rough story

I want to write a story where context dictates rather than verbose words. This is about a woman whose struggling with divorce and being a single parent of a difficult child.

Shandra’s hair used to be beautiful before she put those dyes into it. It used to be black with cute little curls that would bounce up and down when she ran. But she straightens it now and she just dyed it blue but that could change tomorrow for all I know. We’re eating dinner, just the two of us. Its been like that for about five years now, ever since her dad up and left us for that slut Cheryl. I knew something was up between those two, years ago. He was always evasive about her whenever I used to bring her up. She was the receptionist at his firm. I heard from different gals at his office that those two were always going to lunch together, that they got pretty close over the years. That tight-assed bimbo gets me steamin’ every time I think about her. Well see who hot she still is in the next couple years. But He sends money every month, so I can’t complain.
Its quiet at the table. I’m chewing with my mouth closed, trying to be a good example for Shandra, but shes looking down, avoiding eyecontact eith me, presumably trying to make the diner as painless for herself as she can. But tonight she’s not right, there’s this uneasiness to her, she’s edgy.
“What’s wrong honey?” she looks up from her plate and scowls at me.
“Nothing.” She says then goes back to eating.
“There’s nothing you want to tell me?”
“What? No….”
“Its just that you seem on edge tonight.” I say.
“Look mom, the only reason I’m eating with you is because you asked me too so you wouldn’t be lonely at the dinner table. If you keep pestering me with mindless interrogations I’m gunna stop.”
I stop chewing and look down. I try to hold back the tears, but can feel the lump in my throat rising, and I know the tears are inevitable.
“Oh God Damnit mom.”
“You’re excused Shandra. I don’t want you to eat with me if you don’t want to.”
Then she scoots her chair away from the table abruptly and throws her napkin on the table.
“Thank God.” She says and then she storms off to her room and I hear the door slam.
Then I let it out. I can help it. I don’t care if that bitch hears me. After I finsih I look at the picture that I kepp on the hearth above the fireplace. Its of all of us before Jerrry left and when Shandra still had her hair. Were all on our old boat in roosevelt lake………………