Destination Unknown

by Amy Clipston

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, Mom. The last thing I want to do is spend an evening with Brett.” I lifted the serving platters and followed her. “It’s so unfair.”

  “It’s not about you, Whitney. It’s about having friends over and having a good time. Brett is still your friend, right? You’ve known him a long time, and you move in the same circles.” She placed the glasses on the counter.

  “You’re not listening to me, Mom. How would you like it if I invited one of your ex-boyfriends over for dinner? Wouldn’t you be mortified?”

  My mom looked at me as if I were a silly child. “That’s preposterous. How could you invite one of my ex-boyfriends over? That would be impossible.”

  “That’s not the point!” Irritation bubbled inside me. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “Yes, I’m listening to you throw a tantrum like a child.” She pointed toward the dining room. “Now go finish dusting and then pull out the vacuum cleaner. I need to start cooking. The Steeles will be here at five for hors d’oeuvres. Oh, and wear that short-sleeved, blue dress with those pearls your grandma gave you. You always look stunning in that.”

  “Wait a minute.” I eyed her with suspicion. “This isn’t a friendly dinner at all, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and Mrs. Steele are trying to set Brett and me up again, aren’t you?”

  To my great surprise, Mom was speechless. I’d caught her!

  “Don’t do this to me, Mom.” I shook my head, and anger swelled inside me. “I will not date Brett just because you want me to. You can’t choose my friends.”

  “I’m not choosing your friends for you. I’m simply trying to keep your options open.”

  “You should really get to know Taylor and his family. They’re good people with good values. They’re hardworking and honest. And Taylor is nice to me. He treats me with respect. He’s a good friend, Mom. You’d know that if you gave him and his family a chance.”

  “We can talk about them later. Right now we have work to do before our company arrives.” She pointed toward the doorway. “Go finish dusting and start vacuuming.”

  “I can’t stand it when you dismiss me, Mom.” I raised my voice. “I won’t do this. I’ll go to my room and not come out. You can explain to Mrs. Steele why I’m not coming to dinner.”

  “You will not talk back to me, Whitney. You will do as I say, or I will take your car keys and your phone. Do you understand me? You’ll find yourself taking the bus to school, and you’ll be cut off from all of your friends.”

  I opened my mouth to shoot back another smart comment and then stopped. I couldn’t bear the idea of going to bed at night without Taylor’s nightly text messages. “Fine. I’ll do it, but I will not date Brett. Your little scheme isn’t going to work.”

  “We’ll just see about that.” She motioned toward the door. “Now get busy before I ground you. We have things to do.”

  I marched into the dining room and took deep breaths to try to calm myself. My mother had never done anything as manipulative as this, and I was furious. I knew I had to play the game or suffer the consequences of losing my car, my phone, and maybe even my freedom, but I wasn’t going to agree to any relationship with Brett beyond being polite to him this evening.

  My mother would not succeed at taking Taylor away from me. I would not allow it.

  Later that afternoon I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom and studied my reflection. I’d slipped into my blue dress and put on my pearls and matching earrings. My makeup was complete, and my hair was styled in one single french braid running the length of the back of my head and ending down near my collarbone.

  I wondered what Taylor would think if he saw me like this. Would he be moved to kiss me and ask me to be his girlfriend? Or would he tell me I looked like a rich snob who wouldn’t give him the time of day? Whatever, I still wished he and his family were the ones coming to dinner tonight.

  My mom’s heels clicked by the bathroom and headed for the stairs. “Hurry down, Whitney! The Steeles will be here soon.”

  I closed my eyes and begged God to help me get through the night.

  I opened the bathroom door, and an idea sprang to mind. Dad had helped me in the past when Mom became too overbearing, and I needed his help again. I wondered if he could possibly give me some pointers on how to get through this evening.

  I headed down the hall and found him standing in front of a mirror tying his tie in the master bedroom. I tapped on the doorframe. “Daddy? Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure, pumpkin. What’s going on?” He turned toward me. “You look lovely, Whitney.”

