







































Aisthesis      Volume 8,  201742

Everything’s OK
by Katherine Grosso

 Lily took a deep breath and dragged her palms 
down her damp cheeks as if her face were clay. Then, 
she began to count: 1. Gun in the shoebox. 2. Razor 
blade in the toolbox. She couldn’t even remember 
why or when she’d started it, only that it always 
calmed her down when she was like this. 3. Rat 
poison in coffee. The only sleep that found Lily these 
days was troubled, and opening her eyes did little to 
alleviate the dark feelings that followed. Sometimes 
it took her all the way to ten before she really calmed 
down. She had to stop at ten anyway—by that time, 
she usually couldn’t think of any more creative ways 
to kill her husband. 
 She heard the shower water running and sighed 
deeply. Three was pretty good. Yesterday it was 
seven. She slid her feet into her slippers and the foot 
imprint that years of wear had made, pulled a robe 
off its hook, and headed down the hall.
 “Brian,” she said. She knocked on each door in 
the hallway as she went. “Billy, Jean, John,” she called. 
“Time to get up.” 
 Lily hung a left into the last room in the hallway 
and plucked the last of her five children—her five 
boys—from his crib and onto the changing table. 
The baby cooed and reached two hands out for her 
as she methodically swapped the soiled diaper for 
a clean one printed with shapes and Sesame Street 
characters.
      “I see ten toes, a nose and two little ears,” she said, 
applying baby powder to his bottom. Five kids and 
she was almost all out of baby-voice. “So big and so 
strong, I’m glad you came along.”
 Her mother used to say that to Lily whenever she 
had a sour face. She’d tap her nose and put her thin 
fingers in Lily’s dimples until she giggled. Saying it 
to the—hopefully—last of her boys now was nothing 
short of muscle memory. Lily put one arm in the 
clean onesie, and as she watched him smile, she felt 
herself frown. He looked like Garrett—even this 
little she could tell. Same eyes, dark and beady, like 
a hamster’s, always examining her. She picked him 

up and put him to her shoulder so she didn’t have to 
think about it anymore.
 In the kitchen, Brian was lacing up Billy’s shoes 
while the twins fought over who would get their 
father’s coffee ready. 4. Car crash, she thought, as she 
put the baby in the high-chair. 
 “Dad said I could do it,” Jean yelled as he shoved 
his brother. Usually it was the other way around.
 “But he thought he was talking to me,” John 
argued, shoving him back.
 Lily had never wanted kids. She had a father 
growing up and knew enough about boys to know she 
never wanted any. But somehow, somewhere down 
the line she’d allowed herself to be wooed. Maybe it 
had been his big arms and how tightly he used to 
hold her, how secure she’d once felt. Secure enough, 
she supposed, that she’d accepted a place in Garrett’s 
view of the world. She’d ignored his tendency for 
cruelty when he was drunk. She’d ignored his slightly 
misogynistic outlook. She’d ignored how unsettling 
it was to look in those eyes and have those eyes look 
back at her. A part of Lily she didn’t like very much 
loved him.
 “Boys,” Lily interrupted—tried to interrupt. As 
always, they didn’t stop for a second to acknowledge 
her. “Knock it off before—” 
 “Watch it!”
 “You watch it!”
 “Boys,” she tried. “Boys—”
 She thanked every god and deity she could think 
of that at least Brian was getting the coffee ready as 
she wrestled one twin off the other. The difference 
between Brian and the others was in his eyes: bright 
and blue. She knew it wasn’t right to play favorites 
with your kids, but if she had to pick just one—at 
least he seemed to love her.
 “Boys,” Garrett said, descending the stairs. 
“What’d I say about fighting, huh?”
 The boys jumped apart and stood at attention 
like identical toy soldiers, the way they always did 
when their father walked into the kitchen. 



