Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) (15 page)

Chapter 19.
Dylan

We drive back to my house, Everett, still wrapped up in a ratty old robe that must be his mother’s, sits between us. Barbie is pale and looks like she might pass out at any moment. Obviously still shaken about Everett.

We get back to the house where we are met by my family. Emmy runs out and hugs Everett, my mom kisses his small face and my dad ruffles up his hair.

“Oh, Evie, why did you run away? Did you not want to be at my birthday party?” Emmy squeezes him tight.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter, Emmy, it only matters that he is back and safe.” Mom pulls him into a tight hug; poor kid can’t even go and get a break without these two smothering him.

“He just needed some space.” I pry Emmy off him. “You guys are smothering the poor kid,” Emmy’s eyes well up.
Crap.

“He is my bestest friend, Dylan,” she shouts.

“Dylan!” my mom yells at me.

“I am sorry,” Everett signs to Emmy. We all still and stare at him. This is the first time he has ever spoken or signed to anyone. It is one simple word “sorry.” It is the loudest word any of us has ever heard.

“It’s okay, Evie, just remember what we said. Best friends.” Emmy wraps her pinkie around his.

Barbie falls to her knees, looking between her brother and my sister. “Emmy, has he spoken to you before?” Now her eyes swell.

“Yeah. I don’t always understand what the signs mean,” she says.

“How long? How long has he been talking to you, Emmy?” my mother asks.

“Forever.” She scrunches her face, annoyed by the question. “He is my best friend.”

My father breaks up the emotional breakdown my mother and Barbie are having. “All right, let’s give the poor kid a break. I believe we have a very large, pink cake that is waiting to be eaten in the kitchen.”

I sit at the table, stuffing another piece of cake into my mouth. Barbie sits across from me, swirling the icing with her finger and then sucking the pink frosting off her finger. I want to tell her that I know she has been sneaking out and I have been covering for her. Partly because I hope it will stop her from seeing that guy, even though I doubt it.

“So are you going out tonight?” I ask.

“No,” she says defensively.

“Oh, I thought that you might go out again tonight with that guy…Kai” I take another bite of my cake, it turns my stomach.

“I don’t see anyone when I leave.” she lies to me and I wish she wouldn’t. I wish she felt safe enough to be able to share the truth with me.

Chapter 20.
Barbie

My heartbeat thumps loudly in my chest as I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. I should not be nervous, I should be angry, but I am so damn nervous my teeth chatter together. Shit, they keep it cold in here. I glance around the room I am sitting in; a white, windowless cinder-blocked room. There is no escaping here.

The florescent lights flicker overhead while I finger the gold chain on my neck, my finger coming to rest on the music note that dangles from the chain. A loud, buzzing goes off and a lady on a static-filled speaker announces visitation begins in thirty minutes. I watch behind my bulletproof glass as women in orange jumpsuits walk past the window. One of the women stops and smiles at me before making a vulgar gesture with her mouth. My lip curls in disgust, showing her I am not amused. She laughs and continues to walk on. Then I see her and my chest constricts, tightening my heart, threatening to squeeze off my oxygen supply. I swore to myself I would never see her again. The last visit she could not give me what I wanted. Answers.

She smiles when she sees me. My mother was always thin, but she looks so fragile now. A harsh difference from how I remembered her. Her long, mousey brown hair hangs in greasy strings down her shoulders. The orange jumpsuit she wears swims on her. Her cheeks are hallowed out to match the dark purple circles that are around her eyes. Her shaking hand reaches for the black phone that is attached to the matching one on my end. I hesitate before picking it up.

“Baby doll. My sweet baby doll. I miss you.” Does she not remember the teary phone conversation we had last week? The one where I told her I hated her and never wanted to speak to her again.

“Momma,” I breathe into the phone.

“I love your hair. You were always so pretty. I was never as pretty as you growing up.” She smiles weakly and places her hand on the glass as if she could touch me through it. I want so badly to place my cheek in her hand, to get the comfort I need from her. “So tell me, how’s Everett doing? Is he here, too? I miss my baby boy so bad,” she rambles on.

“Momma, I went to the house. Mr. Finn is renting it out.” Her brows furrow for a moment as she process this turn of events. No more home, but we have been homeless before, sleeping from one of her coworker’s couches to one of her drug dealers.

She smiles. “Don’t worry, baby doll, we will get a new place. A better place. When I get out of here, maybe we can get one with a pool; you would like that, right? I know Evie would.”

“Momma,” I cut her off. I want to tell her there will be no apartment with a swimming pool. That she lost us for good. If I didn’t need answers, I wouldn’t be here. “Momma, when I was at the house, I found this.” I pull the yellowed postcard from my back pocket and press it up against the glass.

“Where-” She clutches at her neck.

“In the closet. I found it in the shoe box, Momma. I thought you said your momma ran out on you?” I keep the card pressed to the glass.

She hesitates before answering me, “She did. I was sixteen when I got that letter from her. It was full of broken promises. Promises she couldn’t keep.” Her eyes stay fixed on the postcard.

