Salvage

by Debbie Civil

Chapter 22

  Carmen slips into bed beside me. She’s tired but doesn’t want to go to sleep. It has been two days since Brent Harris attacked people at the Mary Masson boutiques. She’s sore and tired. But Carmen doesn’t make a good patient. I sigh, knowing that she is going to insist on staying up with me, I stretch and consider something.

  “Do you want to have a Harry Potter Marathon?” I haven’t given the serious a fair chance. The movies are incredible. Carmen introduced me to them yesterday. We just finished watching the last movie two hours ago. But I can watch them again.

  “No. Now, I’ll get you to watch Twilight,” she insists. No thanks. Vampires creep me out. I couldn’t imagine a life where I would have to drink the blood of defenseless animals.

  “Maybe I can pick the next movie,” I suggest. Carmen looks like she’s going to pout, but I glare at her. We can’t keep on watching her choices. It’s just not fair. The remote is by my pillow. I grab it and flick on the television. Immediately, the news comes into view. The headlines read, “A murdered reporter is laid to rest.” I told Detective Green about what Brent said about Ashley Webber. They must have gotten a confession out of my stalker because people are saying he killed her. The image changes to a woman with grey hair and sad blue eyes. She’s standing at the pulpit of a high ceiling church.

  “Ashley was beautiful. She smiled a lot and loved life. It’s a travesty that she will never see her children grow up. I can’t believe that she’s gone.” The footage cuts off as soon as the woman starts breaking down. My chest tightens and I feel like I’m drowning in sorrow. Ashley Webber paid the ultimate price for her sensational interview. I wished that things could have gone differently. Why did Adam have to do that stupid interview?

  “Let’s watch something else,” Carmen suggests. But I don’t change the channel. Maybe it’s because I feel like watching the news is some penance for my past mistakes. Maybe, it’s because I’m curious to see what everyone’s saying. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of hiding from the truth. Being clueless didn’t save me before. So I watch how the reporter’s friends and family members share anecdotes about her. Her mark on the world was a good one despite the fact that she nearly ruined my life. It’s nice to know that people aren’t going just to remember her as the woman who interviewed Adam Smith. She will also be the person that donated to charity, taught Sunday school classes, and volunteered at a soup kitchen. After the special is over, the news anchor talks about local news. It’s nice to hear some good news. A four year old getting rescued from the deep end of the swimming pool by his ten-year-old brother. I smile, and Carmen does as well. Then, the news shifts to our case. The image of Mary Masson’s repaired and bustling with customers makes me feel great. At least Brent didn’t steal this woman’s business. Someone survived his crimes.

  The door opens, and Mom walks in. She looks well- rested and a small smile appears on her face. The last two days have been hell for her. I feel terrible that the gossip sites have been obsessed with this story. But Mom isn’t the type to search her name online.

  “Hi girls,” she says, her face beginning to grow serious.

  “Hey,” I say. Carmen waves at her with her good arm. She’s staring at the T.V. screen. I follow her gaze to an image of the man in drag. The photo is comical. I’m guessing that it is an image captured by a security camera.

  “Who is this man?” the news anchor asks. “It’s none other than thirty-five year old private investigator and blogger Paul Williams.” The picture changes to a man with a beard and a receding hairline. He looks a lot better as a man. “I’m sure you’re wondering who Paul Williams was investigating. Jenny Love has the story.” The reporter Jenny love, is standing in front of an apartment complex. She’s young and beautiful with mousy brown hair and emerald green eyes.

  “The mystery has been solved. The man we all saw dressed in women’s clothing is thirty-five year old Private Investigator Paul Williams. What was he investigating? According to sources that want to remain anonymous, we have an answer. He’s investigating none other than Chelsea Philips. Apparently, Williams believed that she had something to do with the night that Vincent Philips and Otis Saint Paul were killed. He…” Mom snatches up the remote and shuts off the television. She’s right; this won’t do me any good. Paul Williams isn’t alone. I’m positive that a percentage of the American people believe that I’ve gotten away with murder. I can’t prove otherwise. At least the people that really matter know the truth.

  “Chelsea, I really need to talk to you,” Mom says. She’s weary, which makes me feel nervous. I sit up and tug my legs up to my stomach and wrap my arms around them. What is Mom going to say?

  “What is it?” I ask, my heart pounding. I don’t want another discussion about why I shouldn’t marry Peter. As far as I’m concerned, I can’t wait until Saturday.

  “Chelsea, I’m leaving your father,” she announces. The news isn’t surprising. I nod, expecting as much. “I need money for a good lawyer. I…”

  “How much?” I ask, knowing that this is difficult for her. All of her life, Mom has been providing for me. Now, she’s forced to ask me for money because she has nothing.

