Everything (13 page)

“It’s a classic, trust me,” Mom winked, grabbing her purse. “I have to take off for work. The ingredients you’ll need are on the back. Call me if you need me.” She kissed her hand and blew us a kiss, then waved to us both on her way out.
 

I looked at the ingredients. Apart from piecrust and chicken, I was pretty sure Aunt Opal had most of this stuff and it would take about forty-five minutes to cook but about an hour in the kitchen for prep.

“I’m going to leave before Dad wakes up.” I stood to leave just as Wally came out of my parents’ bedroom, dressed in his uniform ready for work.

“Morning, Dad.” Aria bounced over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning, baby girl,” he said, leaning into the kiss.

“What are you doing here?” He eyed me.

“I came to talk to Mom and to see if Aria can come to Opal’s for dinner tonight.”

He gave me a sour look. “I’m sure Aria has homework or something better to do than go to that woman’s house for dinner.” He looked at Aria pointedly. We all knew how he felt about Opal.

She looked at him evenly. “No, Daddy, I don’t. Besides, Dacey needs my help cooking, so I’m going.”

“You cook?” He turned a stunned eye toward me.

“Mom gave me a recipe,” I said, skirting the original question.

“Don’t screw it up,” he barked out.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad,” I muttered, making my way toward the door.

“She’s going to
rock
that recipe, Dad. Want me to bring you back some?” she asked hopefully. She was always trying.

“No thanks,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“Well, I’m headed out. I’ll see you later, A. Bye, Dad.” I waved to them both and left.
 

I didn’t expect Wally to remember that I was the one to cook for myself when he knew I was old enough to. At first it was microwaveable things like hot dogs and macaroni, but then I graduated to spaghetti and meatballs and other minor things. By the time Mom came along, she assumed the pots and pans were burnt and destroyed due to Wally’s disastrous cooking. He wasn’t a bad father, just to me.

It was still a little early, so I decided to head to the campus bookstore, as they sold the best giant blueberry muffins there.

“You must live here,” I said by way of greeting Riley, who was behind the counter arranging the muffins in a pyramid.

“It feels like it.” He smiled as he was closing the glass case on the display.

“No, don’t do that. I want one of those muffins. Blueberry, please.”

“As you wish,” he answered, bowing at the waist.

“And when you’re done, Cinderfella, clean off the counters and mop the floors,” I smirked at him.

“Did you just call me Cinder
fella
?” He asked as he got my order.

“I did,” I said, taking my muffin from him.

“Thank you?” He turned his head to the side as if he was testing the word out.

“Well, I could have called you Cinderella, but you’re not a girl. Unless...” I trailed off and raised my eyebrow at him.

“I’ll take Cinder
fella
,” he said sarcastically.

I chuckled under my breath, taking a bite of my muffin.

“Did you offer your sister my help on
The Frost
?”

“I did. She said that would be great.” I swallowed loudly. “But it can’t be tonight. We have plans.”

“It has to be in the next three days. Auditions are then.”

“Well, I don’t have anything planned for her tomorrow night, but you might want to ask her.”

“What, you’re not her event planner?” he joked. “I thought you two were joined at the hip.”

“Usually, but as of late, no. I’ll text her your number, and you guys can get together.” I pulled out my cellphone and shot her a quick text with Riley’s phone number. His phone buzzed in his pocket fifteen seconds later, and he pulled it out and smiled.

“Man, she is quick.” He showed me the “When can we meet, Ri-Ri?” text from Aria.

“A teenager who is quick on a phone, who knew?” I feigned shock.

“You got me,” he said, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “So what’s on the agenda tonight for the sisters?”

“We have a family dinner with my aunt,” I said vapidly, when it was anything but.
 

“Cool. I’d like to hang with your aunt. I bet she has some great stories.” He had a look of longing in his eyes.

“Okay?” I laughed out. “That’s not something I hear people say.”

“Hey, she has lived in this town a very long time. I’m sure she has great stories she could tell about the history of it and the people of the town,” he said, getting defensive.

