Chapter 2: Nordin Jr, Womanizer Extraordinaire
The four years when I was a student at Jackie O brought some of the worst shocks of my life. Freshman year was really the most tumultuous year of the four. That was the year we learned about our father and other women. Actually, to be fair, we learned about the other woman, singular. We didn’t know there were more until later.
It was winter of Year 34, after the New Year but some time before Valentine’s Day. My parents always planned these giant, elaborate V-Day dates for each other (once I got older, I wondered if it was compensation for a failing relationship), and this year was no different. It was Mom’s turn to plan this one, and she had us all in on it. She wanted to keep things as a surprise, so she had Nordin distracting our father with other plans, she sent Val out to run a lot of the small errands, and she had me pumping him for information, to see if he had any small plans that might interfere with hers.
Then one day, Mom came home and told us to cancel everything, that the date was no longer happening. We had no idea what that meant, we just figured some part of her plan fell through and she was upset over it. She locked herself in her room, then a few hours later a locksmith showed up. It woke us all up in the middle of the night when our father came home and couldn’t get in. He rattled the door until Nordin finally let him in, and Mom immediately rushed him down to the den (at the basement floor) where they argued for hours until he left again.
In the morning, Mom dropped the news, very simply stating that they were getting divorced, that she didn’t want us to pick sides, and he would give us his new address as soon as he had one. Our minds were blown. People in our neighborhood didn’t get divorced (even though, looking back, some of them should have). Nordin made it his mission to find out exactly what was going on, Val picked up a smoking habit (it only lasted a few months), and I skipped school for the rest of the week.
My skipping school is why I was home the day he came to pack his things. I asked him over and over, “Why Dad? What’s going on?” I got even less far with him as Nordin did with Mom. After he left, I went through the closet and drawers, hoping I’d either find a clue to explain the split, or some sign that he might come back. That’s when I found his ‘back-up’ wallet. I was something that he’d taught me – and I still have one today – and his father had taught him. Leave any cards that you don’t use or don’t need at home. For instance, that credit card you got at that store you went to only one time, that you only applied for because you saved 15% on your purchase. It’s not something you’ll ever use so you don't want to carry it around with you, but in case you do need it, you know where it is. Same with the major credit cards. He always advised to have one that you don’t use, kept on standby in case of emergencies, or if your everyday wallet was stolen. I wasn’t sure if it meant anything that he’d left it behind, but I took it, convinced he’d have to come back for it, and then he and Mom would search for it, and in that search they’d find each other again too.
It’s something a ten-year-old would think of, not a fourteen-year-old. But I was not in the right frame of mind. My entire world had just imploded. There was never any indication before this that my parents would split up, definitely not so abruptly.
Weeks went by without him coming back for the wallet, so finally I decided I would be the good daughter and bring it to him. I went to the new address he’d given us, and this blonde… well, bimbo answered the door. She couldn’t have been much older than my brother so I thought I had the wrong apartment. As I stuttered this to her, that I was looking for my dad but must have read the address wrong, she giggled – yes, giggled – and turned around. “Nordy, baby, you have a visitor.” As I’ve told you already, I wasn’t a fighter, but there is a switch that can be flipped, and right then was one of the moments that could have gone much differently. I could picture my fist cutting through the air, but I just stood there, dumbfounded. There was just no way. My father came to the door, and at the very least he had the wherewithal to look ashamed. I just stared at him in silence and shook my head as I backed away. That was the day he stopped being Dad and just became my father. My dad was gone, he was replaced by this man who simply gave me half my DNA.
I gathered up Nordin and Val and told them what I saw. Val refused to believe me, and I got the feeling that Nordin already knew. We took Val to see for herself, staking out the apartment from the stairwell until we saw them come out together, then tailed them around town for half the afternoon. The look on Val’s face… I think that’s the exact moment she became the woman I know today.
Heading home that day, I had to stop at the music shop. Nordin and I went there a lot with Abuelo. He would sit and talk for hours with the shop owner, in that way that only older gentlemen can, while Nordin and I would play around in the guitar section. It was one of those places where no one could bother me, where I could hide from the world. It was definitely something I needed that day. As I was leaving, I pulled out my wallet to grab a slice at the corner.
Except it wasn’t my wallet I grabbed.
