Reality Check (14 page)

“A
CTION! Final scene!” the director yelled.

Charly inhaled. She'd done everything she was supposed to, and had done it well. She'd smiled the whole time. Performed for the cameras. Enjoyed designing and decorating Demy Davis's dream haven for the dogs she rescued from kill shelters. She worked well with the recipient of
The Extreme Dream Team
, and loved the like-minded girl's company so much she'd found a food sponsor that would feed Demy's rescue dogs for a year. Still, something was off. Charly nodded, still grinning like she'd won something, but inside she was livid. The camera followed her every move, a thing she would normally have loved and had dreamed about forever, but now she hated it because it felt as if it was suffocating her. What she needed now was time alone to process what Annison had done and what she knew the mega actress Lizzy was going to have to endure.

“Almost there, love,” Liam whispered to her through clenched teeth while they waved good-bye to the cameras, finally wrapping up the show.

“And that's a wrap!” the director sang, swirling his hand in the air.

“Great!” Charly said, the fake smile still plastered across her face even after the red recording light on top of the camera signaled they were done.

“So you're just going to stand here?” Liam asked, walking away. “We're done, you know?”

Charly gulped and tried to loosen up. “I'm going to do much more than that,” she said.

“This is for you, Charly. The itinerary, and there's a message for you there too,” a producer said, handing Charly a light blue piece of paper with the word
Memo
on top.

Charly gave it a quick glance, then folded it and put it in her back pocket. “Thanks. I'll get on whatever it is as soon as I can,” she said.

“I appreciate it. The way I was rushed, I'm under the impression it's kind of important.”

Charly smiled to appease the producer, but in reality she wasn't the happy girl her smile showed her to be. In fact, her shoulders tensed over the memo. Her father had threatened to come get her, and now she was sure Mr. Day wanted to talk to her about the kiss she and Liam shared—the kiss that really had nothing to do with Mr. Day or
The Extreme Dream Team
. She grimaced. It was all becoming too much—her dad, Mason, Stormy, being accused of being with Liam, Annison, and poor Lizzy being splashed across a tabloid—and Charly was getting tired of it. She wanted to bust. After she'd read the gossip magazine, she swallowed the information and didn't tell Liam what had happened. Instead, she'd flipped the magazine over. She didn't want to add to the messiness of Lizzy's situation or the probability that Annison was purposely destroying Lizzy's career. And it was killing her. She now needed to talk, but didn't know who she could trust. She was surrounded by actors, so how was she to know if the people around her were really her friends, or just acting like it, like Annison had done with Lizzy? She exhaled, then removed the memo from her pocket. She couldn't let a thing like words from her dad or Mr. Day make her nervous. She wasn't afraid of anything. Unfolding the blue memo sheet, she decided to deal with all the things that made her tense at once. Then she hated that she did. It was a message from Stormy sent through Lola's phone.

“Liam, when do we leave Miami?”
I need to go home to Illinois. ASAP.

Liam shrugged. “I don't know, but we're set to do Virginia Beach next. Why?” he asked, pulling out his phone to check his calendar. He touched a few spots on his touch screen. “I took a picture of the itinerary and saved it in my pictures. I just forwarded it to so you can save it in your cell. Now there's no excuses, love.” He winked.

“Thanks. I already got a copy from the producer, but I didn't look at it. And don't ask why.” Charly whipped out her phone, selected her favorites, and searched for Lola's name. Without looking up, she organized her next few days. “Liam, can you keep Marlow for me for a day or so? I have some urgent business that I need to sneak to Illinois to handle. And I can't let my dad or Mr. Day know what's up. Please?” she asked while she sent a text into the universe.

She received a response almost immediately.

The Illinois sidewalks felt different under her feet, Charly thought, walking with Lola toward her old home. She waved to a couple of neighbors, who'd strained their eyes hard enough to make her out in the dim light the streetlight provided and made it their business to tell her how glad they were to be her friend, even though before she'd been on television they'd never spoken to her a day in her life. Charly plastered on a fake smile and thanked them while she multitasked and called her mother's house again. She knew no one was going to answer because the number had been disconnected, but she had to try anyway. It wasn't unlike their mother to pay to get the service reconnected in a matter of hours after the phone was shut off.