Everything’s OK 

Aisthesis      Volume 8,  201743

 “That it’s too early and it gets us nowhere,” they 
recited.
 Lily turned her back to the stove. She didn’t need 
to look to know what happened next: Garrett would 
nod and hold out a hand. Brian would hand him his 
coffee in the #1 Dad ceramic mug he’d been given for 
Father’s Day. He’d take a seat, snap his fingers for the 
paper, and Jean would jump to get it. Before he was 
finished, John would take his seat and Brian would 
help Billy into his.  
 Her own father used to descend the stairs every 
morning in the same way. Her mother would bring 
him his coffee and the paper while Lily waited 
patiently for her cereal. Her mother would smile 
sweetly to her and hum to the tune of “This Little 
Light of Mine” while she poured some milk in her 
father’s coffee and then Lily’s cereal. Eventually, her 
father would lift his dark eyes from the paper—
 Lily shuddered as she felt Garrett’s eyes on her, 
sizing her up the way they often did. They started 
at her feet, dragged themselves upward where they 
lingered for a bit on her behind before they stuck 
themselves somewhere at the back of her head. Her 
hands shook a little as she gripped the wooden spoon 
and felt his eyes finish running their course. 
 1. Gun in the shoebox. 
 There was the usual chatter coming from 
the table. The twins were talking, asking Garrett 
questions about his work. Jean loved construction, 
and the thought of his father operating a bulldozer 
always started a conversation. Billy chimed in, and 
it seemed even Nathan from his high-chair wanted a 
part of the discussion. 
      “I’m going to be like you when I grow up,” John 
said. 
 “That’s what I was going to say!” Jean hollered. 
 “Yeah!”
 “Da!”
 2. Razor Blade in the toolbox.
 Lily knew her father would’ve scoffed at her 
inner monologue. He’d tell her she was too small, 
too mousy, too fragile. She thought of his drunk 
singing, Little Lil, always chill, and her mother’s quiet 
laughter. She’d put a hand on Lily’s shoulder, telling 
her it was OK and that she could be just as big and 
strong as she wanted. Her mother’s voice was steady, 
regardless of whether he’d slapped her, and even after 
he’d shattered a glass by throwing it at the wall. On 

any given day, Lily could see her mother’s lips pursed 
in a half-smile.
 “I think Mommy’s still sleeping,” Garrett said. She 
heard a chorus of laughter and then more coarsely he 
added, “Lil, are you with us?”
 Lily ran her fingers through her hair, and when 
she turned back to the group, she showed a smile 
and all her teeth. Then, she started pouring the 
lumpy mixture into bowls, Garrett first, then Brian, 
Jean, John, Billy, and herself. She poured out some 
Cheerios for Nathan and sat. She listened as the 
boys talked and spooned mounds of the slop into 
their mouths or their shirts, but ate very little. She 
wondered if they’d noticed how much weight she’d 
lost, how frail she’d become. 3. Rat poison in his 
coffee.   
 Garrett’s mug crashed to the floor and shattered 
into pieces. Lily’s head snapped up from her breakfast 
to find Jean stunned.
 Then he erupted. “Hey, Stupid!”  He shoved his 
brother. “Look what you made me do.”
 “I didn’t make you do anything!” the other said, 
swatting back at him. “I’m not stupid, you are, Big 
Ears!” 
 “We have the same ears, Stupid.”
 “I said, don’t call me stupid—” 
 “Enough.” Garrett slammed an open palm on the 
table.
 4. Car crash.
 “But he dropped the—”
 His open palm landed on John’s cheek. 
 “What did I just say?” Garrett continued.
 A full hand print grew on the side of her seven-
year-old’s face, and she watched him slide his bowl 
toward his brother, sinking his head into his hands 
to hide. Then she got up slowly, numbly, and grabbed 
the dishtowel from the stove rack and began to 
pick up shards and scrub the floor.  5. Construction 
‘accident’. 6. Knife in the drawer. 7. Peanuts. 8. House 
fire. 
 “Head up,” Garrett said. She heard him snap his 
fingers and winced. “Big boys don’t cry.”
 Lily got up from her knees slowly, carefully. She 
put a hand on her son’s back and guided his head up 
with two gentle fingers at his chin. “You’re alright. 
Right, Johnny?” 
 Lily hated how small her voice sounded. She 
was eight when she’d spilled her own father’s coffee 
on the floor and shattered the mug. He’d told her 



