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I’ll tell you what Carl was doing—well, maybe I won’t. I’ll tell you this, it wasn’t with only my mom. It didn’t take long for the rumors about Carl’s cheating ways to get back to Mom. The town’s population of two thousand was a real killjoy for ol’ Carl. Sadly, it wasn’t enough for Mom to leave him. The final straw had to come at my expense. Carl’s hungry eyes started to rove over me, so I locked and pushed my dresser in front of my bedroom door every night I was home. But then one night he came home drunk, and in front of Mom asked if I wanted him to tuck me in and teach me how to be a woman. I still squirmed thinking about it.
The AD period of my life began with one slap across Carl’s face and his clothes being thrown out the apartment window. That night did something to Mom. The impact her choices were having on me finally dawned on her, though it should have been obvious well before that. I was hardly coming home at the time. One of the only friends I had made in that desolate town, Ginny, had the nicest parents who were not fooled by Carl. I had an open invitation to eat with them or spend the night anytime I wanted. I took them up on it, not only because I hated Carl, but because Ginny had an older brother, Riley.
Riley was my first kiss and the first time I ever got an inkling of why Mom was obsessed with the opposite sex. That smooth-talking boy of seventeen used to tell me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever met. Even prettier than the poster he had of Reese Witherspoon in his bedroom. He used to pick me daisies and write me little notes. That case of puppy love didn’t last long. It all ended with dynamite.
Mom decided to proclaim herself cured of men in a grand fashion. I’m not sure where she got the idea to blow up all five of her wedding dresses—from the micro white dress all the way to the ball gown she’d worn for her wedding to Carl—or where she got the dynamite. But I’ll never forget the night she and I stood on the rocky ridge overlooking a barren wasteland outside of town with her friend Callie, who was higher than a kite. I think Callie was the one who borrowed the dynamite. The sun was about to set, and its last rays gave the endless dirt and rocks a little bit of character. Mom held me tight with one hand while she held the detonator with the other. Before God, she swore she was done with men and that they all deserved to be returned to sender.
Then Mom smiled at me with tears streaking down her porcelain face. “Promise me, Ariana, you’ll stay away from men, all of them. Promise me you’ll return any man that comes your way. They’re nothing but a heartache waiting to happen.”
I thought about Riley and how sweet he was and his kisses that made me feel warm from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. In my teenage heart, I knew I could and would be smarter than my mom. I was certain I could find a man who didn’t ever have to be returned like all the men in my mom’s life. In my naivety, I was positive I would always choose nice boys like Riley. But given my mom’s unstable state and the fact she was holding a detonator in her hand, I could hardly disagree with her. And in that moment, I wanted her to be happy. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen her truly happy. So, I nodded my head with my fingers crossed behind my back. “I promise,” I’d said, lying to her for the very first time. It wasn’t the last.
Satisfied with my response, Mom squeezed my hand, and with the most maniacal laugh I’d ever heard, she pushed the detonator. I’m not sure how much dynamite she used, but she lit up the night like the Fourth of July. Remnants of the dresses mixed with dirt and gravel rained down on us. Mom twirled around in it like it was washing away every mistake she had ever made. From that night on, she was true to her word. She never again had anything to do with a man except her father. We moved back home to Pine Falls and there she began her life of celibacy.
Meanwhile, I was starting to explore the wonders of the opposite sex. It was unfortunate how wonderful and tingly they could make me feel. Those intoxicating feelings had me lying to Mom about hanging out with friends when I was really meeting boyfriends, whether it was at the movies or school dances. I hated the lying because I’d been lied to so much growing up, but I felt it was unfair for me to miss out on dating just because my mom had a problem. After all, I was smarter than her.