“No luck,” she said as the few cracked cement steps that led to the house's walkway crunched under her feet. She looked at the plain-looking place she'd once called home, though it had never felt like it. Cars zoomed down the block, most having seen better days and others blasting music like they were equipped with club speakers. Charly shook her head. The state of the automobiles, people, and fractured sidewalks were telltale signs of what kind of place she'd been raised in, and she was thankful to be out. The town was boring for a teenager. The neighborhood was a little less than middle class, but livable. Her mother, Brigette, was the opposite of a caring, supportive parent. “Whatever.” She dismissed the bad things, then refocused on her sister. She ascended the porch stairs, pulled open the battered screen door, and saw there was a new lock on the door. “Guess that means using my key is out of the question,” she said, raising her brows in surprise. She wondered when the locks had been changed, then knocked on the hollow door.

“I told you, I haven't seen her,” Lola reported, two steps behind Charly. “I came by here earlier. No one came to the door, but I think someone was in the house. And every time I call her, I get voice mail, just like you. Sometime it rings, sometimes it just goes straight to voice mail.”

Charly nodded, ignoring the cell vibrating in her pocket. “It shouldn't be. I paid her bill months ahead with my first check.” The phone danced again, wiggling against her hip. She knew it had to be her dad or Mr. Day, who'd probably discovered that she'd caught the first thing flying to Chicago—or at least must've been suspicious about why she was missing. It could also be her aunt, who was expecting Charly when she returned from Miami. Charly walked down the porch stairs, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the yard that was barely visible in the darkness. “What made you think someone was here?”

Lola shrugged. “I could just tell. I didn't hear a TV or anything like that because the power is off, as you already know, but I knew. Just like I know Sully is a flake. Did I tell you that?”

Charly nodded. “You did. Three times before I made it out of the airport, four times while I was in the cab on the way over here,” she said, hoping Lola would take the hint that now wasn't a good time to talk about Sully or anything else besides finding Stormy.

“Did I tell you he has a girlfriend?”

Charly shook her head.
“Really?”
Her question was dry. “Can you tell me about it later, Lola? I need to concentrate.” She exhaled her frustration into the Illinois breeze and pressed her lips together in thought. If Stormy wasn't inside, Charly had no idea where she could be. Her sister was a nerdy loner who had no friends except Charly. “Got an idea.” She walked to the side of the house, waving her hand for Lola to follow, then rounded toward the back of the house, submerging herself in almost complete darkness. “If you can't find a way, make a way,” she whispered, then froze. Her phone was vibrating again. “Stop calling already,” she hissed.

“Just answer it,” Lola mumbled. “I don't see what the big deal is. Who can prove you're out of town, anyway? You didn't tell anyone,” she deadpanned. It was a statement, not a question.

“Just Liam. I had to have someone watch Marlow and cover for me. And before you say it, Lola, yes, I can trust him. Whoever it is—my dad or Mr. Day, I'll just tell them I'm having female problems and I'm in my room and don't want to be disturbed. There's not a man around who wants to hear that. And if it's my aunt, she should understand.” Charly laughed, carefully walking the few steps to the back porch. She pulled her phone from her pocket and touched the screen to make it light. Her eyes widened. It wasn't Mr. Day or her father calling. It was Mason. “Yes, Mason?” she answered, prepared for more attitude from him. She climbed the back porch stairs, pulled open the torn screen door, and tried the doorknob. Her eyebrows shot up toward heaven. The door wasn't locked.

“One sec,” she said to Mason, then used her phone as a flashlight, turning it toward Lola, who held up her thumb. “Go in. Go in!” Lola urged, her whisper low but clear.

Charly turned the knob all the way until she heard it click, then she pushed open the door. “Yes,” she mouthed.

A scream cut through the air. A stick cracked against her wrist. Lola's body was pressed against her back, trying to help her push all the way inside the house, then suddenly she was doing the opposite; her hands were on Charly, trying to pull her out of the doorway. “What in the—?” Lola yelled.

The person inside the house, who Charly assumed and hoped was Stormy, grabbed one of Charly's wrists with two hands, then began twisting her wrist as if trying to break it while kicking at her with one foot.

“Get out! Get out or I'm going to break your wrist,” Stormy said, then screamed again, loud and shrill.

Charly froze for a split second. “Stormy? Stormy, is that you? It's me. Charly!”

