Talisman

by S.E. Akers

  My heart pounded inside my chest as I stood there gaping at the freakish rattlesnake that lay limp in her grasp. Its body had to be at least a good twelve feet long, stretching from her tightly clenched hand to the ground and then curling around her feet. The snake’s girth was equally as horrifying. At the scaly beast’s widest point, it looked just as thick as one of my thighs, possibly thicker. Then my disbelieving eyes returned to its head. Even it was larger than both of her fists put together. This thing was more like an anaconda than any common variety mountain rattler, and it was here with its sights set on me — of all times and places. Though no matter how stupefied and frozen I was by the likelihood of both its existence and presence, my eyes continued to swell from the sheer impossibility of the heroic feat I’d just witnessed from of all people, an elderly blind woman.

  “Shiloh, are you okay, dear?” Ms. Sutherland asked with utmost concern.

  “Um . . . Yeah,” I mumbled dazedly (and without checking). My hands started feeling out my head and upper body with brisk pats as I came to my senses. “I think so,” I assumed. “Where did that thing come from? I’ve never seen a snake this big before — EVER!”

  “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I feel simply awful. It must have been hanging on a branch in one of these old cypress trees. I haven’t had them pruned all year, and I bet they’ve grown out of control. I should have had Tyler trim them back when he was here last week. I figured they probably looked bad, but I had no idea how dangerous they were.”

  Hearing an apology was the last thing on my mind. I was well aware of how the snake could have been in the tree, but that didn’t help me comprehend how in the world she knew I was outside or better yet, how accurate her blind-eyed aim was in reference to its demise.

  “But how . . . How on earth did you know WHERE it was?”

  Ms. Sutherland lifted the scaly corpse in the air and gave its tail a quick shake. “By its rattler, dear,” she replied casually.

  It took me a second to process her answer. “Maybe . . . But you grabbed it and killed it in one shot! HOW?” I demanded skeptically.

  “Lucky, I guess . . . or rather you were the lucky one,” she deduced with a smile.

  No shit, I confirmed, eyeing its long and pointy fangs. All of my earlier suspicions were aroused once again.

  “Okay, but . . . how did you know I was outside — BESIDE THE TRUCK?” I stressed.

  There’s no way she can spin this one, I thought confidently.

  “I was coming into the kitchen and heard the back door slam, so I followed whomever it was around the side of the house. I heard the sound of a rattler coming from above, and well, my instincts just automatically took over. My eyes may not be of use to me, but my other four senses are very fine-tuned. I’ve gotten quite familiar with the sounds of rattlesnakes in the woods from—”

  I interrupted her far-fetched excuse. “From your bird-listening expeditions, right?” I posed crisply.

  “Exactly, dear,” Ms. Sutherland replied in a candy-sweet tone.

  I threw out my arms in defeat and didn’t give a single flying-flip if she could see me doing it either. My patience was spent, and I was sick of her twisted game. On one hand, I was grateful that she’d kept me from becoming snake-bait, but on the other, she was driving me crazy with suspicion. WHY?

  I suddenly remembered seeing something stuck on her forehead when she had leaped out to grab my slithery attacker. I started inspecting her face and found myself impulsively brushing her forehead with my hand. Alarmed by my actions, Ms. Sutherland immediately jumped back and began rubbing her head.

  “Shiloh, is there something wrong?” Ms. Sutherland asked nervously. “Oh, goodness. Did some of those little needles land on my face?”

  “No,” I replied somewhat confused. “There aren’t any needles, but I thought I saw something on your head . . . Something round and kind of glassy.” Mystified, I stared at her forehead. I could’ve sworn I saw something there. My eyes searched all around to see if anything had fallen onto the ground. Nothing but grass…and a little old lady holding one huge, dead-ass snake.

  “Come back inside, dear. You need to sit down for a second after a scare like that . . . And besides, I have something for you.” She pitched the snake down onto the grass beside the driveway. “I’ll get Mr. Mayfield to dispose of that when he comes back by later.” She felt around for my hand and then guided me back down the path beside the house, en route to the kitchen.

  No sooner than I’d plopped down into my seat at the table, my fingers started tapping a steady rhythm unconsciously on its solid oak top. How am I going to find out? After all, she’s had A LOT of practice concealing it all these years…

  “Is something wrong, Shiloh?” Ms. Sutherland asked. She’d noticed my little tapping tick before I realized what I was doing.

