by S. E. Akers
“No, Katie. Calm down. It’s nothing like that…but he hasn’t found your body yet,” I answered. “It’s just that I haven’t talked to him in weeks…” I stopped in mid-sentence. I’d never told Katie about New Year’s Eve. There was nothing to tell — well, not really. “I’m just upset because—”
“I know why you’re mad at him,” Katie replied.
“Because he’s a stubborn, secretive, cocky, neglectful asshole?”
“Well, yeah…but you like him,” Katie cooed in her all-knowing voice.
“I have to like him. He’s my mentor,” I assured her in a snide roll.
“You know what I mean,” Katie laughed. “Or do I need to remind you that your heart races at the mention of his name.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I insisted.
“Liar. It’s racing right now.”
“That’s my blood pressure,” I asserted. Trying to get off the subject, I evaded, “I’d just hoped that he would’ve had some good news.”
“Uuuhh, me too,” Katie concurred. “What about Gallia?”
“What about her?” I asked hastily.
“You still haven’t heard from her.”
“Bea talked to her yesterday,” I lied. “She hasn’t had any luck.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before NOW?” Katie demanded.
Well that backfired like a mother. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’m more upset NOW!” Katie huffed. “Not telling me things is just as bad as lying, Shi.”
“I know…It’s just that the full—”
“No excuses! You promised you would tell me everything that night at the graveyard…no matter what.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied while my guilt settled in bed, right beside me. “Everything…as soon as I find out.” I threw my pillow over my head, unable to withstand the sound of my own voice.
“Good. And I know what’s coming up. I may not have a body, but I can still freakin’ count,” Katie confirmed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I showed up at Beatrix’s house at 9:00 AM sharp, ready to shop, still without a birth certificate, and with my latest lie already locked and loaded. Hopefully this would be my last major one (for at least a week).
Beatrix followed me into the guest bedroom and watched as I lifted the lid to Katie’s jewelry box. I really lucked up at her parents’ store last night. The necklace I’d swiped was identical to Katie’s. I even threw in a few tears as I unfastened “Fake-Katie” to play my part. That being said, if I thought omitting things to Tanner or misleading Katie to protect her was bad enough, lying to Beatrix turned out to be even worse. I realized my tears were real as soon as I placed the phony inside. She was like a mother to me. It felt no different if I were standing here lying to Daddy. Self-serving, scheming, defiant little ingrate, I thought quietly as I whispered my fake “good-byes” into the diamond and closed the lid.
Beatrix placed her hands on my shoulders. “How did she take it?” she asked, now the epitome of concern.
“Not good,” I fibbed.
“Did she call me every name in the book?”
“Just about,” I admitted as I thought about Katie’s bitch-fest that erupted when I’d told her about Bea’s real intentions. But at least that was the truth.
“You did the right thing, dear,” Beatrix insisted. “You’re driving yourself crazy trying to cater to her feelings. You have no time for yourself. Trust me. This trip is exactly what you need.”
“If they let me into the country,” I remarked, rightfully worried, but mostly to change the subject.
“She wouldn’t give you your birth certificate?”
I pulled out the endearing note that Charlotte had taped to my door.
Too Bad — So Sad!
“Nope. I tried to compel her, but it didn’t work…as usual. I’ve already been by the courthouse. They’re temporarily closed.”
“Why’s that?”
“There was a fire in the clerk’s office last night,” I revealed.
“Goodness!” Beatrix exclaimed. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Just me when Kyle Parsons said they wouldn’t be able to print me an official copy until Monday morning,” I sighed. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Pardon me for one moment.” Beatrix stepped into the kitchen. “Sometimes I think rotten luck follows you around, my dear,” she called out, adding insult to injury.
She’s just NOW realizing that? “What are you doing?” I hollered into the kitchen. “Bea?”
Within a few minutes, Beatrix emerged with a smile on her face. “Everything is taken care of,” she stated with certainty. “You’ll have it when you need it.”