“Charly?” Stormy said.

I
t was a mess. What their excuse for a mother had done to Stormy was a certifiable disaster, and Charly was beyond peeved. Stormy was barely fourteen. How could Brigette just leave her? Charly wondered as she sat cross-legged, bopping her leg back and forth at a small table at her old workplace, Smax's BBQ. She was trying to curb her anger, answer the questions Stormy couldn't, and come up with a plan while Stormy and Lola ate like they hadn't had a meal in years. Charly grimaced. She could tell it had been a while since her little sister had had a decent meal because she refused to eat as much as usual at Lola's out of politeness, but Lola, she knew, was just plain greedy.

“Stormy, why did you just leave? Lola's mom always fusses. She doesn't mean anything. She's been fussing at me and Lola forever. You should've said something. Why didn't you?” she asked, knowing what her sister would say before she said it. Their mother had trained them both well, and the first thing she'd taught them was to keep their mouths shut. You never put your family's business or your feelings in the street.

“What was I supposed to say, Charly? And
why
would I say anything?” Stormy questioned. “Brigette leaves us alone all the time, so what was so different this time, besides you not being here?” She shrugged. “Plus, I can't find my phone. I brought it to the house with me, then it was gone. I took a nap, woke up, and poof. It was out of there. And Lola did a lot for me. I didn't want to keep intruding on them. And, even if I had my phone, I wouldn't have called you because you're on the road. And when haven't we been able to fend for ourselves?” Stormy looked at Lola and gave her a half smile. “No offense, Lola. I appreciate what you did.”

Charly shot Stormy a look. “Brigette must have it. She's the master of sneaking in and taking your stuff, then sneaking out. She used to do that to me all the time. Tell me why you left Lola's again. It doesn't make sense.”

“All right. All right.” Stormy rolled her eyes. “I didn't tell Lola I was leaving because I didn't want to bother you, and Lola would've told. We both know that Lola can't hold water,” Stormy continued, then turned to Lola. “I hope you don't take offense,” Stormy apologized, then turned back to Charly. “Plus, I wanted you to enjoy your dream, Charly. Not check on me every five minutes.”

Lola smiled. “No offense taken,” she said matter-of-factly.

Charly jumped in. “Okay. Okay. I get it. Are you sure you have no idea where Brigette is, Stormy? I still can't believe she left you,” she began, then remembered who they were discussing. She bopped her head. As irritated as she was, she couldn't help but groove to the crazy remix of Marvin Gaye, Parliament, and Sly and the Family Stone that blared from grease-laden speakers that were visibly wired to the stand in the corner where DJ the deejay spun real vinyl records. “On second thought, I take that back. Yes, I can. I can believe she left you. I just wish you had called me before you left Lola's. I was scared to death, Stormy.” She rapped her knuckles on the table, keeping time with the bass line. If her having an old soul was ever in question when she'd worked at Smax's, it wasn't in question anymore. She was definitely an old soul trapped in a young body, and current music didn't move her the way the classics did.

Stormy set her corn on the cob down on her plate, then pushed up her glasses on her nose with the side of her hand. She sucked her teeth in irritation. “I told you I couldn't, Charly.”

“That's right. Your phone's missing.”

“
Missing?
Yeah, right. You just said you believe Brigette has it, and so do I,” Lola interrupted, wiping barbecue sauce from the corners of her mouth. “That's why it rings sometimes, and other times it doesn't. She ignores our calls or sends them to voice mail or powers off the phone.”

Charly nodded, looking toward the door. Mason was supposed to meet her but hadn't shown yet. They'd been at Smax's for almost an hour, more than enough time for him to get there. She looked at her cell to see if he'd texted, but he hadn't. The last thing she needed was to worry about Mason while she was trying to figure out what to do about Stormy, she told herself, but she couldn't get him out of her head. He'd been so mad at her lately, and she hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, she could understand him not liking that Liam kissed her, but that wasn't her fault. She hadn't kissed him back, but she hadn't pulled away either. That had been Mason's argument, and she knew he had a point.

The bell over the restaurant entrance rang, pulling Charly's attention. A girl walked in, and Charly's heart dropped from disappointment. Where was he? She'd told him she had a problem, had given him as much information as she could in the few minutes she'd spoken to him, and he'd stood her up. Charly reached for her cell phone, throwing her ego to the wind, then sent him a text asking where he was.