  I stopped pecking on the table. “Nothing. I’m still a little dazed, I guess.”

  “We can call it a day if you would like,” Ms. Sutherland suggested. “There are only a couple of drawers to box up in here. I do a lot of cooking, so I didn’t want to pack up my entire kitchen just yet.”

  “I’m fine.” She wasn’t getting rid of me that easy. I planned on staying here as long as it took. “Oh, but Ty already left. He had to pick up his tuxedo for the dance tonight. I’m sure he would have told you ‘bye’, if he wasn’t running late.”

  “He’s such a sweet boy. Well, I suppose you can’t call a high school senior a boy, now can you?” Ms. Sutherland took a sip of her steamy cup of cider. “So . . . The Homecoming Dance is tonight. Are you still going with Mike Riverside?”

  “How do you know about that?” I asked uneasily. Does the whole freaking town know?

  “Your father mentioned the favor you were doing for your sister to me yesterday. Sweet, selfless Shiloh . . . always trying to keep the peace,” Ms. Sutherland stated with a smile as she shook her head. “Your name ‘Shiloh’ means ‘peace’. Were you aware of that?”

  “No. I just thought I was named after that creepy old ridge behind our house,” I huffed.

  “Why do you think that ridge is creepy?” she inquired. “That’s one of my favorite places to go on my nature walks. You can hear so many different kinds of birds up there. A peaceful place and a beautiful name, for an equally beautiful girl . . . both inside and out,” her voice echoed through the kitchen.

  I noted quietly, If you had been attacked by the fiendish black haze that lurks up there, I’m sure you would be singin’ a different tune.

  “What else needs to be packed?” I asked as I jumped up and grabbed a box off the countertop, clearly to avoid answering her question.

  “Just two drawers. I’ve got a bunch of random whatnots in them, like tools and batteries . . . Well, junk really. They’re the ones closest to the door.”

  I walked over and pulled open the first drawer. She was right; it was your average catch-all, filled with nothing but a hodgepodge of miscellaneous items.

  “Do you want me to separate each drawer, or put them both in one box?” I questioned.

  “Separate them, please,” Ms. Sutherland replied as she washed her hands and then began preparing two more cups of cider.

  I dumped all the items into the first box. Once it had been sealed and marked, I started on the last one. I pulled open the remaining drawer to find a small black and red flashlight lying on top. I glanced over at Ms. Sutherland, who had just finished pouring our drinks.

  Now I’ve got her, I thought as I quickly tucked the flashlight into the front pocket of my jeans and whipped my sweatshirt over the top of it. I dumped the rest of the drawer’s contents into the box, taped it up, and marked it, “Kitchen - Miscellaneous #2”.

  “All done,” I announced as I prowled back to the table and sat down.

  In a stealthy fashion, I removed the flashlight from my pocket and hid it under the table. I coughed slightly to conceal the sound of me clicking it on. As I watche
d her sip on her cider, I thought, She can’t talk her way out of this one. If her eyes dilate one little bit, her goose is cooked! Personally, I was praying for something along the lines of a telltale “squint & flinch” on the spot — ’cause I had one heck of a victory dance just itching to drop.

  I waited until she lifted the hot cup of cider up to her mouth for a drink. That way those “keen senses” of hers wouldn’t feel any traces of heat coming from the light — if it turned out she was being truthful. She would simply feel the warmth coming from the hot cider hovering in front of her. As soon as she lifted the strawberry adorned mug towards her, I quickly raised my arm and shined the flashlight directly into her left eye. I waited for a few seconds, but it remained unresponsive and fixed.

  Nothing, I pouted silently. Her face didn’t even shift an inch. Disgusted and disappointed, I moved to her right eye. Just like her left, it stayed completely motionless.

  Damn… I was so sure. I lowered my head in defeat, conceding that my theory had failed on so many levels. Well, at least she couldn’t see me… Though ironically as I sat there feeling like crap, Ms. Sutherland looked like she was about to burst with joy.

  “Shiloh, now I know you told me that I couldn’t pay you, but I want to give you something . . . for your birthday,” she clarified.

  I looked over at the trusting little old lady who seemed so excited about giving me a present. Would she still feel the same way if she knew what I’d really been up to today?

  “You didn’t have to buy me anything, Ms. Sutherland. I wanted to help you.” My insides were reeling with shame. Ugh… Now I really feel like shit!

