by Jessica Park
Erin reached for the container of ginger noodles. “I have to go to the office tonight, too. I’ve got mountains of work ahead of me, and I still have to finalize the syllabus for the classes I’m teaching this semester. My apologies, Julie. And, Matt , classes start next week for you, too, so you should get a jump-start gathering materials for your independent study. I’m sure you could find something more challenging than the last set of articles I saw you reading.” She frowned at him.
Matt remained expressionless, as he had through most of the meal. “Sure. I’d love to.” There was an edge to his voice that momentarily silenced the table.
Erin set her fork down. “Matthew, don’t sulk. One of those articles you were fussing over had been published in some unheard-of journal, and it was beneath you.”
“Maybe Julie can help Matt?” Celeste suggested.
Julie looked across the table and smiled at Celeste. The thirteen-year-old was breathtaking, and Julie found it impossible not to be drawn in by her appearance alone. She looked like one of those pitiable children forced to don ridiculous wings and pose for angel-themed calendars. But with that long blond hair that fell in wild waves and penetrating blue eyes, Celeste was positively… Well, ethereal, appropriately enough.
“Celeste, I’m sure Julie has zero interest in helping me root through online article databases,” Matt said. “Not everyone finds the American Institute of Physics as titillating as I do.”
“Oh!” Celeste clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling laughter. “Matt said a bad word!”
“I said titillating, not tit.”
“Now you said a bad word!” Celeste squealed.
Erin sighed loudly. “Matthew, is that necessary?”
“It’s just a little dinnertime social intercourse, Mom. Nothing to get upset about. Besides, you’re the one who’s prone to flinging around terms like penal system, rectify, and annals of law.”
“Matthew! That is enough!” Erin spoke loudly in order to be heard over Celeste’s stream of giggling. Erin wrinkled her forehead in disapproval, but Julie detected the beginning of a smile. “Celeste, get control of yourself.”
Julie had to bite her cheek to stop Celeste’s laughter from rubbing off on her. “Anyway, I’m sure I would be more of a hindrance to Matt than a help. Maybe after I get a semester of college under my belt.”
Celeste, who had managed to compose herself, studied Julie’s face. “You look too smart to be going to Whitney.”
“Good God, Celeste!” Erin said sharply. “Julie, I apologize. I don’t know what is going on with this dinner.”
Julie laughed. “It’s OK. I’ll take it as a compliment. I know that Whitney isn’t the most prestigious school.”
“How did you choose Whitney?” Roger asked. “You’re pretty far from home. Is there a program there that you’re very interested in?”
Julie didn’t know how to answer this. She was aware that studying at Whitney probably wasn’t looked at with high regard by the Harvard/MIT/Laboratory for Microbial Oceanography crowd at the table. “I guess I just wanted to try something new. Move to a big city. And to be honest, I didn’t get in to some of the other places I applied,” Julie admitted. “Even though my grades and test scores were good, my high school’s reputation probably didn’t carry much weight with admissions offices. I did get into a few other schools that would have been great, but I didn’t get the financial aid I would need. I’m going to have big loans to pay off as it is.”
“Whitney is a good school,” Erin reassured her. “The college admission process is nearly impossible to navigate. And you can always transfer to another school if you do well at Whitney.”
“Did you pick your classes yet? I could help you,” Celeste offered. “I read through the entire online course catalog when Finn was at Brandeis. He majored in creative writing and minored in journalism.”
Julie smiled. “I have to register on Friday, and I would love your help.”
Celeste was petite, with more her father’s build than Matthew, and her round face hadn’t yet slimmed down with age. And despite being obviously bright and overly articulate, there was something very immature about her. The light green pinafore-style dress that she had on looked more appropriate for a second-grader than a teenager. Julie would never have been caught dead in something like that, and she could only imagine how well it went over with Celeste’s fellow students.
But what struck Julie the most about Celeste had to do with what—or who?—was in the chair next to her.