“Oh, she has stories all right.” I continued to laugh. “My aunt once told me that the TV was talking to her, so she got rid of all her TVs in her house. Are those the kinds of stories you want?”

“Okay, well, not
those
stories,” he relented. “But I’m sure if you just asked her, she could tell you a good piece of history.”

“Yeah, but would it be true?” I challenged.

He studied me before his next question. “Do you...do you ever ask her about your mom?”

I let his question sink in before replying. Opal had always been Opal, the town crazy. But she was sane before she started losing her memory and being confused, and she would tell me about my mother in spurts. We would be in the backyard or around town, and she would say that something I did reminded her of my mother or that my eyes had the same sparkle as hers. Ever since her confusion took over, however, she has not mentioned my mother other than to mistake me for her.

“She used to tell me about her, but now not so much,” I shrugged.

“I wish I had someone to tell me about my dad,” he shrugged.

“Riley, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound indifferent.” Riley’s father had left his mom when he found out she was pregnant. He didn’t even know what his dad looked like. Riley was always trying to find him, which is why he wanted to talk to Opal, I assume.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel any kind of way about it.” He smiled.

“You can hang out with us next week,” I offered. “She likes to entertain,” I added.
 

This seemed to make him feel better, as he said, “Sure, text me.” He went over to help another customer, leaving me by myself.

 
I finished my muffin, halfheartedly. I did feel bad. Ever since I had known Riley, he had been on this mission to find the man who abandoned his mother. I’m not sure if it was to give him piece of his mind or to just find his father. He would never say why. It was the only time I really saw a glimpse into Riley’s home life. Clearing my head, I took out my phone and texted Tina to let her know I was having dinner with Opal and her special friend tonight. She sent me back a text with the icon of a shocked face and “Dios Mio.” I smiled wide and texted her back telling her about this morning and asking her to talk to her dad again about those neurologists. She texted back saying she would tonight and let me know.

I was putting my phone away when another text came in from her, asking if me and Trevor—or, in her words, “The Lump”—made up.
There was no use in pretending I didn’t know what she was talking about, so I told her yes and I didn’t want to talk about, to which she sent back a foreboding “later.”

I put away my phone and made my way across campus to my creative writing class. Professor Harris had come to know us by faces now, but I suspected he always knew mine since the first day. He nodded to me as I slipped into my seat right before the start of class. Halfway through class, my phone buzzed with a text from Aria asking me if she could make brownies, this from the girl who burnt water. I reminded her of that and she pointed out that she can read and follow directions, so I conceded and told her she could.

I put my phone away and rolled my eyes, hoping this didn’t turn out badly.

The day went on, and a quarter after five, I met Aria by my car, where she was with some friends talking animatedly.

“...So he was all and that’s how the butterfly got stuck up my butt,” she finished, and the group erupted into laughter.

“Do I even want to know?” I asked skeptically.

“It worked!” she yelled, jumping up and down.

“You have to tell the professor tomorrow. He may use your line in his next play,” said some tall guy leaning against my car. I looked at him with a “do you mind?” stare and he got up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” I turned to Aria.

“In class today, we talked about if you are in a group and someone walks up, how to make that person feel uncomfortable,” she explained. “Well, I thought of making up a ridiculous end of a conversation that a person walks in on and has no idea what was said, but clearly it was weird,” she finished proudly.

“So there was no rest of the story?” I asked, catching on.

“Nope!” she said, laughing hard.

“But why would you want to make someone uncomfortable?” I asked, baffled.

“It was just an acting experiment, to see if you could pull off that emotion.”

“Ahh.” I nodded my head. “Well, it worked.”

“Your sister’s got some talent,” another blonde-headed girl about my age said, impressed.

“I tell her that too.”

Aria actually blushed.

The group said their good-byes and dispersed. I followed Aria home to drop off her car, and we headed to the store to pick up what we needed for tonight’s dinner. She also stopped in the cake aisle and picked up a box of brownies, assuring me they would be epically amazing.

We pulled up to Opal’s house a short while later, and Aria cocked an eyebrow at the sign still tacked up on the kitchen side door.