Angry and vengeful, I went right back into the shop and bought my first bass guitar. It wasn’t even the one I wanted, the one I’d been playing with for months, but it was the one with the most digits in the price. Go big or go home, right? I paid for it gleefully with the card with the highest interest rate (another one that my father always said to leave at home). I followed that purchase with the most expensive strap, most expensive bag, several sets of picks, both a guitar stand and a wall mount, and two amps. Yes, the most expensive. I was practically dancing on my way home, where I shared the rest of the wealth with my brother and sister. I don’t think Nordin went as crazy as we did, but Val and I never had to touch our own money for the next two weeks. Everything we bought was on our father’s dime, and needless to say, we outspent our normal habits. Val splurged on new clothes, shoes, purses, you name it. We treated our friends every time we went out to eat or to the movies instead of splitting the cost, spoiling ourselves silly by going to higher-end restaurants that we would never have even considered before. Of course, we spent a little on Mom too. Just small stuff, nothing to arouse her suspicion. Replaced her perfumes and lotions that were running low. Took her out to dinner. There are times when I think Grandma Claire knew exactly what we were up to, but she never said anything. Sometimes I wonder if she secretly approved.
I did end up returning the guitar and exchanging it for the one I wanted. My father was still the one paying for it, so the dig was still there. Neither one of us returned anything else or paid him for anything. Oh, and just to clarify, the only cards we used were ones that were in his name only. We snooped in Mom’s wallet, cross-checking all the account numbers, and cut up the ones that he held jointly with her.
Over the next couple years, mostly due to the fact that we received less and less communication from him, Nordin and I continued to spy on our father. That's when we discovered that the blonde wasn't the only woman who stayed there. There was a whole selection of women my father liked to choose from. It sickened us to think that he'd been doing this all along. We couldn't help but notice that once of his "usuals" had an ever-expanding belly. Two and two almost always equals four, but we didn't want to finish the equation, not then, not ever. Even now, I have no idea if I have a younger brother or sister out there somewhere - there might even be more than one - and as heartless as it may seem, I don't want to know. I realize that seems contradictory to the family-oriented woman you know me to be, but Nordin Larcombe the Second is not my family, and I'm sorry, but neither are any of his children that weren't born to Elysia Alvarez. This was also the year that I changed my name to Mom's, becoming Jessénia Alvarez.
It was winter of Year 34, after the New Year but some time before Valentine’s Day. My parents always planned these giant, elaborate V-Day dates for each other (once I got older, I wondered if it was compensation for a failing relationship), and this year was no different. It was Mom’s turn to plan this one, and she had us all in on it. She wanted to keep things as a surprise, so she had Nordin distracting our father with other plans, she sent Val out to run a lot of the small errands, and she had me pumping him for information, to see if he had any small plans that might interfere with hers.
Then one day, Mom came home and told us to cancel everything, that the date was no longer happening. We had no idea what that meant, we just figured some part of her plan fell through and she was upset over it. She locked herself in her room, then a few hours later a locksmith showed up. It woke us all up in the middle of the night when our father came home and couldn’t get in. He rattled the door until Nordin finally let him in, and Mom immediately rushed him down to the den (at the basement floor) where they argued for hours until he left again.
In the morning, Mom dropped the news, very simply stating that they were getting divorced, that she didn’t want us to pick sides, and he would give us his new address as soon as he had one. Our minds were blown. People in our neighborhood didn’t get divorced (even though, looking back, some of them should have). Nordin made it his mission to find out exactly what was going on, Val picked up a smoking habit (it only lasted a few months), and I skipped school for the rest of the week.
My skipping school is why I was home the day he came to pack his things. I asked him over and over, “Why Dad? What’s going on?” I got even less far with him as Nordin did with Mom. After he left, I went through the closet and drawers, hoping I’d either find a clue to explain the split, or some sign that he might come back. That’s when I found his ‘back-up’ wallet. I was something that he’d taught me – and I still have one today – and his father had taught him. Leave any cards that you don’t use or don’t need at home. For instance, that credit card you got at that store you went to only one time, that you only applied for because you saved 15% on your purchase. It’s not something you’ll ever use so you don't want to carry it around with you, but in case you do need it, you know where it is. Same with the major credit cards. He always advised to have one that you don’t use, kept on standby in case of emergencies, or if your everyday wallet was stolen. I wasn’t sure if it meant anything that he’d left it behind, but I took it, convinced he’d have to come back for it, and then he and Mom would search for it, and in that search they’d find each other again too.
