Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (15 page)

“Our dad’s a television producer. He got her
that job. Turned out to be a blessing and a curse,” she explained,
as she looked at the gossip magazine cutouts with me.

“After the show got cancelled she came to
live with me. The glamorous life is harder than it looks, I think.
You never know who your real friends are. She’s so much happier
here,” she said looking down at me with a beautiful but tired
smile.

She was still on guard for the approach of
my two companions downstairs. Apparently I was being leaked some
highly classified information.

There were four or five pages dedicated to
‘Me Three’ memorabilia, including some photos of Sam with various
famous personalities when she had been a presenter at the
Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Awards. It was weird because I remembered
watching that.

Huh.

To my deep gratification, the last page to
be completed was a collage of Sam and me in our various exploits
over the last few months, including a self-portrait of the two of
us in Goth inside the handicapped stall at Tinseltown.

This important new data was cool, but it
didn’t change how I felt about Sam. I couldn’t love her any more
than I already did. But it explained the whole obscuring herself
thing. She just wanted privacy, and being in Goth was how she
achieved it, allowing her to hide in plain sight. Plus it was a
very good way to weed out true friends from false. As far as that
went, I put up with Trevor; she’d never have a truer friend than
me.

Suddenly the album was gone and I was
looking at the carpet instead. Serena snapped it up and hurried to
replace it back on the shelf. I quickly jumped into a game of
tickle monster with Kailee and Serena moved into the kitchen area
to answer the call of the oven timer.

Trevor and Sam emerged from the lower level
hand in hand and made their way over to the floor where Sam Junior
and I were still having an epoch battle of clash of the
ticklers.

Kailee’s demeanor changed immediately. It
was funny to me that even though Trevor and Sam were basically the
same in their scary looks, the toddler regarded them each very
differently. She was terrified of Trevor and kept trying to pull
Sam away, as though she was worried for her aunt’s safety, and
could do something about it. Or maybe she was just jealous—I knew
how she felt.

Trevor didn’t seem offended, but was amused,
like me. I’m sure he knew just how frightening he was and didn’t
need someone thirty inches tall to confirm it. The part of my brain
dedicated to involuntary and abstract thoughts wondered what TV
show he had starred in…something on SciFi Channel, no doubt.

Chapter 14
–
Repression

Sam invited herself over for the night. It
was an unusual move for her because she did not generally enjoy
time spent at my house. But it turned out to be the lesser of two
evils for her. She was looking for escape while Serena hosted one
of her former Laker Girls team members, visiting for the night. Sam
would rather stay with me and be herself than pretend to be
pleasant for company she didn’t enjoy.

This would be my first endeavor at hosting a
sleepover. I wasn’t nervous about entertaining her. She was easy to
be with. What made me nervous was the ‘worlds colliding’ aspect of
being around Sam and my mom at the same time.

Mom’s presence, or more specifically, my
behavior in my mom’s presence (pleasant acquiescence) did not
always meet with Sam’s approval, and at times it even fired her
annoyance. She was an extremely free spirit, the epitome of
self-directed maturity, and my most treasured hero; also my exact
opposite.

My mom’s pleasant but intractable insistence
upon healthy eating, limited exposure to television, and everyone
getting no less than eight full hours of sleep each night greatly
cramped Sam’s style. The SS Montgomery, however, was a tightly run
ship, where self-directed free spiritedness was discouraged by the
X.O. Though I knew in my heart that my ranking officer loved me
dearly, it was also a certainty that I would always be an ensign in
her eyes.

As she came to know me better, Sam developed
the conviction that I was suffering from the ill effects of a
‘mommy knows best’ style of parenting. After my two biggest female
influences had their first meeting, Sam made it her new mission in
life to set me free from repression. The crazy thing was that my
mom was unaware of her involvement in the battle for my soul.
Because it was clear to her that Sam loved me, she in turn loved
Sam—unconditionally.

As we moved into my room for the night, my
guest carried in a grocery bag, a duffle bag and something on a
hanger.

