Story Note
Terri Ann Johnson
This Can ’ t Be Us
Story Note
When I begin a story , I think of plot lines that are relatable to everyday people . Then I add a mix of conflict and humor to it . My goal is to dangle my protagonist over a cliff and watch them recover . This story , the Black Brady Bunch was no different . This time it was the parents trying to regain control of their family before all is lost .
“ When did you stop loving my mother ,” Li ’ l Greg asked .
The kids , all six of them , seemed to work each other ’ s nerves and their parents ’ too , a few of them didn ’ t respect Greg and Karen ’ s marriage . After one year , it was time to stop ignoring the issues . The weekends were the only time when they were guaranteed to be in the same house .
I won ’ t discuss the issues that destroyed our marriage ,” Greg continued . “ That ’ s not the purpose of the meeting . If you want to know the details , you should take that up with her .” Greg snatched up his glass of orange juice almost spilling some . He stormed into the spacious family room and plopped down on the leather couch .
Li ’ l Greg pushed back from the table ; ten pairs of younger eyes following his progression as he joined his father in the family room . He dropped onto the ottoman across from Greg , leaned in elbows resting on his knees . “ When can I divorce you ?” he asked , as his chest puffed out .
Greg ’ s hope seemed to disappear when his broad shoulders fell , his lips pressed in a disapproving line .
“ You left and now you want us to come over here and play Brady Bunch with y ’ all every weekend ?” the teen snapped . “ I ’ m not doing my mama like that .”
As usual everyone , all the way down to the seven-year-old , let Li ’ l Greg spew his anger speaking for the crew ; the only time they seemed united .
“ It ain ’ t nothing to do out here ,” he said , with a sweeping gesture of his lanky arm , “ all the way out in the boondocks . It ’ s like you ’ re trying to change who you are . But , we ’ re still the same .” He jabbed a finger in his chest . “ You can ’ t change me . You can ’ t change us .”
And just when Karen didn ’ t think the man / child could go any further , a comment , which in her house growing up could ’ ve gotten her teeth knocked out , was blurted out of Li ’ l Greg ’ s mouth and in his father ’ s ear . “ And she ain ’ t my mother ,” gesturing in Karen ’ s direction as though referring to some trick in the street . Karen gripped the edge of the dining room table . Greg lunged toward his son , screaming , “ You ’ re out of line .” He pulled up short , mere inches from his son . “ Get it straight ; your mother stopped loving me , not the other way around . When will you understand that ?” Greg ’ s sudden movement wiped the smug