“Don’t ask,” I grumbled.

“Oh, I will, but later,” she grinned.

Opal opened the door, looking more frazzled than I had ever seen her, with Rufus barking at her heels.

“Come on, come on,” she ushered us in hurriedly.

“Auntie, where’s the fire?” Aria giggled, bending down to pet Rufus.

“I’m ’bout to light it unda y’all. What took y’all so long?” she threatened emptily as she pushed us into the kitchen.

“We had to get the ingredients for dinner, Auntie.” I started to take the things out of the bags and place them on the counter.

“What kinda ingredients?” She eyed the contents on the counter suspiciously.

“Don’t worry about it, Auntie. Just go and get ready.” I pushed her toward the stairs.

“Well, hurry it up. He’ll be here at seven thirty sharp an’ he’s nothin’ if not punctual.” She gave a warning eye to both of us before heading up the stairs.

Aria giggled again. “Oh my god, it’s like she’s sixteen and on her fist date. It’s kind of cute.”

“It kind of is.”

We set about preparing dinner, and Mom’s recipe was actually pretty easy to follow. I had Aria chop the carrots and chicken, while I chopped the celery and prepared the piecrust and rice. Aria was just starting to make her brownies when we heard a panicked cry from upstairs.

“CHILE, GET UP HER’!” She even woke up Rufus from his spot on the floor by the door.

I shot Aria a glance and scrambled up the stairs two at a time with Aria on my heels. I found Opal in her bathroom with rollers sprawled on the countertop and floor, along with a blow dryer on the floor at her feet.

“I don’t know how to make my hair do right,” she screeched and looked at me, panicked.

“Oh! Auntie,” I said, clutching my hand to my chest and catching my breath. “Don’t scream like that. You scared me!”

“Well don’ jus’ stand there with your mouth all open.” She gestured for me to help her.

Aria had come up behind me and was trying and failing not to laugh at the scene in front of her.

“So cute,” she said between chuckles.

“Whatcha on about ova there, lil’ chile?” she directed at Aria.

“Oh, nothing, Auntie,” she said, stifling a laugh. “I’m going to finish my brownies.” She headed back downstairs, seeing there was no real emergency and she was not needed.

“Don’t burn the brownies!” I called as I headed into the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” She waved her hand over her head airily as she headed downstairs.

I turned back to Opal and tried to see what she wanted me to do exactly. When I asked her, she replied simply, “Make me up, chile!”

I rolled my eyes. Of course, make her up. I began to take the rollers out and got a big round bristle brush from the drawer and the blow dryer and went to work. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew how she wore her shoulder-length silver hair every day, so I just went for that.

When I was done, she took one look in the mirror and turned her head to one side, then the other, and said, “Okay.” Then pushed me out and closed the door in my face to finish getting ready.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered as I went back down to the kitchen to check on dinner, as it should be ready now. When I walked into kitchen, Aria had just taken out the potpie and was putting in her brownies.

“Did you change the oven temperature to what the brownies need to be at instead of the potpie?” I cautioned.

“No? Was I supposed to?” She paused.

“Didn’t you read the box?” I went over to retrieve it from the trash can to see what the oven setting was supposed to be on.

“Of course I did,
Mom
.
Gosh!” She placed the brownies on the center rack and closed the lid. “I read the box. I was just messing with you. Look at you digging in the trash. Eww.”

“Hey, these are brownies you’re talking about.” I threw the box at her, and she ducked out of the way, laughing. Just then the doorbell rang, and we both froze.

“This is so exciting,” Aria exclaimed.

“Why are you so excited? He’s not here for you.”

“’Cause it’s cute.”

“There’s that word again. Go get Auntie while I get the door,” I instructed.

“’Kay!” She bounded up the stairs happily.

I went to the front door and opened it to find Mr. Davis with a bouquet of flowers, looking like he was about to face a firing squad.

“Hi, Mr. Davis. Come in.” I moved aside to let him in.

“Hello, Dacey—and thank you.” He bent down to pet Rufus, who had come to see who was at the door. “Hey, buddy. You feeling okay today?”