  “I don’t know. My first consultation is tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Do you need me to come?” I don’t want Mom to face this alone. Mom looks momentarily surprised, before a wide smile spreads across her face.

  “Oh Chelsea, Thanks but there are some things that a mother needs to do alone.” I smirk at her, and she kisses my forehead before leaving. Eli and Danny barge in here five minutes later with takeout bags. Tia’s playing with Alec so I know that she won’t be around until later. Rain and Grace are in Elmview. For obvious reasons, Rain and her family don’t like hanging around the mansion. This is going to be the longest week of my life because Peter is also in Elmview, spending the last week of his unmarried life with his family. He’ll come over for a few hours. But then, he’ll leave, and I’ll be all alone. I can’t wait until the big day arrives.

  “I hope you girls are hungry,” Eli says. “We have tons of unhealthy junk in here.” Eli’s right. In the bags are burgers, buffalo chicken wings, French fries, onion rings, fried dough, and chocolate chip cookies. We sit at the round table and eat until we are too full. Danny runs out to give the leftovers to Tia and Alec. When she returns, we cuddle up in my big bed and watch all of the movies in the Twilight series. Carmen is very persuasive.

  The next two days begin and end the same. Carmen waking me up, us watching the news, and Eli and Danny bringing junk food. By Thursday, Mom has had enough of our antics. She insists I get showered and dressed. In fact, it seems like I’m being rushed. I change into a pink sun dress and all of us girls climb into the limo. The new Limo driver is Zack, a friendly man with chocolate brown skin and a killer smile. We all climb in, even Tia, who never skips bonding time with Alec and we are pulled away. Mom and Carmen exchange a look. I want to ask them what’s going on, but don’t bother. We are probably going on a shopping trip. After an hour, I begin to doze off. When I wake up, someone’s shaking my shoulders. My eyes pop open, and I stare into Rain’s smiling face.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Want to use my bathroom before the road trip?”

  “Sure,” I say. We are the only ones in the car. She plops down on the seat and grimaces. Her leg is still sore. I feel awful. My bladder is screaming at me to get moving. I rush from the car and bolt into Rain’s house. There is a line for the bathroom. I resist the urge to jump up and down. Instead, I lean against the wall in the kitchen by the store stove wait. Four girls later, I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and exit the house. All of my bride’s maids are in front of the limo. They are snapping pictures of one another. When Eli spots me, a cheer rings out. I smile wide at them before joining them for pictures that Rain’s father takes. When it’s all over with, we pile into the limo. I sit between Rain and Tia. As soon as the limo moves, Eli starts handing out drinks from the mini fridge. I guzzle a can of
Mountain Dew and sigh. This is a bachelorette road trip. I wonder where we are going.

  “Who planned this?” I ask Rain. She smirks.

  “Carmen called me yesterday, asking if we’re doing a bachelorette party for you. I had no idea what to do. And she gave me this idea. You know, Donald left earlier to go on a bachelor party with Peter. It’s a camping trip. They won’t get back until tomorrow. Just in time for the rehearsal dinner.”

  “I can’t see him until tomorrow,” I whine. Rain laughs.

  “Oh, Chelsea, it will be okay. It will be two days, and then you’ll spend time with Peter for the rest of your life.” With Rain’s words in my mind, I relax and talk to everyone. Around noon, we stop at Wendy’s. Since we have drinks, Zack goes through the drive through and orders sixteen chicken go wraps, twelve double stacks, and nine large orders of french fries. It takes about ten minutes to get our order together. I’m sure there is a lot of pissed of people. Carmen is charged with passing out the food. He continues driving. It’s not until we hit Rhode Island that I realize we have left the state. Eating is great. I wolf down two chicken go wraps and one double stack, plus an order of French fries. Everyone eats up. My mother actually eats two mini burgers and fries, the most I have ever seen her eat. Olivia seems confused by our dining choice. But she doesn’t complain. She’s too hungry for that. After all of the food has been devoured, which takes about an hour, Eli claps her hands.

  “Chelsea, have you guessed where we’re going?” Sadly, no. All I keep on thinking is that Peter is going to be gone for an entire day. This is a travesty. I miss him so much. We should have had a coed party. After being taken by Brent, I’ve come to the conclusion that life is short. I would rather spend every moment with Peter. Apparently, my bride’s maids have a different outlook.