Everything’s OK 

Aisthesis      Volume 8,  201744

that there was nothing going on in her “pretty, little 
head” of hers. She could see her mother on her knees 
scrubbing the floor, getting up slowly to tell her it 
was alright and all clean.
 How silly Lil Lily, her father’s voice taunted.
 Relax, sweetheart, her mother’s voice. 
 9. Hitman.
 She tried to meet Garrett’s eyes, but she couldn’t 
bring herself the whole way there. She could feel him 
looking her up and down until they rested on her 
face. Lily wondered if her mother ever counted. 
 Garrett tossed his head and rolled his eyes. “If 
you keep babying them, that’s all they’ll be,” he said. 
He pushed his chair out from the table and adjusted 
his pants as he got up. 
 1. Gun in the shoebox.  
 “He’s only seven,” she muttered. “It’s just a mug.” 
 Her breathing became shallow and the hand that 
gripped her vocal cords tightened as he stood over 
her, deliberately, the way he did when he wanted 
her to know just how little ‘Lil’ really was. She didn’t 
move.
 “Of course,” he said, pecking her cheek and 
walking past her. He pinched her backside on his 
way to the sink. 2. Razor blade in the toolbox. 
 “Jean knows I love him,” he finished.
 “John,” she muttered. It was a slight mental 
hiccup—a reflex she thought all mothers of twins 
must have. She wrung her hands together as his eyes 
narrowed on her face, and he started to strut back 
toward her.
 “What?” he laughed. 
 “That’s John,” she said again. “Only you…said 
Jean.”
 “I said, John,” he chuckled, gesturing to the child 
as if to say, “who the hell else.” He shook his head. 
“But sure, Lil,” he sighed, giving her another peck. “If 
that makes you happy.”
 Lil’ Lil always chill. 
 “Is something wrong?” Garrett asked her from 
the table.
 “No, hun,” she said, re-washing an already clean 
dish in the sink. Everything’s OK.
 Lily was nineteen and pregnant with Brian when 
she got the news, only just out of the house. The 
funeral she could hardly remember but she could call 
upon the wake any minute of that day in vivid detail. 
She saw her mother, pale and waxy in her casket, 

often in her dreams but sometimes as a shadow in 
her own reflection. They said she killed herself, but 
lying there among the velvet innards of her casket, 
she was smiling. 
 Billy was laughing in his high chair and the twins 
would soon follow as if nothing had happened, as if 
it all went away when she cleaned the floor. Garrett 
would soon belittle her by feigning compassion and 
hugging her shoulders. 
 “What about you, Bri?” Garrett asked their ten-
year-old. “What’s the matter?”
 He was massaging the boy’s shoulders with his 
large, calloused hands, and Brian’s nose and eyes 
scrunched together. Brian frowned and remained 
quiet.
 “I know,” Garrett taunted. “You want to be like 
Mommy when you grow up and not me?”
 The ten-year-old shrugged. 
 “Mommy doesn’t even want to be Mommy, Bri,” 
he said with a laugh, giving one of Brian’s cheeks 
a hard pinch. “You’d be better off being a damn 
crossing guard.”
 Garrett turned away from him, and Lily felt her 
muscles relax and a small sigh escape her lips. She 
hadn’t realized both her hands were linked together 
at her chest, her knuckles white. 
 “Fine,” she heard Brian mumble. 
 “Oh yeah?” he continued with a breath of a laugh. 
“You’d like that, Bri?”
 Brian looked up, his bright blue eyes—his 
different eyes—in line with his fathers’. 
 “As long as I don’t have to live with you when I 
grow up,” he said bitterly.
 Lily watched Garrett’s face contort and redden, 
as he took two steps forward. Lily watched in horror 
as Brian was pulled up and out of his chair by the 
collar, the boy’s eyes now panicked. His arms shot up 
to try to break his father’s grip. Only the baby moved 
in his high-chair. 
 Brian was kind, Brian was little, and his hands 
were outstretched, reaching for her. 
 “Mom,” he called.
 Garrett tightened his grip on the boy’s shirt as he 
near dragged Brian upstairs. 
 Lil’ Lil stays nice and still. 
 She watched him take her oldest boy upstairs. 
She heard some wailing, she heard thuds and she 
went back to counting. 



Everything’s OK 

Aisthesis      Volume 8,  201745

 Now, she was sure her mother counted.
 She felt a peace wash over her as she dried the 
boy’s dishes and restacked them in shelves. She told 
them not to worry. She cleaned up the baby’s mess 
and re-tied Billy’s shoes. More thuds, more crying, 
more counting. Lily caught a glimpse of herself in 
the mirror by the doorway to the kitchen. She saw 
pale lips and teeth, dull blue eyes, and a crooked 
nose. A calm smile painted on her face.
 “Mom?” Jean asked, peaking his head up from 
the sight of his hands for the first time.
 1. Overdose, she thought.
 “Everything’s OK,” she said.


