Part 2

I guess you can say that when I cut off those curls, I cut off the chance of Marybeth ever becoming a part of our lifelong sisterhood. With Marybeth came lingering problems to our extended family. There were always many fights during December, around the same time of Marybeth’s birthday. Heidi (Marybeth’s mother) would break down our cheap front door, and order another visit with her daughter. Heidi had harbored anger to everyone in our immediate family, reviewing each detail on the short, but eventful marriage bonanza between Dad and her.
Their divorce occurred after my dad was caught with “the promiscuous” woman (my mom) and had visibly knocked her up. Dad still goes back to those days with Heidi, shaking his head. “ Too young for those kinds of decisions, definitely too young for a kid.” I find it to be kinda funny that Heidi could call mom a promiscuous woman, when she too had become pregnant at the end of high school. Back then, I think that Dad DID love her, but only as much as you could love an eighteen-year-old that lost her successful future (scholarships to the University of Michigan and title as a solitarian.) to make the decision of carrying the unwanted Marybeth. At six, I did wonder if Heidi was ruining Mom and Dad‘s marriage. Heidi’s personality and determination to win the court’s approval for custody often wore thin on Mom’s patience. The reason Dad didn’t give into Heidi’s plea’s was because of two reasons. One: Our family didn’t have enough to pay for joint custody child support let alone full child-support. Two: The question of how good Heidi would constitute as the mother-figure. Heidi was a young-minded twenty year old and dealt with her own demons alone. Heidi couldn’t get custody with the evidence of her growing alcohol-problem, living in an even shabbier house than us, and her genuine lack of responsibility. Yup, Heidi had all odds against her, yet never let up on the determination. She would take us to court for Marybeth’s lack of maternal visits and how it would affect her later on in life. Ironically, Marybeth treated my mom like her own, but could never treat Kaiyla and me like her sisters.
It wasn’t until I turned nine that realization hit like a boulder. The February weather had made the three block trek from school a battle of snow, ice, and wind. When I got my humble abode, I believe the February weather had nothing on the cold and bitterness in our home. A glass darted across the living room towards Mom. Mom was either screaming that Heidi needed to either take Marybeth and go away or Dad had to find someone who could handle all this marriage trauma. Dad took the alternate choice of flipping the loveseat over and pushed me out of the way to leave. Kaiyla appeared in the doorway behind me. We both looked at each other, and both knew with the same gut-feeling. It was the end before the words were even uttered.