Sunday was the lazy day for me and Mom again, which was nice.
I told her that Charlie would probably come over to the house. She said that would be nice. Mom planned to stay in the house today and tomorrow, and if I wanted to go anywhere, I could just take the car.
I didn't let the guilt show until she'd already shut herself in her room with her laptop. I made myself a small brunch and went to my room as well.
I didn't feel guilty about hiding things from Mom until Ethan kept pointing it out… like it was a bad thing. I was just trying to protect her. Was that so wrong?
I didn't tell any of the counselors this, but if one of the women hadn't took it upon herself to call my mother and tell her what was going on… I wouldn't have said anything.
Dad had asked that I not tell Mom.
And I wouldn't have.
He'd asked that I keep it a secret.
And I would have.
He'd asked for some time to sort everything out.
And I would have given him time.
He'd asked if I wanted to hurt Mom.
And I said no.
Forgetting the situation she was in, the woman with the baby suddenly fixed her moral compass and called my mother. It was a good move, just bad timing.
The meeting Mom had been in during the call went south when she decided to put everything on hold. She didn't write a thing during the entire divorce process, which was a problem because that was how she dealt with any frustration.
She shut down instead, the idea of dating… or moving on, never coming to mind.
Feeling sick just thinking about it, I put on It Happened One Night, and then Singin' In The Rain.
*
I woke up 'late' Monday morning.
The house phone rang, and Mom was probably already up, so she answered.
I'd jumped up when I remembered Ethan wanted to call me, and maybe he had. Mom never said she'd plugged the phone back in, and I didn't remember doing it yesterday either.
But Mom never came up to my room, so the phone call had probably been for her. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I took the time to clean up my room, glad that I wasn't so tired for Charlie's visit. Maybe Beatrice decided to give me the night off. And while I appreciated it greatly… it still unnerved me.
Wasn't there New Girl to worry about?
There was a knock on my door. It was too early for Charlie, so it was Mom, with the house phone in her hand.
"That was Celia Jones on the phone," she said, smiling at how I was cleaning my room without being asked. "She and Charlie are coming over in two hours."
I kept my face pleasant. "Oh? I didn't know Celia was coming over too."
"Well, she didn't want us to 'hassle' with driving over there and picking Charlie up, so she decided to give her a ride and come along with her. I've already straightened up downstairs. I'm heading to the store for some snacks. Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm good. Drive safe." As soon as she left, I was going to call Charlie and see what happened.
"Okay, well—" The house phone rang, startling Mom that she almost dropped it. "Hello?" She then broke into a smile. "Oh, hello, Ethan."
…
"No, we're up," Mom chuckled. "Sure, I'll put her on. Hey—we're having company over. Interested in joining us?"
"Mom," I hissed.
She waved a hand at me. "Oh, that's too bad. Another time, maybe…? That's really sweet. Oh, I'll put her on." She covered the bottom of the phone and frowned at me. "What's wrong with inviting Ethan over? Charlie will be here."
I took the phone from her—hand on the bottom. "They used to date, Mom," I said quietly. "It's still weird between them." I also didn't want her seeing his face and asking questions.
Mom frowned. "Oh. No one told me." (I was going to pay for that later). She sighed. "Well, I'll be back in a little while."
Once she closed the door, I reluctantly turned to the phone, almost deciding to just hang up. "Hi," I said quietly.
"You never answered the phone."
"Sorry." I didn't know what else to say.
"Uh… okay…." He probably didn't expect a short response. "Well, I think it'll be easier and be less suspicious if I look for the pages myself. My dad's real… iffy about people coming over already. Not that he's iffy about you or anything, but he's real sensitive about people looking through his stuff."
"Oh, that's okay. I get it. And you're right—it'll draw less attention."
"Okay, good. What should I look for exactly?"
"Um…." I glanced down at the vent, where I'd put back the diary. "His personal belongings, something when he was young. Maybe he kept a journal too, or a box of things he and Beatrice and Charlotte traded or whatever. It'll also be difficult to find, though. Those pages were incredibly important. He'd have probably hidden them in something—either scattered in a book, or at the bottom of a small box, like those old cigar boxes." Once I finished talking, I frowned.
