Talisman

by S. E. Akers

  Secretly, I wished we could heal our broken bond. But how can you fix what’s wrong when you don’t know “how” it got broken in the first place? I truly envied Charlotte and Chloe’s relationship. Even though I didn’t share their egocentric outlooks on life, I did want to find someway to fit into their world — at least coexist with them without too much chaos or drama. Which is ultimately why I caved to “the favor” they had asked last night. My frame dropped down into my father’s leather chair with a heavy “plop” of defeat, remembering last night’s events in dreadful high-def detail.

  My shift at the Sterling Drive In was nothing less than rough. The early dinner crowd had started off particularly demanding, and by the time Kara Leighton clocked in, it turned downright grueling — yet another evening of cleaning up after HER customers and picking up HER slack while she flirted with every guy thumping a pulse. To make matters worse, Coach Earl Hayes, the head of our school’s football team and my gym teacher, made his usual Wednesday night appearance, along with his wife and their four year-old little monster in tow. And if that weren’t enough, Chloe topped it off when she and her “too cocky for words” senior boyfriend, Mike Riverside pulled into the parking lot. Needless to say, between a huge mess that Jeffery Hayes had made (which kept me from punching out on-time) and a heated exchange with my oh-so sweet little sister and her jerk-of-a-boyfriend, I needed the rest of my night to be “uneventful”. I should have taken it as a bad sign when I pulled up to the house at quarter to eleven and all the downstairs lights were still on. I tried to sneak up to my bedroom, but fate had other grand plans for me. My mother busted me while I was creeping up the staircase — all because I’d forgotten to turn my cell on “vibrate”. I knew I should have climbed up the side of the house and snuck in through my window. She was the one who had called me. I would soon find out that “she” needed “me”, finally…for the first time in a long while. But what she needed was “a favor”.

  Funny, I didn’t know she even knew my number.

  Knowing my location had been announced like the shuddering sound of a gong rolling through the house, I huffed and puffed back down the steps as pouty as a toddler. Suspiciously, I peeked into the living room. An open bottle of white wine sat atop Charlotte’s curio cabinet. Almost empty. Great…Looks like it’s “drunk” Charlotte tonight, I predicted as I headed to the kitchen. She must have been low on Xanax. I preferred a “medicated mother”. That way, she was only half as witchy.

  I grabbed a hold of the doorframe and swung myself around into the brightly lit kitchen. There they were, the “terrible-twosome”, huddled around our round oak table that sat in the center of the room. I felt the weight of their eyes scrutinizing me like they were about to “hold court” and the lowly peasant they’d summoned had finally arrived to do their bidding.

  As I’d figured, Charlotte was sipping on a glass of white wine in her usual lush-like fashion. I noticed her dark roots had been touched up, so she must have spent the day at Ginny’s Salon. If Charlotte wasn’t sleeping, drinking, or fussing, she was usually pampering herself. What else would you expect from someone who spent twenty years competing in local and state beauty pageants — only to be chosen as First-Runner up all their life? From what Daddy had told me, the coveted “crown” always went to Beverly Rhodes, her childhood best-frienemy. Honestly, if they’d only been judged on “looks”, I really didn’t see why she never won a single title (though I totally got why the honor of being Miss Congeniality had eluded her). Even in her early 40’s, Charlotte was still quite a stunner, though a little timeworn — naturally. She was a super thin, bleach-blonde, blue-eyed mother of two teenage daughters who wasn’t about to let her youth slip away without a fight. At least not without the help of a little Botox oiling her boxing gloves.

  “How was school?” Charlotte inquired in an icky-sweet tone.

  My mother rarely showed any interest in me and never in my scholastic life. The only time she thought about school was in the middle of summer, when she wished it were back in session. Plus, her sugary tongue surprised me, so naturally I was skeptical.

  “Fine…I guess. I, um…have a big Geology test tomorrow, and I really need to go study for it,” I stressed. I was just about to make a hasty u-turn, only to be halted by Charlotte’s voice again.

