In every way shape and form I am my mother’s middle child. For a long time when my sisters and I were growing up I did everything in my power to get her attention. She was always so very busy, doting on how smart and resourceful my older sister was and how cute and precocious my baby sister was and she never really had much to say about me. I started trying to get her attention by hugging her and kissing her and following her around all the time with my arms out willing to squeeze but my mom and both of my sisters are Virgos- not really touchy people. I wasn’t good at school like my older sister so mom had nothing to brag about. I couldn’t cook and eat and make creative things like the little one so there was nothing to show mom. So I guess one day I said, fuck it all, and believe it or not that worked. What happened was there was this little boy in my 4th grade class named Gerald Davis. Gerald should have been in sixth grade but he kept flunking. Gerald commanded attention from everyone all day long with his pranks and antics and shenanigans. We all thought that he was so funny. Better than listening to the stupid teacher tell us fractions or sentence structure. Gerald liked me. He liked me so much that he gave me  gold watch on the playground one day. It was so heavy and shiny and beautiful and all just for me. I kissed him on the forehead and he didn’t act silly. He told me I was his girl. So I went home and showed the glowing watch to my sisters. I loved that they were so jealous. My older sister said, where did you get that? Did you steal it? You’re going to catch a beating for this because you are so stupid. No one was as smart as she was. My younger sister said, Can you sell it? Can you sell it to someone right away so you don’t get caught for this? What if we melt it? Can we melt it and make earrings because if not, this is bad, Virginia, real bad. I told them both I would get rid of it but I never did. I hid it in a shoe box in my closet and looked at it every night before bed. I didn’t even like Gerald. I just liked that he liked me. I would hold it nightly before the fights started. My dad always came in at 2 AM. Always. And when he did mom was up waiting to crack him on the skull with a rolling pin. Somehow she always forgot he was a man and bigger and stronger than her. Somehow she was always the one with a black eye or busted lip. My older sister would sing songs at night so that my baby sister couldn’t hear the fighting over her singing. I would just stare at my watch and hold my watch like it was a magic lamp hoping it would carry all of us away, somewhere where I was the most important child, the smartest and the most creative one. Somewhere where my mom noticed me and loved me and loved her self for that matter. But every  night was the same.   A few months later after mom got out of the hospital, the school counselor called her and told her that I had stolen Gerald’s father’s watch and I would have detention for a month and be suspended too. My mom asked my sisters about it and they didn’t rat me out with their voices but their faces, their faces said I was busted. I tried to tell her that I didn’t steal it, that he gave it to me but she didn’t believe me. She beat the skin off of me, kind of like when she and dad would fight. She was crying the whole time and telling me that she loved me and how much it hurt her that I was bad. And when she was done and exhausted, she hugged me. She hugged me and cried and she never hugged me before, never even saw me before. I held onto her so tightly my arms and legs stopped throbbing. Then I understood. She loved me more than my older sister or my younger one. She loved me like dad loved her and if I wanted to keep getting that love, keep getting hugs and kisses, keep making sure that she was watching what I was doing instead of the other two I had to act like dad- do what I want and say what I want because that kind of person she loved the most. These days we barely see my older sister. She moved to California and sends cards during the holidays. My youngest sister has done a lot of traveling too, but you know those creative types always inspired to do something new. She and mom don’t get along anymore. Now she depends on me. I sit here with her day in and day out, pay her bills since dad left a long time ago and she tells me I’m her favorite. It’s our secret. She never  brings up the fact that I went to jail for stealing cars or the second time for writing bad checks or the last time when I had a coke habit and had those warrants for prostitution…never says a word. Because I’m her favorite. The middle child. And she loves me the most. Finally.