Escape, Page 4

  Chapter 4

  “Rise and shine, Miss Philips,” a gentle voice chirps. My eyes open and the scent of bacon makes my tummy rumble. Amy stands to the side of the bed with her hand tugging at a drape. The smell of food stops me from screaming at her for waking me up.

  “What time is it?” I yawn as I sit up.

  “Eight O’clock,” she answers. Four more hours before going to grandmothers dreaded event. How lovely. I slowly get out of bed and walk over to the table that holds my food. It’s a small rectangular table made for two. I sit at one end and stare at the food: fried eggs, chocolate chip pancakes, sausage, bacon, and strawberries with whipped cream. They give me a small portion of each. The pancakes are the size of my fist. I’m use to the huge ones mom makes. As I bite into a sausage link, Amy clears her throat.

  “What do you plan on wearing to the party?” she asks.

  “A sundress and flip-flops,” I reply around a mouth full of eggs. Moments later, the scraping sound of hangers being moved fills the air.

  “This will work,” Amy says pulling out a designer sundress, sparkly flip-flops, and a one piece. I glare at her.

  “How?”

  “Your grandmother ordered Sandra to go shopping for you. Wasn’t that nice of her?” She’s embarrassed by me and my common clothes. Just for that, I’m tempted to slip into the sundress I bought from Target last spring. But something in Amy’s look tells me not to rebel. No, that’s a lie. The other girls at the country club will be dressing in designer wear. If I don’t, people will laugh at me. The thought makes me sick. What a stupid thought. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me. Not anymore. So what if a bunch of rich people laugh at my clothes? Who are they to me?

  “Who’s Sandra?” I ask, just to distract myself from thinking.

  “She’s another maid here. She handles Mrs. Philips’ errands and whatever else she needs,” Amy replies.

  “Who’s helping Tia get ready?” This woman really needs to leave. I’m not getting dressed in front of her.

  “Tia isn’t going,” Amy says with genuine spite. For a moment, her face is filled with disgust. But then that million dollar smile is put back into place. Something isn’t right about this situation. Tia is Grandmother’s favorite. Why isn’t she coming with?

  “Why not?” Amy shakes her head.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” is the only explanation she gives before taking off.

  The country club is about ten minutes from the mansion. The grounds are extensive with a golf course, a swimming area, and a track. Three brick buildings adorn the lush land... All of which are surrounded by potted plants. Otis refuses valet parking and parks in a parking garage and offers Grandmother his arm. We slowly make our way to the dining hall. Then we enter what looks like a fancy dimly lit restaurant.

  Old women and their granddaughters sit at tables covered with satin cloths. Candles and red roses make up the centerpieces. Everyone stares at grandmother as if they are surprised she’s here. I look at her, but Grandmother Betty ignores them and Otis directs us to a table in the back. He pulls out Grandmother's chair and she sits. He doesn’t bother doing the same for me. He just takes off. I glare at his back and sit down. Immediately, a waiter dressed in slacks appears and hands us menus. The man is unobtrusive and doesn’t do more than ask us for our drink orders. Grandmother asks for ginger tea while I ask for chocolate milk. Grandmother snickers at my choice in beverage.

  “For a girl that skinny, you sure eat really unhealthy,” she comments. In this environment, she is more approachable. I'm just thankful that she isn't being an ice queen.

  “This is a very stressful situation. I need chocolate,” I explain.

  “I thought that you like popcorn.”

  “Smart Food,” I correct.

  “Smart food,” she slowly says.

  “I do. But you can’t drink Smart Food Grandma, so I settle for second best,” I reason. She laughs. The sound is gentle and rich. I’m unsure of how to react to it. Part of me wants to continue disliking her. That woman did mess with my parents. But the other part is telling me just to enjoy the moment. Why not? She brought you to an expensive country club for a reason. Just relax and have a good time.

