by Debbie Civil
Chapter 6
“Wake up,” the Grinch roars. My eyes fly open and I rub them wearily. I’m too exhausted to deal with my Grandmother. Can’t she just come back later?
“What time is it?” I ask, stifling a yawn.
“There has been another theft,” she announces.
“I didn’t do it,” I whine. Seriously, grandmother woke me up for nothing. The only thing that I’m interested in is sleeping.
“I know. I’ve had Vince check on you every hour. You haven’t moved from that bed,” she says. Her confession stings. Grandmother Betty must see it in my face because she explains herself. “Vince had a hard time believing you. He was sure that giving you a phone was a mistake. He was so victorious during breakfast. That was until I noticed that some of my jewelry disappeared, The Grinch explains. What if the person stole your jewelry three nights ago?” I ask.
“They didn’t. I wore this jewelry yesterday,” Grandmother responds.
“No offense, but what does any of this have to do with me?” I ask.
“That boy you were with yesterday. Did he take it?” she asks. Shock fills my expression. Is this woman serious? Peter wouldn’t do such a thing.
“What about your servants?” I fire back, in a voice that suggests that Grandmother is dense for not considering it. The bitter old woman fidgets for a moment, but then straightens.
“My servants have all been searched. They all live in this house. If one of them stole my jewelry, they must have hidden it very cleverly,” she says.
“So Peter is your next suspect? He was hardly in the house more than a half an hour. He was with his uncle the entire time. What about Tia? Did she have any friends over?” Grandmother shakes her head.
“Her only friend is Olivia. That girl wouldn’t have taken a thing from me.” I yawn and look at the clock. It’s 6:30, far too early for me to start my day.
“Chelsea, you have to keep your eyes open. I need to catch this thief, the old woman pleads.
“Why can’t you just buy more jewelry?” The question comes out so harshly that I wince at my cruelness. Grandmother’s frantic expression never changes.
“Because, some things are sentimental,” the woman explains before walking away.
In that moment, I'm filled with sympathy. This poor woman is being terrorized in her own home by an unsuspecting thief. But my feelings turn to anger. She accused me and Adam because she pegged us as poor thieves. She probably alerted Adam’s probation officer. One strike against him and he goes back to jail. Grandmother put Adam at risk. What if he does go back to prison? Who would I have then?
“Chelsea,” a soft female voice calls.
“Come in,” I greet knowing that it’s just one of the maids. I’m not surprised that the Grinch reassigned Amy. She probably figured that Amy favored me a little too much. This girl is beautiful with long curly black hair, skin the color of caramel, and a wide smile. She’s dressed too nicely to be a servant. She’s wearing a red off the shoulder casual dress with green flats. She saunters in and places the tray on the table. There are two different plates with two sets of silverware. She winks.
“Amy couldn’t bring the food up to you. So I offered to fill in. I’m trying to convince grandma to higher me as a summer employee,” the girl explains.
“I’m Chelsea,” is all I could really say. She’s my cousin. That’s the first thing that I manage to think. She seems a lot friendlier than Tia.
“I’m Carmen.”
“Oh, I’m Chelsea.”
“Oh, I know.” She motions for me to join her at the table. Peter's bear tumbles to the ground when I slide out of bed. Carmen glances at the stuffed animal with interest.
“Adam gave that to you?” she asks.
“No, Peter.” She clearly has no idea who Peter is. Of course, Grandmother probably told the entire family about the incident with Adam. It bothers me that he could never live up to the bitter old woman’s standards.
“Peter?”
“So Grandmother told you about Adam?” The question is hostile. Carmen’s golden brown eyes darken.
“No, Tia told me. What’s with the attitude? I’m only trying to be nice to you.”
“No one asked you to,” I hiss. The girl doesn’t deserve the attitude. But her kindness makes me feel sour. So poor Chelsea has to be consoled by a rich snob.
“I tried,” Carmen mutters. She stands, but pauses as she eyes her breakfast sandwich. Apparently, she’s hungry enough to sit and eat. I sit down across from her and immediately attack the hash browns. She sips her orange juice and stares at me as if not knowing where to go from here.
“What did Tia tell you about Adam?” If she even says that Adam is a thief, I’m going to…
“Just that he is your boyfriend,” Carmen says.
“Oh.” The silence is thick. That forces me to add more. “I thought Tia was talking bad about him. That’s all.” Carmen’s face brightens, as if all of this makes some kind of sense.