  “Thanks.” I smoothed my hands over my dress. “You look really nice too.” I’d always thought my father was handsome, especially when he wore a nice suit and tie.

  “What do you want to talk about?” He fixed the tie and then began to smooth his hair.

  “I’m really upset about this dinner tonight.” I leaned against the doorframe. “Mom is trying to set me up with Brett again, and I don’t want to date him. I’m really tired of Mom trying to make all of my decisions for me.” My voice sounded thick, and I hoped I wouldn’t cry. I didn’t want my mascara to run and show how upset I was. I couldn’t give Brett that advantage over me. I cleared my throat. “I don’t like Brett, and I’d rather not be anywhere near him.”

  Dad glanced over at me. “I talked to your mom a few months ago and told her to back off. I guess she’s at it again, huh?”

  “She is. In full force.”

  “I’m sorry you feel like Mom is pushing you too hard. I know she expects a lot of you. I’ll talk to her again.”

  “Thanks, Dad, but it’s not that she’s pushing me. She’s trying to control me. She’s already picked my activities in school, the college she wants me to go to, and the sorority she wants me to join. Now she’s picking the boy she wants me to date. Will she pick my husband and name my kids too?”

  He walked over to me. “I’m sorry you’re upset.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Your mom thinks she knows what’s best for you, but I realize it would be better if she just gave you suggestions and then let you decide.”

  “Exactly. She doesn’t like Taylor and his family, but he’s the boy I like, Dad.”

  My dad smiled. “I know you two like each other. It’s been pretty obvious in church.”

  “Really?” My heart fluttered.

  “Why don’t you go along with Mom’s little plan tonight. Just be cordial to Brett and his family but don’t make any promises to see Brett again after tonight.” He touched my cheek. “After the company’s gone and the dust settles, I’ll talk to your mom and ask her to back off with Brett.”

  I hugged him. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “Whitney Jean!” My mother’s voice called from downstairs. “Logan Charles! Get down here immediately. I need some help!”

  “You better go, Whitney. You know how your mom gets about these dinner parties.” He winked at me before I hurried down the stairs.

  I found my mother flittering around the kitchen while Logan grumpily set out a cheese tray.

  “Whitney!” My mother issued orders while checking the oven. “Get out the crackers, please, dear.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I was pulling out the fancy crackers and setting them on the trays when I heard the Steeles’ car pull into the driveway. I felt my body stiffen, and then a hand settled on my shoulder.

  “It will be fine,” my father whispered in my ear. “Just relax. I promise the evening will be over soon.”

  I looked up at my dad, and he winked at me again.

  The doorbell rang, and I hoped my mother wouldn’t send me to answer it.

  “I’ll get it.” My father moved to the door, and I was thankful.

  I asked my mom what I could do, and she directed me toward more hors d’oeuvres that needed to be set out on the island in the middle of the large
kitchen.

  Voices and laughter floated in from the front of the house, and I gnawed my lower lip. I longed to run from the kitchen and cower in the safety of my room, where I could text Taylor and tell him what torture my mother had designed for me. I planned to sneak up there later.

  “Hello!” Brett’s mother waltzed into the kitchen with a cake in her hands. “How are you, Darlene?”

  “Rhonda!” My mother rushed over and air-kissed her as if she hadn’t seen her in years. “What a lovely cake.”

  “Oh, I made it myself.” Rhonda joked, and my mother laughed.

  I squelched the urge to roll my eyes.

  My mother took the cake. “Oh, I love red velvet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. We stopped at the bakery on the way here.” Rhonda paused and inhaled. “Oh, Darlene. It smells divine in here.”

  “Thank you.” Mom gestured toward the kitchen table. “Have a seat. We’ll start out with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.”