  “How did you sleep last night?” she asks. How did I sleep? The confusion fills my eyes for a moment. But then I remember that people are most likely eavesdropping. I refuse to be the one who gives her an attitude. That will just make everyone think that the kind and gentle Grandma Betty is a victim.

  “Great. The bed is nice and soft,” I admit, wishing I was laying in the oversized mattress. She looks like she wants to say more but the waiter comes with our drinks. The man asks us what we want as an appetizer. Grandmother asks for tomato soup, without reading the menu, I ask for mozzarella sticks. The waiter, who looks to be in his early twenties, smiles and walks off.

  “Betty,” an older woman with chocolate brown skin, striking blue eyes, and a short bob greets as she sits down. Her reluctant granddaughter, who has an hour glass figure, sits beside me and her mood brightens when she realizes I’m a complete stranger. She must hate one of the guests that Grandmother brings with her.

  “Hi, I’m Olivia!” she exclaims.

  “I’m Chelsea,” I say, shooting her a wide smile.

  “Denise,” Grandmother says with warm affection in her face. She actually looks pretty when she smiles. The same waiter returns and the pair both order mango juice and begin with tomato soup.

  “Where’s Tia?” Olivia cautiously inquires.

  “In the bathroom,” I respond, just because I can’t help it. Olivia’s face falls, and I snicker.

  “You’re lying,” she accuses.

  “Yup,” I say as the food comes. Everyone at the table stares at my food and Olivia steals a mozzarella stick.

  “I didn’t know that they have those here,” she says. The rest of the lunch isn’t awful. We laugh and grandmother forces me to eat a salad, and rice, which isn’t so bad. The dessert is rice pudding, which is horrible. Olivia gladly eats my dessert. After the plates are cleared away, a tall, skinny, brunette that looks like she had one too many face lifts walks over to us. She strikes a pose and blows us kisses. I already hate her.

  “Betty,” the woman purrs.

  “Gladys,” Grandmother Betty says, with steel in her voice. The woman puts her hands on her hips and glowers at us.

  “It’s nice to see you up and about Betty.” Everyone is quiet. Olivia looks as though she wants the world to swallow her. My guess, Gladys is a ghost from Grandmother’s past.

  “What brings you here Gladys? From what I understand, you don’t have any grandchildren,” Grandmother Betty says.

  “I sure do. Chelsea is after all half mine.” My mouth opens as the woman kisses me on the cheek. I stare at Grandmother in confusion.

  “She isn’t related to me,” I argue lamely. Grandmother stands as Otis appears.

  “Chelsea, let’s go,” Grandmother Betty orders. I shake my head, not wanting miss plastic to win. But Olivia elbows me so I obey. We stand and make our way to the door, everyone staring at us as we exit. As soon as the restaurant doors shut behind us, she exhales in relief.

  “She’s Vince’s ex-wife,” are the first words Grandmother says as we climb into the limo.

  “Why did we leave?” I ask.

  “Angelica, Gladys, Hailee Bell, Brittney, Ashley, or whatever she’s calling herself these days, likes to make a scene. It was best to leave,” Grandmother responds.

  “Why is she so bitter?” That’s what I ask but what I really want to ask is, why is she so ugly?

  “Vince left her twenty-five years ago. She hasn’t recovered,” Grandmother Betty says.

  “Why am I half hers?” I ask.

  “You aren’t any hers. So don’t listen to the crazy woman,” she instructs.

  “I like Olivia a whole lot,” I admit. The woman smiles.

  “Denise has been my best friend for forty-seven years. I’m glad to hear
you and Olivia get along.

  “How many more events do we have to go to?” Grandmother looks weary as she responds.

  “A gardening competition and a dinner. But we don’t have to go to either of those. You only agreed to the lunch.”

  “I’ll go if you want.” She looks as though what she really needs is a nap. She sighs.

  “Knowing that Gladys is most likely going to show up makes me not want to come,” Grandmother admits. “I am too old to deal with the scenes that she likes to make.”

