Who's Your Daddy? (3 page)

SUBJECT: DUMB SUPPER, print and read!!!!!

TIME: 4:11:11
A.M.
, MST

*****CARESSA AND LILA, PRINT THIS EMAIL FOR FUTURE REFERENCE*****

Meryl’s Rules for the dumb supper

L&C—

I’ve read up on various dumb supper traditions, and I ended up incorporating a little of this and a little of that to make the ritual personalized for US.
First, Lila, I think it’s so special that you’re willing to have your mother as our “spirit guest.” I’m glad it didn’t freak you
out that we needed to invite someone who’d passed on.

Here is what I need each of you to bring: Lila—white gel pens and black notecards are VERY important. Also, please buy the following items at the party store:

1. black paper plates

2. black napkins

3. black plastic forks, spoons, knives

4. black tablecloth

5. black fabric (to shroud the “spirit chair” for your mom)

6. black cups

7. black and white votive candles (lots of black, one white)

8. black serving bowls

You’ll note the theme: BLACK. Holler if you have trouble finding any of this, and I’ll help.

Caressa, you’re already donating your house (along with stuff like lighters, etc.), but I’m going to make you in charge of getting the food together. The nine food items we decided on for our feast, in backward order, are:

1. Sara Lee cheesecake (dessert)

2. Turtle brownies (dessert)

3. Cheeze Whiz (cheese course)

4. Potato chips (side dish)

5. Rotisserie chicken (main course)

6. Celery with peanut butter (salad course)

7. Cup-a-Soup (soup course)

8. Taquitos (appetizer)

9. Fresca (beverage)

All of these items are available at Safeway, but you probably knew that.

As for me, I’m going to bring the ritual items we need, like sage sticks to purify the room and our chosen divination tools:

Lila: black scrying mirror

Caressa: brass singing bowl

Me: rosaline crystal ball

Here’s how the night will unfold:

Lila, I’ll pick you up. When we get to Caressa’s, we’ll prepare the food, and I’ll purify the feast room with sage sticks. We will also write our prayer/wishes on the black notecards. These prayer/wishes should have something to do with the guys we each hope to find.

At EXACTLY midnight, we will all enter the feast room and set our prayer/wish cards at our designated
places. After that, Caressa and I will begin carrying items in to set up the table. Remember, ABSOLUTELY NO TALKING, LAUGHING, ETC. in the feast room. Caressa, you and I have to carry each item in together, with your hand on one side and mine on the other. It will take a while, but we can make it go faster if we plan it all out beforehand, maybe even rehearse. Here’s the order:

1. Tablecloth

2. Candles

3. Spirit chair shroud

4. Plates

5. Napkins

6. Silverware

7. Cups

8. Food items, in order

Once all the food is on the table, Caressa and I will enter the feast room backward and sit in the chairs backward. Lila, you’ll come in backward and lay your hands on the back of the spirit chair. Welcome your mother’s spirit (SILENTLY!) to our supper. Light the white votive candle and place it on the plate in front of her chair, then light one black votive candle for each of us and place them, one by one, on the plates in front of
us. Take a seat backward on your chair, Lila, and then we’ll eat. Dessert to appetizers, the way it should be in REAL LIFE.

YUM!

At the end of the meal, we will, one by one, pull our prayer/wishes out from under our plates, and we’ll burn them with our black votive candles.

The prediction part goes like this: whichever guy each of us sees FIRST at the end of this ritual will be the guy we’re supposed to date. What fun, huh?????? Junior prom, here we come! Let me know if you have any questions.

L&K, Meryl

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

SUBJECT: re: DUMB SUPPER, print and read!!!!!

TIME: 6:29:33
A.M.
, MST

Mer:

A) What are you doing up at four in the morning??????

B) Are you sure I can get black stuff at the party
store? Won’t it have something written on it like, “Over the Hill,” or something? If it does say “Over the Hill” or “Happy Halloween,” is it still okay?

C) I did think it was slightly creepazoid at first that we had to invite a dead relative, but I got to thinking it will be pretty cool having my mom “participate” in finding me a boyfriend. I’m sure she would’ve given me help/advice if she was still here. So, no worries. I’m not freaked.

D) The menu sounds great!

E) I CAN’T WAIT FOR NEXT TUESDAY!!!!! I agree, junior prom, HERE WE COME!

—Lila

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

SUBJECT: re: DUMB SUPPER, print and read!!!!!

TIME: 7:37:03
A.M.
, MST

Lila:

To answer your questions and comment on your comments:

A) I couldn’t sleep—excited!

B) Yes, you can find black stuff at the party store. NO, it won’t all have “Over the Hill” or “Happy Halloween” on it, and don’t buy it if it does.

C) I’m glad re: your mom. It really was our only choice, since neither Caressa nor I have lost anyone we love, so it’s good you’re okay with it. I think it’s really nice to have your mom there, too. In spirit.

D) The food does sound yummy! We should be chefs.

E) Me neither!

L&K,

Meryl

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

SUBJECT: re: DUMB SUPPER, print and read!!!!!

TIME: 7:45:47
A.M.
, MST

Meryl and Lila—

This sounds like SO MUCH FUN! I told my parents we were studying old English customs for school, and they not only bought it, they agreed to go into Denver, see a show, and stay in a hotel so we can have “an authentic
experience” without interruption. I felt guilty for the LWL at first, then I realized we really ARE studying old English customs, and although it’s not EXACTLY for school, it is to find boyfriends. Boyfriends are at school, boyfriends will make going to school BETTER, so by a few degrees of separation, we are studying old English customs for school.

