The Stain on my White Shirt - Part 1

I used to think that I lived a pretty normal life. I mean, when you have nothing to compare it to, how could you want something else?

Think about it. Try to imagine a color that you have never seen before. You can’t picture it, can you? How could you want to see a color that you don’t even know exists? The average person doesn’t want to, because, after all, how could you want something beyond your own imagination? 

I was 16 years old. I vaguely remember having friends my age when I was younger, but for all I know, it could’ve been a dream. I was homeschooled all of my life, or rather, I did my schoolwork online. Of course, I had lots of friends on the internet, but my mother insisted that they were all pedophiles behind a screen, so I’ve never met any of them in person. 

What else?

I lived in the country; the middle of nowhere, really. My house is situated on an absolutely massive plantation that my parents pay tons of people to work. I made the mistake of befriending a boy around my age, one of the workers’ kids, when I was little. My mother was furious. She told me that I would be kidnapped and auctioned off to the highest bidder down in Mexico if I kept hanging around him. Needless to say, I was limited in who I interacted with in person, and it got lonely. The worst part was that my mother’s stories scared me so bad as a kid that I started to believe them, and I never tried to make another friend in real life after that. It honestly makes me feel stupid for having believed her for so long.

Speaking of my parents, I never saw much of them, either. My mom’s a famous doctor that travels across the states to give her “professional opinion”. She attends conferences and even has contacts with the CDC. Her name is mentioned in tons of medical magazines. Needless to say, she’s too busy to really be around me, and when we were together, we watched movies or something; we didn’t really connect. I think I liked the idea of her more than I actually liked her. 

My dad was a lawyer for Hollywood actors. We used to be close, but his drinking has gotten to a point where he can be physically there, but he isn’t all there. He hadn’t been taking too many cases, but every once in a while, he would get on a kick where a client became the center of his universe. 

Between the both of them we were basically millionaires. Like I said, between only having interacted with a few people, and having nothing else to compare myself and my situation to, I was pretty sure my life was pretty normal. Great, even.

Well, they say ignorance is bliss, and it really is. I guess I’m just writing this because the last few months have completely changed my entire life, and I’m not exactly sure if it’s for the better or worse. Regardless, I need to get it out, and this was the only way I could think of. 

My biggest problem at 16 was boredom, honestly. Of course my online friends and school could keep me busy, but in the summertime, it seemed like everyone had somewhere to be, except me.

Luckily, my best friend Ricky was pretty antisocial, so on his last day of school, he decided to skip and facetime me before his family left on a “tech-free” vacation for the whole month of June. 

We eventually got to talking about my dad’s newest client, who just so happened to be suing Ricky’s uncle.

“I’m telling you, Greg is literally gay. He wouldn’t want anything to do with this girl. She just wants money without having to work for it.” Ricky was pretty sure that every actress was a gold-digger and every actor wanted gold-digging actresses. 

“Well, I mean you never know,” I honestly believed him, but I had this thing where I just loved arguing. I probably got it from Dad. “Maybe he never had a girlfriend because they’re all underage and he can’t be seen with them.”

“Shut up Lili! I’m telling you, he drives a GMC and listens to Sam Smith. No way he wants some preppy 18 year old. Plus, who gets their butt grabbed, and tries to get money? Gold-digger!”

“She could just be a gold-digger who got her butt grabbed and seized the opportunity.”

“Oh my god, I can’t do this. Whatever.” We both laughed. Chances were, my dad was going to lose, anyways. He usually did, at that point.

“Hold up. Lili, are your parents home?”

“Of course not. And also, no, you can not drive fifty miles and explore the mansion. My mother would like, hire an assassin.”

“No, not that. Does your dad lock his office?”

“Uhm, I don’t think so…. No! Ricky!”

“Yes, Lili! Oh my god, it will take 3 seconds! Can’t you just look? It’s not like anybody’s going to catch you!”

I rolled my eyes. He had a point, and it could be fun… “You DoorDash me a large cookies-n’-cream milkshake tonight and I’ll break into my father’s most sacred and private space, completely betraying his trust and violating his and his client’s privacy.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Deal, now go violate shit or whatever.”

I laughed and shut my laptop. My Dad’s office was on the third floor, and I did not feel like walking up 2 flights of stairs, but on the other hand, I really wanted a milkshake. 

Opening the door to his office was like going into another dimension, one that smelled like sweaty socks and honey-flavored whiskey. Papers were scattered everywhere, and I easily found the sock pile and the bottles that accounted for the smell. 

I had read a bunch of articles about “the disease of alcoholism”, because I’ve been certain for a while now that he was an alcoholic. He was always drunk, and when he wasn’t he was getting there. He was constantly locked in his office, and sometimes, when he was out, he acted so depressed. Sometimes, he would lay on a couch and just stare, like he was in a coma or something. Of course, my mother would say that was the wrong word, but that’s what I thought of.

She told me once that he was depressed because their marriage was arranged, and he’d rather run away with one of the 18 year-old Disney actresses that he represents. I didn’t believe it, personally, but it was hard to really like my dad when my mom made it her life’s mission to make sure I detested him. 

When I was younger, he was… I don’t know. He smiled. He took me everywhere with him. I loved that guy. I had always wondered where he went. What changed?

I couldn’t imagine that he just suddenly stopped loving me. My mom, at least, was consistent. What was so different about him?

Most of the stuff that I found looked and sounded like a foreign language. I googled most of it, but even then, it made no sense to me. 