I take it off the glass and take out the picture of my grandmother and her out. “Momma, do you know where she is?” She shakes her head no. “I saw her that one night she was playing at the Wink Theatre. She sent me a ticket. I was so excited to see her, I thought… “ she trails off. “Why do you want to know about her, Barbie? She did nothing except turn her back on me.” How history repeats itself.

“Can you tell me where she is?”

“No. I don’t know where she is.” Her head hangs down for a moment. “Tell me about your new place; how do ya like it?”

A voice comes over the crackling speaker, announcing five more minutes until visiting time is up.

“Can you tell me anything about her?” I beg.

She shakes her head again. “There is nothing to tell, Barbie, why do you want to know about her all of a sudden?” she snaps.

“Can you tell me her name?” I try pleading again

“
One minute left.”

My mother stands with the phone still to her ear. “Will you come again next week?”

“Mom, please.”

“Will you come?” she asks, her brows knit together.

“Yes,” I sigh. No matter how much I hate her, I still need her.

###

“So how did you feel about seeing your mother the other day?” Mrs. White asks. She holds up a legal notepad so close to her nose that it is practically touching the pointy tip. There is no avoiding this conversation, as much as I want to; I also want to tell someone.

“Just peachy.” I smile at her.

“I figured as much,” is all she says, jotting down a few words. God, it is cold in here, she has the window unit on full blast and I am right in the current’s direction. It reminds me of the prison and I wonder if my mother has enough blankets to keep her warm at night. She was always so cold when she was at home. “How did she look? Did she change much?” Her words slice through my worrying. I close my eyes, remembering how small she was and the dark circles under her eyes.

I open my eyes and look at a very eager looking Mrs. White. “Like shit.” I close my eyes again.

Mrs. White sighs. “It figures.” God, can she say anything else. She thinks she knows it all. That she knows me or my mother.

“Your mother is still detoxing,” she offers me and I remember the way my mother’s hands shook and how she tried to hide them in the arms of her jump suit. I wonder who she will be once all the drugs and liquor are out of her system. Will I recognize her? Will she recognize herself? “She
has a long journey ahead of her. Addiction is a disease and it affects everyone who is involved.” She preaches to the choir with that one because I know that better than anyone, I am the poster child of drug addicted parents. “You do not have to go on that journey with her, you have a choice.” She says and I sit up looking at Mrs. White.

I swallow around the lump that is growing in my throat. Those words are nice and it is nice to think that I can choose to walk away from her and leave the ugly mess she created behind, however that’s the thing, words always sound nice. Saying and doing are two different things and, the truth is, I don’t think I really have a choice.

Chapter 21.
Dylan

I have been doing exactly what Barbie asked of me, I am leaving her alone, which is turning out to be harder than I thought, but I am trying to prove to her that I can do the right thing and be a standup guy.

“I don’t get why you are doing this,” Katie complains. I don’t explain again to her for the fifteenth time that I am doing this for the experience. That I need to learn more about lighting. Besides, Mrs. Berry offered me thirty bucks to take a picture of her cat.

“Are you going to complain the whole time or are you going to help me?” I ask her annoyed. Her bottom lip quivers like she is about to cry. I cannot take this girl much longer, she is driving me freaking insane.

“This has to do with Barbie, doesn’t it?” There is a shrillness to her voice.

“Yes, me taking pictures of Mrs. Berry cat has everything to do with Barbie,” I snap, shouldering the bag of lenses.

“Oh, Dylan. Good, you are here. Mr. Fitzgerald just finished up with his bath,” Mrs. Berry says from her front door, ending the fight between Katie and me prematurely.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Berry,” Katie says, smiling. God forbid anyone sees her as anything other than the perfect little southern bell she tries to portray, but I know the truth. The truth is, she is a self-conscious, insecure, spoiled brat. I know I am not helping with her insecurities with Barbie, either.

The other night, while Katie and I were watching a movie, I full on stared at Barbie as she skipped into the kitchen with Emmy and Everett. Emmy was making them play princes and dragons. Barbie was skipping around the kitchen in a green dress and a pair of green butterfly wings with green glitter smeared on her cheeks. She was barefoot and growling at Everett and Emmy who were hiding under the table. She was just so wild and beautiful. it was incredible seeing her smile like that, I couldn’t help but stare. Katie was so mad that she grabbed her purse and stormed out the front door. Before I chased after Katie, Barbie and my eyes locked for a few precious seconds. I coaxed Katie in with the lies that she is the only girl I care about.

“Wait until you see the outfit that I picked out for Mr. Fitzgerald.” Mrs. Berry claps her hands together. I stepped into the very doilied living room to find a very scrawny, very pissed off looking tabby cat. “Isn’t he the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Mrs. Berry scoops up the cat and begins to wrestle him into an over coat and top hat. “There you go, Mr. Fitzgerald. You look as handsome as the day is long.” She places the cat on a silk pillow and he jumps off in an attempt to remove the costume. “You see, I am entering Mr. Fitzgerald in the Mr. Kitty chow contest. He is very photogenic. Ah, shit. Katie, will you be a dear and help me catch him, sometimes the poor dear gets camera shy. Now, Dylan, you set up and we will go get him. Katie, come on, girl. He likes to hide under my bed and I am not gonna fit under there.”

