Mom spent the entire night and all of the next day on a natural high. She called Jamison and Fredericks at eight AM Saturday morning. Ned, the receptionist, had literally just walked in the door, answering the phone with more than a hint of trepidation in his tone. As it happened, nobody had ever called the office before ten on a weekend unless there was a major crisis. It turned out the people of Fort Sangrey liked their sleep ins.
Once he’d calmed down, Ned took Mom’s details and organised an interview with Heath Jamison for Sunday morning. The office wasn’t open for business on Sundays, but Heath usually worked from eight until midday to catch up on his mammoth workload. Hanging the phone up with a delirious grin on her face, Mom declared she had a very good feeling about the upcoming interview.
I didn’t tell her that in a town this small and lacklustre, she was probably the only viable candidate Heath had. How many opportunities were there for people all the way out here to get a degree in paralegal studies? I actually wondered how many graduated from Fort Sangrey High School and left to go to college afterwards. To my knowledge the nearest university was the Univerity of Montana in Missoula, which was a five hour drive away.
In keeping with her fantastic mood, Mom declared Saturday a girls night and even went shopping for DVDs and fresh groceries to cook dinner. Annabel and I were both apprehensive of Mom using more than the microwave in the kitchen, but we respected her enthusiasm and both agreed that if one of us died of food poisoning, the other could have all of her possessions. I wasn’t sure how I felt about possibly inheriting Annabel’s famous condom collection, but then I was hoping it didn’t come down to it.
After a dinner of soggy vegetables, rubbery chicken, and fantastically fizzy store bought soda, we sat down on our new second hand sofa in the living room to settle in for a night of classics. First was Sixteen Candles, followed by The Breakfast Club, The Sound of Music and Casablanca. While we’d merely picked at our main course, we all gorged ourselves silly on popcorn, Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Brittle ice cream and Fig Newtons.
Halfway through Casablanca Mom realised it was one AM, and she hadn’t organised an interview outfit. Under heavy protest she dragged Annabel and I into her room, where she proceeded to destroy her immaculate wardrobe in her mission to locate something “halfway decent”, as she put it. Personally, I thought she could have turned up in jeans and a t-shirt and still be a shoo in for the job.
My comment was listed as not helpful, and so we spent a good hour narrowing down the options until we were left with the only pantsuit Mom had saved from her collection of work clothes in Manhattan, and a simple black, modest dress that hit her just below the knee, had capped sleeves, and a square cut neckline.
“The suit,” Annabel and I said simultaneously.
Of course, Mom spent a further twenty minutes hemming and hawing over the two possibilities, then ransacking the entire pile of reject clothes we’d already tossed on the bed, just in case she missed something. We waited patiently and silently until finally, she conceded defeat and hung the navy pantsuit and matching white blouse on the back of her closet.
Too tired to care much about the rest of her wardrobe, she grabbed large handfuls of clothing and tossed them back to where they’d come from, heedless of the fact they were crumpling on the floor. Kicking the door closed, Mom let out a weary sigh and turned to face us.
“Right, so my interview is at nine. I don’t know how long it will be so I was thinking I’ll go ahead and come back once it’s done. Then Kaitlynn, you and I can go back to town in the afternoon to do some shopping for school. You don’t have a uniform, so you’ll need some clothes, and a school bag, and Mrs. Scott said you can purchase most of your schoolbooks from the post shop.”
Annabel was already shaking her head at Mom’s well laid out plan. “Kaitlynn’s old enough to do her own shopping. I’m sure she doesn’t want her mom cramping her style, following her to and from the fitting rooms. What if lover boy happens to spot her?”
My cheeks flamed at the mention of Gryphon, who Annabel was absolutely certain was in love with me. “I don’t mind,” I said, though shopping unsupervised and unrestrained did have it’s advantages. Mom and I had vastly differing opinions when it came to fashion and tasteful clothing.
“You’re just saying that,” Annabel insisted, nudging me playfully. “I’ll give you my card. You might as well go in with Vivien and shop while she’s being interviewed. Two birds with one stone, and you save a trip to town.”
Agreeing to the new arrangement, I dragged myself off to bed, leaving Annabel to give Mom a last minute pep talk. My stomach was a ball of nerves as I contemplated the beginning of my senior year of high school. Never had I imagined I’d be the new girl, yet here I was, a mere thirty six hours or so from becoming the hot topic at a school in which I was sure everyone had known each other since they were in diapers.
I knew the drill as well as anyone. After all, we’d had the occasional transfer student at Hilliard Prep. People tended to stare and whisper behind your back. They were like vultures, waiting to make sure you were prey before they swooped in for the kill. God, I was going to make myself sick thinking like this. Trying to ignore my inevitable future, I closed myself in my room and curled up under the covers. Shutting my eyes, I tried hard to will myself into happy dreams.
The next morning was a race against the clock. Mom overslept by seven minutes, so naturally all hell broke loose. She was like a drill sergeant, cutting my bathroom time in half and barking orders through my bedroom door every minute on the minute.
