by Hotcheri
I nodded. “Yeah. That way we can just pop it in a garden or something and hope it’s still there when we go back to dig it up.”
As I was showing her the metal cylinder that we would actually be putting our memorabilia in, the surly waitress returned with our food. She looked frazzled as she slammed two plates with yummy looking burgers and steaming fries on the side, our frothy shakes and delicious looking cheese dip on our table.
“Enjoy,” she snapped in a tone that suggested that if we happened to choke on our food too, she wouldn't really care.
“Thank you,” CiCi called after her. She stared at her plate of fries, a troubled look on her face. “It must be rough working here.”
“I'll say,” I agreed, talking around a mouthful of strawberry milkshake. We ate in silence for several intense minutes. I guess we were both hungrier than we thought. Finally, once the edge of our hunger had been taken off, I said, “So what did you bring to put in the capsule? Let's go through our stuff and see if they deserve a place in- um, history?”
CiCi shrugged, smiling indulgently at me. “That works. How about you go first?”
Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I pulled an envelope with CiCi's name on it out of my bag. “Okay, I've got my letter to you.” I beamed at her as I placed it ceremoniously into the capsule. “That goes in first, of course.”
I was rewarded for that by a heartwarming smile from CiCi and she gave me a clumsy one-armed hug. “Aw! That's so sweet of you.” I watched as she took out an envelope of her own from her bag. “Here's my letter to you.”
“Wow. It's pretty thick,” I commented, weighing it in my palm before I slid it in the capsule.
“Once I started writing, I just couldn't stop!” She giggled at the mock sad look on my face and patted my hand. “Don't worry, that's a good thing.”
“It better be,” I growled playfully, holding up a white t-shirt with my name scrawled on it.
“What's that?” CiCi wanted to know.
“A band t-shirt signed by the one and only. Slash.”
I folded it and put it carefully in a Ziploc bag before putting it in the capsule.
“Wow, you really met him?” CiCi asked, an awed tone in her voice. I glanced at her, heartened that she even knew who he was. Joanna had had no idea why I was so excited when I called her up right after I met Slash backstage. “Now, if you told me you met Paris and Nicole, that would be a different story,” she'd said.
“Yeah,” I said to CiCi. “Two years ago when I was in L.A. We were at the same hotel and I met him in the lobby.”
I almost scared the guy off with my fan-girl like behavior too, something I didn't share with CiCi.
“That's so cool!”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was really sweet. The guy is my idol, so it was really awesome.”
CiCi held up a coin. “I'm putting in my lucky penny,” she said.
Bemusedly, I handed her a Ziploc and watched as she dropped it in. “What if you need luck in the next few years?” I asked her. “You can't come and dig it up!”
Grinning at me, she said, “I think I'll be okay. Who knows, I might even find a four leaved clover.”
“Or a rabbits foot,” I joked, remembering that day we went to Baskin Robbins and she told me about all the good luck charms she knew about.
“Or a rabbits foot, God forbid,” CiCi said in agreement.
“Next- concert tickets.” I sighed, looking at the two tickets. They had been for the Queen and Paul Rodgers concert that I never even went to and just looking at them brought back memories I would have rather forgot. Just lock them up in a box deep in the recesses of my mind and throw away the key. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that.
CiCi looked at the tickets quizzically. “Concert tickets?” she repeated. “Why are they important to you?”
I swallowed, staring down at the tickets as I stuffed them in a Ziploc. “Shane and I- we were going to this concert on the day of- the day of the accident.”
“Oh, Luke,” CiCi whispered, her eyes huge as she grasped my hands.
“He told me to meet him at the concert coz he had to do something for his mom,” I continued. I just couldn't stop talking, even though reliving Shane's last day hurt me physically. “I was being a jerk about it, calling him a momma's boy, telling him to hurry up and- he didn't show up.” I ran a hand over my face. “His mom called me to tell me what happened but even though she was crying so hard I could barely understand her, I didn't believe it. There's no way Shane could be dead, I told her. I remember like it was yesterday. Even after I saw Shane's totaled car, it still felt like he was playing a bad joke on me.”
