Twist My Charm (11 page)

I stay flat on the floor, staring at my ceiling. Who
are
these people?

“We'd better turn it off, Mama,” says the younger voice. And a moment later, I don't hear any sounds at all.

I stay on the floor, too scared to move. I want to make sure those people are truly gone and Uncle Arnie's computer is really off before I get up.

I lift my head slowly. “Hello?” I say quietly.

There's no response, so I sit up halfway.

“I am the ghost child of Los Angeles!” I whisper in a spooky voice. When I don't hear any answer to that, I feel safer. I glance at the computer screen. It's black on Uncle Arnie's side.

My heart is going wild and a million questions are running through my head. Then I remember something else that's running—the bathtub! I dart across the hall, where the water has inched up and up and is about to go over the edge! I turn off the faucet just in time.

That was a close one. There'd be no way to explain to Dad an overflowing tub or the smell in the bathroom right now. I need to forget about whatever weirdness is going on at Uncle Arnie's and start working on my own weirdness, without his love potion. I'm too freaked out from what just happened to even think about using it now!

After letting some water drain out, I get into the tub slowly, like a corn dog being dipped in its bubbling batter. Once I'm all the way in, I lift my toes out of the water and see them getting red—with the rest of my body quickly following. To get my mind off that, I pretend like I'm Madison's mom, Heather Paddington, in her gigantic “powder room,” filled with big bottles of perfume and vases of flowers. I lie back, put a washcloth over my eyes, and order my staff around. “Chef, make me some pâté, and use extra bay leaves!” “Alfredo, more bubbles! But
close your eyes
when you come in!”

KNOCK KNOCK. What's that? Why is there knocking? The chef isn't really here! And I'm not even sure Alfredo is a real person! I sit up and pull the cloth off my eyes. “What?” I shout.

Dad's voice comes from the other side of the door. “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody,” I say. “I'm just taking a bath.”

“You don't have your phone in there, do you?”

I know why Dad's asking. If I were talking on the phone in the tub, I would drop it for sure. “No. I was…um…talking to myself, I guess.”

“Well, as long as you're good company,” he says. What a doofus. “Don't forget to come out and put the dishes away tonight.”

I tell him I won't…forget, that is. Then I dunk myself under the water. If I'm going to be covered in a bay leaf broth, it might as well be from head to toe.

A
fter I drain the tub, I wrap a towel around me and run to my room, holding my five leftover bay leaves like they're precious diamonds. Toby, who's lying on the floor, looks up and makes a grossed-out face. “Oh, like you always smell like roses!” I say as I open my dresser drawer. None of my pj's—or, as the potion called them, nightclothes—are “washed freshly,” but I pick a nightgown I haven't worn since I was nine, so I'm pretty sure it's clean. The sleeves are way too short, and my bony arms look like sticks on the sides of a snowman. I'm glad my sheets and pillowcase don't have to be “washed freshly” too, because I can't remember the last time we cleaned those!

I find some safety pins scattered around my desk; then I pin a bay leaf to each corner of my pillowcase. A few leaves break into a couple of pieces, but I'm not worried. I know the universe will understand my intention. I put a full leaf under the pillow as instructed, then go to put the dishes away.

As I walk down the hallway, I hear voices coming from the kitchen.

One is Dad's. The other is…a woman's!

Though I can't understand any words, I'm very glad not to hear Southern accents. I've had enough of those tonight. I stop and listen harder. This woman had better not be Paige. But I can't tell. I take a couple of steps closer, leaning forward, stretching my neck, still not hearing anything specific, leaning forward even more, until…

BANG! Something that sounds like a pot clangs against the floor or the counter. I scream! Then I fall over, right into the kitchen doorway, where Dad and whoever this woman is can see me from head to toe.

So much for trying to spy.

“Are you okay?” the woman asks, and finally I recognize her voice. I look up, and sure enough, it's Terri crouching down and leaning over me!

Though my call to Uncle Arnie was nothing but strange, maybe his postcard was right about taking a step! I only took the bay leaf bath five minutes ago, and here's Terri hanging out with my dad in the kitchen! I haven't even slept on my pillow yet, and the potion is already pushing Dad away from Paige. Yes!