“Can I hang this up in your closet?” she
asked as she opened the door, not waiting for permission. The
chagrin settled on me while the scene on the back of my closet door
settled on Sam. She stared at it wordlessly for thirty seconds or
more.

With a look of pure amusement, especially
when she recognized her own image among the others arranged there,
she looked over at me, eyebrows raised.

“Wall of Heroines,” I explained, without
flourish.

Though I felt embarrassed, I decided to take
a page from Sam’s manual and not act ashamed of my own preferences.
Besides, she deserved to know what she was dealing with.

“This is awesome!”

She was being genuine. I felt relief, but
not surprise. She always seemed pleased to unearth evidence of my
strange personal preferences, probably because I was so secretive
about them. She was invariably intrigued, but I was certain that
eventually she’d make that final bizarre discovery which would end
her charitable fascination with me once and for all. Apparently the
collage of my very favorite lady heroes wasn’t the end game
discovery I feared it might be.

“Bella and Alice, Arwin and Eowen, Trinity
and The Oracle,” she named them off as she identified them. “Who
are these?” she asked as she pointed to some characters in the
animation section.

“That’s Red Riding Hood, and Granny Puckett,
from Hoodwinked. And those are Elastigirl, Violet and Edna from The
Incredibles,” I said.

“Who is this?” she asked, pointing to a
recent photo cut out.

“My driving instructor,” I replied,
shrugging.

I braced for a line of interrogation but she
let it go.

“How many are on here?” she asked as she
bent down to look at the faces that covered the entire surface of
the door, all the way down to the floor.

“Several years’ worth. It’s been a hobby of
mine for a while,” I admitted, then laughing once I said,
“Incidentally, Monica does not approve.”

I knew that would get her fired up. She
didn’t disappoint.

“Why?”

She was totally indignant.

“She thinks it’s beneath me. Puerile, I
believe, was the word she used.”

“Okay, I’ll take the bait…what does
‘puerile’ mean?”

“Silly, trivial, immature,” I explained.

She drew breath as though she might
retaliate with an insult of her own, but then thought better of
it.

Sam spent a gratifying period of time
closely observing all the faces on the door, chuckling approval at
some, questioning others. When she was finished with her analysis
of a very real window into my psyche, she placed her things inside
the closet, purposely leaving the door open, and then moved to my
bed.

“Tell me the truth, doesn’t your mom drive
you crazy, El?” she asked as she stretched out on top of my
comforter, with her back pushed up against the pillows at the
headboard.

I shut the closet door and crossed the room
to join her, sitting cross-legged at her feet.

“She’s entitled to her opinion. She’s really
not that bad.”

And she wasn’t. She was always very pleasant
in her pursuit of health and happiness and decorum. I had never
been yelled at or spanked in my entire life. I knew most people,
including Sam, couldn’t say the same.

“That right there! That’s what’s so
disturbing! You’re taking up for her. You don’t even know how bad
it is.”

I sighed. We had this kind of conversation
frequently because she was always pushing me to break the barriers
I lived within. And cowardly as always, I would blame anything I
didn’t want a part of on my mom’s rules.

“You’re right. She’s pretty strict, I know.
It’s just that she’s lost everyone she’s ever loved, well, except
for me, and Hoyt. I understand why she’s so protective. I don’t
mind, for now. It’ll be different when I’m on my own. I can be
patient with her until then.”

She brightened at that last part.

“Speaking of moving out, I wanted to talk
about college, about you and me getting a place together.”

She was excited.

I sighed again.

“Sam, I don’t see how that can work out.
There aren’t any Earth Science programs in the schools you applied
to.”

“You’re not serious about majoring in
geology, are you? I’m sorry but that seems like a huge waste of
your talents.”

“Which talents are you referring to?”

“Hello, Miss Walking Dictionary. How do you
do? Miss Coin Aficionado. Greetings, Miss Exact Ethnicity Guesser.
Good day, Miss Speaks Dead on in Foreign Accents. Come on Ellery.
Rocks? Really? You have so much more to offer. There’s got to be a
better fit for you than rocks.”