“Tia says a lot of things. But everyone knows not to believe her. She can have quite the wild imagination,” Carmen admits.
“She’s a liar. I did not sneak Adam in here the other night.” Carmen nods in agreement.
“If I were to bet, she probably snuck the thief in. It will take grandma a while to realize that. In case you haven’t noticed, Tia is her favorite,” she explains before biting into her sandwich. Carmen closes her eyes and sighs in contentment. “Dad is a vegetarian. We aren’t allowed to eat meat in the house.”
“How many uncles do I have?”
“Three. Kenny is my dad. You’ve met Uncle Eric. Then, there is Uncle Ben. He’s the rebel,” Carmen says.
“I thought my dad was the rebel,” I argue.
“Marrying your Step cousin doesn’t make you a rebel. It makes you…” She pauses, unsure of how to proceed.
“What are you talking about?” I squeak out.
“Your mother is your Uncle Vince’s step daughter,” Carmen announces. “Chelsea is after all half mine,” Gladys had told Grandmother Betty. That realization has me shivering. The plastic doll is my grandmother.
“You can’t be serious. Gladys is my grandmother?” She’s even worse than Betty.
“Yup. From what Dad told me, twenty years ago, your parents eloped. The two families hate each other. So it caused a huge mess.”
“What did Gladys do to be hated so much?” Carmen laughed.
“She had an affair with Grandpa, god rest his soul. They had a love child, Justin. He’s a few years older than us. I see him from time to time. Apparently, grandpa left him money, which pissed off grandma even more,” Carmen explains.
“Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?” Well, that is a stupid question. She could hardly tell me that she had married her cousin. Although they weren’t blood related, it was still weird. Rain and I weren’t blood relatives. But I could never see me marrying her brother Donald. Not that I would. The guy has major temper issues. Besides, I couldn’t quite forget that when he was younger, Donald picked his nose and tried to fart the alphabet.
“I always thought you knew. I’m sorry.” Carmen didn’t look apologetic. If anything, she seemed relieved that everything was out in the open. Before either of us could say anything else, Uncle Eric walks in carrying a gift wrapped box. He smirks when he spots us.
“Guess what I have!” he exclaims, his face lighting up like the sun.
“I’m not sure,” I answer. He places the box on my desk and spreads his arms out wide.
“I bought you a Mac. I figure I should start making up for the fact that I never got you Christmas presents.” His admission makes me feel sad and happy at the same time. It sounds childish. But I don’t want to like Eric. He’s supposed to be the person that shut his brother out. After meeting Gladys, it’s easy to understand why the family was so angry. But, Mom is different from her mother. She is soft, sweet, and understanding. One look at Gladys tells me that she is all about herself.
“Thanks.” Uncle Eric’s blue eyes light up. He hadn’t expected for me to accept his offering. But what else is there to do?
“Want to meet my dad? He’s awesome!” Carmen brags.
“Just to warn you Chelsea, Kenny is a little socially awkward.” My uncle laughs as he says this. Since Carmen isn’t offended, this must be a family joke. I smile, for the first time feeling in on something.
Carmen and Uncle Eric leave a few minutes later. All of the information that swims in my head is a little overwhelming. Adam needs to hear everything. Then, we can sort it all out together. It is so good to have a boyfriend.
I walk over to my new phone and call Adam. He picks up after the third ring.
“Hello.” He sounds distracted. Maybe one of the guys are over.
“Hey. How are you?” He pauses for a moment before speaking.
“Chelsea, I can’t talk. I have company,” Adam quickly says. I’m about to tell him to call me back when I hear a distinctive voice in the background.
“Adam,” Ivy’s raspy voice calls. He doesn’t even give me a chance to question.
“I’ve got to go Chelsea,” Adam says and then the line goes dead. I walk in the bathroom and strip out of the night gown and start the shower. My mind travels back to the school dance again. For some reason, I can’t escape the memory this time.
I’m wearing a blue spaghetti strapped dress with a silver necklace. The four inch heels make me feel off balanced. The room reeks of heavy perfume and cologne. I feel like I'm drowning in fumes. The food hasn’t been served yet. The tables are covered with purple cloth and the chairs are wrapped with gold linen. The ballroom is medium sized, with the capacity to seat five hundred at the most. Glasses of water are on the table. I’m holding Adam’s hand. He can tell I’m nervous.