“Well, when you pull that one out of your hat, see if you can find a body and a rare stone in there. You know what tomorrow night is, don’t you?” I reiterated for the umpteenth time as we headed outside.
“I’m well aware of the event. But there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it this go-around,” Beatrix remarked as she locked and spelled her door.
“Number four,” I mumbled as we strolled down her walk. “One-hundred and sixteen days.”
“Two-thousand eight-hundred and thirty-two hours, too,” Beatrix quipped as I opened the passenger-door.
“Thanks,” I replied dryly and gave the door a slam once she was comfortably inside. As I slid my keys into the ignition, Beatrix placed her hand over mine.
“Just think of it as a big, beautiful ball of hope in the sky,” my mentor encouraged.
I rolled my eyes.
“Let me ask you, dear… What would you do to hear Caiden’s voice again?”
“Anything,” I whispered hoarsely. “But that’s impossible.”
“That’s correct. So you need to count your blessings when you bathe in its light. Katie still has a chance…and that’s something even more rare and precious than a million bodies or a thousand fire opals. Hope is the most comforting force in the universe. Remember that tomorrow night,” she added, caressing the side of my face. I nodded, knowing she was right. “Now, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” she remarked and gave my dash a swift pat.
It took a couple of times to get the engine to turn over. I didn’t take that as a good sign to kick-off my trip.
“See there. I was sitting here…hoping,” Beatrix teased once it had started. “Are you sure this thing can get us there? I’m afraid my golden topaz will do nothing to protect a motor from dying.”
“It may look like death warmed over, but it’s not ready for the junkyard in the great-beyond just yet.”
“Maybe if we have some time we can hit a few car lots? Graduation is right around the corner,” Beatrix hinted. “Though this thing will be lucky to make it that long,” she added with a snarl of her petite little nose.
“Buckle up,” I said confidently as I whipped my Charger out of her driveway and then screeched off down the road.
The ride to Charleston was a real eye-opener. Right off the bat she popped an Englebert Humperdinck CD in my stereo. If I had to listen to Quando, Quando, Quando one more time, I swear I would have run us off the next bridge we passed. But what proved to be even worse than her easy-listening melodies, were her gunfire of complaints. When Beatrix wasn’t ragging me about my car, she was criticizing my driving, in her candy-sweet way, of course. She had to be on-record as THE WORST BACKSEAT DRIVER IN HISTORY — telling me when to turn, when to break, when to speed up and when to slow down, when to change lanes, when I could pass, when I couldn’t pass, that the light was about to change, when I was too close. Ugh! Total control freak! I finally asked her if she would be more comfortable driving when we stopped to get gas in Beckley.
Beatrix asked innocently, “Why? You’re doing fine.” I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head.
“Then do me a favor. Let’s pretend like you really are blind,” I requested.
“Touchy,” Beatrix grinned.
We hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot when she
started up again. This time, her “watch out for that car” remark forced my nerves to brake so hard that she spilled her coffee all over her white silk blouse. I would have felt bad — if the daggone car was close to me, instead of thirty feet away! I ran in and got her another coffee, as well as a new, dry t-shirt to put on. All in all, she wasn’t mad. Even she admitted her last “helpful declaration” may have been a bit out of line. However, the way she rolled her eyes at the oversized bright-yellow “Mountain Mama” t-shirt let me know she wasn’t exactly “happy”.
“Must I?” Beatrix posed with a grimace.
“Yes,” I insisted with a firm nod. “It’s your punishment.”
An hour and a half later (and not a minute too soon), we arrived in Charleston and headed straight for the Town Center Mall downtown. Their parking garage was pretty packed, but we eventually found a spot on the top level. As soon as we hopped out of the car, Beatrix demanded we grab a quick snack. I laughed. There was nothing “snack-like” about the huge garden salad and jumbo-sized chicken cordon bleu bagel she scarfed down. Tanner was right. Skinny as rail and eats like a bird…
Beatrix pulled me into a salon, first thing. She thought we’d kick off our outing with a couple of mani-pedis. I didn’t object. A smile stretched across my face as I relaxed in the cushy leather chair while the warm water swirled around my feet. Charlotte and Chloe had never invited me along on any of their outings like this. Despite Bea’s intent to drop a butt-load of cash on me today, I enjoyed the idea of this experience more than anything.
