Dimensions of Genesis (3 page)

With his responsibilities at the hospital, he
never had time for anything resembling extra-curricular
activity.

Opening the door to his home, he entered into
the large, open foyer. The vaulted ceilings loomed overhead. Meant
to be spacious and impressive, it always left David feeling
intimidated.

The walls were painted and dressed with white
crown molding. Cold Italian marble tile lay throughout the main
floor of the elaborate home. Coming home to the ostentatious
environment left David feeling less like the homeowner and more
like a guest at a pompous hotel.

Tiffany is probably just getting ready to
leave for school.
He thought briefly as he hung up his
jacket.

With sleepy eyes, and desperately needing a
shower and a shave, he shuffled to the kitchen where he could hear
the voices of his wife and daughter.

“Mom, I need one!” David’s daughter Tiffany
whined, dangerously close to throwing one of her trademark temper
tantrums. “Everyone has one, even Chantella Clarkson, and her dad
is just a carpenter!” Tiffany’s voice was becoming shrill.

David easily pictured the scene; as such
dramas occurred quite often at the Blake residence. He envisioned
Tiffany glaring venomously at her mother, her hazel eyes shrouded
with contempt while her eyebrows wove themselves into an angry
scowl.

“I said no! I just got you a new cell phone
for Christmas!” Ellen angrily snapped at Tiffany, close to her
breaking point.

“Fine!!” Tiffany screeched, “I’ll just tell
the kids at school that my parents are too
cheap
!”

David rolled his tired eyes as he heard
Tiffany slam her books into her backpack and storm away. Muttering
a profanity under her breath as she stomped around the corner, she
was startled when she bumped into her father.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “Hi Dad.” obviously
embarrassed for having been caught swearing.

Attempting a disapproving grimace, but
surrendering a weak smile instead; he ventured in vain to tame the
shrew’s wrath. Sensing his vulnerability, she threw him a smug
smile and continued her pouting tirade.

It amazed David how much he loved that girl,
despite her attitude. He smiled as he recalled his daughter's
birth. Even though he didn't believe in God, he was sure Tiffany
was a miracle. The beauty, the perfection and the awe within such a
tiny bundle, was miraculous to David. Never before had he felt love
for anyone like he did for this little person.

He tried to be a positive influence in his
daughter’s life, but Ellen took charge of the parenting from the
beginning.

“You're just the sperm donor, deal with it.”
Was Ellen's cold response to David's complaints of being excluded
from Tiffany's upbringing.

Regaining her stride to the front door,
Tiffany flung her backpack over her shoulder. Flicking her long
golden hair defiantly, Tiffany slammed the front door hard as
she left leaving a thundering noise to reverberate throughout the
foyer.

Sighing as he watched her storm away,
behaving so much like her mother, David muttered sadly, “Bye, love
you too.”

Defeated, he proceeded to the kitchen to face
the true apocalypse. Taking a deep breath, he rounded the corner,
anticipating the worst.

“Good morning, how are things in Ellen’s
world today?” David asked, but already knew the response.

“Oh, just friggin’ peachy.” She expressed
with a face to match her bitter tone. Her short, black hair tucked
behind her ears, framing her pout.

“Ah, another bout with Tiffany, I heard the
tail end of it. Princess Tiffany would like a new phone?” He
said.

“Oh, this time, it’s a touch pad. They’re
bloody expensive; all her friends have one you know.” She snapped
sarcastically, imitating Tiffany with a spoiled voice and
over-exaggerating her hand movements.

Despite Ellen’s comments, David, and
especially Tiffany, knew all too well, that mom eventually gives
in.

As far as David could tell, Ellen couldn’t
stand to be outdone by anyone, especially when it came to anything
luxurious. Ellen Blake had a compulsive need for her, and her
daughter, to be at the top of every list. She even insisted David
buy her an expensive home in the most elite part of the city.

“Have to keep up a respectable image honey.”
She would state if David attempted to reject any of her elitist
notions.

At her insistence, David and she had to drive
matching BMW's. He would've been perfectly happy driving his old,
reliable Chevelle. It didn't even occur to him to parade his
profession around like arrogant medical royalty. He could not
comprehend the audacity of people and their prestigious notions,
least of all, his wife’s.