CiCi nodded hesitantly, her eyes watery. Mine felt the same way. “I know. I couldn't believe it when I heard either,” she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “He was such a nice guy. He always said hi to me in the hallways.”
I nodded. That was Shane in a nutshell. He always had something nice to say to everyone. Out of our entire clique, he was definitely the most down to earth. “Yeah. He was super special.”
CiCi wiped her eyes with a fresh paper towel before holding out her blue polar bear pencil. “I'm putting in my lucky pencil too,” she said.
Involuntarily, I grinned. “You're gonna be all out of luck, CiCi!”
She shrugged. “At least I won't be using it,” she theorized. “Last week I caught myself sharpening it.”
I raised my hands, holding out a Ziploc. “Then by all means, put it in!”
CiCi did, a thoughtful look on her face. She looked up at me. “I don't really have that much to put in here,” she told me, sounding slightly dejected as she fidgeted. “I don't have many things that mean a lot to me.”
My heart went out to her and I draped an arm around her shoulder. “That's okay. The things you've put in already are all that matter,” I assured her, kissing the top of her head. “I mean, I don't really have anything else to put in. Just this photo.”
I opened my wallet and carefully took out a picture of me grinning as my mom carried me on her back. Grandma Astor had given it to me two years ago (in secret) when I went to the hospital to visit her a few days before her fatal heart attack. I had a couple of pictures of my mom (dad had had the rest destroyed, the prick) but this one was the only one which showed us both.
Looking over my shoulder at the photo, CiCi asked, “Is that your mom?”
I nodded, realizing that I'd never thought to show CiCi a picture of my mother. “Yup. That's Vanessa Wright,” I said, a proud note creeping into my voice.
“You look like her.” She smiled up at me and I impulsively gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Flushing with pleasure, CiCi cleared her throat and continued. “You both have mischievous smiles on your faces. That's a compliment, by the way.”
I grinned, kissing her again. “Thanks,” I whispered against her lips, making her quiver as I pulled away.
“And you were so cute when you were younger,” she cooed, scrutinizing the picture, then rapidly looking up at me. “Not that I'm saying you're not cute now! Because you are! I mean...”
Her voice trailed off and she squirmed nervously.
“I know what you mean, CiCi,” I said, chuckling.
She heaved a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. How old were you when this picture was taken? If you remember, that is.”
“I must have been about 3 or 4, because my parents divorced when I was almost 5.”
CiCi was silent for a second, and then she looked up at me. “Luke, can I ask you a personal question?” she asked, her mouth set resolutely.
Puzzled, I nodded at her. “Sure. What?”
“Do you mind telling me what happened with your mom?”
I tensed, scratching my chin. Ohh... “It's a long story,” I said honestly.
“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” CiCi said immediately, obviously sensing that she might have just stepped on a land mine.
I shook my head. “No, I kinda do have to tell you,” I said slowly
. “I owe it to you, after what you've told me about your family. But- I don't really know where to start.”
It was a long, unbelievable story, the kind a soap opera would come up with. Unfortunately for me, it was all true.
“Not to sound cliché or anything, but starting at the beginning is usually the best way to start.”
Staring at my hands, I thought for a while. “I just know a little bit, from what my Grandma told me. My mom is a British baroness.”
“Really?” CiCi sounded awed. “Wow.”
I nodded. “Yeah. When she was 22, she came over here to John Hopkins to study medicine and somehow, she met my dad.” I tried to keep the note of disgust out of my voice. Of all the people to run into, she had to meet my dad? Then again, if she hadn't met my dad, I wouldn't have been born, so it was a catch 22. But still...“She fell for his charms and they had a one night stand and parted ways. Then mom found out that she was pregnant and she searched for my dad. Swore that only he could be the father. Her family disowned her, saying she had brought dishonor upon their name or some shit. My dad’s parents forced him to marry her, since he had gotten her pregnant. Code of honor, I guess. He didn't love her but mom- she loved him, despite the fact that he only agreed to marry her because he was forced to and despite the prenup he had drawn up.” I sighed. “Guess mom hoped she could change him because he was really all she had.”