The manicurist ran into a slight problem when she tried to clip and file my diamond-hard nails. She tried her damnedest, but nothing made the slightest dent in them.
“Maybe just a polish?” I posed. The lady nodded and went straight to work.
“Sorry, dear. I forgot about that,” Beatrix whispered mentally.
“That’s okay,” I assured her. “I don’t think I’d like a stranger armed with a diamond-dusted file whittling around my piggies anyway.”
While I waited on the woman to finish up with Bea, a stylist from the salon asked if I was in the mood for a “new look”.
“I’m fine,” I assured her as I watched her eyeing my low-maintenance mane with a scissor-happy look in her eyes. “What about you, Bea?”
“What ‘about me’, dear?” she countered, stretched back with her eyes closed.
“How about a trim?” I hinted.
“Okay. Out with it. What’s wrong with my hair?” Beatrix huffed.
“I miss the pixie,” I revealed with a wince. “It suited you better.”
“This doesn’t?” Beatrix asked as she ran her fingers through her long bangs.
“Not really,” I admitted delicately.
“Truth,” Beatrix demanded. “What do you really think of it?”
“It’s a bit…matronly,” I replied. I really wanted to ask her which mixing bowl in her kitchen she used to achieve her “dutch-boy” style.
Beatrix gasped. “It’s in a transition phase,” she insisted and let out a few grunts as she shifted about in her chair. “This from the authority on ponytails,” she snickered.
That’s fair. “Okay, but if you even think about pulling it back into a tiny bun, I’m trading your sword in for a wooden ruler,” I vowed.
Beatrix smiled as she reached over and gave my hand a few assuring pats. “Don’t you worry your two-hairstyle little head about it. It’s almost the right length for what I have in mind,” she promised.
Once our nails were dry enough to slip our shoes back on, we headed off to Macy’s, but ended up hitting almost every store in-between. It turned out that Beatrix was a closet shop-a-holic. She insisted upon way more than what I needed for the week. But I wasn’t complaining. After all, the majority of my wardrobe had been ruined by her hands. I guessed you could consider the new clothes my spoils — a loser’s consolation prize. Just when I thought we were about to wind down our excursion, I spotted a wickedly cool pair of boots in the window of a ritzy new shop called Snooty Hootie’s. It was the kind of boutique that hands you a glass of champagne as soon as you walk through the door (regardless of your age), after they had sized-up your shopping potential, of course. By the looks of my loaded down arms, we passed their criteria with flying colors.
“Welcome to our boutique. I’m Mara,” a sales associate beamed. She swiftly started eyeing Beatrix from head to toe, painfully trying not to be so obvious with her gawking. With a quick read of her mind, it was official. The sales associate’s brain screamed,
Lost cause… Old and can’t see!
Beatrix’s glaringly-bright, redneck t-shirt alone was enough to make the woman’s eye twitch.
I cringed straightaway. Oh, this is going to be bad…
“Is there anything I can help you with today, Miss?” Mara asked, directing her words to me with a vain throw of her head and totally ignoring Beatrix. Oh, and she caught it too. I could hear the Talisman’s feathers ruffling. Mara made matters worse when she latched onto my arm and announced, “Practically everything in here has your name written all over it.”
“Eh hem. That’s awfully presumptuous,” Beatrix interjected.
“What’s that?” Mara asked, eyes still only on me.
“Your tone…among other things,” Beatrix grumbled. “Maybe I’m the one who’s browsing?”
Mara placated me with a smile and turned to Beatrix. “Well, we typically cater to the younger clientele, Madame. There’s a Sears at the other end of the mall. They have a women’s section that I’m sure would suit your fashion needs.”