“Terri, hi!” I say, probably too excited, as I stand up and fix my nightgown. “We already had dinner, but do you want some dessert? Our ice cream's kind of old and frosty, but Dad could go buy some.”

“No, no,” Dad says. “Terri's only here to get a pot she lent us.”

A pot? Uh-oh. The last pot I used ended up in the trash.

“Why did you lend us a pot?” I ask.

“Your dad and I made beef bourguignonne, remember? And the pots you guys had here were…”

“Crummy,” Dad says.

“But the beef bourguignonne was good,” Terri says with a smile.

“What's beef blah-blah-blah?” I ask, not remembering a dinner with a name like that—a dinner that needed a special pot. A pot that no longer exists.

“We ate it over noodles. It's like a French beef stew.” Terri takes in some short breaths. “It actually smells a little like…”

Dad sniffs too. “What
is
that smell?”

I'm not ready to answer that, so I scramble. “Just your darling daughter!”

“No, that's not it.” He gets closer to me and breathes in deeply. “Were you playing with Toby in your room?”

“Um…yeah.” At least I'm being honest there. I did pet Toby several times while I was typing up the potion.

“It's not skunk,” Dad says, sniffing. “It's more like…stew.”

I've got to wrap this up—and fast. “Oh well, I'll make sure I shower before school. Good night, Dad. I'll put the dishes away in the morning.” I kiss him on the cheek and zoom down the hallway, shouting, “Good to see you, Terri!” as I go.

“Wait!” Dad shouts. “Come here!”

I stop. I turn around slowly and go back. But I stand as far away as possible, on the other side of the doorway.

“I wanted to tell you: I looked up your uncle's quote,” Dad says. “It's from Lao-tzu.”

“Where's that?”

“It's not a place; it's a person. A Chinese philosopher.”

That
is
pretty interesting, but as much as I'd like to spend time talking about Chinese philosophy and helping Dad and Terri get closer, right now I need to stay far away from their questioning noses. They haven't even started to talk about how red I am. That's bound to be next.

“That's cool, Dad. Thanks. See you in the morning. See you later, Terri!”

I wave. Terri waves back. And as I walk away, I hear her say, “That brother of yours is quite a character, isn't he?”

If only Terri knew!

I get to my room and jump into my bed. I want to fall right to sleep, but my mind is racing. Not only do I need to dream about Larry not liking me, I need to dream about Dad not liking Paige too. Kill two birds with one bay leaf bath, and everything will be solved!

All I have to do is fall asleep. It's what the potion says to do. But I still can't. My nose is filled with the smell of bay leaves. An hour or so ago, I didn't know what they were; now I'll never forget them.

My clock keeps tick-tick-ticking. This is getting serious now. I've got to fall asleep and I've got to dream…about the last people I want floating through my mind: Paige and Larry.

Eventually I fall asleep, and I dream for sure. There's a boy, but I don't think he's Larry because he has blond hair. Maybe it's Ryder Landry! I don't quite see his face, but he's wearing a knit beanie, so there's a good chance it's him. “Cleo, you're the girl for me,” he says, taking my hand in his. I should be excited, but even in a dream I'm embarrassed. Then he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it…or is he licking it? That's weird. And gross. Why is Ryder Landry licking my hand?

I open my eyes and look down my arm.

Ryder Landry isn't licking my hand.

Toby is!

I pull my hand away and give it a sniff. Yep, I still smell like bay leaves.

“Cleo, we're late!” Dad shouts from the front of the house.

Oh no! I jumped into bed so fast last night I forgot to set the alarm. And Dad probably started reading again after Terri left and he fell asleep too!

As fast as I can, I hop from under my covers and hit the floor. “I have to take a shower!”

“No time!” Dad yells. I look at my clock and growl. He's right. It's way too late. “Throw on some clothes and let's go. I'll give you money for lunch!”

I pull on the first clothes I see and run to meet Dad at the car, hoping that lunch isn't stew today. I've had enough of that.

On our drive to school, we spot Red Shorts on a neighborhood street, reading his newspaper and walking quickly, as usual. Dad rolls down his window and says, “Beautiful day, huh?” Red Shorts nods, smiles without showing his teeth, and keeps walking.