“Oh, Julie! I didn’t introduce you properly, did I?” Celeste chirped happily and then turned to the seat next to her. “Flat Finn, this is Julie. Julie, this is Flat Finn.”
Erin poured herself some sparkling water, and Roger continued daydreaming about brine, but Julie was sure she heard Matt catch his breath. She eyed the seat again.
Frankly, she’d been hoping to get through dinner without addressing this issue.
No one else had mentioned anything so far, but this must be what Matt had started to tell her about: A life-size cardboard cutout of their brother Finn leaned stiffly angled against the chair, his gaze fixed rigidly on the ceiling’s light fixture.
The funny thing was that—even with the fixed stare—Flat Finn was undeniably cute. Hot, actually, which Julie knew was inappropriate to think considering that, except for the flat cardboard form, he had a lot in common with a deflated blow-up doll. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the real Finn in the snowboarding picture, but in this large picture version she saw perfectly mussed-up blond hair, an athletic, ruddy complexion, and a lean but muscular build.
Finn was decidedly adorable. Even in pancake form.
Julie looked across the table and tried not to pause too long before speaking. “It’s very nice to meet you, Flat Finn. I thought you were traveling.”
Celeste wrinkled her nose. “Finn is the one who is traveling. Right now he is volunteering at a game reserve for rescued animals. This is Flat Finn. He is a symbolic representation of my brother.”
OK, this was obviously not normal. In fact, it was downright weird. But Julie was a guest in their home, and she would be as polite to this Flat Finn thing as she was to the rest of the family. “In that case, Flat Finn, would you like some basil and lemongrass duck?”
Celeste quickly shook her head. “He already had dinner. He is experimenting with not eating after five o’clock because he suspects that he can improve his metabolism and get more cut. His word not mine. He is quite interested in women, though, and he thinks he would have better luck if he could just get rid of his tiny love handles.” She rolled her eyes, whispering, “I know, it is beyond outlandish. He looks good just the way he is.”
“I admire his self-control,” Julie said. “See if I can pass up hot fudge sundaes at midnight.”
Celeste glanced at Flat Finn. “He does not approve. But I think that he is just jealous because you have such a naturally svelte figure.”
“If Flat Finn loses what he perceives to be love handles, I’ll reward him with a one-time double sundae.”
“Deal. But Mom better not sneak him any Oreos. Those are his favorite treat.”
“I promise.” Erin held up her hand, palm outward, pledging not to serve cookies to her son’s unresponsive twin.
Julie shrugged to herself. She didn’t particularly care about Flat Finn’s presence. If everyone wanted to act as though it was perfectly ordinary to hang out with a flat, replicated family member, it was fine by her. After all, he was polite, not at all bad to look at, and didn’t hog more than his fair share of the Thai dumplings. Granted, his conversational skills were lacking, but he was probably just shy around new people…
Look, everyone has a few psychological idiosyncrasies, right? Julie reasoned. She probably had a few, and this was Celeste’s. Hell, there were worse things than this. Maybe not more bizarre, but there were worse. Probably.
“Julie, guess where Finn is right now?” Celeste asked excitedly.
“Antarctica?”
“No.”
“Syria? Mongolia? New Zealand? Tallahassee? No? Must be Boise then.”
“There are no game reserves in Boise. At least, not that I know of. He is in South Africa. The Eastern Cape, right by the Indian Ocean. He sent me pictures of antelopes yesterday and said that next time he will send a picture of a white tiger. They are very rare.”
“Very cool,” Julie agreed. “How long is he gone for?”
“That is unclear,” Celeste said. “He has been going all over the world for months now, and he still has a long list of places he wants to see. He finds jobs and charity work wherever he goes, so he is not just some spoiled brat on a permanent vacation. He might even climb Kilimanjaro.”
“That sounds terrifying,” Erin said. “I’m not one for heights myself, but Finn is certainly qualified. He climbed Denali and Rainier.”
“Really?” Julie said. “That’s impressive.”