"That was oddly specific."
I sighed. "It just came to me."
"You don't have any problem with me reading them?"
"No—go for it. Just let me… or even Charlie know as soon as you find them."
"I'll let you know, then."
"Good. Uh… how's your face?"
He chuckled. "It aches when I smile, so don't make me laugh. Uh…. About yesterday…." He paused like he expected me to interrupt. "I'm sorry about that. You were right. It was one of those 'caught up in the moment' things."
I waved a hand passively, as if he would see. "It's fine. It never happened."
"Right—never happened. And… about that painting…."
"Yeah?"
"It…. It didn't fall on its own… did it?"
"Not really, no."
"Good God—how do you sleep at night?"
I laughed for real this time. "I don't."
*
I was really nervous about Celia Jones entering my house. She knew things, and if what Charlie said was true—about Celia just spouting out premonitions—then I really hoped she chose today to remain silent.
I was with Mom in the doorway as she waved them in. Charlie came in first, only letting me see the worried expression on her face.
"She isn't going to do anything, is she?" Charlie asked quietly.
I chuckled, knowing she wasn't asking about Mom. "I highly doubt it." I turned back toward the door as Celia and my mom hugged. Over Mom's shoulder, Celia gave me a stern look. She knew… knew, or at least suspected.
Charlie caught the exchange, frowning at me.
I was glad I was prepared. "Mom," I said, heading to the kitchen, "I'm gonna go show Charlie my room."
"That's fine," she said, joining me at the table. "We'll be down here if you need anything. Here, take some snacks." She brought out a bowl and put a fourth of the platter in it.
I frowned. "Vegetables?"
"Were you expecting chips and soda? Bella, this is their first time here."
"Yeah, but it's not their grandmother's house."
"This is a very beautiful home you have, Tania." Celia joined us in the kitchen. "I love the assortment of paintings."
"Thank you," said Mom. "We just picked them up…."
By this time, Charlie and I had made a less-than-heroic retreat to my room. Charlie needed me to lead the way, and she seemed relieved by that.
My shelf of random crap caught her eye. "Wow. You were into track and tennis at your old school?"
I shrugged. "No big deal." I sat on my bed, eating a few cold carrots and waiting for Charlie to get her fill of my room.
"No computer?" she asked.
I shook my head. "No point."
Once Charlie was done, she took a book from my shelf and joined me on the bed, taking two small carrot sticks. "So… you wanna start or…?"
Charlie made herself look busy with the book while I went into terrible detail about everything that transpired Saturday, even the stuff with Ethan in my house, in the very kitchen Celia and Mom were currently chit-chatting. Having Charlie's partial attention made it easier talking about the weird stuff. But it also felt good that there were some instances where I could be completely honest. I was lying way too much, and I didn't fully believe in karma, but I believed enough that it would come back and bite me.
When I was finished, Charlie didn't look up right away, and sudden rage arose at the thought that she hadn't heard a single thing I'd said.
But she closed the book thoughtfully, before looking up. "So… Beatrice doesn't want you and Ethan to go out?"
It took me a minute to realize that's what she'd said. "Is that the most concerning part to you?"
She rolled her eyes. "No. The concerning part is when the painting fell. I'd just like to get that part out of the way."
"Well, then, no."
"Whoa…. That kinda sucks. I think you guys together would be great. It's too bad Beatrice is in love with him."
"Do you think so?"
Charlie shrugged. "What else could it be? Or maybe she doesn't want you distracted."
I nodded. "That seems more likely…. But Ethan's handling the missing pages, so all I've got to focus on is New Girl."
"Who's New Girl?"
I launched into my second set of dreams, the ones that didn't have anything to do with Charlotte, Ian, or Beatrice—as far as I knew.
*********
I know it's slow going, but just hold on a little while longer. The turning point is coming up, and I'm still having trouble writing it.
But I will write it.
In the meantime, feel free to look at some of my other stories.
Thank you for your time.