Spiral (11 page)

He clears his throat. “Well, bud, as you know, a lot has happened in the last few days,” Jim begins, resting his elbows on the table. “We, uh, we went to meet with my brother’s lawyer, and we discussed the terms of my brother’s will and custody for Cherie.”

“What does that mean?”

My mom’s tone is gentle, like a kindergarten teacher explaining to her students how to add. “It means that Mark and Camille wanted Jim to take Cherie should something happen to them, which, well…” Her voice trails off for a moment.

“I know what custody means.” I’m growing more and more impatient as I wait for them to hit me with it. I can’t bring myself to ask,
Cherie’s moving in, isn’t she?

“Well,” Jim chimes in, “Cherie is now my responsibility, so she’s kind of like a daughter to me.”

I toss my glare back and forth between them. “Yeah, I got that.”

“She wants to step away from acting, which I think is really good for her right now. She could probably use some time to herself.” He glances at my mother. “But she wants to be in her home, too, because it’s her home, and it’s close to her studio for when she decides to go back to work. The social worker we spoke to thinks the consistency would be good for her, and I can understand that as well.”

I nearly sigh with relief. “Okay, so she’s moving back home, then?”

Jim nods. “Yes, she is.” He pauses, and I hate that. It means something else is coming.

“We’ve talked it over and, since it’s been deeded to us as Cherie’s trustees, we think it will be good for all of us to move with Cherie to her home in Hollywood next month.”

I
stand up from the table. “That’s it; I’m going to live with Frank.

My announcement comes as more of a shock to my mom than it does to Jim. I almost expect her to ask, “
How could you do that to me?”
I swallow hard, my stomach twisting in knots until I’m ready to vomit. But I have had enough. I have to stand my ground.

“Jack –”

But I’ve thrown up my hands already and move from the table, not giving them an ounce of time to talk their version of sense into me. I’m practically foaming at the mouth. “I can’t do it. It’s not fair, and I’ve already put up with all of this.” I gesture around the house wildly, but they know what I mean. “Now you want me to pick up and move to California – in the middle of my junior year?”

Mom tries to be patient with me. “Jack, sweetie, I know it’s hard, and I know we are asking a lot of you. Trust me, I do.” She looks at Jim as if this was not her favorite plan either. “But we all have to think about a much bigger purpose here.”

“That’s fine, Mom, I get it, but I’m not moving across the country just because tragedy struck someone else’s family.”

My mom pulls back as if I’ve spit at her. “Jack, they were our family. I know you don’t know her well, but Cherie’s your family, now, too, and she’s all alone in the world. She’s – she’s an orphan, Jack.”

She looks me dead in the eye. It’s a cold, hollow stare. “Jack, think of Britney.”

“This isn’t about Britney,” I grumble, but I know what she’s getting at. Her words take an imaginary knife and slice me open. Now she’s staring at my wounds, and I can’t close them up fast enough.

“Just think of what you would want someone to do if this happened to her. Wouldn’t you drop everything and help her and do what’s best for her?”

“I did that once, Mom. Remember?” She blinks back tears, but I don’t feel bad; she started it.

In a trembling voice, Mom adds, “Jack, we all had to stick together then, and we all have to stick together now, too.”

“No, this is different. This is way different. How can you expect me to give up my life and move to a different state and be even more miserable?” I huff. “You keep changing things. You keep adding to a house that’s already full. God, you’re gonna end up like a cat lady – only with kids!”

She sighs and a tear falls down her face. I hate myself for making her cry, and she twists the mental knife deeper. “Maybe you’re right, but I can’t turn a child away, not like this, Jack. I’m sorry. She needs us right now, and New York is not the place for her. They have a beautiful estate out in Hollywood that we can all live in very comfortably. You’ll still have your own room, and the weather’s always nice – ”

“Mom, I get it. Go! You do that –
you
go live in California with all those kids, and you have a happy life. I want to stay here, in New York. I can just live with Frank, or Aunt Darla.”

Her tears fall faster now. “You know that’s not an option, Jack. Besides, I couldn’t go a day without you – and what about Britney? She’d be heartbroken. You can’t be so far from us!”

“Then don’t go,” I insist, putting my foot down. I look at Jim, and I can feel the frost of his icy glare. He’s mad at me now, but I don’t care. Man to man, this is what it comes down to: who will she choose? I feel like some soap opera organ music should be playing in the background, with some announcer exclaiming,
“What will Eva do? Will she stay for the son who’s always stood by her, or will she follow the man who came around and put a band aid over a missing limb?
”

And I have my answer when she looks at him, passing the baton in this awful relay. It’s his turn to speak.

“Jack, I know this hasn’t been an easy transition for you,” he begins.

“That’s an understatement.” Mom’s nostrils flare at my snarky tone.

Jim takes in a deep breath. “I know it must be hard to live in a full house.”

“How would you know? You’re never around!” I snap. It’s true; Jim has so little experience with the day-to-day routines in this home. It’s like he dropped his daughters off at a permanent day care. I wasn’t surprised that Christmas Eve was the first night he discovered Britney sleeps in my room. He didn’t even know she was afraid of the dark.

My tone should have gotten me in trouble, but he continues patiently. “Here’s the situation, Jack: a very long time ago, before she was famous, before she was rich, Cherie’s parents left me and my late wife as her guardians, and I vowed to take care of her and raise her as my own in the event of some catastrophic incident. Here we are, 16 years later, and I unfortunately have a duty to fulfill.

