Chapter 9: Choose

...the dinner (begun in Chapter 8) continues...


Her gesture opened the door to possibility. To Riley, she was the friend Sherry brought to dinner, who always wore jeans and a t-shirt and was often sullen and not given to conversation. They joked she was Sherry’s little sister: there because she had to be, but not present in spirit.

He thought she might be pretty, but wasn’t convinced. She tended to hang her head and, even when looking his way, hide her eyes beneath her brows. The gold stud in her nostril intrigued him but he never felt right about asking.

Tonight, she was pushing hard to engage him. Her clothes, demeanor and straight-on look were different. She was pretty. Though tempted to believe she was thinking of him when dressing up, he knew that was silly; and as for her attentions, she’d rather talk to him than be scolded by Sherry at the other end of the table. Still, he was giddy and responsive to her fluttering brown eyes. But as he looked into her face, he saw Mara and Sherry beyond, reading his reactions. He wanted to put them off, especially Mara who was taking a special delight.

Sherry steered the conversation to the meaning the dinner had for her. Though her departure was four months away, she told them, it seemed closer because they’d be gone for half that time. Her words raised awareness that the four might never again sit together at that table, causing a reflective mood to settle momentarily, until pushed aside by more immediate events.

Mara enthusiastically told details about her upcoming trip to Paris and the Rivera, the candle flames seeming to gild the images of those glamorous places. Riley couldn’t match it, but mentioned the wheat on his grandpa’s farm and driving on the beach in Daytona where his parents lived.

“I’m not going anywhere,” scowled Lola, calling Sherry back from thoughts of far-off places. She’d be alone most of the summer.

“Stay here.”

Lola’s eyes lit up as she looked around the table for confirmation.

“Use my room,” Mara offered.

Riley jabbed. “If you want noisy.”

Mara’s face grew fierce with memories of a disturbing night she’d rather forget. She hadn’t told anyone. He couldn’t know. The upstairs neighbor, though, was common knowledge.

Taken aback by her look, he was about to speak when Lola, in a husky voice, asked, “Are you offering yours?”

Mara hooted and he recoiled. Caught up in the excitement, Lola reached for the wine and drank. Only when her insides glowed was she aware of what she’d done, bringing a hand to her mouth. Mara scrutinized her like a mad scientist and Sherry cast down her eyes.

“Oopsee!”

Pretending to ignore the transgression, Sherry said, “Mara’s would be more appropriate. Girls should be in a girl’s room.”

Mara needled. “Riley, do you have anything to be ashamed of?”

“Nothing like that. It’d be nicer. A woman lays her room out differently.”

“That’s it?” Mara probed. “Maybe you think men and women shouldn’t be together. You know what I mean.”

“When they’re married---”

“You had a man in your room,” Lola challenged.

Sherry’s head snapped. No one had questioned her about that night, though she reassured everyone in general terms. But that, she realized, hadn’t stopped people from thinking. What people see, people think about. Sometimes what they don’t see, they think about even more. She didn’t have any second thoughts about taking Roger to her room and objected to Lola’s insinuation that she had crossed a moral line.

“Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” taunted Mara.

They were ganging up. Lola, whose life choices she tried to influence, acting like a little sister calling out contradictions; and Mara whose do-it-all attitude existed somewhere outside her own world.

“Nothing.”

“Why so happy then?”

“I was glad to see him.”

“You’re too strict,” Lola whined.

Riley, who’d been watching them flank and push Sherry, inserted himself back into the conversation.

“Use my room, if you want.”

Lola hopped in her seat and fluttered her lashes. “See!”

Sherry shrugged and gazed at her thoughtfully. “It doesn’t matter. Compare them and take your pick. Later, if you think you made a mistake, move. At least you have a choice. As for being too strict, I’m not---for me. You’ll have to decide where you want to be, between strict and not strict enough."

Lola nodded. Mara and Riley listened, feeling there was a meaning they didn’t fully comprehend.

They cleared the table to make room for dessert and, as they ate, the reflective mood reasserted itself.

“Once you told me,” Lola said, “‘draw a line’. Do you remember?”

Sherry nodded. “And there you build a wall.”

“What’s it mean?” Asked Riley.

“It means to choose. Keep what’s good on your side, toss what’s bad.”

“I want a catapult,” said Mara.

“I’d like a window,” Sherry said

“And a door,” added Riley.

Looking doubtful, Sherry watched his fingers walk across the table and tap the back of Lola’s hand.

“And I have the key!”

Lola jumped, as if shocked by electricity. Mara clapped. At first Sherry was quiet, but when everyone turned to gauge her reaction, she laughed. Beginning as a rumble in the pit of her stomach, it shook her body, escaping through her mouth. Soon all of them were laughing and stomping the floor.

*

And in September Sherry moved back home to be welcomed by her loved ones. Granted a fresh perspective through the room she had to roam and think, she stepped into her future.

Lola suffered the loss of her close friend but planned to attend her wedding one day. Meanwhile, she raised a mound on the good side of the wall.

Mara and Riley were so content they posted another ad, but turned the candidates away. Somehow, someway, they stepped across a line, which people, walls and spaces help define.


* * *





On October 24, I will aggregate all nine chapters of this story in one post for ease of reading.

I will be taking a break from posting stories, though I will continue to write. My next story will begin January 2011. Thanks for reading. You may send me comments using the Post A Comment feature below or by sending an e-mail by going to my profile.

The persons and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.