  “Why not get her banned from the place?” The woman laughs.

  “She isn’t exactly disturbing the peace by saying hi. She isn’t harming me physically. I have no grounds to get her banned from the club,” she explains.

  “Couldn’t you pay to get rid of her?” I ask.

  “I could if I wanted all of my friends to know I’m the kind of woman that would do such a thing. Chelsea, don’t worry about such things. You’ll most likely not see Gladys ever again,” Grandmother says. Her cranky side is back. I sigh and watch as the mansion appears.

  On Sunday, Amy wakes me up at 7 in the morning for church. I eat a chocolate chip muffin and a banana and drink a tall glass of cold milk for breakfast. Then, I shower and wear another designer casual dress and flats to church. Grandmother is a Baptist. The church is medium sized and has a comfortable feel to it. The brick building is located three blocks from the mansion.

  When Grandmother and I arrive, we are early and that gives the woman time to mingle. Everyone is polite and the service is blissfully short.

  Because there isn’t anything better to do, after church I go straight to the recliner. Tia is sitting on the couch, beside a middle aged man that looks like a spitting image of dad. Okay, so his hair is thicker and his light brown hair doesn’t have any gray. He looks up at me and smiles.

  “Chelsea Philips, the last time I saw you, you were two years old,” the man says. And he expects me to know who he is, why? Does he think that I have a super memory?

  “Oh,” is the only response that I have. He jumps up and gives me a bear hug. I’m still a little sore, but it isn’t so bad.

  “I’m Eric, Tia’s father,” he tells me. So this is dad’s twin. Huh.

  “Oh, nice to see you Uncle Eric,’ I say. He smiles and I immediately decide he isn’t so bad.

  “Cute dress,” Tia says, looking up from her magazine. I plop in the recliner and then Uncle Eric peppers me with questions. He tells me about Canada and how his wife Nina will be happy when Tia goes home with him. By the sad look on Tia’s face, she doesn’t want to go back to her home country.

  “When is Aunt Nina coming to the states?” I ask.

  “Around Christmas time,” he says and the thought of spending Christmas with Grandmother causes a shudder to run through me. I’m hoping I’m not here that long. Christmas should be spent with the ones that you love. For me that’s Mom, Dad, and Tiller. I barely know these people.

  “Chelsea,” The Grinch shouts. She’s angry and the reason alludes me. She bursts into the living room waving a black t-shirt about. I’m frowning at her.

  “Did you leave this by the pool?” she demands.

  “No. I haven’t even gone there yet,” I quickly say. Tia pales. Who knew that the Grinch was such a neat freak?

  “Is that so?” Grandmother shouts. Her face is an angry storm cloud and she’s swaying on her feet. The anger is irrational and someone needs to tell her that a random t-shirt doesn’t matter. I’m hoping Uncle Eric is going to say something, but he’s all of a sudden nervous.

  “Grandmother, it’s only a t-shirt,” I plead to calm her down. Grandmother hands me the shirt.

  “Sniff it, Chelsea,” she instructs. I’m worried that the shirt will smell like B.O. But I take a deep breath and press my nose to the fabric. The smell of sweat, vanilla spray, and cologne cling to the garment.

  “It smells like a guy. Maybe one of the servants left the shirt there,” I speculate, not seeing the big deal. Grandmother suddenly sucks in a breath and plucks the shirt from my hands.

  “You didn’t sneak Adam in here?” she asks.

  “No. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to. The servants would rat me out in a second.” Apparently, my response gives her an idea.

  “Tia, tell your cousin what you saw,” the Grinch demands. Now I get it. Tia was the one that told her she saw Adam here. She schools her features enough to show indifference.

  “I saw Chelsea making out with a guy by the pool last night.”

  “How convenient. What did he look like?” I ask.

  “It was dark. I didn’t see much,” she adds. I’m tired of this scene already. I stand and yawn.