Sighing, David leaned in to kiss Ellen on the
forehead, but before he could make contact; she abruptly moved
away. Wrinkling her nose, she stated bluntly, “Ugh, Dave, you need
a shower.”

Rejected, exhausted and mildly relieved to
have been excused from Ellen’s sulky mood, he retreated to his
bedroom.

Since Tiffany was a baby, Ellen insisted on
having her own room. “I don't feel the need for traditional
sleeping arrangements.” She told him a month after their
wedding. 

Entering his room, a navy comforter welcomed
him as it hugged his bed. A simple roll down blind filled his
window and a shaggy cream area rug warmed the wood flooring.
Nothing fancy, just the way he liked it.

Several pictures were arranged on his
dresser, faded memories captured in print, like ghosts imprisoned
within a moment in time. He paused to look at one of his favorites.
A young David grinned devilishly, his wavy blonde hair defying
gravity as he flung mud at his sister.

Next was an elegant sepia photograph of his
mother, Laura, sitting in her favorite chair. Her face pensive,
chin resting on her graceful hand, and her eyes staring withdrawn
out the window. It appeared unlikely she suspected his father was
sneaking into the room to snap a picture of her.

Unbeknownst to everyone but her, the quiet
moment he captured was likely his mother trying to articulate the
words to tell her family she was dying. David brushed the glass
with the back of his fingers to remove any trace of dust that might
have accumulated near his mother’s angelic face.

The next picture was a large photo of
Tiffany, at three years old, staring smugly at him. She was wearing
a fluffy pink gown, complete with a sparkling tiara and a perfectly
trained smile. Ellen insisted Tiffany enter several Miss Mini
Beauty Pageants.

Needless to say, as beautiful as David
thought his daughter to be, he only attended but one of these
illustrious events. He promptly informed Ellen afterward, “I’d
rather have a vasectomy done in a public bathroom with a dirty
butter knife then ever see that disgusting display of child
exploitation again!” Her curt response to his lack of support was,
“That can be arranged.”

A wedding picture of Ellen and himself also
lurked within the photos, a day he recalls as stressful, to say the
least. This picture really did say a thousand words; David with his
forced smile and Ellen looking smug in her gown. The whole wedding
day should have been scripted and filmed for the amount of
sincerity it held.

“David, where is the speech I wrote for you?”
Ellen asked him the morning of the wedding.

“I...wanted to write my own.” he stated,
staring at the piece of scrap paper in his hands.

Shaking her head and snorting, she replied,
“If I wanted you to write it, I would have told you so.” Taking a
deep breath, as though composing herself; in a sweet voice added,
“Honey, it has to be perfect today. Don't you want me to be happy?”
Her lashes fluttering like butterflies.

David should've seen it coming. Her mother,
Victoria, had been the same way with Ellen’s father. George
Andrews, a sad, dumpy little dentist, existence revolved around
pulling his wallet out for his wife’s extravagant purchases.

Despite her parents’ strict religious
background, it seemed she and her mother was oblivious to the
meaning of being humble. Ellen mirrored her mother’s haughty
attributes, though David didn’t realize until was too late. If
nothing else, Ellen’s mother could be happy knowing her daughter
did her proud.

As he looked around his lonely room, he
attempted to shrug off feelings of resentment. For twelve years,
he'd slept alone, all the time wondering why Ellen married him in
the first place. After a while, the reason became obvious. Marrying
someone with the title of ‘Doctor’ couldn’t be ignored in Ellen’s
books.

God forbid it should have been something as
ridiculous as marrying for love.

Pausing in the middle of his bitter thoughts,
he wondered if he could recall why he married Ellen.

Hmm
, he thought sarcastically, I'm
sure it will come to me.

Chuckling to himself, he lowered the blinds,
crawled slowly onto the bed and tucked the pillow under his weary
head. Smiling with relief, he snuggled his pillow like a delicate
cotton mistress.

Is this it?
He thought sadly to
himself.
Is this as happy as I'll ever be? Is this my purpose in
life? Seems like a waste really.
He thought as he closed his
eyes.