Matt coughed, and made a show of reaching across the table for another carton of food.
“He did. I will show you those pictures later, too,” Celeste said.
Erin smiled. “Finn is our adventurous child. When he was eight years old, I came home from work one day to find him at the top of the telephone pole outside our house. The babysitter was talking on the phone and failed to notice that her charge had scaled up forty feet. I fired her, obviously, and when I asked Finn what had possessed him to do that, he told me that he’d been hoping to see into Ellie Livingston’s bedroom window.”
“Trying to peek at a girl in his class?” Julie guessed.
Erin laughed. “Her mother, actually. Mrs. Livingston heard about this and was flattered. She sent a tray of cookies over with a thank-you note. Finn was such an interesting child. ” Erin dabbed her mouth with her napkin, her fingers clenched tightly around the cloth, and stood up. “I hate to run, but I really should get going.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Roger said. “It’s a beautiful night. I should be done around eleven. Will you be ready then?”
“Perfect. Julie, you’re welcome to use the car tomorrow to look at apartments. The keys are hanging in the kitchen. We both leave early for work, so we’ll see you at dinner? And I’d love to hear more about how your mother is.” Erin pushed her chair in. “OK, good night, everyone.”
Erin and Roger vanished faster than you could say Type A personality, leaving Julie and Matt alone with Celeste and Flat Finn.
Matt backed his chair up and looked wryly at Julie. “Interesting enough for you?”
Chapter 4
Julie studied Celeste’s face, watching her peruse through the Whitney course catalog. They’d been on the couch together for the past half-hour, weighing the pros and cons of the classes that Julie had to choose from. It was odd the way this thirteen-year-old was glued to the course listings. But the truth was that she’d been surprisingly helpful in figuring out a college schedule. Julie was even starting to get used to her rather formal style of speech.
The house was chilly now, with the central air on full blast, and Celeste pulled a light blanket over her lap. Julie adjusted her computer that sat on her lap and rested her fingers on the keys. She peered at Celeste’s scrawling in the book. “So which English class am I taking? The eight-thirty one?”
“No. English is at ten on Tuesday and Thursday, and Introduction to Psychology is at noon Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Write down these course numbers.” Celeste pointed to the page and waited as Julie typed. “See, you have to be totally prepared on Friday morning, or you will not get the schedule you want. At least you get to register online and avoid waiting in a line with lots of annoying people.”
“So you think all my fellow students will be annoying? I was hoping to make friends, but now I don’t know…”
Celeste snapped the book shut. “Normal people can become very annoying if put in annoying situations.”
“That’s true. Then you’re right. I’m glad I’m registering from home.”
Celeste leaned her head back against the couch. “Did you have lots of friends at home? What about a boyfriend? I bet you have a boyfriend. Is he very handsome?”
“I still have lots of friends at home. They didn’t evaporate when I left. I just won’t be seeing them as much now that I’m in Boston. I used to have a boyfriend and, yes, he was cute, but he was also a brainless pain in the neck.”
“Do you have pictures of everyone?” Celeste asked.
“Of course.” Julie opened her photo program and scrolled through albums until she found a set of pictures from August. “These are from my going-away party. My mom threw a barbecue in our backyard.”
“You had a big party? It looks wonderful,” Celeste said breathlessly.
“Yeah. Hot dogs, congealed macaroni salad, a cake with my name misspelled, the whole works. OK, there I am with Kristen and Mariam. And here’s one of Amy and my mom.” Julie scrolled through countless pictures while Celeste demanded details on nearly everything.
“Do you have a picture of your father?”
Julie continued pulling up photos. “Nope. He was away on business. But he did send me the most technologically advanced phone there is as a gift. And he called during the party. Oh, here’s the cake. Cute, huh?”
“Who’s that? You had a band playing? Is that your boyfriend? Your dress is very pretty.” Celeste wanted every detail. “Where did you buy that? How did you get in and out of it? Your boobs look huge! No wonder you had a boyfriend!”