  “If you see Amy, tell her I’m having dinner in my room,” I announce before walking past Grandmother and heading for the door. Uncle Vincent appears out of nowhere and blocks the exit.

  “Did you sneak the boy in here last night? Chelsea, it’s really important that you tell the truth,” my great uncle asks frantically.

  “No. I spent the night in my room. You could ask Amy. Besides, how could I sneak anyone in when I don’t have the password for the security code?” It seems like he has regained common sense. He relaxes and looks like he believes me.

  “I’m not a liar, Grandpa. I saw her kissing that guy,” Tia whines. But like the other day, her “grandpa” dismisses her.

  “I will tell Amy that you want to eat in your room tonight. You may get some company,” Uncle Vincent warns before he moves aside.

  After my bedroom door closes behind me, the weight of what just happened presses down on me. Everyone thinks I snuck a boy into the mansion and made out by the pool. Why do they think that? I’ve been here only two days. It’s not like anyone knows my character. All they have to go on is who my parents are. And that’s when it hits me. These people assume I’m dishonest because of my upbringing. These designer clothes are suffocating me. The outfit is a reminder that these people are rich. I’m poor. Grandmother Betty’s gesture of giving me new clothing was probably an act of charity. Our family was perfectly happy until she insisted on visiting more.

  “Chelsea, can I come in?” It sounds like uncle Eric wants to pay me a visit. I’m in the middle of taking everything that Grandmother bought me out of the closet.

  “I'm busy!” I shout. The man doesn’t respond. He’s probably going down stairs to complain about my insolence. None of this matters anymore. Mom won’t let me go home. It was clear on her face while we ate breakfast. She wasn’t going to budge. However, dearest Mom didn’t lay down specific ground rules. That had been an over sight on her part.

  “What are you doing?” Uncle Eric asks as I walk out of the closet with a pile of clothing.

  “Getting rid of all of the clothes Grandmother bought for me,” I respond as I add to the pile on my bed. Uncle Eric looks at a loss for words.

  “Do you not like the clothes?” he carefully inquires as he sits down at the table.

  “These clothes are a reminder that the Grinch thinks she is better than me.” Uncle Eric frowns.

  “What gives you that idea, Chelsea?”

  “All of a sudden, a boy’s t-shirt is discovered by the pool. She automatically thinks it belongs to Adam. Obviously, I don’t have enough class not to sneak a boy into my grandmother’s house,” I snap. Eric takes a deep breath and points at the chair in front of him, indicating that I should sit. I do.

  “Chelsea, Mom is angry because some items have been stolen. They were last seen before she went to bed. She has a suspicion that whoever was snuck in was the person who stole them,” Uncle Eric explains.

  “Oh, and because I couldn’t possibly know any rich people, it had to be Adam,” I say sarcastically. My uncle doesn’t know how to respond. He begins tapping his fingertips against the table top.

  “Tia saw you,” he reminds me. Amy and Otis enter carrying trays of food, interrupting our conversation. Otis glares at me while his female counterpart gapes at the bed.

/>   “Chelsea, what’s the meaning of this?” she asks as she places a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of me. My only response is to eat one of the chocolate chip cookies. The maid begins to ring her hands as she stares at the mess.

  “I will send Laura in to clean this up,” Amy says as Grandmother strolls in. She glares at Uncle Eric when she sees that he is with me.

  “Moving out?” the Grinch asks.

  “You can take your clothes back. I don’t want them.” She doesn’t look surprised. She seems exhausted.

  “Amy, put those clothes back in her closet,” Grandmother Orders, and the made complies. I set down my fork and glare at her.

  “I don’t want them. I don’t want anything from you. Just send me home,” the words all run together, and for some reason, I’m not in the mansion anymore. I’m in the school bathroom, hopelessness clouding me. I’m looking in the mirror and don’t like what I see. It’s making me angry. Really angry. And then all I want to do is destroy the image looking back at me so I pound on the mirror until it shatters.

