Fancy White Trash by Marjetta Geerling Page A

nods, and I could kick him for not talking to Brian.
    â€œTell him when you did this,” I prompt.
    For a second, it looks like Cody’s not going to answer. Then he says, “Third grade.”
    â€œMan,” Brian says. “But I guess my closet looks pretty much the same as it did back then, too. A total disaster.”
    Another thing Brian and I have in common. “Me, too. Cody’s helped me a bunch of times, but I guess I don’t have the discipline it takes.” Or the anal retentiveness, or the cleaning lady who comes every other week to keep the rest of the room under control.
    â€œThanks for showing me,” Brian says. “I think I’m inspired to tame my own closet clutter.”
    Cody flicks his gaze my way, like I should do something. But what? I know he won’t like what I’m going to do next.
    â€œCody could help you!” I say it like this brilliant idea has just occurred to me. “Maybe this weekend? Cody and I could come over. It’d be just like one of those shows!”
    â€œLike HGTV?” Brian’s smile is really big and shows that one tooth is slightly crooked. This guy is so perfectly imperfect I could gag. “Awesome.”
    â€œGreat.” I seal the deal with a handshake. “Your designer, Cody, and his lovely assistant, me, will be glad to reorganize your closet. Hey, we could do before-and-after pictures!”
    Brian gets into the idea. “I’ll take the before pics tonight, and you guys can come over tomorrow. This will be perfect.” His smile is for Cody, but Cody is looking out the window. His eyes are big.
    â€œWhat is it?” The view from Cody’s room is of my driveway.
    â€œSteve’s home.”
    I rush to the window and jerk the blinds up and out of my way. Sure enough, the Guitar Player is in the driveway already getting into it with Mom. There is a tall, model-thin woman next to him. She must be the Guitar Groupie he stayed with when Kait was in the hospital. They are standing in front of a new Ford Focus. My first thought is how did she bend all that leg into such a tiny car? My second thought is I better get home right now. Because Mom was willing to buy the “She’s just a friend” line over the phone, but it looks like now that they’ve met in person, things are not all happy in Newlywed Land.
    It’s dark, but that too-bright streetlight in front of our house illuminates the scene perfectly. The Guitar Player, motionless between the Groupie and my mom. The Groupie’s jaw chomping up and down on a piece of gum.
    The Guitar Player’s voice floats from the driveway and through Cody’s open window. “Mona, I swear it didn’t mean anything.”
    And to make things worse, a loud baby wail from my bedroom announces that Kait and Stephanie are watching it all from our window.
    Kait flings open the window and holds Stephanie up. “Steve, look at our daughter! Isn’t she beautiful?”
    Steve swivels his head around, and Kait actually dangles Stephanie out the window. Gustavo is behind her, engaged in a bit of careful wrestling to get the baby back into the room, but Kait won’t be budged.
    I stick my own head out Cody’s window and scream, “Kait, get the baby inside now !”
    She reels Stephanie back in. The Guitar Player’s head swings from the window, to the Groupie, to my mom.
    â€œYou said it was over with her,” the Groupie says, snapping her gum. Whether she means Mom or Kait or both is unclear.
    â€œOver?” Mom shouts, hands clenching at her sides. “You bet it’s over!”
    Mrs. Duran from across the street comes outside with a watering can. Only she doesn’t water any of her dying flowers, just stands in the drive and stares. The Guitar Player shouts something, then Mom yells back. Kait is crying and Stephanie lets out a scream loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood.
    â€œI’d better get