CiCi nodded with understanding. “And you were born?” she asked quietly.
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “She had a miscarriage.”
Looking shocked, CiCi covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no!”
“Dad- he was elated, according to my grandma. Started divorce proceedings, since he wasn't 'tied' to her anymore.” I snorted bitterly. Obviously, dad’s heartlessness had started a long time back. “But his plans changed when mom found out that she was pregnant again. With me. Dad was furious.” I can just imagine it now. He probably went on a drinking spree and started smashing and throwing everything in reach, having his version of a tantrum. “He swore mom must have cheated because he didn't sleep with her. Ordered a DNA test as soon as I was born. As it turned out, I was his son and he couldn't do anything about that. But he still hated my mom and he started plotting to get rid of her. So he had her set up. You see, one of the clauses in their prenup was that if either of them cheated, the cheater would lose custody of me.”
Gasping, CiCi said, “Uh oh,” her eyes not leaving my face.
Talking about this was pretty therapeutic. I had never talked to anyone about my mom before, not even Shane. Maybe I had just been waiting for the perfect time. The noisy diner might not have been the best place for me to bare my soul, but it felt like the right time. And the right person to tell my story to.
I gave CiCi a quick squeeze before continuing. “I don't know how he did it but somehow he set her up. Claimed he had evidence that she was creeping around with some guy and declared the marriage over and I belonged to him. According to my grandma, mom initially refused but it was her word against his and he had expensive lawyers backing him, as well as the Astor name. She had no backup whatsoever. So she agreed to the terms of the divorce. He would give her money to finish school and she would give up custody of me and not have any contact with me without dads express consent. And just like that, she was out of my life.”
I took a sip of my milkshake, my throat dry from talking.
While I respected the fact that my mom had just let my dad take me without putting up a fight because she didn't have any support at all, I didn't have to like it. And I didn't like it. I could barely remember my mom, she might as well be dead for all I knew of her. My dad flat out refused to tell me anything about her and as far as he was concerned, he wasn't giving consent for her to see me. “If, when you turn 21, you still want to meet this woman, be my guest,” he would say, all pompous and smug. “But until then, as long as you're living under my roof, I forbid you to have anything to do with her.”
“You haven't seen her since?” CiCi bit her lip.
I shook my head, expelling a harsh breath. “No. my dad won’t let me. So- I guess I'm stuck with not knowing her till I turn 21.”
“Oh, Luke...” CiCi's eyes filled with tears. “I'm so sorry.”
“She's probably better off not knowing who I am, anyway,” I said self-deprecatingly. “I mean, did you ever see such a screw up? My therapist told me that I'm pretty much back where I started.”
“You're dealing with a lot of things right now,” CiCi exclaimed, fire in her eyes. “Don't people realize that?”
I loved that CiCi constantly got fired up on my behalf. It made me feel like I was worth something.
“You do. That's all that matters,” I whispered into her hair.
We were silent for a few minutes, my heart thumping as I realized that I had actually told someone else about my mother and I felt so much better about it.
As I was putting the picture in the time capsule and screwing the lid of the capsule on, CiCi suddenly sat up straight.
“Wait!” she commanded. I looked at her as she paused uncertainly. “I'm going to put in my locket.”
“Why?” I asked, not getting it. That locket was the only link CiCi had to her mother. Why would she want to give it up?
“Because your picture with your mom obviously means a lot to you.”
I nodded slowly. “So much,” I said in a quiet voice.