“Now, I understand how this looks like it could be as simple as staying here in New York, but I’m also aware of the size of this family, the size of this already shrinking house, the lack of privacy a celebrity like Cherie would have in a small town like ours, all of this.”

“She is going to be famous anywhere, Jim,” I say with authority. “And that, by the way, is not good for the rest of us to have to live with forever. It’s dangerous; the reporters almost stampeded over Britney the other day. There are pictures of all of us everywhere.”

“I know. I’ve seen them, and I’m not happy about it,” he says. I feel like he means to say more, like he’s not happy that they’re labeling me as her boyfriend. I feel my face flush a little.

“But that’s not all, Jack,” he adds, his voice lowering. “Your mother and I have been talking for some time about starting fresh in a new place. As you know, the housing market is awful, and we couldn’t sell this house if we tried. I never dreamed one day we would have a space to go to freely, no questions asked.”

So many thoughts swirl in my head at once, and I have to step back. The only words that I think are appropriate to say out loud come tumbling out of my mouth.

“This is wrong. This is so wrong.”

“Jack,” my mother says in her warning voice.

“So, let me get this straight,” I continue, my hands piecing the puzzle together in the air. “You’ve wanted to – were planning – to move, but you didn’t tell me. Now, you’re looking to use Cherie’s situation – the death of your brother and his wife! – to make your dreams come true? What kind of people are you?”

“Jack!” My mother is horrified at my accusation, but I stare at her, unwavering.

Jim is red-faced. “Call it what you will, but I am taking lemons and making damned lemonade, and you will not make me feel badly about it!” Jim’s in my face now, but I’m taller, which I’m sure intimidates him.

He snarls, “What we do for the betterment of this family shouldn’t matter to you anyway. You’re applying for colleges all over the east coast, aren’t you? When you’re playing football in Florida, is it going to matter where your mother lives?” His chest rises and falls with fury. I am reminded that he lost his brother a few days ago and that he isn’t entirely responsible for what he says or, worse, what he does.

“That’s not for another two years,” I say, hating that his argument kind of makes sense.

“Well, this is a decision we need to make now, for her, and for everyone else,” he says stiffly. “You can go wherever you want when you’re ready, but right now you have to come with us while we support Cherie.”

I growl, “She’s your responsibility, not mine. You won’t make this my problem, too.” I force myself to take another step back.

“
Jack!”
my mom cries.

As I storm away from the table, I catch sight of Cherie and the twins standing in the doorway of the basement, spying on our conversation. Cherie’s mouth is set in a hard, angry line, but her eyes are glistening with tears ready to fall. It socks me in the gut and I wince inwardly. She whirls around and flees back down the stairs. Chloe’s sinister eyes glower at me from the dark corners of the stairwell before she follows her cousin, and Claudia just frowns. I’m not sure if she’s disappointed in me or feels sorry for me, but it makes me feel worse.

Shit
.

I lay in bed replaying the conversation and standoff in my mind. Jim obviously wants to cash in on his brother’s death, but at what expense to the rest of us? She could live anywhere, like Manhattan, or somewhere swanky in Westchester with…someone. Her grandparents. Aunt Darla seems to love her. Someone else.

Lots of people would adopt her, so that’s an option.

No it’s not. Who am I kidding?

I think of California, with its surfer dudes and all those rich people that we don’t really belong with. If we move to Hollywood Hills, I’ll have to go to a Hollywood school. I don’t want to be surrounded by rich, snobby daughters of movie producers and guys who think they’re so cool because their parents party with Kanye West or something.

Nope. Can’t do it
. I’ll move in with Frank. I’ll live with anyone else.

I pause and sit up, remembering my father’s email address. That could be my ticket out of here! I’ll send my dad an email and beg him to take me in; who cares if he abandoned us? Who cares if he never called or offered help when times were really bad?
All is forgiven, Dad
! I’ll do anything but move to `California with this circus.

I flip my laptop open and go to my email inbox. I type his address into a new message and move my cursor to the empty body.

Hi
,

That’s as far as I get. I stop and lean back, staring at the screen, my fingers trembling over the keys. What does someone write after all this time? I try again.

You owe me, and it’s time to pay up.

I quickly delete it and shake my head. There’s no way he’d invite me to live with him after I leave that kind of message, even if it is what I’m thinking. I clear my throat and start to type again.

What are you up to? I hope things are good. Things aren’t so good here.

Terrible. What a dumb idea. I slam my laptop closed and fall back onto my bed, my head pounding with frustration. I am not in a good frame of mind to write this now.

I hear the creak of my door and look up. Britney’s pushing through the small slit between the molding and the door, and she closes it silently behind her. She is carrying her blue Care Bear. It was my Care Bear, but I gave it to her when she was born. She scurries to the foot of my bed and clumsily climbs aboard, crawling toward me on all fours. I pretend to be asleep, which I usually am during this routine.

She burrows inside of my arm and rests her head against my shoulder, sighing softly. I smell the Johnson’s Baby Wash in her hair and the bubblegum toothpaste my mother’s convinced her to use. She always smells like candy and clean and home.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. I hear my mother’s voice. “
What about Britney? She’d be heartbroken
.”

I’m lying to myself if I think I can abandon Brenton and Britney the way Dad abandoned us all.