  Rhonda’s eyes moved to me. “Whitney! Why you’re as pretty as a picture.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Steele.” I stepped over and let her hug me. Her hug was so tight, I lost my breath for a moment. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Oh yes, dear.” Rhonda touched my arm. “We’ve missed you.” Her sickeningly sweet perfume almost made me gag. “Brett has missed you too. He knows he made a mistake when he let you go.”

  “Really? I haven’t gotten that impression from my conversations with him.” I kept my expression innocent, but my mother shot me a warning glance from across the kitchen.

  “Logan!” Rhonda moved on to my brother, and relief flooded me.

  Brett and his father stepped into the kitchen with my father in tow. They both were dressed in suits and ties, which seemed ridiculous for a simple dinner. I longed for the warm and casual atmosphere of Taylor’s house. Enchiladas and chocolate-chip-cookie sundaes sounded divine to me.

  Brett’s dad, Edward, waved and then turned his attention to Logan, who brought up a sports topic. Brett looked at me, and I glanced down at the stove.

  “Mom,” I called. “Is it time to take the birds out of the oven?”

  “Not yet, dear.” Mom looked annoyed. “I have it all timed perfectly. We have twenty minutes for hors d’oeuvres, and then we’ll start with salad. Would you please pour drinks for you young people?”

  “Of course.” I was relieved to have something to do while my mother talked about mundane things with Rhonda and the men discussed sports. I handed Logan a Sprite and then brought a Coke to Brett.

  “Thanks,” Brett said, eyeing me. “You look nice.”

  I glared at him and then squared my shoulders and stood up taller. I knew I could survive this horrible dinner. Somehow.

  chapter fourteen

  Exactly twenty minutes later, the timer on the stove buzzed, and I was relieved to busy myself with readying the food for the table. Mom served the salads to the guests in the dining room while I prepared all of the serving trays.

  I began carrying the food into the dining room, and my stomach churned when I found the only empty seat left for me was next to Brett. I dismissed the idea of sitting in the kitchen and continued to bring the platters to the table.

  “Perfect!” My mom clapped her hands after everything was brought to the table. “Let’s pray and then enjoy this lovely meal.”

  Soon hands began passing around the serving platters, and the sound of utensils scraping dishes filled the air. The mothers eventually fell into a conversation about upcoming events planned for their women’s group, while the men continued talking about sports teams.

  I glanced around the table and didn’t spot my favorite Italian dressing. After excusing myself, I headed back into the kitchen and searched the refrigerator for the missing bottle of dressing.

  “So, how have you been?” Brett asked from behind me.

  I grabbed the dressing from the refrigerator and stood up straight. “I’m fine, thanks. You?”

  “I’ve missed you. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I’m sorry.” He gave me his best sad face, and I just had to laugh.

  “Why are you laughing at me?” He looked annoyed.

  “Brett, I’m certain you haven’t even noticed we broke up, since you didn’t notice me when we were dating.” I pointed the bottle of dressing at him. “You were never interested in me. You only wanted to date the captain of the cheerleading squad so you could put it on your activities list for college.”

  “What? You’re not making any sense, Whitney.” He leaned against the island in the center of the kitchen. “You’re different now. Even Kristin has noticed how you hardly talk to her or Tiffany. You don’t hang out with them anymore. What’s happened to you?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” I shrugged. “I guess I’m just figuring out who I am. People change all the time, so now it’s my turn.”

  “It’s your new boyfriend, right? He’s the reason you’re changing.” Brett’s expression was sarcastic. “Is he more exciting than I was? Do you like to ride through the neighborhood on the back of his rat bike?”

  I narrowed my eyes as animosity rushed through me. “If you’re referring to Taylor Martinez, then I should inform you he’s not my boyfriend. But yes, he’s much more exciting than you. He’s kinder, more thoughtful, and more supportive. Oh, and he’s also better looking.”

  Brett’s mouth fell open, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back. I’d finally gotten the big-shot captain of the football team to be quiet. Score one point for Whitney Richards!