Ouch! I guess the associates have to live up to the store’s name.
“My apologies, Madame. Now that I think of it, I do detect the smell of diapers. Shiloh, did you lead me into a children’s store, silly girl.” She started sniffing the air. “I think one of them needs changed.”
“The boots in the window,” I interrupted the saleswoman before another snide word could escape. “A size 8, please?” Mara nodded and hurried off to the back.
“I have impeccable taste!” Beatrix huffed. “How dare that arrogant twit imply that I’m not hip! Why there isn’t one thing in this store I couldn’t pull off!”
I placed my bags down beside a funky-looking sofa constructed of white leather circular cushions. It kind of looked like a clump of fluffy marshmallows. “Maybe it’s the shirt…or your hair,” I teased. “Are you sure you don’t want to rethink that trim?”
Beatrix pinched my arm as we sat down. “Yes, well I’m changing as soon as we get to the hotel and burning this tacky thing,” Beatrix insisted with a rolling gag. “And any more cracks about my hair and I’d advise you to sleep with one eye open tonight…since you’re so fond of my pixie.” I slid to the opposite edge of the sofa, maneuvering my bouncy, bound mane away from her line of sight.
Mara returned with the boots, which were a perfect fit, along with a rolling rack of countless outfits. “Why don’t you try on a few of these? They would look chic with any of them. Fresh off the rack,” she added. I didn’t need any enticing, and by the look on Bea’s face, neither did she.
“Well?” I whispered mentally.
Beatrix eyed the garments nonchalantly. “I suppose what she lacks in humility, she makes up for in her fashion acumen and taste,” she replied covertly and then rose to her feet. “Go ahead, dear.”
“I’ll take her back to the dressing rooms,” Mara insisted and guided her back down to the sofa. “You can wait and rest here.”
“That’s quite all right,” Beatrix replied, jerking away from Mara’s hand. “She needs my input, anyway.”
Mara let out a surprised little chuckle. “And how are you going to do that?”
“I’m blind. I’m not deaf. Fashion sings, Madame. At least, the good ones do,” Beatrix remarked with a stifled grin. “Come, Shiloh. Let’s see if we can get a tune out of this woman’s selections.” Beatrix forged a path to the rear of the boutique, using her cane to take out a few of the store’s
mannequins along the way. That sent Mara scrambling to clean up Bea’s pricey trail of mayhem.
I closed the door to the posh dressing room. “Are you going to behave?”
“I can’t help it. I don’t like haughty,” Beatrix contended.
“You know…I may have rotten luck, but you’re a bitch-magnet,” I affirmed with a firm nod.
“It’s a curse,” Beatrix sighed. “What’s a gal to do?”
It killed Beatrix that almost everything Mara had picked out was spot-on. The arrogant sales woman came back to check on us after a while.
“How’s everything coming?” Mara inquired as she hung several more items on the rack. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t need another pair of eyes.”
Is she just looking for trouble?
“Ours are fine,” Beatrix assured her and waved her empty glass in the air. The woman picked up the bottle and filled her flute. “You know, your name Mara means, ‘bitter’, don’t you?”
Mara’s mouth dropped open. I shot the red-faced store clerk a swift warning,
Watch what you say…
She’s the one with the deep pockets!
“That’s interesting.” Mara forced a smile, for my benefit. “Here are a few more things you might need for your trip.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I ushered her out the door. As soon as I shut it, I whirled around. “Finished?”
“I’m just getting started, my dear,” Beatrix assured. “Don’t blame me. I didn’t set the tone. She’ll certainly have to earn her money today.”
I shook my head and headed behind the dressing screen to try on a few of the new things she had brought in. Now there’s something I really hadn’t thought of, I mused as I untied the item’s straps. Once on, I gave the elastic around my rear a much-needed concealing snap. “Okay…What about this?”
“What’s that?” Beatrix asked.
“What does it look like?” I stated as I motioned towards the bikini.
“For the pool?” she posed.