  “Chelsea! Chelsea! Chelsea!” I’m on the bed, Amy’s worried face peering down at me. I’m tired and disoriented. I slowly sit up and look at the Grinch, whose face has grown stony.

  “Chelsea, what happened?” she asks. Adam. The only person who could possibly understand. But he isn’t here. And there’s no way that they could possibly understand.

  “I just want to be alone,” I whisper. It’s hard to talk. I need some water. Hearing the scratchiness in my voice, Amy hands me the glass of water that was sent up with dinner. I gulp down the liquid so fast, I nearly choke on an ice cube.

  “I had one of my friends talk to Adam. He claims that he was with a friend last night,” Grandmother reports, as if not believing his alibi. Panic shoots through me. What does grandmother mean by one of her friends?

  “He wasn’t here.” Amy puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Mrs. Philips, Chelsea was in bed by nine. I came in here and checked on her. No one else was in her room,” Amy reports.

  “Amy, this is a matter that doesn’t concern you. Take your leave,” she orders sternly. Amy obeys.

  “What time did you have him in here? How did you do it?” Grandmother shouts. Uncle Eric looks disgusted. Memories begin slamming into me. Teachers shouting, the school principal shaking me, and Ivy’s frustrated shrieks about her precious iPhone. They, like the Grinch, assume I know something that I don’t.

  “He wasn’t here,” I protest.

  “You called him last night,” Grandmother argues.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I say, which is a half-truth.

  “Mom, Chelsea isn’t up to this. Leave her alone,” Uncle Eric says. The matriarch of this family glares at him, then takes Otis' arm and leaves the room. Eric, who had been enjoying shrimp scampi before my episode, gestures at the food. “Chelsea, come finish your dinner. You can’t go to bed hungry.” I shakily get to my feet and join him at the dinner table. He makes small talk and tells amusing stories about Dad. When dinner is over, he gives me a hug and kisses my cheek.

  “Don’t worry, Chelsea. This whole thing will blow over. If it counts for anything, I don’t believe you snuck anyone in here. Tia must have seen someone else,” my uncle says before kissing my cheek and leaving the room.

  Chapter 5

  “Rise and shine,” Amy exclaims cheerfully the next morning. Sleep evaded me last night. I open my eyes and stare into her kind face.

  “What do I have to do today?” I ask. The maid shrugs.

  “I don’t know. Tia went with your grandmother to the country club, so you don’t have to do that.” One would think that I should be relieved by her words. But instead, I feel like I wasn’t good enough to go to the country club with grandmother.

  “Oh. I see.”

  “After breakfast, you are free to do whatever you want. That’s what your grandmother told me,” she announces.

  I need to go for a run to rid myself of this foul mood. Then, I will come back and order some pizza with the meager cash that is in my wallet. Maybe, I can actually find a pizza shop.

  “I’m going running.” Amy looks relieved. She points to breakfast, which is a Pop-Tart. I sit at the table, eat the toasted goodness and drink the milk. Then, I take a quick shower and change into sweat pants, a baggy t-shirt and running shoes. After stretching, I walk out of my room and into the elevator. The elevator stops on the second floor and my great uncle Vincent rushes in. The old man who has been so friendly to me in the past doesn’t even say a word, not even when I say hello. I guess that he doesn’t believe me about Adam anymore. What happened to change his mind? As I make my way to the front door, my phone rings. It’s Adam. With shaking hands I answer.

  “Chelsea?” he asks cautiously.

  “Hi.’ It's so good to hear from him.

  “Some officers visited me last night. Know anything about that?” Fury fills me. Adam is on probation. He can’t get into any trouble.

  “My grandmother thinks you snuck in here to see me the other night. Apparently, some valuables are missing,” I explain as I head toward the door. The Grinch’s brother blocks my path.

  “Give me the phone Chelsea,” he orders. The guy is a lunatic. I shake my head. Past experiences have taught me that the only person who handles my phone is me.

