The Opposite Of Tidy (8 page)

On the morning of the bottle drive, Junie woke to the steady patter of rain. She pulled on the outfit she and Tabitha had agreed on the night before and made her way downstairs. Her mother had slept in her chair again, for the seventeenth day in a row.

“Mom.”

A line of drool crept down her chin. Her hair was smashed flat on one side and sticking up on the other. She was snoring, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her open laptop was perched on her thighs.

“Mom!”

“Unh?” She opened her eyes. “What?”

“You should sleep in your bed. That’s what they’re for.”

“What?” She blinked, still sleepy.

“Beds are for sleeping. Chairs are not. You should sleep in your
bed
.”

“Maybe I did.” Her mother sat up a little, set aside the computer and stretched her arms. “Maybe I got up early and came down.”

“No. You slept right there. All night. Again.”
Like a loser
, she wanted to add. “There’s no way you can sleep in your own bed because it’s covered in dirty clothes and junk.”

“And so what if I did sleep here? What’s it to you?” Junie could think of all kinds of answers to that, but she held her tongue. Her mother stretched again and then pushed herself up out of the chair and headed for the bathroom, leaving a great big sag in the chair in the shape of her butt. Junie shook her head and hurried into the kitchen to get something to eat. She and Tabitha got groceries once a week, so at least she knew there was food. She grabbed the bread and stuck two pieces into the toaster.

On her way back to the chair, her mother passed through the kitchen, where Junie was eating at the table, which was piled high above her head with her mother’s crap, except for the tiny wedge Junie kept clear for herself. Her whole family used to eat at this table, but not for many years. At first her mom had used the table just to “organize” her things as she brought them home or they arrived in the mail. And then it became the first dumping ground and they ate dinner in front of the TV in the living room. That’s when Junie knew something was wrong. She was old enough to know that good families ate dinner together around the table. Even families of two, like Tabitha and her mom. They still ate dinner together every night at the dining room table, with cloth placemats ironed flat and
cloth napkins tucked neatly into carved pewter rings, and smudge-less glasses and cutlery set in the proper place and order.

“Where’re you off to so early?” her mother asked the fridge, staring at its insides.

That fridge was actually one of the cleanest spots in the house. About a year ago, the old fridge had gotten so disgusting, with expired tubs of unrecognizable foodstuffs and moulding fruit and soured milk and leaking jars of ancient condiments, that Junie’s mother had ordered a new fridge online, and had just abandoned the other one rather than clean it out. The delivery guy had brought it in through the sliding glass door off the dining room, and grudgingly wrestled it along the narrow trail through the detritus to wedge it in beside the old fridge. He’d taken one surreptitious peak into the other one and did not offer to cart it away. So there it stood. Junie had taken ownership of the new fridge, and that’s why it was the third-cleanest spot in the house, after her room and the one bathroom she kept spotless too.

“I told you. Today is the bottle drive.”

“Right.”

“You forgot.”

“Right.” She took a slice of cold pizza from a greasy box, hesitated, and then helped herself to another one. “But it’s all coming back to me now.”

“Oh, really?” Junie set her cereal bowl down with a deliberate clatter. “Then tell me, why is this not just a bottle drive? Why is it actually something much more important?”

A piece of pizza in each hand, her mother winked at her. “I believe his name is Wade. Wade Jaffre.”

She had remembered. Junie was genuinely surprised. And impressed. She’d told her about him while her mother watched the Shopping Channel.
Superstorage System! Holds up to twelve pairs of shoes and just slides away under the bed! For just $19.95, we’ll send you two Superstorage Systems PLUS the Handyman Keychain, with eight different screw heads!
Four of them were on the way. One for her, one for Junie’s father—even though he’d left them for That Woman—one for Junie, and one spare in case any of them lost theirs. Just what they needed.

“He’s the one you have a crush on, right?” She took a bite of pizza. “And Tabitha too?”

“He’s the one that half of the girls at school have a crush on, but yes. Both of us too.”

“That’s not good.” Her mother shook her head. “What are you going to do when he picks one of you over the other?”

“He won’t pick either of us, I bet. He’s just being nice. Getting us to help him out with the bottle drive. I’m sure that there are plenty of grade eleven girls he could choose from.”

“Sounds like he’s being more than nice. Sounds like he’s courting you. Both of you.”

Junie cringed at the word “courting.” Who said “courting” any more? And what would her mother know about it anyway? The last time she’d gone on a date was over twenty years ago. And that was with Junie’s father, who’d been her first and only boyfriend. So there was no
way that Junie would take any so-called “courting” advice from her mother.

Junie brought her bowl to the sink—which she insisted on being kept clear after she’d found a writhing colony of maggots in a heap of unwashed dishes a few months before—and rinsed it.

“Besides, if he picks one of us, he’ll pick Tabitha. She’s prettier.”

“She is not. You’re both beautiful.”

“You have to say that.”

“And I would anyway.” She took another bite of pizza.

Junie gave her a long, sad look. This was the mother she missed so much that it actually hurt her, drawing a tightness around her heart that made it hard to breathe. This mother, the one who took an interest in her instead of all the crap she ordered off the Internet and all the sparkling junk from the Shopping Channel. The one who asked questions and was interested in the answers.

“You’re beautiful, Junie.”

Junie wished she could say the same for her mother. She had been beautiful, back when she was first dating Junie’s dad. There were pictures as proof. Snapshots of the two of them going to prom, dressed up in their tragically outdated finery, beaming at each other. But she’d been wearing the same filthy clothes for five days now, and likely hadn’t washed in as long either. Junie wanted to shove her mother into the bathroom, make her strip and then force her to get into the shower and actually take care of herself. Where had that polished, slender earlier version of her mom gone?

