Who's Your Daddy? Read Free Page A

serenity fountains are soothing.
    Compare that atmosphere to one of bright, corporate clone paint, fluorescent lights, zit-faced, overzealous assistant managers, and nonstop video background noise, and the choice is obvious. Plus, at Inner Power, she only has to work with the two way-mellow women who own the shop rather than all the mouth-breathingvidiots who work at Blockbuster, and she’s learning all kinds of sweet stuff about, well, metaphysics.
    “Since we’re not going,” Meryl continued, “we should all spend the night at Caressa’s and have a dumb supper.”
    That made both Caressa and I blink up at her in confusion.
    “If it’s okay with your parents, of course,” she added, glancing over at Caressa.
    “It always is.” Caressa shrugged. Her parents, as a rule, were totally cool about stuff like that.
    “A dumb supper?” I interjected, just as Caressa and I exchanged a look. “You mean, like something we all hate? Great idea, Meryl,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. “Brilliant. That would really cheer us up.”
    “No, goof. It’s a tradition that dates back to seventeenth-century England. It’s a midsummer’s eve custom—”
    “Yeeeeeah, newsflash. It’s not summer,” I pointed out, even though it
had
to be obvious, even for a person who didn’t watch the evening news. Hello, snowstorm!
    “Still,” Meryl said, unfazed by my sarcasm. “I think it’s adaptable. It’s all about our intent.” She shrugged. “If they can hold homecoming on a school night, I figurewe can host a dumb supper on the equinox rather than midsummer’s eve.”
    She had a point.
    “What do we have to do?” Caressa asked, her eyes glowing with curiosity that mirrored how I felt.
    “Well, there are lots of details, but in general we have to hold a silent dinner that starts at midnight, with only black linens and total darkness. Well, except for candles. We have to make and serve everything backward, and—oh, it’s a long story. I’ll explain it all later.” She flipped her hand. “The point is, it’s supposed to help us predict who we’ll marry, but since we’re only sixteen, I’m thinking it will help us predict who we might date instead. What do you think?”
    “Is it reliable?” asked Caressa.
    Meryl quirked her mouth to the side. “Well, it’s been going on since the sixteen hundreds. It can’t be
all
stupid.” She looked from one of us to the other. “So?”
    “I’m game,” I said. Anything to take my mind off how much my life blew major chunks.
    “Me, too,” said Caressa.
    Meryl’s face spread into a huge smile. “Then it’s a date.”
    “A date? Well—” I said, “even if this dinner turns out to actually
be
dumb, at least we’ll each be able to say we had ONE date this year.”
    We all laughed, but the truth was, we couldn’t wait. I could hear it in my own breathlessness, in the equally nervous and psyched laughter of my two best friends. It gave us something to look forward to, and boy, did we need it.
    Little did we know how this harmless, losers’-alternative-to-homecoming, dumb supper would end up changing our entire lives.

two

    FROM: [email protected]
    TO: [email protected], [email protected]
    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 youout 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