“Charly?
Charly?
Is that you? You musta come in here when I was in the back with Smax. There's no other way I woulda missed you. Not my Charly! Heard you on television now, huh? Big star!” Rudy-Rudy-Double-Duty, the self-nicknamed double war vet who'd been patronizing Smax's since it opened its doors, winked, then smiled, diverting her attention from waiting on Mason to reply to her text.

Charly smiled, glad to see Rudy-Rudy. He'd been one of Charly's favorites when she lived in Illinois. “Hey, Rudy-Rudy! I missed you too!” Charly yelled from her seat, a genuine smile coming over her face and shedding a little brightness on her gloomy mood. “I'll be over there in a minute, okay?”

“Okay. Make sure too, because I need to know where ya been all my life. You know nobody can slice corn bread like you. And that's why I ain't had a piece since you left,” he teased while biting into a corn muffin, the only other bread Smax served besides dinner rolls.

“Charly, my dear? That
is
you, I was sitting in my car taking a call and thought I saw you, but wasn't sure,” Dr. Deveraux El said, walking in. “It certainly is good to see you. I see the moon and stars—Ursa Minor and Ursa Major—or one of them, obviously, served you well,” he said, looking like his usual dapper self. “As you see, I've been studying,” he pointed to the bar where his papers were spread out next to a globe. He pulled a compass out of his pocket, then a pencil.

Charly smiled big and wide. She apologized to Rudy-Rudy for making him wait, then stood up and walked over to Dr. Devereux El. She embraced him. “Thank you so much, Dr. Deveraux El. If it weren't for you, who knows where I'd be? I'd probably still be in the middle of nowhere or worse, like on the side of the road. You saved me. You and your moon-and-stars information—all this,” she said, pointing to his spread. “Yes, because of you, I became a little Harriet Tubman and used the stars to find my way to a gas station. My costar from the show was there,” she said, referring to the night the bus had broken down and accidentally left her and Marlow. Dr. Deveraux El had saved her life and her career, as far as she was concerned.

He patted her back. “Deveraux, Charly. Remember, just call me Deveraux.” Dr. El nodded, then picked up a cup of tea and held it up as if toasting her. His pinky finger was still in the air when she finally released him. “It was my pleasure and duty, Charly. We're all supposed to uplift others—help them find their way. I only gave you what your ancestors gave us, Charly. Light. And that light brought you home.” His words explained, but the brightness behind his eyes said he was proud and genuinely cared—something Charly was sure he'd never express verbally. Dr. Deveraux El was all intellect, and never personal.

Charly smiled and nodded. They'd gone through the same
Dr. Deveraux El
versus
Just call me Deveraux
at least twice a week when she'd worked at the restaurant. She'd always address him as Doctor and he'd always corrected her. If only Dr. Deveraux El hadn't had such a superior air, she would've called him by his first name. “Okay, sir. I mean Deveraux. Oh, by the way. I now know there are two constitutions. I've been studying,” she said with pride.

“Good for you, Charly. Now study the Magna Carta and Daughters of the Revolution. I think you'll be surprised.”

Charly smiled. “I will Dr. Deveraux. And my thanks to you again. If it weren't for you—”

He smiled, shushing her. “No. I have nothing to do with nature's laws or universal law, remember. You are what you were supposed to be. Now, if you want to thank me, learn about universal law—it's the only law there is.”

“Charly! Charly, gal. Is that you? I thought I heard your voice,” Smax, the owner, greeted as he strode through the double doors that led to the kitchen. “Bathsheba! Sheba, come out here. Charly's home!”

Charly looked at Smax and grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. After all the tension she'd had in a day, Smax was a sight for sore eyes. Barely four-eleven, he wore his gray hair in long finger waves, and his thick mustache was curled up and over at the ends like rams' horns. His smile was literally glowing: both his front teeth, spaced wide apart, were outlined by gold crowns with diamonds in the center. Today he wore lemon-yellow alligator shoes and a matching three-piece suit with a purple shirt underneath. Charly's eyes moved to the coat rack in the rear, and, sure enough, an equally bright banana-colored Dobbs hat hung there. Finger waves or no, Smax wouldn't be caught dead without a coordinating brim to match his outfit.