Poof, guilt gone.

I will do my shopping ASAP. Lila, since you don’t have a car or a license (NO OFFENSE—HUGS!!), and you’re grounded, you can give me your list and $$$ if you want and I’ll shop for you. Let me know. Tuesday can’t come soon enough for me! I really feel like we’ll all have dates to the Junior Prom!

—Love, C

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

SUBJECT: re: DUMB SUPPER, print and read!!!!!

TIME: 8:40:02
A.M.
, MST

At 7:45:47
A.M.
, MST, [[email protected]] wrote:

Lila, since you don’t have a car or a license (NO OFFENSE—HUGS!!), and you’re grounded, you can give me your list and $$$ if you want and I’ll shop for you. Let me know.

UGH, that was HARSH-O-RAMA, Caressa!
But yes, I’ll give you my money and you can hook me up. Thanks.

—Carless Lila, living in hell

“No way.”

I gaped at my father, bug-eyed with horror, mouth hanging open, so totally NOT believing what I was hearing. This arbitrary decision of his could very well ruin my life!
Why
couldn’t he remember way, way, way back to when he was my age and, just this once, show a little compassion for my plight? I know Grandma and Grandpa Moreno snapped a big ol’ knot in his butt on a regular basis when he was a teenager, but he seemed to be suffering from some sort of parental amnesia that completely wiped out that memory.

I was halfway convinced that parents got secret monetary kickbacks from the government for conveniently forgetting how it was to be a teenager and making
their own kids’ lives hell, perpetuating some big, ugly cycle. I can tell you, when I have kids someday, I won’t put them through this trauma. But, hey, I might NEVER have kids. I attended health class, just like every other girl at WPHS, and I’m pretty clear about the fact that, in order for one to eventually get to the point of GIVING BIRTH, one must first come into CONTACT with the opposite sex. I hadn’t even reached step one. And now it looked like I might not.

“W-what do you mean, no way?” I sputtered to my father at last. My throat tightened as I fought to hold back the full-on rant that wanted to erupt. As a result, my voice came out sounding like Minnie Mouse if she were choking on a Jolly Rancher. “You said I was allowed to study with the girls,” I squeaked. “We’re going to be studying.”

“Study in the evening and plan accordingly so you can come home when you’re done.”

“But—”

“Lila.” He dipped his chin in that annoying way that made me feel like I was being charged with a crime and had about an ice cube’s chance in hell of getting off by reason of insanity (or any other reason). “I know you operate under the assumption that I was born yesterday,
my dear daughter, but no one studies at midnight.”

He had a point. I hadn’t thought that through. And I hated when he called me “my dear daughter,” because it always meant he was on to me. He never called my brothers “my dear sons.”

“Not to mention, you’re grounded,” he added unnecessarily.

“But—”

“Which means, no overnights. And no manipulating me to get out of your punishment this time.”

Dangit. He left me without grounds for an argument. I
did
have a reputation for trying to, shall we say, finesse my way out of consequences, but hey, I was good at it. All that aside, the burning question remained: how could I miss the dumb supper? It was the one and only event, other than the prospect of moving away from White Peaks forEVER, that gave me hope for the future.

“B-but, Dad—” I couldn’t think of a good angle with which to state my case, so I resorted to stomping my foot and regressing to fifth grade. “It’s not fair!”

“
Callat
é.”

Uh-oh. He only ordered me to shut my trap
in Spanish
when I’d pushed him to the very edge of his
patience. I pressed my lips together but continued to scowl. My chest rose and fell with fury. It flooded through my veins like liquid fire, causing my body temperature to spike. “But—”

“But,
nada
.” Dad’s face hardened in that all-too-familiar stubborn-cop way. His voice got meaner, too. “Lila Jane Moreno, read my lips. You are not staying over at Caressa’s on homecoming night. Now, drop it.” His hand sliced out to the side, palm down. “I had a long day at work and I want a little peace and quiet.”

I rolled my eyes so hard, my contact lens curled up on the edge. Oh, sure. HIS heinous day mattered, but my entire awful existence didn’t. I knew it was useless to argue, so instead I whirled in my stocking feet, planning on a dramatic, Oscar-worthy exit at the very LEAST. Instead, I crashed facefirst into my brother’s chest, smashing my nose to the side hard enough to make my eyes water.

“Shut your hole,” I snapped, grabbing onto my nose in case it started spurting blood.

He spread his arms. “I didn’t say anything, hormone queen!”

I shoved him aside as my eyes watered harder. “Shut it anyway!”

“Lila,” I heard my dad call out, “don’t say ‘shut your hole.’ It’s vulgar.”

“Oh, yeah!” I hollered, spinning to face them. “But he can call me hormone queen! That’s gender harassment! I’m a persecuted minority in this family! I’m calling the ACLU or … or the Lifetime Channel, or something!”

“Lila, I mean it. I’ve had enough.”

“Bite me,” I whispered under my breath as I stomped away, immediately feeling a stab of guilt for having said it. Sure, I was cranked off at my dad for this latest bout of persecution, but as fathers went, USUALLY he was an okay guy. Still. I had every right to be angry. My life kept getting worse, no matter how hard I struggled to make it better.