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     �	  Happy Families 
 by spuffyduds	

 Story Notes: Written in August 2007. Prompt: white Russians.

 

 When they were first married, Stella never could understand why Ray
minded her dad hating him less than he minded her mom liking him. He just
told Stella it was the white Russians that call-me-Helen always mixed when
they visited. "Milk and alcohol, Stell, it's just wrong. It's like,
hashish Ho-Ho's, or something."

 Really, though, it was--her dad just glared at Ray silently when they
visited his apartment. But when they had dinner with her mom in the
too-big-now house, her mom would ask all these chatty questions about his
dad's meatpacking job. Which, you know, not a job you converse about, you
just do it, and Ray was pretty sure that Helen was pleased with herself
for being open-minded and Embracing His Lower-Classness, and it pissed him
off.

 And once, when they were leaving Helen's---Ray went back in because he'd
forgotten his jacket, and Helen gave him her milky-drunk smile, backed him
up against the kitchen counter and grabbed his crotch. He got the hell out
of there, and she never acted like she remembered it later, thank Christ.

 He never told Stell about that, either. Not even in the worst days of the
divorce, when he wanted to hurt her. Just, not that much.  
� 

End Happy Families by spuffyduds 

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