“Hey, Smax!” Charly greeted. “Sorry I didn't come straight to the back to say hello. I had some business to take care of first—including paying for our food,” she said, motioning her head toward Stormy and Lola. “You hired a nice girl to replace me too.”

Smax nodded, removing a custom-made gold toothpick from his mouth. He glanced at the clock, then at Charly. “Yeah, I guess.” He paused and looked around. “Wait a minute. Did you say
pay
? You paid for the food?” He shook his head. “You know you didn't have to do that, Charly. You're family, and you were always on time when you worked here. But that new girl? Now,
she
's always late.”

Charly put a hand on her hip. “Smax, remember you said the same thing about me!” She laughed.

“And me! He says the same thing about me, but I'm the one who wakes him up in the morning,” Bathsheba, Smax's common-law wife, boomed as she pushed her way through the double doors, then barreled her way over to Charly and embraced her in a bear hug, almost drowning her with her huge bosoms. “Charly. I missed you.” She pecked Charly on the cheek. “Now come on, tell Momma Bathsheba, why you really here? I know my Charly, so I know something ain't right. You didn't just bust through these doors without giving some type of notice first. Stars,” she said, pinching Charly's cheek as if she were a baby. “Meaning you don't just pop up, especially when you wanted to get away so badly.”

Smax nodded at Charly, winking twice. “Yessir, we know you, just like I know that big-head girl over there ain't gone never pay for her food or run outta room for my spareribs,” he said, sounding like he was joking, but he wasn't. Smax never joked about Lola and her eating, especially because she ate at his restaurant for free, due to rumors he was her real father.

Lola waved her hand at Smax, dismissing him while she bit into a saucy rib. Though chewing, she still managed to sneer at him. She pointed at Charly. “She paid.”

Smax sucked on his teeth as if he were about to spit, but instead stuck his gold toothpick in his mouth. “Here, baby,” he said to Bathsheba, pulling out a chair for her. “Sit next to these chillun so they can see what royalty feels like.” He winked. “You gone just stand there, Charly?”

Charly bent forward and put her palms on the table. She looked around to make sure no one could overhear them. “I'll just stand, if you don't mind,” she began, then told Bathsheba and Stax why she'd popped up in Illinois. She had to be there for her sister, just like Bathsheba and Stax had been there for her many times without even knowing it.

Bathsheba banged her fist on the table as Charly was finishing the story. “If I wasn't a woman of God, I'd kill her. How dare she do that to you chillun? Pretty young ladies like yo'self.”

“So she coming with us? Stormy, you coming with us,” Smax said.

Charly shook her head. “Nah, I gotta take her back with me, even if I gotta hide her until I can talk my dad into it. But I appreciate it.”

Smax shook his head, then gave Bathsheba a look. “Tell her something, Sheba.”

“What about school, Charly? How's Stormy supposed to go to school if you hiding her somewhere? School will be here again before you know it. Time goes fast, especially while you're on the road.” Bathsheba's eyebrows were high and her arms were crossed.

“Yes, Charly. We didn't think about that? I would have to be enrolled because I can't fail. Failures don't get scholarships. Just like you worked hard for your dream, I want to work hard for mine.” Stormy's point was made.

Charly stepped back and looked around. She nodded. Bathsheba was right; she'd wanted to get away so badly and had promised herself she'd never return, and now she was back. She realized she'd returned for more than just to find Stormy, when she took a second to look around. She was surrounded by almost everyone whom she loved and who loved her in return. Bathsheba and Smax had treated her like their own grandchild before she'd moved to New York and become a reality star. Dr. Deveraux El and Rudy-Rudy had been constants in her life, teaching her about stars, universes, and universal law and nations. And Lola, the only best friend she'd ever had besides her younger sister, was the first to give her a reality check. Charly brightened. She'd felt suffocated in the town, as if she had no room to grow and no stage for her dreams; but now she knew she had everything else in Illinois. Friendship. Love. Family. Yes, all the things that counted, she realized as the bell above the restaurant door rang, announcing a customer. Charly looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Make that friendship, love, family, and a
boyfriend
,” she mumbled to herself, then excused herself from Stormy and the rest so she could go talk to Mason. They needed to clear the air, and that couldn't happen in the middle of a crowd.