  “I know that, dear. That’s why I want to give you something of mine. I didn’t buy you anything. It’s something I’ve had for ages, and now it’s time to be passed on — to you.”

  Ms. Sutherland’s request seemed so sincere, and she spoke with such grave conviction that I felt even worse at the thought of denying her plea. “All right,” I consented.

  “Excellent! Now, close your eyes, dear,” she softly commanded.

  I closed my eyes and waited patiently in the silence of the room. However, as composed as I may have seemed, my thoughts still dwelled on my actions from earlier and how undeserving I felt to receive any gift, especially one from sweet ole Bea.

  I heard a soft tap, and the next thing I knew, Ms. Sutherland was guiding my hands towards the center of the table. They landed on something small and firm.

  “Open them up . . . if you haven’t already,” Ms. Sutherland added with a giggle.

  A small box in the shape of an octagon lay under my hands. It appeared to be very old, nothing like you would find nowadays, and crafted from a heavily veined wood. Delicate scrollwork flowed around its sides and covered its top. Apparently it was some sort of little trinket box. I ran my fingers along its edges and smiled. Maybe this was something she treasured as a little girl?

  “It’s lovely, Ms. Sutherland. Thank you. I’ve never seen a box with this much detail before,” I raved.

  Ms. Sutherland laughed. “The box is rather nice, but you have to open it to see the real gift.”

  I gazed curiously at the tiny box, which didn’t have any visible creases to indicate where or how it opened.

  “You’ll figure out my little puzzle box, dear. I have faith in you,” Ms. Sutherland divulged as she sat back and took another sip of her cider.

  I analyzed the box meticulously for the next few seconds. Since this was a puzzle box, I figured the opening wouldn’t necessarily be in the center or even close to its top. I ran the tips of my fingers along the bottom of the small container. I could feel the base starting to give a little as they pressed against it. Going strictly off a hunch, I issued the bottom one firm push and then a small “pop” rang out.

  “I knew you could do it!” Ms. Sutherland exclaimed proudly.

  I lifted off its top and gasped straightaway. Fastened to the wooden base and lying on a pillow of velvet was none other than the little golden topaz ring that normally rested on Ms. Sutherland’s finger — the same one I’d adored as a child and still loved. I was beyond surprised.

  “Ms. Sutherland, I can’t accept this. It’s way too expensive, and I know you love this ring. I’m so flattered, but you shouldn’t do this,” I urged emphatically.

  “Pish-posh! I’m giving it to you, and you’ll accept it. And I won’t take ‘NO’ for an answer.” Her lips twisted in a pucker. “How can you refuse a birthday gift from an old woman like that?” she posed, taking a hard stance.

  “But, it’s your ring, Ms. Sutherland,” I pleaded as I glanced over at her bare ring finger.

  She displayed both of her hands and wiggled her fingers. “I have plenty of rings to go around. I won’t miss it, and I want you to have it.”

  I took hold of her hands and stared at her other nine fingers that were smothered in ornate rings. Some were just bands of various metals while others displayed a variety of gemstones. One of them, in particular, caught my eye. It wasn’t really a pretty ring, per se, hardly as dazzling as her others. It looked like a small cluster of greenish-gray rocks, fastened together like a strand of pearls, and the stones had a small pattern of irregular circles on them. Suddenly I caught an odd scent coming from that particular ring. It smelled kind of putrid, like charred flesh of some sort. My nose crinkled. What could cause a ring to put off an odor like that?

  Ms. Sutherland pulled back her hands hastily and placed them under the table. She seemed a bit embarrassed or perhaps startled. Maybe those keen senses kicked in, and she smelled the odor herself?

  “I don’t know . . . Wouldn’t you rather give it to a family member or something?” I questioned as I fiddled with my oval locket.

  Ms. Sutherland appeared to have a twinkle in her aimless eyes. “I don’t have any children, and I haven’t seen any of my sisters in years. I’ve always thought of you as a part of my family, ever since you were a little girl. I know you haven’t come around here as much as you used to, but my feelings for you haven’t changed, Shiloh.” Beatrix’s words were deeply touching and profound. She could sense me starting to cave. “Please, Shiloh . . . I’m getting older, and I won’t be around forever. I want to know that it’s with someone who will treasure it as much as I have.”

  That did it — “guilted” again. Though I was secretly thrilled at the idea of receiving my first real ring (my class ring didn’t count), my conscience still felt a few pangs knowing she was giving up something she’d cherished for so long.