  “And how was work?” My mother’s blue eyes widened as she pulled her harsh blonde locks behind her ears, suggesting she truly cared about what I had to say.

  “The usual,” I replied warily. It suddenly dawned on me what she was hinting about. “I won’t get paid until Friday,” I added. The two of them were probably in here discussing what to purchase this week with my paltry check — their “hurricane relief fund” when they were low on cash.

  Charlotte lifted her glass and took a gulp of wine while she waved her other hand in the air. Once her glass was back on the table, she smiled at me. She didn’t seem to care about the paycheck. I couldn’t help but ponder, If she’s not concerned about that, then what’s with her interest in “me”?

  Charlotte’s bizarre interrogation continued. “Do you have plans this weekend, dear?” she asked sweetly.

  I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head at her choice of the word “dear”. If it weren’t for the fact that Chloe didn’t work (except on a tan), I wouldn’t think for one second her question was aimed at me.

  After an awkwardly long pause, “Yes” finally shot out of my gaping mouth. “I’m working Friday and Saturday. It’s Homecoming. You know how crowded it’ll be, especially after the game.”

  Charlotte smacked her hand on the table. “I’d completely forgotten that Homecoming is this weekend,” my mother replied.

  That was an obvious lie. She was one of the football boosters this year and had been up Coach Hayes’ butt for months. Homecoming was the most important game of the season. Chloe was even chosen as one of the attendants on the sophomore court. I seriously doubted she had forgotten about that.

  “Why?” I probed. My birthday was on Sunday. Was it possible she was actually going to acknowledge it this year? I wasn’t about to hold my breath. Daddy always handled that. For as long as I could remember, I would wake up in bed on the morning of my big day to Daddy holding a lit, store-bought cake and singing “Happy Birthday”. That was one of our special traditions that only he and I shared. One time, he tried to make one from scratch. We didn’t have any box mixes in the house — bless his heart — so his “attempt” turned out to be a huge disaster. In spite of that, my dependable and surprisingly resourceful father marched into my room with a stack of his blueberry pancakes (my favorite), topped with a long, white tapered candle that he’d snagged from one of the pillars in the dining room. He claimed that he wanted to do something different, but I knew the truth. Mom hadn’t picked one up, like he had requested. So that year, it was truly “the thought” that counted.

  Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought you might be going to the dance,” she hinted in her coyest of voices.

  “No. I’m not,” I replied. A thousand reasons why I didn’t plan on going raced through my head. Spending a night-off with the same hormone-enraged classmates I saw everyday at school and every evening at the Drive-In — No thank you! I was selective about how I liked to spend my personal time, preferably doing more meaningful or constructive things. If I wasn’t working, then I was either studying or hanging out with my best friend, Katie Stowell. She hadn’t mentioned having a date for the dance, so I just assumed we would get together after my shift to watch chick-flicks until dawn. I wasn’t into the school’s “social scene” like my sister and couldn’t think of a single soul I was even remotely interested in going with anyway…Well, not when the only guy I’d ever crushed on was dating someone else. He would obviously be taking his “girl-friend”. Ugh! If you could call her that. I’m sure I wasn’t even a “blip” on his pulse-pounding radar.

  Why on earth would she think I would go out with some random guy I wasn’t even “into” for
the sake of being “seen” at a dance because of social pressure?

  Though I had to admit, there was one thing that made the thought of a school dance sound appealing — the “getting ready for it”. A beautiful dress, matching shoes, a sparkly purse, maybe even going down to Ginny’s Salon to have my hair styled to perfection, possibly a make-over…and even a manicure. Now that I rationalized, was the only perk. I rarely pampered myself, but I was by no means a tomboy. All the “girly attention” had always been paid towards Chloe over the years. A perfect case in point: Halloween, ten unforgettable years ago. Both of us wanted to go as Cinderella. Daddy was to dress up like Prince Charming, and Mom would go as the Fairy Godmother when they took us around to trick-or-treat. When the big day arrived, Chloe came down the stairs dressed in a beautiful satin gown that Mom had picked up especially for her. My costume, however, consisted of a ratty old peasant skirt and my hair in a kerchief. My mother even handed me an old metal pail to hold the candy I would collect and stained my face with coal dust. She explained that we were both Cinderella. I was simply the version of the fairy tale princess “just before the magic spell was cast”.