  “I can’t talk right now, Adam,” I quickly say.

  “Chelsea, you have to set her straight. I didn’t steal anything,” he pleads. I hang up and Uncle Vincent reaches for the phone. I shake my head.

  “Why do you need it?” I ask. The question only infuriates him more. He snatches the iPhone out of my hand and tosses it against the wall. The phone shatters on impact.

  “Now, you can’t call him. The bastard can’t steal from us anymore.” His gray eyes fill with hatred. Rage fills me. How dare he break something that I had bought myself with my own money? My two years of hard work down the drain. Vince moves and I’m quick to run out of the front door. The only thing I need right now is a quick run. Then, who knows what. Maybe Skype? That’s the only way Adam can communicate with me. Isn’t it horrible that in the year we dated, I didn’t bother remembering his phone number? Some girlfriend I am.

  It’s muggy outside. By the time I get to the front gate, I feel sticky. A truck is in the driveway.

  “Waverly Repairs.” It’s too bad that the truck isn’t leaving. Then, it would have been simpler to leave the property. I narrow my eyes at the truck until a chuckle makes me jump. I spin around to see Peter standing there. His dark brown eyes are filled with amusement, until he catches sight of my face.

  “Chelsea, what’s wrong?”

  “My iPhone is broken,” is the only thing that comes out of my mouth. I’m crying. But it’s weird that I don’t notice that until Peter wipes a tear away.

  “So you live here?” he asks.

  “No. My grandmother lives here. I want to go home.” It’s nice to see Peter. His familiar face brings me comfort. When he opens his arms I fall into them. I sniffle into his shirt as he pats my hair. Then, I pull away.

  “I’m sorry,” I cry, suddenly feeling horrified. He is a stranger. One doesn’t ever show weakness in front of someone if that person may be a threat.

  “It’s okay, Chelsea. You look like you’ve been having a rough day.”

  “I’ve been having a rough summer. Ever since that moron beat me up, things have been going downhill.” Peter’s eyes are open and friendly. It’s such a contrast to Adam’s indifferent gaze. It’s as if Peter’s gaze is saying, “Go on. Tell me everything.” So, I do. He scratches his head.

  “Adam’s that kid that brought you smart food?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I answer, remembering that Peter had given me flowers, a balloon, and a teddy bear. The teddy bear sits in my closet. I’m guessing that Amy hadn’t known what else to do with it.

  “Thanks for everything.” He shrugs.

  “It’s no big deal. Lilly softened him up,” Peter
responds. He doesn’t realize that I’m thanking him for being kind. I don’t enlighten him.

  “How is Lilly?” is what I say when I really want to ask him if she is his girlfriend. Judging by the pained look on his face, I’ve hit a sore subject.

  “Well, she’s physically fine. Unfortunately, I hurt her pride. I had actually broken up with her that morning. That’s why she was outside to begin with,” Peter confesses.

  “So, what brings you here?” I ask. He grins.

  “My other uncle is a Plumber. He wanted me to come along and give him a hand. My uncles are trying to draw me into their line of work. It won’t work, though. I already know what I want to be,” Peter replies with confidence.

  “And what is that?” I ask.

  “A detective!” he exclaims, a shine in his eyes. I’m speechless. Peter isn’t exactly a hard person. He’s everything gentle and kind.

  “Oh... That’s…” Peter bursts out laughing and that sound alone lightens my heart.

  “Ouch! You don’t think that I’ve got what it takes to be a cop?”

  “You’re brave. But…” He smiles.

  “I want to be an orthodontist,” he admits. Now, that’s a better fit for Peter. Kids will love him.

  “Are you in college?” I ask.

  “I’m going this winter,” he says. “I’m finishing senior year a semester early.”

  “Why not take the time off to relax?” Peter considers this for a moment.