  “Of course, I’ll accept it, Ms. Sutherland.” I leaned over and gave her an affectionate hug, which she warmly reciprocated with an oxygen-depriving squeeze of her own. I thought my boobs were going to shoot out of my back at any second.

  For a little old lady, she sure does have a strong embrace, I mentally noted, eyes flaring.

  “Splendid! Let’s get it on that finger, shall we?” Ms. Sutherland felt around for the base that held the dainty golden topaz ring and unfastened it with swift precision. I extended my right hand. She held it in hers and responded promptly, “Oh no. Give me your other one. You should only wear it on your left.”

  “Okay,” I replied indifferently as I slipped off my Welch High School class ring and transferred it to the corresponding finger on my opposite hand.

  I thought the only ring-wearing rules applied to engagement rings and wedding bands. Go figure?

  I held out my left hand. Ms. Sutherland quickly located the intended finger and gently guided the ring on without delay. The round gemstone wasn’t placed in a traditional setting. It was only secured on its sides by a narrow gold band. Once in place, I felt a surge of euphoria throughout my body, almost like I was glowing both inside and out.

  I stared at the golden topaz, awestruck by its splendor. Who knew a piece of jewelry could make you feel this way?

  She took a deep breath and began to speak earnestly. “May this topaz fill you wi
th peace . . . Its hue unfailingly protect and conceal you from peril . . . And its brilliance illuminate you in your darkest of hours.”

  Ms. Sutherland’s words sounded extremely peculiar. I was left nothing less than wide-eyed and speechless by her ceremonious, and not to mention, downright bizarre manner of bestowing the ring.

  Considering the events of the past few days, maybe there is someone crazier than me in town after all?

  Ms. Sutherland was very observant to the stillness of the room. “ . . . And Happy Birthday!” she belted out in a zippy fashion and then placed my hands back on the table.

  “Thanks, Ms. Sutherland,” I replied awkwardly. Even I had to admit that the “thank you” I’d just given her didn’t sound very appreciative. “I’ll never take it off. Just like my locket,” I added with a smile.

  Ms. Sutherland’s eyes narrowed. “Really? That’s nice, dear, but I’m curious . . . Have you ever wanted to take off your locket?”

  What a strange question? “No. Not really. It was a gift, from Char— um, my mother.”

  “How do you clean it?” Ms. Sutherland probed.

  I started to wonder if she was rethinking her gift. “Oh, I always scrub it off when I’m in the shower, and I’ll be sure to clean this every day too,” I insisted. “I think Char— (I caught myself again) — Mom, has a jar of jewelry cleaner on her dresser.”

  “There’s no need to use that harsh stuff. Cleanse it in some salt water every night. Sea-salt is actually the best kind to use,” she instructed.

  “All right. Sea-salt it is,” I agreed firmly.

  “Also, it wouldn’t hurt to let it catch a few moonbeams once a month, when the moon is full . . . just for good measure.”

  I didn’t think my eyes could have stretched any wider or remained more fixed. “Oookay,” I agreed aloud, though uncertainly.

  “Well it sounds like my little baby has found the perfect new home,” Ms. Sutherland proclaimed, her face shining brighter than any of the gems on her fingers.

  I looked over at the strawberry-shaped clock above the refrigerator. It was almost 3 o’clock, and since I still had that annoying “good deed” hanging over my head like a noose, I really had to go.

  “Ms. Sutherland, I need to be heading home now. You know, ‘the favor’ I’ve got to do this evening,” I remarked, my voice drenched in disgust.

  “My, the day has gotten away from us, hasn’t it?” Ms. Sutherland replied as she whisked a few strands of silvery hair from her face. “Thank you, Shiloh. You were such a big help to me today.”

  I smiled as I grabbed my jacket. “It was my pleasure, and I’m sure Ty’s, too.” I was just glad she didn’t know about the ulterior motive I’d had for coming by today. Though despite all of my failed attempts, my gut was still churning its doubts. But what business was it of mine anyway? I gave her a big hug, followed by a speedy kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you for my gift. I really love it.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.” Ms. Sutherland gave my back a couple of affectionate pats. “Oh, I almost forgot, and this is extremely important . . . for the ring’s maintenance,” she stressed. I focused intently on her face as she continued to speak. “Always make sure the stone touches your skin,” she insisted. “It needs to —”

  “Make a connection?” I interrupted.

