Page 18 of Crash into me
I give her a bright, hopeful smile. Hearing the good news about Sophie already doing her second surgery is wonderful and amped up my spirits. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mrs. Rita.”
“I know that dear, but …” She trails off as I set my hand atop of hers.
“But nothing. This is really good news, and I know I’m doing the right thing,” I say proudly. “Any other news you have for me?” Anything about Foster, I want to ask.
“Yes! We have the place to ourselves.” I tilt my head, and she continues, “Your mom went to Fiji to meet with … him.” She sneers. “They won’t be back until Saturday.”
Saturday, the dinner with the Hollingsworth’s.
For some reason this makes me deflate just a little. Of course, she was only here to make sure my red streak was gone, so I could be the perfect Barbie doll.
The smile soon returns to my face. Freedom for the next few days sounds like just what I need. “Oh shit!” I cover my mouth. “I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.”
She nods. “I know. I’ll drive you.”
I heave a sigh of relief. I’m not good with needles, and the thought of having to drive after they take blood, if they take any, makes my skin crawl. “Thank you!”
She pushes my hair behind my ear. “Do you need anything else? More food?”
“I’m okay, thanks!” I look down at my nearly empty plate, my stomach happily full. “I appreciate this so much, but I’m going to start helping you around the house.”
She shakes her head. “It makes me happy to look after you, Skyler.”
A bubbling sense of joy spreads through me as I sling my arms around her. Today is going to be perfect. “What do you think about a dance party?”
She laughs. “I’ll cue the music.”
This is something we’ve done since I was a kid, I should have known then that I wanted to be in ballet or some other form of dance other than cheer. When mom was here and we’d do this, she’d cut the music and make me practice my routines.
No one’s here to cut anything off now, so as I slip on my soft fuzzy socks, I know we’re about to have a good morning.
Mrs. Rita can’t move as quickly, but she has just as much fun as we slide around the living room, playing old music and holding hands as we swing around and dance the morning away.
Maybe it's not the house's fault. There’s so much happiness is here when it’s not filled with deceit and pain.
“Know what we should do next?” I ask her as she catches her breath.
“What’s that?”
“Pool party!” I shout into the echoing grand room.
She laughs. “I have so much to get done.”
“Oh no you don’t. We’re getting Kate over here, and we’re going to waste the day away.”
“You girls keep me young!”
* * *
“Party time, party time!”Kate sings as she bursts through the front door. Her fiery red hair is in a messy bun on top of her head; this way you can see all the freckles that adorn her face. It’s one thing we’ve always had in common.
Mrs. Rita leans in. “I’ll make the margaritas!” she sings.
This house is much more happy when filled with my real family. Kate jumps on the couch singing along with the radio that we’re playing through all the speakers. I jump up, joining her as we sing terribly along with the artist.
Rita returns with drinks, and we all down shots of tequila. The drinking part isn’t normal for us, but I think she knows I need it.
It’s not long before we’re sinking into the pool, drinking in the last bits of summer before fall comes. It’s Miami, though, so really summer lasts long into autumn.