  No wonder I have issues!

  My sister’s eyes kept raising and lowering as she looked over at Charlotte. That piqued my curiosity. What’s Chloe doing or more important, what does she want?

  “What’s going on, Chloe?” I demanded. “Why are you darting your eyes like that?”

  “Shiloh,” my mother announced. “Chloe has a bit of a…dilemma. It’s quite serious and as a family, we have to do everything we can to help her with this.”

  I was taken aback for a moment. What’s so serious that they need “the family’s help”?

  My eyes narrowed like a doorstop. “You’re pregnant?” I blurted.

  “Hush your mouth!” they shrieked in unison.

  “I said this is serious!” Charlotte snapped.

  Well, excuse me… Against my better judgment, I pulled out a chair and sat down, somewhat intrigued. What could be more serious than a teen pregnancy? This ought to be good.

  Charlotte began, “As you know, your sister has been dating Mike Riverside for almost two months now. Even though they’re VERY serious, it’s still a young relationship in its early stages…so it’s extremely fragile.”

  Amused (and desperate to keep a straight-face), I pressed my lips together while I watched Charlotte compose herself like a doctor who was about to inform their patient that they had a rare, incurable illness. I, like Daddy, hated the idea of Chloe dating such an over-indulged, obnoxious creep. The only reason he hadn’t forbidden their union was because Mike’s father was his boss. Our mother, on the other hand, was overjoyed. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she had already registered their china pattern at the Mercer Mall.

  And for the record, Chloe was an attractive girl, “cutesy” really, and a cheerleader — so it wasn’t like her options were limited. I’m sure almost every guy in her sophomore class would line-up for a date. I secretly envied her long raven locks that framed her perfectly round face and made her big hazel eyes pop out like two stars. She could do A LOT better than Mike Riverside, in my opinion. The idea of her going out with the most arrogant senior — with the worst reputation for girls, might I add — made me want to puke. So basically, I couldn’t care less about this Romeo and Juliet “saga” unless it ended with Chloe getting knocked in the head with a lick of sense followed by a break-up initiated by “her”.

  My mother took another hefty swig of her wine and continued, “The Homecoming dance on Saturday can only be attended by juniors and seniors — no exceptions — even though Chloe’s a member of the sophomore court.” Charlotte shook her head in disapproval. “Elisa Riverside is the chairwoman over the committee. She won’t allow Mike to go to the dance dateless, just because his girlfriend isn’t eligible to attend.”

  “Um, sooo…Chloe’s upset that Mike has to take…someone else?” I guessed.

  “In a way, but…Chloe wouldn’t be devastated if he went with someone she trusted,” Charlotte interjected.

  There wasn’t one friend of Chloe’s who could be “trusted” with Mike Riverside, especially not any of her cheer-chums on the squad. Pretty much every girl in town was looking to land him like a 747 jet. He was the son of Harper Riverside, the wealthy owner of the coalmine where most all the girls in town fathers’ were employed. Oh, I could think of about fifty-plus million reasons why none of them could be “trusted” all right.

  “So,” I probed, “who’s the lucky, loyal friend you’ve picked to go to the dance with Mike?”

  Chloe quickly flashed me her sweet & innocent smile. Nothing good ever came from that facial expression. “Not one of my friends,” Chloe replied. “I’m talking about you… My loyal sister.”

  I practically knocked over my chair when I shot straight up out of my seat.

