Chapter 4 Charleigh
Charleigh
The pot of Folgers she brewed at dawn is now cooked down to a layer of quicksand in the bottom of the carafe; the three giant mugs she nursed all morning aren’t helping her jumpy feeling either.
But it’s not just the coffee jitters, nor Jackson’s impending arrival that’s got her on edge.
It’s Nellie.
Of course it is.
She’s in another one of her bad moods, has been since she hit the back door last night from the swimming hole.
And now it’s up to Charleigh to fix it.
Before Nellie even made it inside, the screech of her brakes announced her presence in the drive.
Charleigh sighed. She was at the stove, stirring a pot of Hamburger Helper for Nellie’s dinner (she and Alexander having already dined on a sumptuous supper of shrimp linguine prepared by Lettie, knowing Nellie would be out) when she heard the tires shriek.
The back door flung open, then thwacked shut. Nellie’s feet thumped as she raced up the stairs.
“Dinner is ready, honey!” Charleigh trilled.
Another door slamming.
Shoulders sagging, Charleigh set the wooden spoon down, steeling herself. Plodded upstairs.
She raised her hand to knock on Nellie’s door, but before her knuckles ever grazed the surface, Nellie barked out, “Don’t wanna eat right now, Mom!” The word mom speared out of her mouth.
Charleigh eased the door open.
Nellie sat cross-legged on her bed, tugging her knees into her chest. Her face was beet red and shiny with tears.
Charleigh placed a tentative foot on the white carpet.
A sharp shake of Nellie’s head. “Not in the mood…to talk…” she said, her words coming out jagged, like she was trying to stifle more tears, “to you.”
Charleigh inwardly winced and froze in place, hand still on the knob.
But she knew she had to pry.
Nellie keeping things bottled up was a powder keg waiting to blow.
“Trouble with Dustin?”
Nellie exhaled, blowing her bangs skyward. “God, no. As if I give a shit about him.”
“Nellie—”
“What?”
“Language.”
“Oh, please. Learned it all from you.” An eye roll.
“What is it, then?” Charleigh crossed the room, sank to her knees in front of the bed.
Another eye roll, another puffed-out sigh, before Nellie lowered herself to talk to Charleigh.
“It’s that new girl. Jane. She’s just like”—Nellie’s hands flailed around her face—“already the center of attention and everything. I didn’t even get into the water tonight. Left before anyone could even see me.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Charleigh offered. “She’s not even in your same league, honey. You shouldn’t let it bother you so much.”
Nellie wrenched her knees closer to her body, began rocking. Eyed Charleigh warily, as though to ask, Why should I trust you?
“That’s the thing: She has nothing, so why is she so popular?
” Nellie’s voice was a live wire sparking through the air.
She hopped up then, bounded from the bed, started prowling around the spacious room.
A balloon with the air just let out of it.
At least she was talking to Charleigh. “She’s already ruining my summer!
She’s, like, all free-spirited and slutty and gross, but everyone’s obsessed with her! ” Nellie was nearly shouting.
Charleigh rose and clapped her hands down on her daughter’s shoulders. Combed her brain for the exact right words, the only words that would work magic on Nellie. “Now, you listen to me. Calm down. Whoever this little Jane bitch is, I’ll take care of her.”