  I hurried past him into the dining room and slipped into my chair. I was sprinkling the dressing over my salad when Brett returned and sat beside me.

  “Whitney.” Rhonda called my name, and I sat up straight. “Have you gotten yourself a date for the prom yet?”

  “No, I haven’t, Mrs. Steele.” I moved the lettuce around my plate.

  Rhonda raised her eyebrows and looked at Brett. “Did you hear that, Brett? Whitney doesn’t have a prom date, and neither do you.”

  I wiped my mouth. “It’s a little early to be thinking about prom, though. I mean, we have time.”

  “Not really, dear.” Mom shook her head. “It’s April. Prom is just around the corner. Pretty soon we’ll be out looking at dresses.”

  I pushed my salad bowl away and tried to think of something to say that would change the subject.

  Rhonda kept her eyes on me as I filled my dinner plate. “Your mom tells me you’re going to Kentwood.”

  “I was accepted, but I’m keeping my options open right now. I’ve been researching the academic programs at Kentwood, U, and State. I’m not really sure what I want yet.” I kept my eyes on my plate and knew I was embarrassing Mom by not confirming my choice of the prestigious school, but I resented her for planning this dinner.

  “Kentwood?” Edward chimed in. “Why, that’s very impressive, Whitney.”

  “Thank you.” I began cutting up my food. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father shift in his seat.

  “So, Eddie, how are things going at your orthodontist practice? I heard you’re doing some expanding?” Dad wiped his mouth and faced Brett’s father.

  I looked over at Dad and caught a smile that seemed to be aimed at me. Thanks for saving me, Daddy!

  My mother asked Rhonda a question about one of their mutual friends, and soon the adults were deep in conversation. I focused on my meal and tried my best to eat, even though my appetite had evaporated the moment Brett walked into the house.

  I kept my gaze on my plate for the rest of the meal, thankful that no one pulled me into a conversation. After everyone was finished with dinner, I helped my mom clear the table and began filling the dishwasher.

  Rhonda stepped into the kitchen. “What can I do to help, girls?”

  Mom pointed toward the coffeemaker. “Would you like to start coffee?”

  “I’d love to.” Rhonda began searching for the coffee in the cabinet. “Dinner was positively scrumptiou
s, Darlene. You really outdid yourself.”

  “Why, thank you.” Mom beamed.

  “We should do this again soon.” Rhonda found the coffee and filled the coffeemaker.

  I finished filling the dishwasher and wiped my hands. “I’m going to run upstairs for a minute, okay?”

  My mother eyed me. “Why, dear?”

  “I need to use the restroom. I’d like a little privacy.” I knew she couldn’t argue with that excuse.

  “Oh.” My mom nodded quickly. “Of course, dear.”

  I made my way through the doorway and hurried toward the stairs and up to my room. I grabbed my phone from the dresser and found a text waiting from Taylor. I smiled my first genuine smile of the evening.

  He said: Hey. How r u?

  He’d sent the message twenty minutes ago, and I hoped he was still near his phone.

  I sat on the edge of my bed and quickly typed: Wish u were here.

  I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and prayed Taylor would answer quickly. I was certain Mom would send Logan after me if I was gone more than a few minutes.

  My phone chimed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I swallowed a squeal when I spotted Taylor’s response: What’s up?

  I typed: Suffering through a nightmare dinner right now. Wish I were at your place having enchiladas and sundaes instead.

  Taylor quickly sent: Want me to come get u?

  I laughed to myself: Do I ever!

  “Talking to your boyfriend?” a voice asked.

  Surprised, I turned toward the door, where Brett stood in the doorway and smirked at me.

  “Did I startle you?” He stepped into the room.

  “No.” I locked the phone so that my conversation wasn’t visible.

  “What’s he saying to you?” Brett reached for the phone, and I held it away from him.

  “I wasn’t talking to Taylor.” I slipped off the bed. “I was texting Kristin back. She wanted to see if we could study together, but I had to tell her I was busy.”