Reunited

Seating herself at the table for lunch,
twelve year old Lily waited impatiently for her grilled cheese
sandwich. Swinging her short legs back and forth, her feet nearly a
foot from the floor, she watched as her mother prepared her
lunch.

As her mother finished making a sandwich, she
turned to deliver it to the table. Her mother, preoccupied with her
duties, walked almost the entire way across the kitchen before she
actually looked at Lily.

“Good heavens child!” Her mother exclaimed,
placing one hand over her heart and nearly dropping the plate of
food.

Lily’s strawberry blonde hair was standing
straight on end with leaves and bits of mud woven between the mass
of tight curls. Her face blotched with encrusted mud; eyelids
included and her ivory sundress was now a murky clay color with one
strap ripped off.

“Lord in heaven child! What have you been
doing?” Lily’s mother was so mortified she forgot to make Lily say
grace before handing her the plate.

“I was catching frogs near the pond…for a
scientific experiment.” Lily stated as she shoved the sandwich in
her mouth.

“Well, you’ll have to get into the bath
lickity split after you eat and clean yourself up nice.” Her mother
said sternly, her Irish accent becoming pronounced.

“Ugh! Why!?” Lily exclaimed, bread crumbs
falling out of her mouth as she frowned at her mother.

“We have company coming this afternoon and
I'd like for you to look like a proper young lady.” With that, her
mother walked to the living to vacuum.

Lily rolled her eyes, shoved the last of the
sandwich in her mouth, took her plate to the sink and went to the
bathroom to clean up.

It was so rare they had company that Lily was
intrigued to see who these mystery guests were and why they were so
important.

Getting the mud and leaves out of her hair,
however, was easier said than done. It took Lily almost an hour to
bathe and then comb through the rat’s nest that ensued after the
storm of dirt.

Choosing a white sundress with tiny blue
flowers embroidered on it, she then walked to the bathroom to find
a matching headband to tame her disobedient locks.

In the hallway, Lily was ambushed by her five
year old twin sisters Quinn and Sheridan.

“Lily!!!” They both squealed in delight,
rushing to give her a hug. Two miniature versions of Lily, right
down to the crazy curly hair, ivory skin and bright green eyes. The
only difference from Lily's face was that both twins had an
abundance of freckles on their faces. Lily had always thought their
freckles looked like sprinklings of cinnamon on milk.

“You look pretty!” Quinn exclaimed admiring
her big sister’s dress. Sheridan, ever so shy, just nodded in
agreement.

“Thank you.” Lily replied patting her sister
on the head. If there was one thing she loved about her life, it
was her large family. The hustle and bustle of the household would
drive the average kid crazy, but she loved the wild adventures her
home held every day. Lily also had three older brothers, but her
two little sisters were amongst her favorite people, even though
they got into her stuff.

She hoped someday she'd have a bunch of kids
of her own. Even at twelve years old, she had a precocious view of
the world and what she wanted from it.

The twins ran off to play out in the yard,
but not before they were firmly warned by their mother not to get
dirty.

Lily finished getting ready and wandered
downstairs to see if her mother needed any help.

I’m such a great kid!
She thought,
patting herself on the back, as she bounded happily down the
stairs.

Lily and her mother sufficiently tidied the
house just in time for the guests to arrive.

Outside, the sound of tires crunched on the
gravel driveway as a vehicle approached the house. Lily ran quickly
to the front window to catch a glimpse. She was notoriously nosy,
especially when it came to meeting new people.

Peeking through the ivory lace curtain, Lily
watched as a woman and two children exited a blue minivan. She
could see her mother and twin sisters outside greeting the
newcomers. Quinn happily ran up and hugged each guest while
Sheridan hid nervously behind her mother’s skirt.

The mystery family’s complexion was darker,
as was their hair color. They were obviously of foreign descent.
Lily’s imagination flew in many directions, thinking they might be
Egyptian royalty or roving Gypsies peddling their mystical
wares.

In the midst of her exotic daydream, she
heard her mother calling for her, “Lily, child, come out here
please!”