk had one solitary sip left, quivering at the bottom as if it missed the rest of the substance that I had consumed. I looked back to my computer screen and checked my Facebook account. I had a friend request. The name said Khloe. That name was too familiar. It brought back a stream of memories. Not entirely pleasant memories, at that. My hand reached over and clutched my second favourite glass. I drank the last sip. It was warm and slightly bitter. My hands trembled at the keyboard.

My response: “Do I know you?”

Playing dumb was easier than facing her directly.

“Leonard, Sadie,” I glanced up from the couch into the conjoined kitchen, towards my Dad. “Khloe called the other day and asked if you two wanted to go to a movie with her sometime.” From the tone of his voice I could tell he wasn’t impressed by her trying to contact us. Khloe considered Leonard (my brother) and me her kids, even after all of what happened.

My brother shook his head and protested loudly. He did not want to have anything to do with her. I gulped down one of the two sips of milk from my favorite glass. The glass was adorned with blue stick-kitties that danced around its entire width. “Sure.” I muttered. I had no qualms with going to a movie with her. After all, she had been a big part of my life.

However, she never called us back.

Once my Dad’s second wife, Khloe, had he Whinnie the Poo collectable glass broken, at the time I failed to understand why she took it as such a serious offense. And although I loved my kitty glass I carried it into her bedroom, where she sat depressed, and offered it to her, unsure if she even liked it but at the very least I wanted her to be happy again. She turned down the offer. While I was relieved the glass was still mine I did hate such rejection.

God, I was such an overgrown infant, curled up in my room, sobbing my eyes out. Dad had to go back to work after he dropped me off. We were in the small city, only twenty minutes away from home. Dad had some errands to run. He also was meeting with Khloe. She had run off again recently. Yes, I cried myself to sleep about that too.

Dad stopped into a dead parking lot to talk to her. She came in another car, driven by Lane. She stepped out of the passenger side and closed the distance to our car. Khloe didn’t even look at my Dad before she paid attention to me. She smiled and acted pleasant to my face. It was confusing. I didn’t understand why she was talking to me at all. I wasn’t involved in what was going on. This vexed Dad. I didn’t hear their conversation. They knew I was there so they whispered to low for my ears to pick up.

The change was visible though. Dad snarled at her and made a U-turn too fast just to speed out of the parking lot. He was gone before she even made it back to the car Lane drove her there with. On the way home Dad cussed about the encounter. He did, however, apologize for his careless driving. Her obvious lack of acknowledgement for him caused him anger so great it emanated from every pour in his skin.

So there I was, in my room, after he left. I trotted there to curl up and sob. I hated crying in front of anyone, especially Dad. Especially now. Wiping my eyes I remember I had about three sips of milk in the fridge. Even if my Dad wouldn’t smile about anything, those fake, plastered smiles on my blue cats somehow cheered me up. They were unfitting to the moment. There wasn’t much to be happy about, yet they grinned on.

“How do you feel now that she’s back?” so I was wrong. They had gotten back together. Dad asked the question while we stood in the roadside gas station and restaurant. We were taking a trip to the city that day. Before answering him I walked to the window to take a glance.

She was standing outside near the car, the Jimmy, as she called it. In her hand there was a cigarette, she took another puff and paced again. “I don’t like that she smokes.” She had always smoked and I never liked it. Though that wasn’t what I had my biggest problem with, I was just trying to find something to pick at. Dad snarled at me and dismissed my words. I couldn’t vocalize what I really thought, not for a second time anyway. I managed it once but it didn’t get through, so there was no point in even attempting another confrontation.

Four sips left. I really did drink my milk too fast. If ever something occurred I had a drink, though, it was more for the glass than the milk. I loved milk, yes, but the kitty glass gave me a strange sense of comfort.

Dad drove me home from school earlier. It was the first time I heard him cry. I had never seen his face but I heard the bubbly, sobbing noise. No matter how quiet he tried to keep it, it was audible. I said nothing because I knew him. I knew he was the kind of man who never wanted to show his feelings, especially to his daughter and through a mode such as crying.

Right before he cried I had asked a dumb question. I asked if Khloe was coming back. He was quiet and didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew I needed an answer. “There is a saying.” he began “If you love something let it go. If it comes back it’s yours, if not then it never was to begin with.” I had no response to that. The ride was quiet until we got closer to the house. That was when he cried.

I was home alone again. With both hands around my glass I coddled it as if it was my life force. Those kitties wore a smile I could never muster. Not then.

I overheard my Dad having a conversation on the phone, though one-sided the subject matter was obvious and not something a child should have had to hear, let alone understand.

“She slept with him?...Fuck…” there were pauses as he waited for a response from the other end. To this day I have no idea who he was on the phone with.

“It’s like a roller coaster.” I told him. “You have your ups and downs, and when she needs money she comes back to you.” He just stared at me and sighed, my Dad. I thought it would be the last separation, the final one that would end up becoming permanent. Though I said what was on my mind I had no idea if he had listened to me.

I drank one of the five sips of milk left in my glass, the same slightly bitter, creamy drink from the same glass that was keeping me sane.

Thank goodness I brought a book. The wait was longer than I expected. Being that I had hardly stepped foot into hospitals my whole life, this was something slightly new. My step mom, Khloe, had to have her gall bladder removed. It had been giving her trouble for a while now. She would normally have bruises across her lower abdomen for no apparent reason, and I witnessed her black out once while putting dishes away. Dad caught her and carried her to a couch to set her down. I was happy she would feel better.

Dad, too, seemed relieved. As far as we knew she was doing well. Dad and I paid her hospital visits as often as we could. She was in there for several weeks, so it had been a hectic time.

“Sadie! Quick!” Khloe walked quickly towards me and thrust a box of chocolates and roses into my hands. “I need to hide this in your room. Don’t tell your Dad about it.”

I was confused. This is not something that had happened to me before. Why couldn’t Dad know? I asked her. She responded. “It was just a gift from a friend but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, that’s all.” She smiled and reassured me.

“Oh ok.” I was still suspicious, however I didn’t complain too much. I got a small box of chocolates out of the deal. Khloe set the roses on my small dresser. I was scared Dad would come into my room and see them. As soon as she left I covered them with a blanket and hid them. I didn’t know why, but I felt like something was coming, or rather ending, even though I was only twelve and had no idea whether to believe Khloe or not, I knew that if Dad even got a scent of those roses they would fight. I hated yelling, so I hid everything, like Khloe asked.

My glass had six sips of milk in it. I would rather have been finishing that than hiding what to me seemed like a beautiful gift from a loved one.

It was my favorite glass and I would have it for the rest of my life. At least, I wanted to. Just like I wanted a family for the rest of my life. I wanted a Mom and a Dad, I wanted the same sort of family other kids I knew had. Maybe my real Mom had some issues but Khloe could be better, I could look up to her and we could live and grow together, with my new kitty-glass as a reminder of what we went through to get so far. It was a farfetched dream, but I was only seven and those were the only kinds of dreams I had.

“Think hard. Step Mom. I want to forget about the past, I still consider you my daughter.” The Facebook reply popped up.

I accepted the friend request. After all, I was always told I should give second chances.

“Are you sure there is nothing we can do?” I asked my Dad as I gave the chipped edge of my favorite glass another glance. He sighed, annoyed that I hadn’t done away with it yet and told me the answer was no.

One slower step to the pantry door of which the recycling box was located behind, I could feel my gut twist somehow. I felt as if I was losing something important, maybe not a memory per-say but a container which held them together, something I depended on to stay whole.