  “Yes! Yes, dear,” Ms. Sutherland beamed. She couldn’t have had a prouder look on her face even if she’d just identified every wild bird in the state of West Virginia by its song in under a minute.

  “So I’ve heard,” I added with a grin as I thought about how loony it had sounded coming out of Professor Tanner Grey’s mouth yesterday.

  I started to exit through the back door when a frightening image of that rattlesnake popped into my head. I paused and spun around. “I think I’ll go out the front — just in case.”

  “You do that, dear, and try to have a little fun at the dance — but be mindful. I know your date leaves little to be desired, but I have a feeling tonight will be a momentous one.” Then she sat back in her chair to finish off her cup of cider, sporting the most knowing grin I’d ever seen.

  “I’ll try,” I replied with a shake of my head and then headed off down the hall. It’ll be momentous all right, if Mike Riverside doesn’t end up in a body-bag by the end of the evening, I affirmed with a nod as I opened the front door.

  Once outside, I spotted Avery Mayfield being dropped off by his wife, Marsha. I threw my hand up and waved as she pulled off down the road.

  “Hey there, Shiloh. Did y’all get a lot done today?” Mr. Mayfield asked, tucking the back of his plaid shirt inside his trousers with a shove.

  “We did. Everything she wanted boxed up is in there,” I replied as I guided him over to the rear of the bright yellow box truck. He inspected its interior and turned to give me a “thumbs up”.

  “Well, I’m off. Nice to see you, Mr. Mayfield,” I called out as I headed to my car.

  “Um, Shiloh . . . Please say ‘hello’ to your mom for me,” he hollered out eagerly.

  I stopped and spun around. “Excuse me?” I snapped. Maybe all of my suspicions about “someone-trying-to-be-deceptive” have been focused on the wrong person today. I folded my arms and locked them at my waist. “What do you mean, Mr. Mayfield?”

  Avery Mayfield looked painfully flustered and guilt-ridden by the way he was standing there nervously shifting his weight back and forth. “Nothin’ much. Just a little, ‘hi’. I haven’t seen her since I, um . . . snaked her pipes a couple of months ago,” he stressed.

  My eyes blazed a hole straight through him. Yeah. I bet you snaked somethin’… The image of Daddy finding out that Mom had been cheating on him infuriated me — and not to mention his wife, poor Mrs. Marsha Mayfield. I guess my mother’s talents aren’t just limited to being a bitch to me. Apparently, she’s the town whore, too…

  Mr. Mayfield was having a hard time looking me in the eyes. He lowered his head and started scanning around randomly. He soon became fixated on something in the grass and jumped back.

  “Speakin’ of snakes, would you look at that thing over there!” He hurried over to the gruesome carcass lying in the yard. He inspected it for a second and then gave its body a nudge with his foot.

  “It’s dead,” I assured him in a frosty tone.

  Mr. Mayfield appeared amazed. “That’s a big one!” His stare homed in on its head, looking puzzled. “How’d it die?”

  “Ask Ms. Sutherland,” I grumbled. I didn’t want to waste my time giving him a detailed account of how “blind” old Beatrix Sutherland saved me and killed the giant rattlesnake all by herself — without decapitation.

  “Dang!” Mr. Mayfield exclaimed as he shook his head and then hurried towards the house.

  My glare shadowed his trail like a sniper waiting for the right moment to fire off my kill-shot. Fists clenched, I closed my eyes and tipped my head towards the sky. How could she do this to Daddy?

  I walked over to the rattlesnake and knelt down to get a better look at my freakish assailant. Its head was enormous, and its face still looked just as menacing, even lying there lifeless. My whole body shook as I thought about its sharp, venomous fangs sinking into my neck.

  I noticed something unusual below its head, where its long scaly body started. The snake’s scales looked discolored in one small, but noticeable spot. Its skin was charred in some sort of tiny round pattern. My nose caught a familiar foul stench. It was the same one I’d smelled lingering around Ms. Sutherland’s hands, coming from that strange ring. As I closely observed the peculiar burn markings on the rattlesnake’s scales, I realized they bared a striking resemblance to its shape — the same stone ring that was banded together like a string of pearls and smelled awful.

  Interesting… Very interesting, I acknowledged.