After about half an hour with little progress, I decided to take a lunch break. 

Remember what I said about my mom’s legends regarding our farm hands? Remember how I used to believe her? Well, imagine my surprise when my old childhood friend rang the doorbell.

“Angel?” I gasped. I went to hug him, but then thought the better of it. Not only was he sweaty, but my mom’s voice kept playing in my head: Sold to the highest bidder.

“Ah… Hey…. uhm….” he started.

“Did you forget my name?”

“What? No! What? I, uh… No…”

“Wow. Rude.” I crossed my arms.

He got nervous, blushing and shuffling back and forth on his feet. He put a hand up. “Lili! Yes! I remembered!”

I laughed. “Well, that’s good enough, I guess. It’s technically Lilianna, but you know, who’s remembering names…” 

“And my name’s technically Alejandro, but if I remember correctly, you said that was too complicated, so….” At last. He caught on to the sarcasm.

I laughed. “Okay… Alejandro, what are you doing ringing on my doorbell this fine afternoon?”

“Well, I’m actually looking for Mr. DeSimone… He said he was changing our meeting time to Fridays at noon, so..” he shrugged. “Here I am.”

“Woah. You’re having clandestine meetings with my dad?” I leaned in and whispered. “Are you an actor in legal trouble?”

He finally cracked a smile. “No, actually, I’m learning to assist actors in legal trouble, if that’s okay with you.”

I smiled, and we just kind of stood there awkwardly for a minute.

“Uhm”, he gestured to the doorway. “Is it okay for me to, uh, enter, now that we know I’m not a criminal, or…”

“Oh! Yeah, duh.” I stepped aside and shut the door behind him. 

He grabbed the hand towel and wiped his face and neck. 

“Yup. Make yourself right at home there, Angel,” I smiled, but he thought I was serious, and he put the towel down and apologized. 

“Dude, shut up. Use the towel.” I sat down at the counter and sipped my water.

Okay, and maybe I was doing some admiring. Those fields really did a nice job on his muscles, in my defense. 

“So, uhm,” he went to sit down, but didn’t. He was so weird. “Is he here…?”

“Uhhh… No. He actually is meeting his new client…” an idea popped into my head. “Wait, are you like, good at all that legal stuff?”

He made a face like he was confused. “Uhm, yeah? I mean, I plan to go to law school next ye-”

“Okay, great. Follow me!”

I stood up and started the two-flight trek to my dad’s office with Angel in tow. Pulling him and walking up all those stairs left me out of breath.

I went right in, but took a moment to catch my breath. I wasn’t exactly what you’d call athletic.

Angel stood in the doorway, looking nervous. “You know, I can guess what you want me to do, and honestly, I really shouldn’t, I mean, especially when Mr. DeSimone isn’t here…”

“Come on. You’re already shirking farm duty, you might as well help your long-lost bestie out here!”

“Uhm… Were we besties? Cuz, like, I don’t recall-” I told him to quit his whining and pulled him by his arm to my dad’s desk. We sat on the floor next to a folder that I had pulled out earlier.

“Okay, guess I’m doing this. What do you want me to do?”

“Translate!” I handed him the stack of papers that I had found so far. “And by the way, do you speak Spanish?”

He gave me a flat look. “Why? Cuz I’m Mexican?”

I shrugged. “Just a question. I mean, I speak German and I’m like, 30% German, so…”

He smiled. “Un poco,” he squeezed his thumb and forefinger together, and then he began looking through the papers. 

He shook his head. “This is obviously a play for money. Why do you care about this anyway?”

“Because my friend owes me a milkshake. Oh! I forgot!” I reached over and tugged on a drawer for a couple papers that I had forgotten. A little too hard, apparently, since it came flying out. “Shit!”

Angel laughed. 

“Shut up,” I started gathering the papers that went flying. One of the headers caught my eye: “DeSimone vs DeSimone”.

Well, I may not have been very good at understanding legal documents, but it didn’t take a genius, or Angel, to understand what a “filing for divorce” was. 

“Angel…” I tapped his shoulder. “What… This isn’t… I mean, is it?”

He sighed and took the paper. A few seconds later, his eyebrows were raised. “Oh. Uh… Well… I, uhm…. Lili… I mean I really shouldn’t be going through stuff like this… I mean, maybe we should just put it back…”

“No!” That came out louder than I expected. “Sorry, I mean… Well, not really. Can you just… like, uhm… Why are they… divorcing?”

“Well…” He gave me a glance and flipped to the next page. “They’re… not. It looks like he made these himself. I mean, there’s no judge listed or docket number. Uh,” he flipped another page. “Woah” he shook his head. “Uhm, do you really want to hear… This?”

“Yes! Obviously!” I tapped his shoulder impatiently. 

“Okay! Um, well, he cites domestic abuse-”

“What?” I felt my face get red. “He’s abusing her?!”

“No, uhm, actually, it says she’s abusing him, uh,” he flipped another page. “Yeah. Oh-!” a small, yellowing envelope fell out from between the pages. I watched Angel as he picked out a small green SD card and held it flat out in his palm. We met each other’s eyes for a brief moment before I snatched it and stood up. 

“Lili!” He sat up on his knees and grabbed my arm as I put the chip in the side of the computer. I stopped and looked at him. He froze and turned red. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” He looked away. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that It’s a good idea.” 

I rolled my eyes and passed him the charger. “Can you just plug it in? It’s not like this could get any worse.”

Oh, ignorance is bliss.