Talisman Read Free Page A

“medicated mother”.  That way, she was only half as witchy.
    I grabbed a hold of the doorframe and swung myself around into the brightly lit kitchen.  There they were, the “terrible-twosome”, huddled around our round oak table that sat in the center of the room.  I felt the weight of their eyes scrutinizing me like they were about to “hold court” and the lowly peasant they’d summoned had finally arrived to do their bidding.
    As I’d figured, Charlotte was sipping on a glass of white wine in her usual lush-like fashion.  I noticed her dark roots had been touched up, so she must have spent the day at Ginny’s Salon.  If Charlotte wasn’t sleeping, drinking, or fussing, she was usually pampering herself.  What else would you expect from someone who spent twenty years competing in local and state beauty pageants — only to be chosen as First-Runner up all their life?   From what Daddy had told me, the coveted “crown” always went to Beverly Rhodes, her childhood best-frienemy.  Honestly, if they’d only been judged on “looks”, I really didn’t see why she never won a single title (though I totally got why the honor of being Miss Congeniality had eluded her).  Even in her early 40’s, Charlotte was still quite a stunner, though a little timeworn — naturally .  She was a super thin, bleach-blonde, blue-eyed mother of two teenage daughters who wasn’t about to let her youth slip away without a fight.  At least not without the help of a little Botox oiling her boxing gloves.
    “How was school?” Charlotte inquired in an icky-sweet tone.
    My mother rarely showed any interest in me and never in my scholastic life.  The only time she thought about school was in the middle of summer, when she wished it were back in session.  Plus, her sugary tongue surprised me, so naturally I was skeptical.
    “ Fine …I guess.  I, um…have a big Geology test tomorrow, and I really need to go study for it,” I stressed.  I was just about to make a hasty u-turn, only to be halted by Charlotte’s voice again.
    “And how was work?”  My mother’s blue eyes widened as she pulled her harsh blonde locks behind her ears, suggesting she truly cared about what I had to say.
    “The usual ,” I replied warily.  It suddenly dawned on me what she was hinting about.  “I won’t get paid until Friday,” I added.  The two of them were probably in here discussing what to purchase this week with my paltry check — their “hurricane relief fund” when they were low on cash.
    Charlotte lifted her glass and took a gulp of wine while she waved her other hand in the air.  Once her glass was back on the table, she smiled at me.  She didn’t seem to care about the paycheck.  I couldn’t help but ponder, If she’s not concerned about that, then what’s with her interest in “me”?
    Charlotte’s bizarre interrogation continued.  “Do you have plans this weekend, dear? ” she asked sweetly.
    I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head at her choice of the word “dear” .  If it weren’t for the fact that Chloe didn’t work (except on a tan), I wouldn’t think for one second her question was aimed at me.
    After an awkwardly long pause, “Yes” finally shot out of my gaping mouth.  “I’m working Friday and Saturday.  It’s Homecoming.  You know how crowded it’ll be, especially after the game.”
    Charlotte smacked her hand on the table.  “I’d completely forgotten that Homecoming is this weekend,” my mother replied.
    That was an obvious lie.  She was one of the football boosters this year and had been up Coach Hayes’ butt for months.  Homecoming was the most important game of the season.  Chloe was even chosen as one of the attendants on the sophomore court.  I seriously doubted she had forgotten about that.
    “ Why? ” I probed.  My birthday was on Sunday.  Was it possible she was actually going to acknowledge it this year?  I wasn’t about to hold my breath.