“You have four minutes, Kaitlynn Hadley Vogel,” She called, rapping her knuckles on the hollow wood.
I’d heard my middle name nine times this morning alone, and I had a feeling she was far from done. I had no idea why she was rushing me; when I’d seen her five minutes ago her hair wasn’t done and she couldn’t find her shoes. I, on the other hand only had to tame my bird’s nest of hair and I was good to go.
“Three minutes, Kaitlynn Hadley Vogel.”
“Alright already,” I grumbled, thrusting the door open. I had my hair tie clamped between my teeth, and a handful of springy curls. “You know, you’re still not even wearing any shoes.”
“They’re in the car,” she said breathlessly, rushing past me to enter the kitchen. She filled a to go cup with coffee, snatched her handbag from the kitchen table, and ushered me out the door.
“Mom,” I shrieked in protest as we clambered into the car and I saw the clock on the dash. “It’s 7:59.”
“I want to beat traffic,” she said, doing a quick U-turn and heading down our mile and a half long drive.
“What traffic?” I asked, bewildered. One thing about living in the middle of nowhere was, there was absolutely no traffic no matter what time of day it was.
“You never know,” she said, and cut off any response I might have made by turning the radio up.
When we arrived in town Mom was officially nineteen minutes early to her interview, something she was fretting over. The streets were deserted; Ned hadn’t been lying, residents of Fort Sangrey really did like their sleep ins. In Manhattan, even at quarter to nine on a Sunday travelling the streets on foot or by car was a serious mission. The city was alive with hustle and bustle from the crack of dawn to well past dusk, regardless of what day it was.
Parking directly outside the law firm, Mom used the rearview mirror to do a final spot check, fluffing her hair out and reapplying her lipstick. This was the most makeup I’d seen her wear since living in the city. She was almost back to her former self. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Okay, I’ll leave you the keys in case you’re done before I am,” Mom said, dropping them into my palm. Annabel said there’s a really good store on Bourbon Street, and another one on Loggerhead Road. Other than that, I have no idea where you’d go.”
“Mom,” I said, grasping her by the shoulders. “You’re rambling. Relax. It’s going to be fine. Just be yourself, he’ll love you. And if he doesn’t, then he’s missing a few screws because you’re perfect.”
She offered me a watery smile, patting me gently on the cheek. “I raised such a beautiful girl,” she sad, going all nostalgic on me.
Before I could stop her she planted multiple kisses on my cheek and forehead.
“Gah!” I cried, fighting her off. “That stuff is going to stain my face!”
While Mom laughed and hopped out of the car, I scrubbed the smeared lipstick from my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt, glowering the entire time. Once I was sure I was decent, I slung my purse over my shoulder, locking the car behind me as I meandered down Melrose Street. The first thing I did was hit the diner on the corner, Pat’s Place, where I ordered a hot chocolate and banana muffin.
The place was all but deserted, only one other patron besides me occupying a booth. A waitress in a simple black uniform dropped off my order, and I asked her what time the other stores would be opening.
“Nine o’clock, sweetie, and they all close at one on a Sunday,” she said, passing me a radiant smile before she moved on to her other customer.
I checked the time on my phone. I had five minutes to kill. Just enough time to have my breakfast before locating Bourbon Street.
As it turned out, Bourbon Street was all the way across town. The walk made me realise Fort Sangrey was a lot bigger than I’d originally anticipated, and it wasn’t until I was almost there I thought about the fact I had a car and could have easily driven. Not that I minded too much. It was another gorgeous summer day in Montana, and the atmosphere was relaxed as shop owners unhurriedly opened their stores, stopping to chat with each other in the process.
As I’d suspected, this was a neighbourly town, where everybody knew everybody and had done for years. I wondered if there was room for outsiders amongst them. Whether any of the people who chatted so familiarly with each other had once been where I was now.
The store Annabel mentioned was up towards the end of Bourbon, and by the time I reached it, it was fully open for business. A doorbell chimed overhead as I entered, and I was immediately swallowed by rows upon rows of clothing. Tightly packed and close together, I had to shimmy sideways between them. It didn’t take long to get the lay of the land. On the right near the cashier’s desk was a small section for men and kids, but the majority of the store was dedicated to selling women’s fashion.
I picked a row at random and started browsing, aware of the store clerk tidying up somewhere behind me. My fingers automatically found the price tags first, and my eyes bugged out of my head at each and every one. Twenty dollars for a pair of jeans? No wonder Annabel had bought home so many. And five bucks for a t-shirt. This was insane! The only thing you could get for five bucks in the city was a hot dog, if you were lucky.
Several pieces caught my eye, but beyond that I had no idea where to start. I must have looked as helpless as I felt, because the store clerk floated on over, navigating the tight aisles with an ease I envied. She picked up the shirt I’d accidentally knocked off the rack and rehung it.
