Of volume lineage

XIX

 

Isabella

 

I adjusted the final cupcake, smiling to myself as I finished the layout. Each cupcake had a dinosaur made from icing as the decoration. From orange stegosauruses to purple pterodactyls, I had spent hours cultivating little spines, tales, and wings. My fingers were permanently damaged from shaping the fondant icing.

I was feeling good about my dinosaur cupcakes until I saw what the other moms had made.

Talina Holloway had created a five-tier cake that was Alice in Wonderland themed, with the top tier being shaped like a top hat. Frances A

I looked down at my little bitch cupcakes and cringed. Marzia was going to be so embarrassed, I thought. All her friend’s moms had created these incredible cakes that deserved to be on a tv show, while I had made dinosaurs that didn’t even look realistic.

The bake sale had been set up in the school’s gymnasium, which even though was flash, it smelt faintly of sweaty socks and deodorant. All the tables were lined up in a rectangle, and when I had arrived, Frances had sent me to the very far back, the table right next to the bathroom.

“Oh, how cute!” Talina said in a high-pitched and exaggerated voice when she saw me. She was wearing an apron with little flowers on it despite the fact she was no longer cooking. In comparison, I was wearing a black suit with matching stilettos. “They’re little dinosaurs. So quaint.”

I remained seated, swinging one leg over the other and reclining back. I may be feeling self-conscious about my cupcakes on the inside but there was no way I was letting Miss Perfect know that. “Thank you. Your cake is cute too…Is it based off Labyrinth?”

Her smile froze on her face. “It’s Alice in Wonderland.”

“Oh, my bad.”

Talina left me after that, joining the other congregation of mothers. Soon after, the children filled the gym, scurrying over to their parent’s or the coolest looking cakes. I sca

“Marzia!” I called. The woman beside me flinched at how loud I was.

She turned at her name. When she saw me across the gym, her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped. Then a huge grin grew over her face, stretching from ear to ear. She tugged on the girl beside her, pointed at me, and then ran across the gym.

“Hi there,” I said when she reached me. “Sorry, the cupcakes aren’t as cool as you were hoping–”

Marzia was not listening to me. She leaned over the cupcakes. “Dinosaurs! Oh my God!” She jumped up and down, ponytails swinging with the movement. “They’re soooo awesome!”

I felt my cheeks warm. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Can I have one?”

“Of course. Pick which one you want.”

Marzia grabbed a pterodactyl (I was not surprised) then seated herself next to me behind the table.

“You don’t want to eat with your friends?”

“Nope.” She chewed happily.

I smiled to myself. A few kids came around and bought some cupcakes, as well as some parents and teachers. No one could’ve bought one and I wouldn’t have given a shit; Marzia thought they were awesome. What made my day was whenever a teacher came around, Marzia was the first to introduce me.

“This is Isabella, my stepmommy,” she told them all. “She made all these cakes by herself.”

Most of the teachers sung their praises about Marzia. My stepdaughter was conscientious and inquisitive student, they told me eagerly. She was a pleasure to teach. I nodded sagely as they told me all this, though beneath my sharp eyeliner and blood-red lips, I was shining with pride. I was not surprised Marzia was the best in class; the other kids didn’t look nearly as exceptional as my girl.

One of her classmates ate a cupcake wrapper and two of the teachers had to force him to spit it up.

I even got to meet the infamous Mister Burrows. He was a stern-looking man wearing a dark green vest despite the heat. When Marzia spotted him, she scowled.

“You’re Marzia’s mother?” He asked.

“I am,” I said curtly. I didn’t offer him a cupcake.

“I’m Marzia’s English teacher.”

I plucked the head off the t-rex I was eating. “She mentioned.”

Mister Burrows looked faintly nervous. “She’s an excellent reader. One of the best in the class.”

“Yes, she is.”

Marzia glanced at me, her lips twitching with a smile.

He swallowed. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

I just smiled.

Mister Burrows scurried off. Once he was out of sight, I said to Marzia, “He seems awful.” I had no idea how he was–we had exchanged ten words–but my loyalties lay with Marzia.

She nodded in agreement. “He sucks.”

“Do you want another cupcake?”

“Aren’t you meant to be selling them?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll write the school a check.”

Marzia’s grin dimmed as she spotted someone approaching our booth. I turned and spotted two girls around Marzia’s age. Orchid and Hattie, the little girls who Marzia seemed afraid of.

I pulled my shoulders up, readying to attack.

“What are they?” Orchid asked.

“Dinosaurs,” I told her. Marzia had gone quiet.

Hattie went to grab one, but I snatched my hand out, covering the cupcakes. “I’m sorry, those aren’t for you.” She went to grab a second one, but I covered it. “Not that one either. Sorry, love.”

Marzia’s lips twitched.

The girls scowled. “I’m going to tell my mom,” Orchid snapped.

“Off you go, then.”

The pair of them left, beelining for Talina and Frances, their snotty faces scrunched up into frowns. I was not surprised that the seven-year-olds were the daughters of the worst moms in the PTA. The apple never fell far from the tree.

“That was mean.”

I cocked a brow at Marzia. “I am mean.” A smudge of icing had gotten on Marzia’s cheek, and I licked my finger to scrub it off. She leaned back, whining about the grossness, but let me clean her up. “When does this end?”

“It goes all day.”

All day? I swallowed my groan. But seeing Marzia’s smile when she spotted me more than made up for the frustration I felt. Deep inside me, skipping and cartwheeling over my liver and appendix, was the little girl who was waiting by the playground for a mother who was never going to pick her up.

It’ll be different once all this is over, I told myself as I tried to remember how it felt when Mother brushed her hands over my cheek, embracing me. Instead of warmth and love, her hands felt like skeleton bones, digging painfully into my face. That’s not the real memory, that’s just your overactive imagination.

Yet...I wasn’t sure.

I wasn’t sure of much these days.

 

Giova

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you making a joke, Giova

His lips twitched but he didn’t respond.

Before the sun had risen, Giova