  “I have a lot of schooling ahead of me. Procrastinating isn’t the answer.” The front door opens and Uncle Vincent walks down the steps followed by a tall, thin, bald man.

  “Chelsea, you’ve met Peter?” My uncle glares at me as if he’s embarrassed that I’m talking to the help.

  “I already know him from back home. He saved my life.” The statement floors my great uncle. Peter isn’t amused. He looks the way I feel, disgusted.

  “Oh. So Peter, shouldn’t you go help your boss fix the toilet?” my uncle inquires in a snooty tone. His barb is meant to sting. But Peter just shrugs.

  “I’ve done my part,” he says, as if the old man hadn’t offended him. Uncle Vincent walks past us, the thin man following behind. They turn left and walk out of sight. Peter cracks his knuckles.

  “Well, that man really likes me!” He sarcastically declares. I laugh.

  “You are quite the charmer.” Peter pauses and laughs even harder.

  “Hey, what are you trying to say? I’m not a charmer? First, you question my manliness now my charm? Hanging out with you won’t be good for my self-esteem,” Peter jokes. His laugh is contagious so I laugh along with him.

  “Chelsea,” Peter says when the laughter has long died down.

  “Yes.” Peter seems shy all of a sudden. There is no reason why he should feel that way around me.

  “Do you want to grab lunch with me? This is technically my lunch break and I don’t want to eat alone.”

  “Sure. Just let me change,” I say when I look down at my clothes. Peter smirks.

  “There’s this diner I eat at when I come to Gately with my uncle. The food is pretty good,” he says as he trails me into the house.

  “Follow me,” I tell Peter. He’s the only reason why I’m in a good mood. Uncle Vincent might be cruel and send him away. Peter looks apprehensive but he follows me.

  He doesn’t seem impressed by the mansion. In fact, Peter looks bored by the display of wealth. His reaction, or his lack of reaction, makes me feel vain. We enter my room. Amy straightens from fixing my bed and stares wide eyed at Peter.

  “This is Peter, not Adam,” I assure her as I grab one of my sundresses from the walk in closet and rush into the bathroom to change. The dress is blue with a flower pattern. I wear a pair of flip-flops with the dress. Amy frowns at the attire, wanting me to wear the clothes that Grandmother had purchased for me.

  “Have a good time!” Amy says as she walks us to the elevator. We both smile at her and when the door closes, Peter lets out a sigh of relief.

  “I was worried that my being up there would get you in trouble,” he confesses.

  “Honestly, I don’t care,” I admit as we walk out of the elevator. Apparently, Peter got clearance to drive his uncle’s truck. I’m relieved that we don’t have to walk. It’s too muggy outside. As Peter drives, I relax into the soft leather seat. He seems comfortable behind the wheel. His eyes are bright and he sings along to the songs on the radio. Peter has a good singing voice. Unfortunately, I do not, so I’m shy about singing. But then, I remind myself that he has seen me at my lowest. Who cares if I’m not a good singer? So I join in. Peter howls with laughter.

  “Oh man. You have the voice of a siren,” he teases. I lightly punch his arm and he continues to chuckle.

  “I happen to have a beautiful singing voice,” I say in a serious tone. But one look at Peter makes me crack up as well.

  He pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot for his truck. After putting the keys in his pocket, He hops out of the truck then walks around to open my door. I slide out of the truck with his help and we enter the homey diner. The Waitress gives us a booth in the back corner and I slide in across from him. It is crowded and the smell of fried food is making my stomach growl. The middle aged waitress takes our drink order and hands us menus.

  “Milk.’ I snicker.

  “Hey I need some calcium for these bones,” Peter says defensively. When the woman brings me a water and Peter his glass of milk, she takes our order. We both choose to get bacon cheese burgers and waffle fries.

  “What is your favorite type of flower? He asks. I smile at him.

  “Red roses! Yours?” He rolls his eyes at me.

  “I’m a guy.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I argue.

  “Night blooming jasmines,” he reluctantly replies. I laugh.