After a few minutes Katie and Mrs. Berry return with a hissing Mr. Fitzgerald, Katie’s eyes are round and the size of saucers. She is also sporting a few fresh scratches on her arm. I zoom in on her holding him and snap a picture, checking the setting, plus it is pretty funny that Katie is looking so disheveled for once in her life, so much so that I have to capture the moment.

“Dylan, don’t take my picture. I am not ready,” she warns. I ignore her and zoom in on the cat and take another picture.

“Place him back on the pillow.” Mrs. Berry directs Katie.

After a few cat break-aways and seven costume changes, which included a historical civil war costume and pink tutu, we are back in my truck, headed into town. Katie is hungry and wants organic salad from Tiger Lily Café; even though it is on the complete opposite side of town everyone knows they are as organic as Mr. Fritzgareled likes having his picture taken. Katie is mad at me again. I sigh through my nose because I need to fix this, right?

“Are you going to stay pissed off at me?” I ask her as I turn onto Main Street.

“I just don’t understand. Why the sudden interest in photography?” She shifts so she is facing me and I have a flashback of Barbie sitting in that same spot, her bare feet posted up on my dash board. “Dylan?” Katie shakes me from the dream. “Why do you always do that?” She pouts.

“Do what?” I grip tightly onto the steering wheel.

“Get these far off looks and zone out. You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” Her lip quivers.

I park in front of the restaurant and cut off the engine. Do I lie or tell the truth? Lying is coming easy to me now and I am not sure I like who I am becoming. I am not sure I like who I am when I am with Katie. I am pretending to be someone I am not and it is so tiring. I lean my head back in my seat and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“What do you want to hear, Katie?”

“I want the truth, Dylan, and I deserve that. I have done nothing wrong and it is just not fair. I have been a good girlfriend.” Her voice cracks and she is right, she deserves the truth and it is not fair, me tugging her along because I think it appeases my mother and Barbie. It just makes me a douche bag. God, why do I let the women in my life dictate the decisions I make?

“I was in love with you for so long, at least, I thought I was in love, but it was the idea of you. I thought you were the perfect girl and you are, but…”

“But not for you, right?” Her voice is harsh, any weakness that was in it before is gone.

“Katie, I can’t help how I feel. If it was up to her, I would be with you and forget all about her, but I can’t.” I let the truth cleanse me and, even though I feel bad because I know I am hurting Katie, my heart is beating a little faster. What they say is accurate; the truth will set you free.

“You know what I can’t believe is that you are letting that whore ruin your life. Dylan, I am going to give you the chance to make this right. I know that girls like her can mess with your mind. I’ve seen her do it to Tyler.” I stiffen when she mentions Tyler. I know that Barbie used to mess around with him before me. I stay silent as she opens the door. “You are making a big mistake if you don’t come to anymore SAT prep meetings, too. She slams my truck door, shaking the cab.”The funny thing is, I really had no interest in retaking my SAT’s. I was happy with my score last year.” Her mouth drops open. “I was only doing it so you would stop bitching about it.” He face scrunched in anger. “I am going to pretend you just didn’t say that. Call me when you are ready to apologize.” She spins on her heels and storms away. I watch Katie storm down the street on her cell phone. I am sure I have just signed my own death certificate. It is going to be a long, upcoming school year because I am back in loserville.

###

“Mom, I need to talk to you.” I pull out the jug of milk and drink right from the carton.

She spins at me, waving a wooden spoon at me. “Boy, if you don’t get a glass, I swear… “ I duck out of the way from her spoon, grab a cup and pour the milk dangerously close to spilling over before hopping up on the counter.

“I broke up with Katie today.” Her hand stills over the chili she is stirring before she begins to slowly stir again.

“What happened?” She reaches for some chili powder, shaking it into the pot.

“Mom, don’t freak out.”

“I am not freaking.” She continues to shake the powder into the pot.

“Mom, I don’t love her.”

“Of course you don’t; you are only seventeen. What do you know about being in love?”

“Eighteen next month and I know enough to know that being with a girl I don’t love while I love another girl is wrong.” I hop down and walk over to her, trying to read her expression, but she has a great poker face. The only thing that gives her way is the pile of chili powder that sits on top of the red liquid.

“Who is this girl that you think you love?” I don’t answer because we both know who it is.

“Mom, I have always loved her. I tried to be with Katie because I thought it would make things easy and help you not worry as well as because that is what she wants.”

“Oh, Dylan.” She sets down the powder and turns to me, poker face gone and replaced with hurt. “Dylan, I cannot allow you two to be together, I am her guardian and-”

“I know, Mom. I am not going to act on any raging hormones I have. Besides, she doesn’t want to be with me.”

She sighs and pats my cheek. “Dylan, I see the way she looks at you, she… um… has feelings for you, even if she is trying to deny them. Dylan, I want you to be careful. She is battling something that neither you nor I could imagine.” I hug her, lifting her off her feet. “Have I told you, you are the coolest mom?”

“Yes, but it is always nice to hear again, and, Dylan, I am serious. As long as she lives under this roof, no dating.” I spin her in a circle and set her down.