The Rusalka and Mr. Right (Monster Brides Romance)

Chapter Two

“ I got the job! Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!” My dad struts across the screen, Duke sweatshirt on display and Penn State baseball cap on his head, even though Mom keeps the house at like eighty degrees, even in August.

“Which job? Where?” My mother appears in front of him, fingers crossed. “Please not Florida, please not Florida...”

“New York!”

“Oh! Oh, baby, you’re going to be in one of those big cities?” Her face is instantly tortured. “You know that’s why your father and I didn’t want to live in Philly.”

I sigh. “Allentown’s big enough. I went to college in Philly, Mom.”

“But you commuted ! You lived at home until your junior year!”

“I think riding the train into Philly every day might have been more dangerous than living on campus, Mom.”

“Esther, he’s grown.”

I am. I’m six years older than my twin brothers who are at Duke and Penn State respectively, both on different athletic scholarships. I’m the odd man out. I went to Temple on a full ride—for chemistry, which soon became medicine, and then narrowed to physical therapy.

“Why are you moving to New York now ? You’ve got one year left before you have your doctorate!”

“It’s not a doctorate, Mom. Finishing the six-year program means I’ll be a doctor of physical therapy. It’s not gonna be Dr. Kev, M.D.”

“My son will still be called Dr. Kevin Bailey.”

I try not to roll my eyes in view of the camera—that’ll earn a lecture. Going to school for six years to get a DPT is faster than the typical seven-year program—but it’s also more expensive than just getting a four-year degree. “You know I have to afford that sixth and final year—here or somewhere else. Salaries around here are a joke compared to the rent.”

“Move home, baby!”

What is the politest way to tell your dear, sweet mother, “Hell, no?”

I try. “I found a private hospital that does full tuition reimbursement with NYU, and they have an NYU branch campus within five miles of the hospital complex. Not only that, NYU at Pine Ridge accepted all of my credits, and I’ll be able to enter the last year of their traditional seven-year DPT program. That’s a miracle, Mom.”

“Smells fishy. Something’s wrong. Pine Ridge NYU? That's the campus?”

“Mhm.”

“In the city?”

“No, in this little town called Pine Ridge. It’s actually in the mountains.”

My mother looks heavenward. “That’s the problem. It’s in the mountains? It’s a little town in the mountains of New York? That town is going to be all white people.”

“Ma!” I’m dying inside.

“Do they know you’re black?”

“ Ma ! Stop that.” Honestly, I could be the only black dude on staff, but do I care?

Not as long as they pay well, treat me right, and throw in that tuition reimbursement!

“Oh, Lord. It’s going to be like an L.L. Bean catalog up there, and you’ll come home looking like Carlton from Fresh Prince .” My mother is offscreen now, but I can hear her muttering.

“Wait, that’s what’s wrong? You’re worried I’ll develop bad fashion ?” I look down at my outfit. Polo shirt with a Temple Owls’ logo. Sweatpants. “Have you seen what Dad wears every day?”

“Hey!” My father glares.

“Help!” I mouth. My eyes roll pointedly in Mom’s direction.

We nod as one.

“If it’s some horrible, bigoted place, I’ll come right back home.” I cross my fingers under the desk. I need to get away from my parents. I’m almost twenty-seven, and I’ve always lived within an hour and a half from my parents, if not under their roof. I need some breathing room! No parents, no wild little brothers, no roommates, no checking in. I’ve always lived at home, in the dorm, or now with three guys who are also all struggling to finish school, make rent, and hold down a job. I’ve always been the big, responsible brother, the oldest “good example” son. Nothing against being a good guy (I’m actually into that), but I’d like to do it without an audience or my helicopter mother.

“Esther, it’ll be a good place for grandkids,” my dad says. That’s his way of helping.

It’s no help at all . I glare. Thank you so much, Dad. Throw some lighter fluid on the fire, why don’t you ?

“Grandbabies? What grandbabies?” My mother practically sends my dad into orbit, shoving him backward in the rolling chair so her face fills the screen of their old laptop computer. “It’s not that Laura girl, is it? I didn’t like her. Is it Shanise? She’s nice, sweetie.”

“There is no girl at the moment. Laura was just a friend. Shanise and I broke up in May. There are no grandbabies. None. And there will not be for years.”

My mother pouts. My father eases his way back to the front and center, pulling my mother into his lap.

“Look, I just want a job where I can make a decent salary while I finish getting my DPT. You know it’s been a nightmare juggling work and classes. I’ve been in this six-year program for almost eight years at this point! There’s either no money for a class or not enough time to take one, or a job that won’t let me be flexible with my course schedule.” I could go on, but my father now has to do his two-minute “we have to help the twins with their undergrad degree first” speech. This happens whenever I bring up the typical struggles of living in an Inflation Apocalypse.