My strange interests lent themselves to
employment in a traveling circus perhaps, but nothing purposeful or
particularly gainful.

“Minerals, actually,” I clarified.

“Minerals? How can minerals make you
happy?”

“Diamonds are minerals, you know,” I teased.
“Girl’s best friend and all?”

“Wearing them, El, not digging in the dirt
for them! Please!” she said with a huff.

“You know who you sound like now, don’t
you?” I asked.

“No, who?”

“Monica.”

I smiled big knowing that she’d hate being
compared to my mom.

“Shut up!”

She laughed and pushed at me playfully with
the balls of her feet. Then she was serious again.

“Ellery, please just consider some
alternatives, okay? Here are the schools I’m seriously
considering,” she said as she handed me a folded sheet of
paper.

I opened it up to see a printout of various
schools with bullet points about their programs. I had a feeling
that each of the respective admittance offices probably already had
applications from me…

“Look at everything with an open mind and
see if maybe there could be something better for you. I’ll go to
any of those schools. They all have top rate journalism programs.
Just say the word.”

Sam’s master plan was to pursue a career in
sports broadcasting, with an inside edge as a former child star and
connections like her NBA brother-in-law, and who knew how many
celebrities from her Nickelodeon days. Once she got established as
a reporter, she would work on producing her own show on cable,
possibly a travel show. That sounded good to me. I’d definitely
watch it.

I wished I had a master plan like that.
Unfortunately, a gift for strategy was not one of my ‘talents.’

“Are you that sure you’ll be accepted?” I
asked.

She was smug.

“Absolutely.”

“And you’d actually let me decide…for both
of us?”

I was touched.

“Of course. We’re like family. We’re going
to share a place on our own, just you and me. It’s gonna be
fantastic.”

“And what about Trevor?”

I was skeptical. There was no way she would
choose me over him.

I’d finally called her bluff. She looked
away, avoiding my eyes.

“I don’t know about that part, yet, El. He
keeps avoiding the subject of college, so I guess we’ll see. Don’t
you dodge me too. I need a straight answer, all right?”

The look in her eyes was pleading.

I nodded.

“I’ll think about it,” I said as I scanned
the list. “Maybe you’re right. I would love to be on my own…with
you.”

With you running my life instead of
Monica.

I laughed at the reversal that would
represent.

“That’ll be a valuable education in itself,
won’t it? I wonder if that would count as a minor,” I mused out
loud.

She smiled hugely at my response, like she’d
won or something.

“So what did you bring me?” I asked, looking
toward the brown grocery bag that came upstairs with us instead of
into the kitchen.

“Your favorites: Pop Secret with extra
butter, Nestle Toll House chocolate chip cookie dough, and for
breakfast, Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.”

“I love you,” I said with deep feeling.

“I know. And just think how good it’ll be
this fall,” she said, trying to tempt my junk food loving inner
child.

“Yeah, I’ll miss all my classes while I
sleep off the mother of all sugar comas, thanks to you,” I
said.

I scooped up one of her feet and started
rubbing her toes with both hands, pulling and twisting them one by
one.

“Sam?” I was nervous about asking this next
question.

“Yeah?” she had lain back to enjoy an
impromptu massage.

“Do you think you and Trevor will ever get
married?”

I kept rubbing even though she didn’t answer
me for a while.

“Absolutely.”

There wasn’t a hint of doubt in her tone. I
looked up in surprise as my hands dropped her foot on the bed.

“Are you two engaged?” I was instantly
unsettled.

She picked up on my turmoil and propped
herself up with an arm, turning toward me.

“Does that make you nervous?”

“You’re engaged!?” I blurted out, definitely
panicked.

“I didn’t say that. But what if we
were?”

She was enjoying herself too much. I picked
her foot back up and tickled it in retribution. She jerked it away
and yelped in playful alarm at the same time.

“Don’t do that to me! I need lots of notice
before you two leave me. I’m serious,” I warned.