  We spend the day in New London. First, they drag me to a salon where my hair is washed and trimmed. We then get manicures and pedicures. After that, the group of us eat dinner at an all you can eat Chinese buffet. I pile my plate with Crab Rangoon and Chicken Wings. After the restaurant, we go to a hotel and spend the night in the presidential suite. I share a room with Tia and Rain. The bed is big enough for the three of us. The events of the day have worn me out. But I still can’t sleep. Peter races through my mind. I can’t even call him. He has gone camping. I bet that he has no reception. I sit up, in bed, sandwiched between my two cousins and have no idea what to do. The clock on the bedside table reads 2:30 A.M. Great, what am I supposed to do? Everything in the hotel is closed. It’s not like I can escape down to one of the hotel’s restaurants. I see the faint outline of the television and yearn to turn it on. Tia and Rain may wake up. But what other choice do I have. Luckily, the remote is nestled in between Rain and I. I pick it up and turn the television on and quickly turn down the volume. There is nothing to watch at two in the morning. So I land on a rerun of “The Hills.” Why not? I watch T.V. until my eyes burn. I close my eyes and doze. The next thing I know, it’s time to get on the road. Carmen packed my bag, and I’m glad that she’ included black shorts and a white tank top and my favorite flip-flops. After I’m showered, changed, and packed, I enter the large open living room. Grace and Carmen are sitting on the leather couch. I smile at them before taking a seat in the recliner. It takes two hours for the girls to shower and change. It is almost eleven when we hit the road.

  We stop at a diner this time. And to be honest, I hate every moment. The burger and fries taste like cardboard, and the lemonade is watery. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’m Peter deprived. It sounds odd, but the closer I get to the wedding, the more desperate I am to see Peter.

  We arrive in Massachusetts two hours before the wedding rehearsal. When I get to my room, Peter is sitting at the round table. Despite the fact that Tiller is sitting beside him, I launch myself into Peter’s lap, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. Peter chuckles against my lips.

  “Well, hello. It’s nice to see you too, Chelsea,” Peter whispers after our kiss ends. I smile up at his handsome face, and everything in my world falls back into place.

  “Chelsea, I was hoping that we could talk before the rehearsal dinner,” Tiller begins. “I want to tell you something.” His eyes are filling with worry.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Dad isn’t going to your wedding. He doesn’t agree with what you’re doing.” I immediately feel hollow inside. My own father won’t be walking me down the aisle. How many girls have dreamed of the day when their father would give them away? Dad hadn’t always been nice to me, but he’s still my father. I want him to be involved in my life. The fact that he’s walking away after he’s done so much damage pisses me off.

  “Where is he?” I hiss. Peter begins to massage my shoulders which calms me down, slightly.

  “He’s in California. He flew out this morning,” Tiller tells me. So he makes sure that he’s out of dodge. I close my eyes and consider something. Who is going to walk me down the aisle? Tiller has to escort Grace. Jake is escorting Carmen. Nathan is escorting Eli. Craig is escorting Danny. Donald is escorting Olivia. Matt is escorting Tia. Rain and Malcolm are maid of honor and best man. My mother is supposed to be the beautiful woman watching from the front aisle. I close my eyes and consider what to do. I know that Rain’s father would love to walk me down the aisle. But he is a little bitter about the Philips family. And he doesn’t get along with my mother, even after he apologized. I’m not sure who to ask. Should I ask Uncle Kenny? I’ve known him for two years.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” Peter asks me.

  “Yes. I’m just thinking of who to ask.” Tiller frowns.

  “I figured that I could give you away.”

  “You’re supposed to be walking with Grace,” I argue, frowning in concentration.

  “Chelsea, we can find a replacement. Peter has plenty of cousins,” Tiller says.

  “Okay, then, that’s what we’ll do,” I reply, somehow feeling deflated. I know this is crazy. But I was hoping that if an older man walked me down the aisle, strangers wouldn’t know that my father doesn’t want to participate in my wedding. This day isn’t as joyous as I would have hoped. Peter kisses the top of my head, offering comfort. My heart squeezes for the love that I have for him. Peter cares about me. That’s obvious. I’m so lucky to have him.

  “I’m going to go find Grace,” Tiller says before walking out of the room. It’s then that everything just comes crashing down on me. The divorce, the trials, and now my father refusing to participate in the wedding. All of this is too much.

  “Baby, I don’t want Tiller to walk me down the aisle. I want my daddy to,” I cry.

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Peter whispers. I bawl into his shirt, and he rubs my back. We stay like that for a while. By the time I’m done crying, my head is killing me. It’s almost time to go to the wedding rehearsal, and I’m a mess. I take a quick shower and change into an off the shoulder black dress. I step out in the hallway and am enveloped in a bear hug. I smirk at Jake, who probably heard the news. We walk to the elevator together and when we get to the foyer I fake a smile when I see my friends.