The room contained only a bed and a dresser. Nothing hung from the wall. A blank canvas.
“We can paint it any color you want. Hang curtains you like, get a headboard. Whatever you want or need.”
Misti’s bags sat next to the bed. A wave of fear crashed over her. “Okay,” she said, almost choking on the word.
“Mary,” Mr. McGrath emerged from the other end of the hall. The master bedroom, Misti assumed. He had dressed in different clothes. He was on his way to work. “Why don’t you let her have a few minutes to herself? Let her take a nap? I haven’t been on a bus in a long time, but I’m sure they’re about as restful now as they were then.”
“Oh, of course!” Mrs. McGrath looked startled and a little embarrassed that she hadn’t thought about that. “You take as long as you need. I’ll be downstairs.”
Misti managed a smile before stepping into the room and closing the door. She listened on the other side as they moved down the stairs in their socks. She heard murmuring, but could not understand it. Misti took off her sweater and let it plop to the floor. Her mother had not insisted on a clean floor. Instead, she was the one who had picked things up. She touched the bedding and stroked the soft fabric for a moment, forgetting where she was for a second. She lifted the covers and slid into the bed and felt as if she were on a cloud. The sleep that had eluded her for the past several weeks found her now.
Three
New Chance
Misti sat up with a jolt. The afternoon sunlight hit the window, casting a tranquil autumn glow. It took a moment for her to recall where she was and steady her mind. She drew a couple deep breaths and let go of the blankets in her grasp. Her hair was sticky and her clothes clung to her. She studied the clock on the bedside stand. 3:52. Oops. She had slept away most of the day.
And she was ravenous. Misti swung her feet to the floor, noting the lush carpet. She laid the blankets back over, attempting to recreate the hotel-like folds. It didn’t look half bad. Didn’t matter. She would be crawling back into bed in a few hours. It would just get messy again. The reason her mother said they never made the beds. She gave the same excuse for not doing dishes. Or laundry.
Misti looked into the mirror on her dresser and grimaced. Her dark makeup and hair were a wreck again. At least the dark circles under her eyes had faded. Turning to the denim bag she had brought with her, she dug out her hairbrush and a smaller patchwork bag. She opened the door and listened. She could pick up the murmur of the TV downstairs. Missing one sock, she cut across to the bathroom and closed the door. She needed to take a shower, but she chose to wait until before bed.
Misti brushed her thick wavy hair before getting out a makeup wipe. She cleaned off her makeup and hesitated. She had never considered herself an ugly girl. She thought she had a nice nose. But she never saw herself as pretty. At her other schools, she just blended in. She avoided having an issue with others. She enjoyed playing the part of an anonymous background character.
Her mother always encouraged the dark makeup and edgy demeanor. A few months before, her mother tried cutting off all her hair to give her a pixie cut. Misti refused to let her. It was an ugly fight. Misti winced, her dark eyes finding the few chunks of hair that were a little shorter than the rest.
Instead of reapplying the dark makeup, she opted for only a little eyeliner and some mascara. She didn’t recognize herself. And she actually liked that. Maybe Ms. Webb had been onto something back in the locker room. Perhaps here she could rediscover herself, reinvent herself. Instead of being the new girl or the quiet girl or the girl with the crazy mom…. Misti sighed. Here she would be the poor girl living with her aunt and uncle. Girl with a crazy mom might be better.
Tucking the brush and makeup bag under her arm, she stepped back to the door and opened it to meet a girl her age standing on the other side, hand lifted to knock.
She was taller than Misti, with red-brown hair curled just perfectly at the ends. She was slim, with broad shoulders and well-built thighs. She had her mother’s eyes and her father’s nose. This must be her cousin, Penny. Misti had a flash of memory. She and Penny playing dress up in the bathroom, pretending to be princesses. They had had so much fun. 17 year old Penny still looked the wide eyed girl in the purple princes dress. Just grown up. Misti wondered how much she had changed?
“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but Mom wanted me to check on you and see if you were up yet and hungry at all.” She spoke quickly. Nervous. “I’m Penny, by the way, your new roommate!” She giggled at her own joke, flipping her hair.
Misti attempted to smile. She had once read about ways to make people like you. Smiling was important. It hurt her face to try.
“I could eat,” Misti said. “I just need to put these away.”
“Oh, here!” Penny stepped past her into the bathroom and opened a drawer. It was empty. “I made room for you. I needed to clear out a bunch of ancient junk anyway. I still owned butterfly hair clips!” She rolled her eyes at herself, adjusting her hair in the mirror.
A drawer and a bedroom. This might not be the worst place in the world.
“Thanks,” Misti said, depositing her brush and her makeup back into the drawer.
“Mom made some cookies,” Penny said, heading for the stairs. Misti followed, realizing halfway down that she still wore only one sock. She stopped and yanked it off and set it down on her boots. Next to her coat hung a dark jacket and a backpack. Penny’s things. Uncle Bill’s coat was gone.
“Ah! You’re awake! Are you hungry? I made some cookies.” Aunt Mary pointed to an oval plate of cookies, arranged in a perfect pattern with equal sized cookies all around. Penny hopped up on one of the bar stools and picked up two cookies. Misti sat and lifted one cookie. “Milk?” Both girls nodded. The cookie was delicious.
“Are you feeling refreshed? How did you like the bed?”
“It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever slept on!” Misti said after swallowing her cookie with a gulp of milk. The milk wasn’t close to being expired. Aunt Mary beamed. “I’m sorry I slept all afternoon; I know you wanted to get some things done.”
“Don’t be silly. We can get you registered tomorrow. I don’t have to work until 10 on Wednesdays.” Aunt Mary topped off both their milks and returned the glass bottle to the fridge. Misti looked at Penny, who offered her an encouraging grin.
“Penny also advised me that you’re seventeen and don’t need someone to help decorate your room if you don’t wish it. And that you possibly have your own decorations to hang up.”
Misti worried about her suitcases upstairs. They held all the clothes she owned. Most of those had been tired when she bought them at the thrift store; she would need new ones soon. There was her sketchbook, her pencils, and charcoal. A couple pictures. A few movies and a few books. Nothing to hang on the walls. She had never been in one place long enough to hang items on the wall.
“You could help me if you want. I don’t have much.” Misti looked at her glass and blushed.
Mary seemed to perk up again and smirked at her daughter. “Well, supper is already in the crockpot, so let’s go get you unpacked and see what we’re working with. You coming, Penny?”