It’s something a ten-year-old would think of, not a fourteen-year-old. But I was not in the right frame of mind. My entire world had just imploded. There was never any indication before this that my parents would split up, definitely not so abruptly.
Weeks went by without him coming back for the wallet, so finally I decided I would be the good daughter and bring it to him. I went to the new address he’d given us, and this blonde… well, bimbo answered the door. She couldn’t have been much older than my brother so I thought I had the wrong apartment. As I stuttered this to her, that I was looking for my dad but must have read the address wrong, she giggled – yes, giggled – and turned around. “Nordy, baby, you have a visitor.” As I’ve told you already, I wasn’t a fighter, but there is a switch that can be flipped, and right then was one of the moments that could have gone much differently. I could picture my fist cutting through the air, but I just stood there, dumbfounded. There was just no way. My father came to the door, and at the very least he had the wherewithal to look ashamed. I just stared at him in silence and shook my head as I backed away. That was the day he stopped being Dad and just became my father. My dad was gone, he was replaced by this man who simply gave me half my DNA.
I gathered up Nordin and Val and told them what I saw. Val refused to believe me, and I got the feeling that Nordin already knew. We took Val to see for herself, staking out the apartment from the stairwell until we saw them come out together, then tailed them around town for half the afternoon. The look on Val’s face… I think that’s the exact moment she became the woman I know today.
Heading home that day, I had to stop at the music shop. Nordin and I went there a lot with Abuelo. He would sit and talk for hours with the shop owner, in that way that only older gentlemen can, while Nordin and I would play around in the guitar section. It was one of those places where no one could bother me, where I could hide from the world. It was definitely something I needed that day. As I was leaving, I pulled out my wallet to grab a slice at the corner.
Except it wasn’t my wallet I grabbed.
Angry and vengeful, I went right back into the shop and bought my first bass guitar. It wasn’t even the one I wanted, the one I’d been playing with for months, but it was the one with the most digits in the price. Go big or go home, right? I paid for it gleefully with the card with the highest interest rate (another one that my father always said to leave at home). I followed that purchase with the most expensive strap, most expensive bag, several sets of picks, both a guitar stand and a wall mount, and two amps. Yes, the most expensive. I was practically dancing on my way home, where I shared the rest of the wealth with my brother and sister. I don’t think Nordin went as crazy as we did, but Val and I never had to touch our own money for the next two weeks. Everything we bought was on our father’s dime, and needless to say, we outspent our normal habits. Val splurged on new clothes, shoes, purses, you name it. We treated our friends every time we went out to eat or to the movies instead of splitting the cost, spoiling ourselves silly by going to higher-end restaurants that we would never have even considered before. Of course, we spent a little on Mom too. Just small stuff, nothing to arouse her suspicion. Replaced her perfumes and lotions that were running low. Took her out to dinner. There are times when I think Grandma Claire knew exactly what we were up to, but she never said anything. Sometimes I wonder if she secretly approved.
I did end up returning the guitar and exchanging it for the one I wanted. My father was still the one paying for it, so the dig was still there. Neither one of us returned anything else or paid him for anything. Oh, and just to clarify, the only cards we used were ones that were in his name only. We snooped in Mom’s wallet, cross-checking all the account numbers, and cut up the ones that he held jointly with her.
Over the next couple years, mostly due to the fact that we received less and less communication from him, Nordin and I continued to spy on our father. That's when we discovered that the blonde wasn't the only woman who stayed there. There was a whole selection of women my father liked to choose from. It sickened us to think that he'd been doing this all along. We couldn't help but notice that once of his "usuals" had an ever-expanding belly. Two and two almost always equals four, but we didn't want to finish the equation, not then, not ever. Even now, I have no idea if I have a younger brother or sister out there somewhere - there might even be more than one - and as heartless as it may seem, I don't want to know. I realize that seems contradictory to the family-oriented woman you know me to be, but Nordin Larcombe the Second is not my family, and I'm sorry, but neither are any of his children that weren't born to Elysia Alvarez. This was also the year that I changed my name to Mom's, becoming Jessénia Alvarez.