“And this locket- it means a lot to me too. I just think they should be in there together. Because we're in this together.” She glanced up at me, a frustrated look on her face. “I just don't know how to say it.”
“I understand what you want to say,” I reassured her. And I did. “You know, we have so much in common. I'm glad that we're in this together.” CiCi smiled up at me, her hazel eyes shining. “Are you sure you want to do this though? 5 years. That’s a long time.”
“No, I'm not sure. But it’s better than me waking up one day to find that Nate's hocked it. He did that once before, you know.”
Bastard.
“Maybe it is safer in here,” I mused. “You want me to take it off you?”
Nodding, CiCi turned and lifted her ponytail. “Please,” she said, her voice shaking.
Carefully I unclasped the locket, softly trailing little kisses on CiCi's neck as I took the locket off. I slipped it into a Ziploc and slid it into the capsule. Just as I was putting the metal cylinder into the rock, the waitress stomped up to our table and threw down the bill.
“You guys need anything else?” she asked, her black hair wisping from her bun as she furiously chewed on her bubble gum.
“Um, no,” I replied, unable to take my eyes away from her bitten to the quick nails. “No, we're good.”
Without another word, she left our table.
CiCi stared after her, her hazel eyes upset. “She looks so stressed out.”
I checked out the bill. Fifteen dollars. Reaching into my wallet, I took out several crisp notes and stuck them in the little bill book. “I'll leave her a tip,” I said to CiCi. “It's on my list. And anyway, she looks like she needs it.”
I didn't tell CiCi how much of a tip I was leaving her, but I didn't need to. Her eyes shone. “You're so sweet, Luke.”
“C'mon, we should go, if we want to be at Liberty Island before the dark.”
“You didn't tell me we were going to Liberty Island,” CiCi said, excited as she stood up, picking up her bag. I noted with satisfaction that her plate was empty.
“You didn't ask,” I joked, putting an arm around her shoulders as we gathered up all our stuff and walked to the door.
“Hey! Sir!”
I turned around. The waitress was standing by our recently vacated table, the bills in her hand. She looked like she was the victim of a nasty joke, her top lip lifted in a sneer.
“Yeah?” I asked, even though I knew full well what she was hollering after me about. Damn. I had so wanted to make it out of the door before she realized.
/> “Your bill was only fifteen bucks. You left me- a hundred dollars!”
CiCi (and almost every other diner in the place) did a double take as they looked from her to me then back to her.
“I know,” I said, not exactly relishing the attention. “Keep the change. Great service.”
Well, she was quick in getting our food out!
A slow smile made its way onto her face. It made such a difference compared to the prior sullen expression that had been stuck on her pallid face. “Thank you, so much,” she said fervently.
“No problem,” I said, turning to leave. An old man tapped me on my shoulder.
“You just made that poor waitress’s day, son,” he said in a croaky voice. “You're a good kid.”
I honestly didn't think that I was anything close to being a 'good kid', but the smile that CiCi gave me made me feel pretty darned special.
***
Once at Liberty Island, we walked around the small, windswept grounds, trying to find a place for our time capsule.
“Ooh, Luke! Over here!” CiCi waved me over to a pile of rocks that looked promising. I trudged over to her to see what the excitement was all about. “See, there's a hole right here that's big enough for our capsule!” She pointed at a massive oak tree with a small opening in its trunk. “I doubt they'll chop it down in the near future. What do you think?”
“It’s perfect,” I replied, swallowing hard. The ferry trip here had played havoc with my stomach, awakening my nausea again. CiCi took a closer look at me. “Are you okay, Luke?”
I waved my hand, nodding. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
“Give me the capsule and I'll put it in the hole.”
I handed it to her and she jammed it in, pulling a few rocks from the pile to place in front of the hole 'just in case'. Then she stood back to look at her handiwork.
“Good job, CiCi,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders. “And we're going to meet in this same, precise spot in exactly 5 years-.”
“To the date?” CiCi cut in to ask.