“Does he ever stop?” I ask as Dad rolls up the window.

“I've never seen him stop,” Dad says. “It's kind of a sad story, actually. At least from what I've heard. Who knows whether it's true or not.”

“What?” I lean in. This could be interesting.

“Well, people say he and his wife used to walk together every once in a while. When she passed away, he couldn't stand being in his house alone, so he started to walk more and more, and now that's all he does.”

I'm amazed. “He doesn't eat or sleep or go to the bathroom?”

Dad laughs. “He must do all that, but I don't know. All I know is that every time I see him, he's walking.”

“Yeah, me too.” It's hard to believe it's possible to love someone so much that it makes you walk and walk and walk. I don't like walking that much, so I'm fine if I never fall in love like that.

When Dad and I arrive at the parking lot at school, he surprises me by pulling into a space instead of stopping by the curb. Even worse, he takes off his seat belt!

“What are you doing?” I ask. It's bad enough to have your dad drop you off at school and for people to see if his hair is messy or he's wearing goofy glasses or he says something dumb like “Catch ya on the flip side,” whatever that means. I don't want him
hanging out
here!

“I'm meeting a friend,” he says—and then I see her. Paige! She's sitting on a bench by the entrance to the school, wearing her tight-fitting, expensive yoga pants and matching jacket. Lifting a large paper cup, most likely coffee, to her lips and taking a sip. Leaving a red lipstick stain, I'm sure, on its plastic lid. Dad can't possibly intend to stay and
sit
with her right in front of the school—can he? When Terri was just at our house last night?

I try to walk ahead, but Dad keeps the exact same pace so we're walking together. Not cool. Then I see it—on the bench on the other side of Paige.
Another
cup of coffee!

A coffee date at your child's school? This is the worst parenting ever.

Terri would never do something so ridiculous. She knows better. She shows up for appropriate school events like plays and art shows—not dates.

“Have a good day,” Dad says to me as he takes a seat with Paige.

“Nice to see you, Cleo,” Paige says, her white teeth perfect, especially against that red lipstick, which is not smudged at all.

“Yeah, you too. Bye,” I mumble, then zoom into the courtyard, hoping that no one has seen this offensive display. I stand outside our classroom door, scanning the room for Madison before I go in.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “
What
is going on in front of the school?” I'm startled at first, but it's exactly who I was hoping to see.

“Oh my gosh, Madison, thank goodness. We have
got
to talk—”

She interrupts. “What is that smell?”

So it didn't fade at all on the way to school. Great.

“It's a potion I made last night, trying to reverse everything.”

Madison's eyes get big and bright. “Did you use your love potion? Finally?”

“No, I didn't,” I tell her, “but I really, really wanted to.” She laughs when I tell her about calling Uncle Arnie and the wacky lady at his house, and about my hot and stinky bay leaf bath. “I guess it
was
kind of funny,” I admit, “but it didn't work. Dad still likes Samantha's mom. At least enough to have a coffee date. Yuck.”

Madison looks thoughtful. “Well…is that really so bad?” she asks.

Why would she say such a thing? She knows the plan! Dad and
Terri.

Madison leans in. “Does it really matter who your dad falls in love with, as long as he's in love and not so sad anymore?”

I can understand why she thinks that. But I know how it's wrong, and I know exactly how to explain it to her. “It's like that Ryder Landry song,” I say.
“You don't want just anyone. You only want your only one. The one who always stuns, the one who never runs, the one who's there for fun. The one who will be by your side forever…”

Madison joins in.
“The one who will turn on you never, never ever…”
She waves her hand in front of me. “Stop. I'm going to cry.” It's true; her eyes are a little bit watery. “Are you sure Terri is your dad's
Only One
?”

“For sure!” I say. “How could I go on with my life, all normal, when I know that he's supposed to be with her but ended up with Sam's mom because of me? I mean, I tried to make that happen once and I'm sorry I did. He didn't like Paige then and he
can't
like her now. They don't look right together. They don't
sound
right together. They don't have fun conversations and jokes. She's just…
there.
”

“Well then, we've got to get him together with Terri,” says Madison.

I agree. That's where he belongs.

She's definitely his
Only One.