“First of all, the dress is not that tight. It’s fitted. And my boobs look regularly-sized. And we’re not talking about my boobs. But, yes, the party was really fun. I didn’t want anything too fancy, so it was perfect. So what kind of birthday parties do you have?” Julie asked.
Celeste looked straight ahead, seemingly transfixed by something on a shelf. “I do not really do parties anymore. They never work out terribly well for me,” she said simply. “We have to show Flat Finn that red dress. He is going to love it! And the one of you at graduation. You look so happy getting your diploma.”
Celeste pushed the blanket aside and retrieved the cardboard cutout of her brother that she’d left by the piano in the small room off of the main hall. According to Celeste, Flat Finn loathed practicing scales, but he knew that Erin would never forgive him if he slacked off. Even cardboard brothers felt obligated to please their parents. Celeste entered the room carrying the cutout in front of her, eerily giving the impression that Flat Finn was able to glide around by himself. She stood him next to the coffee table near Julie and adjusted the panels by his feet that kept him standing, struggling to make him balance on the thick rug.
“Come on, Flat Finn!” she muttered, the wavering figure looming over her. She looked up to his head, her blond curls falling off her face and revealing the determination in her eyes. “Please!” she said with agitation. “You have to help out.”
She reached a hand up to his midsection, trying desperately to keep him vertical, but each time she seemed to find the perfect spot for the base flap, Flat Finn would lean precariously forward or backward, causing Celeste to tighten her free hand. Julie could see that the carpeting was not going to allow a successful outcome, and Celeste’s cheeks flushed as she became increasingly frustrated. Panicked, even.
“You have done this before, Flat Finn! You can do this!” she pleaded.
Julie watched the scene before her and wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into by stepping foot in this house. Celeste was looking rather frazzled, and it was hard to watch this kid in such a state, so Julie stood up and took Flat Finn by the shoulders. If everyone else was going to normalize this, she might as well hop on the bandwagon.
“You know what? Guys always like to lie down and just sprawl out. They’re lazy like that. I wonder if that’s what he wants.” Julie noticed Matt poised nervously at the far side of the room, clearly considering whether or not to intervene. He took a step forward. Julie shot him a look and he stepped back. “Besi
des,” she continued to Celeste, “Flat Finn can’t see the computer from up there. He should be on the couch with us.”
Celeste looked at Julie for a moment, and then her face brightened. “I think he would like that very much.”
Julie lifted Flat Finn from the nubby, unsuitable carpeting, swung him sideways into the air, and lay him on his side on the couch.
“Be careful,” Celeste urged from her crouched position on the rug.
“He’s fine. And there’s still room for us.” Julie took her seat again, leaving enough room behind her so that Flat Finn did not risk getting any flatter. “Just don’t lean back, or we’ll be in trouble. Come sit down and tell me which pictures he wants to see.”
Celeste rounded the table and sat down gingerly. She leaned her head over Julie’s lap, peeking at Flat Finn’s face jutting out from behind Julie’s back. “He definitely wants to see the red dress ones first. He could hear me talking about them and suspects that you look hot and sultry. Again, his words, not mine.”
Julie laughed. “Well, I suspect Flat Finn is a pervert, and he’s going to be disappointed, but he can see the pictures anyway.” Julie opened the photo and waited for an assessment. She did look cute that day, she had to admit. While the dress was a little low-cut and fell a few inches above the knee, it was also soft and flowing. She liked how the straps crisscrossed over her back and tied in a bow.
Celeste paused for a moment. “He is not disappointed. He thinks that you are beautiful, and that you should Facebook Finn.” She paused again. “He doesn’t mean that to sound as dirty as it does.”
Julie swallowed. “Flat Finn is on Facebook?” She’d love to see those status updates. Got strapped to the roof of the car today for a trip to Starbucks. Would have loved to taste caramel mocha, but can’t move arms and so was forced to stare longingly at delicious hot beverage. Will the taunting never end?