“Want to sit down Chelsea?” he asks. I agree and he leads me to an empty round table. He helps me into the chair and hands me a glass of water. I have barely taken a sip when Ivy comes over. Her dress is black and leaves little to the imagination. Her red hair is swept up into a perfect up do, and she has layers of make up on that make her face look shiny. Her gray eyes flame when they land on Adam.
“Hi Adam,” she purrs. Adam looks uncomfortable. At first, I think it’s because he doesn’t like Ivy. But then she smiles.
“Adam, how are you?” Ivy ignores my existence.
“Fine,” he says. He quietly takes a seat beside me and grabs my hand. I feel empowered that Adam is ignoring her. Ivy however looks unimpressed.
“So you forgot about last night?” Her face is full of hurt and regret. Adam doesn’t answer. He simply squeezes my hand tighter.
“Ivy get lost. It’s clear that no one wants to talk to you,” I snap. Ivy smiles.
“Adam, you have amnesia? I knew you would forget,”
“So that’s how you’re going to treat me?” Adam still ignores her. But I can do nothing else but notice how the tide is changing. Conversations have gone quieter. The air is filled with doom. Then, Ivy takes her iPhone out of her purse, tinkers with it and holds the phone in front of my face. Ivy and Adam are dry humping against a wall. Her legs are wrapped around his waist and their lips are meshed together. I stare at the image, not processing what it is. All I can think is, Adam never kissed me like that before. Adam yanks the phone out of Ivy’s hand and tosses it against the far wall. He’s calling my name. But I’m running toward the bathroom. When did I start running? It’s miraculous, how the heels that were once a difficulty seem so easy to move in. I get to the bathroom and stare in the mirror. Hate fills my heart. Look at the pathetic girl, unable to keep a man. How did she expect anyone to be faithful to her? This pathetic girl needs to be destroyed. She needs to die. I punch her in the face again and again until “glass shatters. The blood oozing out of my knuckles doesn’t even alarm me. All I’m thinking is that this pain could stop. It could stop for good. I pick up a piece of glass and slice across my wrist.
Water smacks me in the face. I gasp. The first thing that occurs to me is that someone is calling my name.
“Chelsea! Chelsea! Chelsea!”
“Yes.” My voice is hoarse and I can't stop coughing. I sit up and stare up at Grandmother Betty. She looks worried. That’s strange. Why the concern? Maybe she worried that her poor granddaughter would pass out on the bathroom floor. Why am I on the bathroom floor? Did I put a dent in her precious floor? Is that why she’s mad? It’s as if the woman can read my mind. Anger fills her face.
“Amy, she’s responding,” the woman announces before leaving the room. Moments later, Amy rushes into the bathroom, relief on her face.
“Chelsea, oh thank God. I wasn’t sure what happened to you. I came in here to give you a towel when I saw you. You were thrashing about shouting things. I’m glad you’re okay.” She reaches out a hand and I take it. I stand and pain shoots through me. My ribs aren’t fully healed. Falling on the floor isn’t exactly helping matters.
I’m fine. You can leave.” My order is sharp. Amy doesn’t need to be here for this. She doesn’t understand. No one does. Ivy. Ivy is the source of all of my problems. She stole everything from me, including my boyfriend. She will always be a ghost, haunting everything good in my life. That has to change. But I don’t know how it ever would.
My shower is quick. After wrapping the towel around me, I step into my room and am surprised to see Carmen sitting at the table. She is reading “Twilight” and by the enraptured look on her face, I’m assuming that she hasn’t read it before. I waltz into my closet and pick the most daring outfit, an extremely short and low cut red dress. Carmen gapes when she sees me in it.
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” She is ignored. Mom bought me makeup. It’s somewhere. I run into the bathroom and discover the cosmetics, in one of the drawers that are attached to the sink. Ivy wears makeup. So I will as well. The more powder, blush, eye liner, and red lipstick that cover my face, the more confidence I gain. I don’t bother with my hair. It looks best down. I’m wearing the same black pumps I was wearing for junior prom. Carmen blocks the exit.
“Chelsea, wait. You…” The door opens and Carmen is forced to move out of the way. Amy stares at me.
“Chelsea, you went too heavy on the eye liner,” Amy tries to warn. But nothing matters. Adam seems to like this type of girl. Suddenly, I’m filled with panic. I can’t lose Adam. Ivy isn’t going to take him away from me. She can’t. She has already taken everything else, my popularity, my friends, and my position on the cheer squad. Nothing will take Adam away. Nothing.
