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This had been the most unusual summer ever! Mama and Daddy had been doing a lot of things with my Daddy's boss, Mr. Dave, and Mr. Dave's boss, Mr. Debona. They all worked for South Central Bell. Mr. Debona was the "head honcho," my Daddy would say. He dressed like a cowboy, and sometimes Mama and Daddy would laugh and call him a redneck from north Louisiana. Mr. Debona's wife was a strange birdlike lady. She was very skinny, and hardly ever smiled. Mama said she had a plate in her head. I'd always stare at her when she wasn't looking to see if I could spot it. Mr. Dave, who reported to Mr. Debona, was a very tall and loud man. Mama said to stay away from him when he was drunk, which was every time we got together, so I didn't really have much of an opinion of him. Mrs. Sandra, his wife, was nice. Their daughter was named Dawn, and she was the oldest in her family. She got on my nerves sometimes though when she acted all superior. She would say things like, "Mr. Debona is my Daddy's boss, and my Daddy is your Daddy's boss, so I should be your boss." "You should not." "Uh-huh," she'd smirk, "it's the chain of command." "I'm older than you," I'd say, "and besides, Mr. Debona likes my Daddy better than your Daddy because your Daddy is a drunk. He always makes scenes." Dawn had two bratty little brothers, Dave, Jr., and Darren. They were kind of wimpy, but at least my brother, Tyler, had someone to play with. One time Tyler punched Dave, Jr. in the face. He bloodied little Dave's nose and everything! I thought the little weasel deserved it, but Daddy gave Tyler a lecture. Daddy said even though Little Dave was an obnoxious little whiner, he was younger and Tyler shouldn't ever hit him. Daddy was always so fair. Daddy was my favorite person in the whole group. Sometimes when we'd have barbecues and everyone was outside having fun, Daddy would see me and I'd see him. He'd smile and wink at me. Mama hardly ever noticed me when the group would get together. She was always drinking and laughing with Mr. Debona and the other grown-ups, her mega-personality doing overtime. I remember being surprised one Saturday when Mama said we weren't going to do anything with the group. I didn't know why. Maybe because she and Daddy were having a fight. I wasn't happy because I had my Barbie Townhouse all set up and was looking forward to playing with Dawn. I had to play all by myself and it wasn't as fun. Later that afternoon I asked Mama why the group wasn't coming over. She told me that Daddy didn't want to get together with the group for a while. Daddy was outside lying on a lawn chair, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. He was just looking out into space. As I got closer I saw that he had tears in his eyes. "Hi Daddy." I sat in the grass beside his chair. "Hey Pumpkin." He smiled wearily, and his hand dropped to my head. He rubbed my hair. We sat in silence for a while; the only sounds were the birds singing and a lawn mower sputtering a few houses away. Daddy's fingers moved lightly along my scalp. Finally, he slipped his finger in my ear and tickled me. I giggled. I looked up at him and asked, "Why can't we do anything with anybody anymore?" He puffed on his cigarette. "Pumpkin," he said, "Daddy has to work with these men every day. Sometimes I'd like for just our family, just the four of us, to have a barbecue. You know what I mean?" I nodded, but I really didn't know what he meant. All I knew for sure was that I had set up my Barbie Townhouse for nothing, and that Daddy was feeling very sad. I went back inside feeling sad too, and I had a scared feeling in my stomach. I remember this big fishing trip we took to the lake at Toledo Bend. Mama bought us new shorts sets for the trip and everything. The navy shorts made me look not as fat, and I was thrilled! I always felt fat around Dawn. She was taller, and shaped a lot better than me. Sometimes I really hated Dawn. Mr. Debona brought his legendary fishing boat. It was so big it could carry up to twelve people. Mr. Debona also brought an Airstream trailer that had a stove, a refrigerator, a toilet and even beds. It was just like a house! Toledo Bend had the neatest set up I'd ever seen. There were places with lawn chairs where Dawn and I could lay in the sun. There was even a swimming pool right by the lake! I had no desire to go fishing, but one morning Mr. Debona woke Dawn and me up and said, "Let's go." He was going to take his boat out just for us. I told him I didn't know how to fish but he told me not to worry.