“Now, you know that ‘full ride’ for Cal and Carter didn’t really cover everything, son. Carter needs a car, and Penn State isn’t giving Cal a stipend for his books and lab fees—”

My eyes glaze over and I nod seriously.

Time to run interference.

My fingers drum across my phone screen, pulling up my “Brothers Only Chat”.

Kev: Mom and Dad are up in my shit again. I got the job in NY. Help. Run interference.

Carter: Can’t. Swim practice just started. Coach looks hangry.

Calvin: Give me five minutes. I’m waiting to hand off my orientees.

Carter: Cal, what the hell is Penn State thinking putting you in charge of anything?

Calvin: The same thing Duke was thinking naming you MVP last year.

Kev: You are both infants. Why does Mom fixate on me when you two obviously need so much more help?

Calvin: Be nice, or I won’t call to tell her some fake problem about my laundry or my debit card.

“I hope you understand, Kev.”

“Oh! Yeah. I do, Dad. Totally. One hundred percent.” God, what did I just agree to? I hope it was the standard financial-slash-parenting guilt speech. “Um. So. I have to pack up my room. I already have someone interested in taking my spot.”

“But... It’s so far away!”

“It’s not Florida, Mom, and it sure as heck isn’t North Carolina! I’m just a little bit farther away.” I give her my best “soothing an angry patient” tone.

“Baby, pull up pictures of Pine Ridge.” My mother pulls her glasses from the neckline of her flowered shirt and perches them on her nose. My father squints over the top of his bifocals, lips moving as he types.

They’re only around sixty, my parents, and they still call each other “baby.” They still act like they’re raising three rambunctious little boys at home. My dad still sniffs the back of my mom’s neck every time he passes by her while she cooks in the kitchen and says, “Mm- hmm , that smells good enough to eat—and the dinner’s not bad either!”

I’m ready for that. I’ve been ready for so long.

You try dating while your mother watches.

“It looks really nice, Esther. Look how pretty.”

“Hm. Okay. I guess we can ask for a week off to help you move, Kev.”

“I’ve got this. It’s just one room and a U-Haul. I’m going to tow the car behind.”

My dad looks like he can’t wait to unburden himself of fatherly advice. “Ooh, okay, now when you’re towing a car—”

“Baby, wait!” My mother hushes him. “Should you be moving alone? You could put your back out.”

“I know how to avoid a strain, Mom. You guys shouldn’t take time off from work. You’re going to be traveling all over for Carter and Calvin this season. Save the time off.”

“He’s right about that. Carter sent me the swim meet schedule last night. He’s gonna be in Texas one week and South Carolina the next, then up in North Carolina and over to Tennessee.” Dad removes his glasses and shakes his head, but he’s beaming. His youngest son is at an “Ivy Plus” university. He smooths his hand over the large white D on his shirt, face spreading into a smile.

Mom notices this, and instantly, it’s a game of “Fix Kevin.”

If she knew how many other people I’ve fixed or at least stabilized—drunk college girls, bros going through break ups, stranded girls who missed the last train out of Temple University Station, the injured, the mentally desperate, the people who are too high to come to class, too depressed to remember how to shower...

Hey, Mom, remember the time you and Dad were away for the weekend and Calvin barfed all over Nana’s handmade quilt and Carter accidentally clogged both toilets? And the hamsters got loose during the twins’ pillow fight? No, you don’t, because even sixteen-year-old Kev was in control. I’ve always been in “Fix-It Mode.” You never even knew, and my little brothers owe me for life.

Sometimes I think she forgets that my degree wasn’t the only kind of education I got.

“Kevin, that could have been you. You were always just as good as Carter in the pool, and maybe even faster than Calvin on the track.”

“Mom. I like running and swimming as forms of relaxation, not competition.”

My father crosses his arms and looks at my mother. “You sure he’s mine?”

She pretends to smack him. “You know you’re my only honey bunny, honey bunny!”

Someone needs to stop them.

I’m about to fake an emergency appliance explosion. (You’d be amazed at how many of my appliances have “malfunctioned” during video and phone calls with my parents over the years. They think I just have really crappy landlords.) “Mom, I think I—”

“Oh, honey, Calvin is calling. I’d better take this.” Mom stops making moon eyes at my dad and snags her phone from the pockets of her scrub pants.

“You go ahead, Mom. I promise, I can handle everything myself.”