  I rose from the ground to the sight of Ms. Sutherland and Mr. Mayfield coming outside. I hurried over to my car a
nd hopped in for a speedy getaway. I didn’t want to talk to or even look at Mr. Mayfield, and I certainly didn’t want to start interrogating Ms. Sutherland again. Not after she’d given me such a generous gift and probably saved my life as well.

  Though an evening in the ER would’ve gotten me out of going to the dance with Mike, I mused as I drove off.

  As I approached downtown Welch, my mind kept mulling over the markings on the snake’s neck, as well as its questionable demise. I’d been taught to grab a hoe and chop off its head. I’d never heard of a snake being strangled to death, let alone squeezing it hard enough to leave an impression. Besides, I still found it extremely odd that the dead snake’s body hadn’t twitched at all. It was instantly limp. Unfortunately, something in my subconscious had started to manifest — the strange coincidence of Mr. Estell and how in the heck a snake that size was hanging from a daggone tree. Funny, I thought, that a freakishly large rattler and a possible snake-handler were both in the same place around the same time today… Really funny. And I didn’t mean the Ha-Ha kind either.

  I looked down at the steering wheel and gazed at my new little golden topaz, feeling ashamed. My suspicions were mounting against Ms. Sutherland — again. Who I really needed to focus on was Charlotte, but I didn’t know when I should commence with my interrogation. Before the dance? After the Dance? At my birthday dinner at Twin Falls tomorrow? No time seemed appropriate, but I knew the subject would come up. I shook my head. Eventually…

  Downtown Welch was hopping for a late Saturday afternoon. I spotted several of my classmates walking in and out of Caroline’s Flower Shoppe while I waited at our town’s only official stoplight. They were all carrying clear plastic containers that held either corsages or boutonnières. I hope Chloe remembered to pick one up for Mike. That wasn’t a part of the deal!

  My stomach began to rumble, forcing me to acknowledge that all I’d thrown in it today was one blueberry pancake and a few cups of apple cider. I pulled into Hardee’s, one of our few fast-food restaurants (aside from a Pizza Hut and a Subway), to grab a hot ham ’n cheese sandwich, curly fries, and a Diet Coke. I still had plenty of time, so I just pulled over and ate it in the parking lot. I was finished and back on Highway 52 within thirty minutes. I glanced at my watch. Almost 4 o’clock. Why can’t tonight be over already?

  I came to the fork on Highway 52. Since no one was behind me, I slowed to stop right in the middle of the road. I could see Daddy’s truck sitting all by itself in the parking lot. I felt bad because he had to work when everyone else in town was enjoying their Saturday Night. But most of all, I hated that he wasn’t going to see me off to the dance. I sighed and turned left up the mountain. It sounded crazy. After all, I had an ugly dress and an ass of a date, but a small part of me wanted to share that moment with him.

  Well, It looks like we’ll both be miserable tonight, I thought somberly as I continued up the mountainside.

  I sped up as I approached the ridge. I drove swift and focused, hugging each curve. I didn’t want to linger along that stretch of road, and the thought of having any car trouble made me sick to my stomach.

  Within less than a minute, I spotted our weathered red mailbox up ahead and turned onto our gravel-covered drive. I poked out of the car and all the way up the steps. I still wasn’t in any hurry to get this evening started.

  The front door flew open as soon as I landed on the porch. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?!” Chloe barked, red-faced and furious. “I’ve tried calling you all afternoon on your cell!”

  “I forgot to charge it last night. It’s not even 4 o’clock, Chloe. Don’t have a conniption. It doesn’t take me nearly as long as what it takes you to get ready. Oh, and by the way, thanks for the dress!” I sneered as I pushed past her.

  “Mike will be here around 7 o’clock — to see me, of course. He feels awful about the whole situation,” Chloe huffed and then trotted up the stairs.

  I seriously doubted that. He’ll have plenty of time to sneak around with Kara.

  “FINE!” I yelled. “I’ll be ready whenever he wants to leave.” I grabbed the cordless phone from off the table by the front door. Katie had probably tried calling as well. Charlotte heard the commotion and swayed into the foyer, clutching her wine glass.

  “It’s about time you showed up! Chloe couldn’t get a hold of you earlier. I figured you were going to break your promise.” She took a gulp of her wine and started to stroll into the living room.

  A wave of anger shot through me like a runaway train. “You should know all about breaking promises,” I mumbled under my breath as I made a break for the stairs. She grabbed my arm and jerked me back.

  “What did you say?” Charlotte grumbled.