“Chelsea, where are you going?” The question has been asked five times since I left my room. Peter asks this time. He’s gorgeous and shirtless. For a crazy moment, I want to kiss him. But Adam is the only one that would make all of this hurt go away.
“I need a favor from you,” I say. Peter frowns. We are standing outside of the mansion doors and the sun is beating down on us.
“What might that be?” Peter asks, eying my outfit.
“I need a ride,” I plead, with hysteria in my voice.
“Where?”
“Elmview.” Peter frowns. He doesn’t know what to say. He was probably assuming that I wanted to go down the street.
“Sure. I’ll let my uncle know,” he says before going inside. During the three minutes he’s gone, I’m worried that his uncle has said no. I’m worried the Grinch will come out here and drag me back inside. Thankfully, none of that happens. Peter returns, wearing a shirt and we walk over to his uncle’s pickup. He has to lift me into the seat because the heels are a death trap.
“Chelsea, you want to go to your boyfriend’s house?” Peter asks.
“He can’t hang with her.” That’s the only thing that escapes my lips. Peter frowns and continues driving. His phone rings just as we reach Elmview. Peter slides his Galaxy from his pocket and answers.
“Hello!” Peter pauses then a smile slips across his face. “I would be honored Mrs. Philips.” “Thank you.” He hangs up and smirks.
He looks at me expectantly, but I’m too keyed up to ask. His face reveals disappointment. I’m unsure why, but that doesn’t matter right now. Peter’s pulling up on Adam’s street and backs the pickup in the driveway across from Adam’s house. “I thought I would say hello to my uncle,” my friend explains. I nod and nearly break my neck hopping out of the truck. Before I know it, I’m running across the street, toward the handsome, blue eyed boy that I love. A relieved smile breaks across my face. He looks shocked, a stack a mail resting in his hands. He’s alone, getting his mail, not hanging with Ivy. She must have left. I don’t give him time to speak. I toss myself into Adam’s arms and he drops his mail to catch me. I brace my hands on his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist and capture his lips with mine. Everything moves so quickly. At first, the sun is burning my back as my mouth explores Adam’s. Then, I’m cold from air conditioning. My back is being pressed against the wall and he kisses me with desperation. It feels like no matter how deep I kiss him, I feel empty inside. No matter how he kisses me, Ivy is still haunting us. Her perfume lingers in the air, her high heels still click against the wood floors, and her voice fills my ears. When Adam pulls his mouth from mine, I feel sick.
“Get a room,” Ivy protests. So she is here with Adam. His face grows pale as I really smell him. He smells like Ivy’s perfume.
“You were with her again?” I ask. This can’t be true. This really can’t be true. No. Adam wouldn’t do this again. The guilt in his eyes confirms everything. I push at his shoulders and Adam helps me to the ground. The world is spinning. So I lost him again. Now nothing else is left. Mom and Dad are away looking for affordable housing. Grandmother doesn’t love me. No one knows me.
“Chelsea?” Peter. Peter is here. For some reason, he looks blurry.
“Chelsea, I didn’t know we were exclusive. You’re moving. You couldn’t have expected me to…” Adam doesn’t finish his statement. Peter slugs him in the jaw and he goes down. Then, I’m being lifted in the air and cradled into warm, strong, secure, arms. My tears soak Peter’s t-shirt as he carries me out of the house.
“It’s okay Chelsea. You don’t need to cry.” He continues to whisper gentle words in my ear and like a baby I slowly cry myself to sleep.
I wake up when someone places me in my bed. My eyes open and I stare into the face of a complete stranger. He sighs when he sees that I have woken up.
“You look awful,” he observes.
“I know,” I say agreeing with the man. He’s right, I do look bad.
“The makeup is everywhere,” he continues. That’s when it occurs to me that he means that I look bad do to the state of my face. He isn’t saying that I’m ugly.
“Who are you?”
“Your Uncle Kenny,” he answers as he takes a seat at the table. He looks like dad with the same blue eyes and brown hair. But his cheek bones are more pronounced and dad has a beard.
“Where’s Peter?”
“On his way home. You really cried a river on his shirt,” Kenny responds.
“Am I in trouble?”
“Depends,” Grandmother Betty says as she strolls in. She looks furious. Her appearance sobers me up a bit.
“On?”
“What happened?” the Grinch demands. I’m too tired to answer and my body decides that it would much rather sleep than expend any more energy.