Her mother turned away, as if she knew what Junie was thinking. They both heard the familiar theme song of the British soap opera her mom watched on the weekend. On Saturday mornings they played all of the week’s episodes back to back.

“
Coronation Street
is starting.” Her mother hesitated in the doorway, her cold pizza slices drooping. “Don’t you even want a plate?” Junie cringed. She didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but she did anyway. Junie tried that again. “I mean, can I get you a plate?”

Her mom looked at her, her face blank. “Yes. Please.”

Junie got a plate from the cupboard and held it out to her.

“You know, Junie . . . I don’t . . . I mean, I never . . .” She took the plate and arranged the pizza on it before wiping her hands on her pants. “I just want to tell you that I don’t want to be like this. The hoarding just crept up and now—”

“You don’t have to explain—”

“I see the way you look at me. At all of this.” She gestured around her with the pizza. “When I was a little girl, I never imagined I’d end up like this. I wanted so much more for myself. And for you, too.”

Junie felt a wash of shame flood her veins. “I don’t—”

“You
do
. And that’s okay. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be you, Junie. Living with this. With
me
.”

The phone rang. Junie lunged for it, so very thankful to have a way to stop the conversation from unravelling even more.

“Hello?”

“Your boyfriend called.” Wade had Tabitha’s number as Junie’s, and vice versa. So far that hadn’t been a problem because he hadn’t called either of them, but to be on the safe side, they’d both recorded generic messages with no names. Mrs. D. was in on it, and Junie’s mom never answered the phone, so it didn’t matter on that end. Neither of the girls had cell phones. Not since they’d each been given one for Christmas and the bills were over six hundred dollars by the end of January. And that was just from calling and texting each other. They were still paying them off.

“Or
your
boyfriend. Did you talk to him?”

Tabitha sighed. “No, I saw it was his number, so I had my mom pick it up. I’m not stupid.”

Junie’s mom was back in the living room, her soap playing loudly, working-class English accents sharp and jangly.

“No, but you
want
him to know the truth, so I could see you ‘screwing up’ just so my lie would be exposed. I know you’re trying to play along . . . but I also know that you don’t really want to.”

“Good morning, Junie. How are you today?” Tabitha’s words were awash in sarcasm. “I, for one, am just peachy. Thanks for asking, rather than launching into a critique of my morals, which are just peachy too, by the way.”

“Sorry,” Junie said. “Good morning, Tabitha. What did Wade want?”

“He told my mom he was calling to see if you wanted a ride.”

As if on cue, the phone beeped. Junie looked at the Caller ID. Jaffre. “He’s calling here.”

“Offering me a ride, I bet.”

“Should I get it?”

“No, because
this
is supposed to be your house.”

“Right, well . . . I’ll come over there and we can call him back together.”

“This is getting ridiculous, Junie.”

“Ridiculous or not, Tabitha, I trumped you. And don’t you and your peachy morals forget it.”

Junie grabbed an umbrella and made her way through the rain and wind to Tabitha’s house. Mrs. D. greeted her at the door with a frown. She was dressed to go out and had a rolled up yoga mat hanging over her shoulder in its own narrow bag.

“You know I don’t like all this lying, Junie.”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry, Mrs. D. I promise to set it straight as soon as I can.”

“I trust you will.” She slipped her water bottle into her purse and collected her keys. “I’ve set out a box of bottles for the drive. It’s in the garage by the recycling.”

“Great, thanks.”

One step out the door, she turned and said, “I don’t like you trumping Tabitha on this one, honey. Just so you know. Think about what you’re doing, okay?”

Junie blanched. “Okay, Mrs. D., I will.”

Junie stomped up the stairs to Tabitha’s room. “You told your mom that I trumped you about Wade?”

“Yep. Unlike some of us, I don’t lie.”

There wasn’t much Junie could say to that. Tabitha
handed her the phone and she called Wade, thanking him for his offer of a ride and explaining that Tabitha was already at her house.

Before he got there, they decided that Tabitha would sit in the front, so she’d have her chance to flirt with him.

“Because the minute he finds out that I’ve been lying to him, he’ll choose you anyway, so what does it matter?”

“I’m lying to him too.”

“Not really. You’re just playing along with my big fat lie. And no, I’m not calling my mother fat.”

“Good.”

Wade honked his horn, so they dashed out into the rain, Junie carrying the box of bottles from Tabitha’s house.

“Ladies,” he said as they shook off the rain and buckled up their seatbelts. He glanced at the box and then turned to Tabitha, “Any from your house?”

“Those are—”

“From both of our houses,” Junie finished before Tabitha could barrel forward, being honest without thinking.

Tabitha turned and rolled her eyes at Junie as Wade pulled away from the curb. There were probably more empty bottles in Junie’s house than they’d collect for the whole drive, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

The bottle drive was in the far corner of the mall parking lot. Lulu and Ollie had beaten them there and were struggling to put up a big white tent to cover the area where they’d be sorting the bottles. Between the five of them, they managed to get it up and set up the tables that Ollie’s dad had brought in the back of his truck.

“Who’s supposed to do what?” Lulu asked once everything was ready.

“Lulu and Tabitha can greet people and take their bottles,” Wade said. “Ollie, Junie and I can sort them out. How does that sound?”

Tabitha shot Junie a look.
See? He likes you best
, she said with her eyes, and for the first time, Junie wondered if she might be right.