  “NO!” I objected. “Absolutely not! Have you two lost your daggone minds? WE CAN’T STAND EACH OTHER!” I roared. Mike Riverside was a complete ass, but in all fairness, I could totally see why most of my peers idolized him. He “had it all”. His frame was that of a typical quarterback’s — tall and chiseled. His sandy blonde hair was always gelled to perfection, and he dressed in nothing but designer clothes. I’d be willing to bet Mike had more ponies on the shirts in his closet than there were running around the whole freakin’ state. What teenage girl at our school could resist him? His parents’ fortune and their breathtaking mansion were merely icing on the cake. And unfortunately for my little sister, most everything with two legs and a “XX” chromosome at our school wanted a slice. But I WAS NOT about to be a party to this desperate, and not to mention, ludicrous scheme!

  I took a staggeringly deep breath and continued, “I know it would be a crowning achievement to get Chloe married off into the Riverside family but…Come on, Charlotte! Their relationship will be over before the first snowfall.” Or the first “zipper fall”, I noted silently. “He’s just using her! Mike Riverside doesn’t care about anyone but himself!”

  Chloe let out a shrill wail and started to cry uncontrollably. Charlotte had her arms locked around my little sister in an instant, consoling her like a true mother would.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her, sweetie,” my mother urged to Chloe as she rocked her back and forth. “She doesn’t know anything about true love. She’s never experienced it!” Charlotte barked as she tightened her hug. She took another swig of wine and slammed her glass down on the hard oak tabletop. “I’ll never understand WHY you insist on shutting us our of your life, Shiloh…regardless of how much love we give you. You never think of anyone else! ONLY YOURSELF!” One lonely (and obviously forced) tear trickled down her cheek as she stared at me, waiting for a response.

  My mouth about hit the floor. My mother was really earning her Oscar tonight. She’s got to be kiddin’! “I’m” the “selfish one”? Is she so delusional that she can’t see it’s been “her” all these years who hasn’t wanted any part of “my life”?

  My gaze fell on Chloe. A part of my heart did ache for her. She might be more knowledgeable (or rather “experienced”) about certain aspects of a relationship, but she was certainly misguided about true love and what it meant. Compassionately, I knelt beside my little sister.

  “Look, Chloe…I don’t mean to upset you. I honestly don’t, but this is something I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing.” Without delay, my little sister’s head hit the table in one dramatic “thud” and continued to sob. Knowing the mood in the room was unlikely to improve, I offered her a heartfelt, “I’m really sorry, Chloe,” as I rose from her side and slowly turned to exit the kitchen.

  “Well, this weekend is RUINED!” Charlotte proclaimed. “I just hope Chloe will be able to put a smile on her face Sunday…at your birthday dinner.”

  I paused in the doorway. “What birthday dinner?” I mumbled.

  “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” Charlotte declared with a hint of disappointment in h
er voice. “Well now, you have to promise me that you won’t tell your father, of course…But…he wanted to drive over to Twin Falls for dinner and then we’re…NO. I shouldn’t say anymore. I’ve already run my big mouth enough for the evening and spoiled half of your father’s surprise. I would hate to ruin the best part.”

  I was bursting with curiosity, but I couldn’t summon the courage to turn around, let alone look her in the eyes. Twin Falls was a quaint resort, nestled in the woods near Pineville. It housed a fancy restaurant that people flocked to in droves for special occasions. I’d only been there once with Katie and her family, but I longed to go back.

  A special birthday dinner there would be a treat all by itself…What else could Daddy be planning?

  I turned around unavoidably, like a fish being yanked on a hook. “What part shouldn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  My mother could run a P.O.W. camp in Vietnam. Charlotte said nothing for what seemed like minutes, although I knew it was merely seconds. Finally, her mouth started to move.

  “Your father and I were going to tell you about your present after dinner,” Charlotte announced. “It’s a trip we’re taking in a few weeks.”

  Chloe stopped crying abruptly. “What trip?” my little sister sniffled. Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked at Chloe and nudged her arm.

  “The trip…you know, to let Shiloh tour some colleges…Remember? She’s been sending out all those applications…Caiden thought she might like to see a few of the schools she’s applied to and tour them for herself.”

  Stunned by her announcement, I stood there silently trying to process what I thought I’d just heard.