  “That’s so random. Why night blooming jasmines?” His expression turns introspective.

  “I’d rather talk about something else. I don’t want to depress you,” Peter responds. My heart squeezes for him and I feel like I want him to smile again. Part of me knows that I will fall back into my funk if he doesn’t smile.

  “When I was four, my mother had surgery on her shoulder. She received tons and tons of flowers. Red was Rain’s favorite color and she was disappointed that we didn’t have red flowers to look at. My older brother Tiller had colored paints. So to surprise my cousin, I painted some of the white rose’s red. Dad was pissed because I ended up getting paint everywhere,” I say. Peter smirks.

  “How did Rain react?” I frown, remembering the end to this story.

  “Dad didn’t allow her to come over to play. I was punished.” The kind expression doesn’t leave his perfect face.

  “It sounds like you were a trouble maker growing up,” Peter teases. I launch into story after story about what Tiller and I did as kids. Some of them were bitter sweet because Dad would punish us. Lucky for us, he tuned out of our lives as soon as Tiller hit junior high. And let’s face it, Mom wasn’t one for staying mad at us. When the heaping plates are placed in front of us, we dig in. Peter’s phone rings halfway through lunch and he quickly answers it.

  “She’s with me.” “Oh, I see.” “Her phone is broken.” “Yes ma’am,” Peter says before hanging up. He stares at me.

  “Who was that?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “You’re Grandma Betty. She wants you to come home immediately.” We both stare at our half- empty plates and then at each other, and continue eating. Peter pays for the bill and we head back to the mansion.

  The Grinch is standing in the foyer when we arrive back home. She looks relieved when she recognizes Peter. Uncle Vincent had probably told her that I left with a stranger. Tia, who is standing beside grandmother stares at my dress. I ignore her disapproval.

  “What happened to your phone?” she demands. At that exact moment, Uncle Vincent walks in the foyer and I glare at him.

  “Uncle
Vincent broke it,” I snap. Grandmother’s face fills with fury. Judging by the old man’s reaction, he hadn’t been expecting me to rat him out.

  “All that time I have been calling her and you didn’t tell me that her phone was broken?’ She shouts. Peter discretely makes his way out of the foyer. He turns around to wave at me and we both smile at each other. When he leaves, Tia mouths “hot.” But, I ignore her. After she lied about seeing me by the pool, there is no way we can ever be pals.

  “I… I apologize Betty. It must have slipped my mind,” Uncle Vincent responds quickly.

  “I apologize Chelsea. I will send Sandra out to get you a new phone. In the meantime, I owe you an apology. Adam wasn’t here last night. He was home watching a game with five of his friends. Countless people vouched for him. And Amy and Sandra checked in on you throughout the night. You were snug in your bed. And then there is the matter that I haven’t given you the key to the recreation wing yet,” she says as she hands a key that is hanging on a lanyard to me. I’m not ready to forgive her. Too many people have apologized and haven’t meant a thing. It’s all too much. Grandmother can see it in my eyes. She mumbles something about Amy giving me the key later and walks off. Vince appears remorseful.

  “Chelsea, I’m terribly sorry for how I acted. The thief stole something very important to me. My emotions may have gotten the best of me,” he says. I ignore the man and walk off to my room.

  Later, a phone is delivered to me. All of my contacts are saved. It looks exactly like my last phone. I immediately call Adam and explain everything. But he doesn’t seem like he’s listening.

  “That’s terrible. Hey, listen baby, I’ve got to go,” Adam says and then hangs up. I’m alone all over again.

  Later that night, Uncle Eric has dinner with me for the second time. He picks at his lobster, while I devour a turkey club. He doesn’t say much. He just eats while I talk about Peter and the diner. After he leaves, I realize that I miss Peter. He’s easy to talk to and a great friend. I walk into my closet and grab the bear Peter bought me and curl up with it as I fall into a dreamless sleep.