“Can I help you at all?” she asked, her voice soft and delicate.
At second glance I could discern she was somewhere around my age. Towering over me at somewhere near six foot in flat shoes, she was an absolute stunner with her long, natural white blonde hair and stormy grey eyes. Her pale complexion complemented her features all the more, as did the light blue dress draped over her willowy frame.
“If I looked as gorgeous as you did, I would say no, I don’t need any help. As it is, I’m a walking disaster and I have no idea where to start. So yes, lots of help. I need lots of help,” I replied, gesturing at yet another pair of tan Capris I owned, and my dark brown summer sweater.
The girl looked me up and down with a critical eye, her verdict delivered with a shrug. “You look fine to me.”
“I’m wearing brown,” I clarified, like maybe she’d missed this detail. “Head to toe, brown. My clothes match my hair almost perfectly.”
She giggled now, the sound even more delicate than my mother’s laughter. Yep, standing in front of me was a proper woman in the making. Next to her, I was the classic ugly duckling, only there’d be no happy ending for me. This was it, and I’d long ago accepted my fate.
“I had a lady come in yesterday wearing neon green pants and a frilly yellow top with pink polka dots on it. So trust me when I say you look fine.”
I could have hugged the girl. “You have no idea how good you are for my self esteem.”
Giggling some more, she appraised me again. “What size are you?”
“A four.” At least, I hoped so. After all that ice cream last night, things could have drastically changed.
“Okay, well we’re in the wrong aisle.” She led me over three rows and paused in front of a rack of jeans. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“I’m starting at the high school tomorrow,” I confessed, chewing on the edge of my sleeve out of pure nervousness. Just thinking about tomorrow had my stomach seize up and my heart hammering in my chest. “And it’ll be the first time I don’t have to wear a uniform. So I need enough clothes to last me two semesters, I’d say.”
“Oh, you’ll be going to Fort Sangrey High? I go there, too,” she said, already digging through the pile of denim, disregarding the first few altogether. “Are you a senior?”
I nodded, taking two pairs of jeans she offloaded into my arms.
“Me too,” she said with a shy grin. “So maybe we’ll see each other. My name’s London, by the way.”
“Kaitlynn,” I said, letting her load me up with more stuff.
Just when my armful of possibilities was almost too high to see over, London steered me to a fitting room in the far back corner that was really only a sheet tied to a piece of railing over our heads. I balked at the entrance, unsure how I felt about stripping down in a public place without there being a lock on the door.
“It’s fine,” London assured me, hanging some of the items up on the railing. She pushed me gently inside. “It’s a Sunday, so you’ll be the only one in here for at least another half hour. And I’ll be standing right here because you have to show me what everything looks like. There’s a top in there I’ve been coveting like crazy but it doesn’t suit my build. I’m hoping it looks amazing on you.”
Deciding to trust the earnest girl in front of me, I stepped in and pulled the curtain shut around me. At least it was black, I thought, shimmying out of my Capris. And not see through. I worked my way into a pair of shredded jeans and a simple black top, both of which London approved of. Next was a purple cotton dress that hit me just above the knee. I wasn’t so sure of this one until London raced off down the store and returned with a pair of black leggings to pair it with.
Eleven outfits, two satchels, two pairs of boots, three pairs of sandals and a pair of sneakers later, London processed the sale and bagged everything up. My mind boggled over the total as I handed her Annabel’s credit card.
“Are you sure you added this right?” I asked, frowning at the bags cluttering her counter. I picked up a pair of denim shorts she was adamant only costed ten dollars because they were on sale.
“Of course,” she said, taking them from me and adding them to the bag in her hands. “My boss would have my ass if I was giving you a discount. Trust me, it’s all correct.”
It just seemed so cheap. This wouldn’t have quite bought me an entire outfit at Bergdorf’s in the city. Hell, the shoes alone probably would have cost more than what I’d just spent here. A lot of my most expensive clothes and accessories had been sold to go towards us moving.
Mom had put the money in an account for me to use as I wished. Which basically meant I’d been buying books since we moved here. Funny how I didn’t really miss the expensive brands. I surprised myself with how content I was to purchase non branded clothes from a thrift store.
“So, what else do you need for tomorrow?” London asked, tucking the docket into a bag and returning the card to me.
“Notebooks and pens, maybe a tag that says ‘Don’t stare at the new kid’.” I shrugged. “That’s about it.”
London giggled, shaking her head at me. “I can’t help you with the tag, but I can tell you the post shop is just around the corner. They should have everything you need, and they’re usually pre packed bundles so you don’t have to hunt for anything.”
“Thanks,” I said gratefully, picking up my purchases. I headed for the door.
“You’re welcome,” London called after me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kaitlynn.”
She had no idea how much I hoped so. After all it was a miracle I’d managed to bump into someone just before the start of school who happened to be in the same year as me. I was so desperate not to be alone on my first day that I mentally prayed London was in all of my classes.