Merriton

“What are you doin’ here, Jesus Freak.” A.S. stood at her door, blocking it with her body. Kit Kat squirmed, but the abrupt nature of A.S.’s greeting felt refreshing to her. “I’m not a Jesus Freak. I don’t know why I feel like I have to clarify that with you, but I’m not.” A.S. just looked at her and folded her arms.

Everyone in Merriton had been so very nice to her that she fully expected A.S. to invite her into the warm house. Instead, she stood on the porch, reevaluating her decision to come there. “I just thought I’d come by and have a talk with you.” A.S. shook her head. “I’m a little busy right now.”

The stench of a nursing home wafted out the door and Kit Kat realized that Tortimer was probably sicker than the town had been lead to believe. She nodded and tried to make it quick. “John has been taking me out on dates and I’m a full proponent of family harmony. I’ve always believed that when you are in a relationship with someone, you’re actually in a relationship with their whole family and you’re one of the people I haven’t really talked to since I started dating him.”

A.S. just stood there and looked at her. Kit Kat’s stomach was bloated with pain and she tried to find a way to stand to make it feel better. If she were at home, she would push on her stomach. Somehow, the pressure alleviated some of the spasms. The doctor she had seen Up North had given her a colonoscopy, which had come out clean. He basically told her it was all in her head and prescribed tiny, mint-flavored pills to put under her tongue when her stomach acted up. It acted up all the time, however, and the pills didn’t seem to do anything.

The silence from A.S. was palpable, so Kit Kat continued, nervously, “Of course, I haven’t met his children yet, either. I thought I’d start with you.” A.S. smiled. “You haven’t met MY kids because I told him I’d take away his visitation if he had you over all the time. I have FULL custody. I can do that.”

Suddenly, all those weekends and holidays made sense to Kit Kat. John was under duress. If he introduced her to the children, he would lose his right to see them. She sighed as it all fell into place, but she couldn’t fully relax. Her abdomen was grinding with pain. She let out a silent fart, hoping the snowy wind would whisk away the smell.

“That explains that. I was beginning to wonder what was going on.” She whispered to A.S., “He didn’t even call me on my birthday because he had the children that weekend.” A.S. laughed. “Get used to it, bitch. He isn’t going to EVER remember your birthday or even take the kids to the store and help them buy presents for Mother’s Day. He’s not very good at making the holidays special.”

A.S. was warning her about John, but all Kit Kat could focus on was the fact that she had called her a “bitch.” When was the last time anyone had called her a bitch? That panhandler who always stood outside of Dim Sum Go Go? Was it him? No, he had called her a cunt. Then Kit Kat remembered. The grumpy barista at the Dunkin Donuts. Kit Kat hadn’t noticed that her coffee was ready and the girl behind the counter had screamed, “Hey, bitch!” at her until she picked up her coffee.

A flash of nostalgia washed over her and she literally missed being called names by strangers. She and A.S. had always been enemies throughout high school as much as girls two years apart could be enemies. This aggressive anger that A.S. had for her somehow felt comforting to Kit Kat. Everyone had been so very nice to her in Merriton. It had felt so inviting, but at the same time, disconcerting. Kit Kat smiled at the animosity. For the briefest of moments, A.S. had made her feel like she was back in New York.

“And another thing you better get used to, he’s gonna go all Jesus Freak on you. If you’re not a Jesus Freak, then you’re in for a world of boredom. He’s probably trying to think about ways to get you to church right now.” A sickly sweet smile crossed her face; one that Kit Kat had become accustomed to in the wards of the LDS church. “Well, hello, Sister Townsend. It’s so nice to have you back with us.”

The syrupy voice made Kit Kat cringe. The intensely nice people who had made weekly visits to her seemed normal compared to that Relief Society president who had visited her when she first moved to Merriton. What was her name? She couldn’t even remember. In fact, Kit Kat only remembered her introducing herself as the Relief Society president as if she didn’t need to provide any other introductions.

“I don’t remember John being all that obsessed with religion when we were in high school. In fact, I remember a particular incident in that back room where they store the gymnastic mats that seemed to indicate otherwise.” A.S. blushed at Kit Kat’s words. She hadn’t been one of the gymnasts who had found the two of them in flagrante, but word had spread through the high school back then. Kit Kat watched as A.S. nodded and then put her hands on her hips.

“That’s EXACTLY what I’m talking about. He didn’t used to be like that.” She folded her arms again. “He doesn’t believe me when I tell him that.” The conversation with A.S. had been very helpful. John had been vindicated of neglecting her on the holidays and weekends, but at the same time, this disturbing feature of his personality had been revealed. If what A.S. said was true, John was more interested in her profession than her as a person. How would he feel when he found out that she was actually an atheist?

“By the way, you really need to do something about those farts. They smell like death.” Kit Kat flushed with embarrassment. Never mind the fact that A.S.’s house literally smelled like death, her gas had been bad enough to overpower even that. “I don’t really have control over it. It’s caused by stress, you raunch.”

A.S. shook her head. “Not farts like that. Correlation isn’t causation, you stupid bitch. Just because stress aggravates your…” she paused and gave a look of disgust, “…issue, doesn’t mean it caused it. Gluten and lactose are the two biggest food irritants, so try cutting wheat and dairy out of your diet for a few weeks. Maybe that will help.” A.S. walked back into the house and shut the door without another word.

Not even the doctor Up North had mentioned the concept of food causing the problem, but Kit Kat was in so much pain that she was willing to try anything to make it stop.