Mr. Debona said to watch the cork very closely. If it went under water, you had a bite. Believe me, I was concentrating on that cork. Bloop. It sunk. Just like that. I froze. Mr. Debona was still fiddling with Dawn's casting lesson and here I had a fish! I started winding up my reel and I felt something pulling right back. I must have let out a squeal because Mr. Debona rushed over and started cheering. "That's my girl! Reel it in!" he said, patting me on the back. And there it was. My first bream. I was a natural. The Fishing Gods were with me that day. I caught bream after bream. I could hardly get my hook in the water before I'd see the red and white cork sink and feel one of those babies tugging on my line. Mr. Debona wore himself out baiting my hooks. I decided this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Bream fish. I wanted to do it all day, every day. It was my destiny ... I was the Bream Queen. Dawn kept whining. She wasn't catching anything, but I didn't care. I was on top of the world. I had caught thirty bream! Mr. Debona was bragging on me. "Hell," he'd say, "we're gonna have enough bream to feed the whole gang tonight." Dawn finally caught a few fish, but my total came up to forty-seven! When we pulled up to camp, I sat up high and proud, waving to everyone. "Forty-seven!" Mr. Debona shouted to God and everyone, "She caught forty-seven bream! We're gonna have a fish fry tonight!" Everyone cheered. There I was, the Queen of Bream, providing for the hungry. I smugly rested on my laurels for the rest of the trip. They took a picture of me with my trophy bream. It weighed two pounds. Mr. Debona, who was an expert fisherman, said he'd never heard of anyone catching a bream that big. ~ Not long after that trip things started going to hell. Mr. Debona started calling for my Daddy in the afternoons. "Well, he's at work," I'd say, thinking Mr. Debona was silly. It was a weekday. Where else would my Daddy be during the week? He'd laugh and act surprised, and then he'd want to speak with Mama. No big deal. Except every time he called, Mama would go into her room and shut the door before picking up the phone. One day Mama and I were arguing about why I couldn't wear make-up yet, and in a fit of anger I said: "I think Mr. Debona is your boyfriend, Mama." It wasn't that she slapped me; it was the look in her eyes when she did it. She looked scared. "Don't you ever say things like that," she said. I never said that again, but I had a bad feeling that day. My parents divorced within a year. Finally it came out that Mama and Mr. Debona were "having an affair." My Daddy went through hell. He had been publicly humiliated, he'd lost his children, and his life had suddenly turned to shit. Daddy started drinking a lot and gambling. One time he got really drunk and called Tyler and me on the phone. He said, "No matter what happens, please don't call him Daddy. I am your Daddy, not that sonofabitch." Fifteen years later, Mr. Debona is "Pop." Basically, he raised me. We moved to central Louisiana, bought a lot of land, and Pop bought cows. I became a country girl. I loved it. The chunky little girl who lived in Dawn's shadow hit it big in a rural high school. I became more confident and began to develop a sense of self-esteem. I was a cheerleader, and even Homecoming Queen. Life was good, and Mr. Debona was a good step-dad. It's just that now, when I look at the way Mama and Pop exist together, I see misery. I see resentment and disappointment. Pop is twelve years older than Mama is. Shortly after he retired from the phone company, he developed Parkinson's Disease. So now, Mama is taking care of a sick old man. Pop doesn't laugh anymore. His wrinkles are etched into a permanent frown. They viciously bicker and pick away at each other. My husband once commented to me, "They just don't seem like they love each other." I have my own theories. I think Mama was bored and Pop was going through mid-life crisis. Without a doubt their happiest moments together were that summer -- the summer of barbecues, fish fries, and forbidden looks of passion over drinks with the group. My Mama and I discuss it every now and then. She says that Daddy just didn't make the earth move. There were no fireworks. She was lonely, and Mr. Debona was on fire for her. She was flattered. My Daddy has finally remarried. They live in a nice house in south Louisiana and he seems happy enough. I don't think he ever counted on his life being turned around the way it was. Most of his sorrow comes from missing out on raising Tyler and me. But he carries himself with dignity, despite the hand he was dealt. ~ I see my husband pulling up the driveway now. He sees me through the window and makes a face. Our black and white cocker spaniel sits beside him, getting excited because she knows she's home. My husband doesn't make the earth move for me, and there are definitely no fireworks when we make love. But as I walk to the door to greet him I feel my lips upturn so naturally when I see him. I love his touch, his kindness. He will be an excellent father. He is a good man, loyal and fair. He is so much like my Daddy.
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