  This was a no-win situation. Keep my mouth shut and let her get away with it or let the shit hit the fan. I couldn’t be the one to expose her indiscretions. Daddy would be mortified. Then again, maybe he already knows? The town isn’t that big.

  “Nothing, Mother,” I grumbled. “I didn’t say a thing.”

  “I DIDN’T THINK SO!” Charlotte shouted as she flung her glass around, spilling wine all over the oriental rug. She stammered into the living room growling, “Clean that up!” Not only was my mother at her bitchiest tonight, but she was also well on her way to being three sheets to the freakin’ wind.

  I clipped the cordless phone onto my hip and then stormed to the kitchen. I returned to the foyer with a damp rag and dabbed the spot of wine from off the rug. Thankfully it wasn’t red.

  With the mess now blotted clean, I headed for the stairs. On the way up, my emotions got the better of me. Then inevitably, I called out to Charlotte in my sweetest and most sarcastic southern accent.

  “Oh, by the way . . . Coach Hayes wanted me to thank you for all of your help with the football boosters. He said you were a ‘real treat’!” My mother came stumbling back into the foyer, but I kept on my present course.

  I continued up the steps and added, “And Mr. Anderson sent you a basket full of veggies yesterday to remind you of what good stuff you’ve been missin’, too.” Chloe heard me talking and stepped out of her bedroom, just as I’d reached the second-floor landing.

  I spun around on my heel. “And then just today, Mr. Mayfield wanted me to see if there were any other pipes around here that needed a good snakin’?” I propped my hands on the banister and threw Charlotte a blazing stare.

  “That’s so sweet of them,” my naïve little sister declared. “Everybody loves Mom,” Chloe announced and then pranced off to her room.

  My eyes never left Charlotte, who said absolutely nothing. My mother simply glared at me as she took another sip of her wine, just before she staggered back into the living room.

  I shoved open my lavender bedroom door and thought, See, now this would be the perfect time to be able to read someone’s mind!

  I slammed my door and fell against it. My back bumped all of its panels as I slid down to the floor. All I could think was, College days can’t get here soon enough, as I punched in Katie’s number. She answered on the third ring.

  “Shi, where have you been? I’ve called and texted you all day!”

  I sighed. “I forgot to charge my cell, so I just left it in my purse.”

  “Do you need me to come over and drive the getaway car?” Katie giggled.

  “No. I’m still going . . . But why didn’t you get a date so we could have doubled?” I’d been so wrapped up in all of my drama over the past few days it really hadn’t hit me that Katie wouldn’t be there.

  Katie hesitated. “As a matter of fact, Jason Woolfolk asked me two weeks ago, but I told him, ‘no’. I figured you wouldn’t be going, and I didn’t want you to be alone. I thought we’d spend Saturday night like we always do, watching movies at my house until dawn.” Katie let out a subtle sigh. “I found out yesterday that he’d already asked Cynthia Baldwin.”

  I sprang to my feet after hearing I’d abse
ntmindedly abandoned my best friend. Ugh! I felt horrible!

  “I’m so sorry, Katie. Now you’re going to be all alone.”

  “Don’t be. He’s cute and all, but he kisses like a Hoover vacuum. I’ll let Cynthia deal with that. Yuck,” Katie gagged. “But, you can make it up to me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “By letting me come over to help you get ready,” she pleaded. “It’ll be fun!”

  “Don’t you mean hilarious?” I rebutted with a grunt.

  “Well, that too,” Katie laughed.

  “I don’t think so. I’m in such a pissy mood. I don’t even want to fix myself up for it, and there aren’t enough accessories in the world that’ll improve that ugly old rag of a dress.” I walked over to my closet and listlessly pulled open the door. I couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at it a second longer than I had to, let alone wearing it for several hours.

  “Please, Shi?” Katie begged. “Are you sure your bestest, bosom friend in the whole wide world—who’s going to be ALL ALONE tonight—can’t come over?”

  I was amused by her attempt to play on my feelings. My bosom friend knew precisely what tactic worked the best on me — guilt.

  While I listened to her desperate pleas, I laid my cell phone down on the dresser and hunted around for its charger. That’s when I noticed something hanging on the back of the closet door. I turned around curiously. Dangling on the chrome hook was a long, ice blue garment bag stamped with the word, “Lavish”, in a bronze metallic script. Lavish was a fancy boutique in Bluefield that carried extremely chic women’s attire. There was a note attached to the hanger.