On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 16

Beatrice announces, "I'm not a kid anymore; I don't need to be protected; I want to."

B looks at his father as though she's trying to persuade him to yield and give up. I don’t even know the issue that stood between them, but the tension inside was crippling. I stood firm and averted my gaze. I tried to leave but her father had caught a glance of me already. With a furious moan, she finally looks away, and her father motions her to leave without any more words. The door closes behind him and I watched Beatrice cautiously take a cigarette from the pack and spin it between her fingers with trepidation while her parents were out of sight and out of mind.

I have a strong desire to blame myself for placing her in this awkward position. She was plainly at war with her father as I entered, and that may have caused their conversation to be cut short. B looks away at the window, she looks like she’s considering her options.

“Do you want to go out for a while?” She spoke after putting out her cigarette, finally acknowledging my presence in the room.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere far. Just to drive around.”

“I don’t have a license and dad doesn’t allow me to drive at night,” I told her honestly. I only use our family car for emergency reasons and was strictly instructed never to drive someone else’s car until I could get a driver’s license. I’m not a stickler for rules, but I do follow them when it’s about my safety.

“I have mine,” I remember she was a few years older than me. She had gotten her driver’s license during the summer. “We could just tell my mom we’re going to buy some stuff for a school project.”

I hesitate. She was in an indifferent state of mind, quite unpredictable. But I wanted her to know she has my support in whatever she does to cheer her spirits up. I nodded and we made our way out of the room.

Just then, we came across James and Charles, who were heading to her room, as well.

“Your mom told us to come to fetch you. She needs greens, I think,” Charles greets.

“Perfect,” Beatrice answered in a blank tone, walking ahead of us towards the kitchen.

James and Charles looked at me, curiously.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She got into a fight with her dad, I think. She didn’t say much to me.”

“Sucks,” James comments.

We went into the kitchen where B had acquired the car keys and was currently listing down what to buy for her mother.

“Don’t forget that I want my snap peas to snap, okay? Don’t buy those crudely made, old stocks of snap peas.”

“I know, I got it,” She answers back with an indignant nature. Her mood wasn’t lifted at all. We stayed quiet as they continued talking.

“Where are you guys going?” Trixie suddenly appeared from out of nowhere.

“What’s it to you?” I raised my eyebrows at the brat who flipped me off.

Shocked, I looked at B and her mother, who wasn’t paying attention, and flicked Trixie’s middle finger. James glares at me and Charles swats my hand away.

“Seriously, Charlotte, all you can do right now is a quarrel with a 12-year-old?”

“She flipped me,” I say in shock. Okay, maybe I am acting a bit childish.

“I want to come with you,” Trixie announced as B and her mother finished their conversation.

“No,” was Beatrice’s short answer.

“Yeah, no,” I laughed, feeling avenged.

“Mom, I want to come with them.” She declares, hugging her mother’s thigh as her older sister rejects her.

“Honey,” B’s mom coaxes and I immediately hated the sound of that. I do not want that brat in the same car as me. I do not have enough patience to last through the night.

"Can you be ready at ten?" She asked, giving in to her mother’s request. Trixie nods, running off to her room to change out of her pajamas.

We waited on the couch in the living room. I frowned gloomily, irritated that I would have to spend more time with the brat than I had anticipated.

"I want you and Beatrice to keep an eye on her. I don't trust that Trixie. She tends to find herself in lots of trouble." B's dad said as we were about to leave.

Trixie slams the door shut behind me.

Glee radiates off of her little figure, and even though she has her back to me, I know her eyes are filled with joy, knowing she has spoiled my evening effectively. Brat.

We got in B’s dad’s BMW with Trixie jumping out of the passenger seat as I opened the door.

"What is the fork?" I exclaimed a little too loudly.

"I could ask you the same thing. This is my dad’s car. I am sitting in front." She answers with her arms crossed.

My eyebrows met in fury. I looked at Beatrice who was putting on her seatbelt and shrugged, telling me to just let it go.

I huffed as I went to sit beside Charles and James in the backseat.

I crossed my arms against my chest. I won't let her intimidate me into submission. I connected my phone to the car’s Bluetooth and played loud music which I knew she'd hate. She whips around to glare at me, her mouth set in an angry line, her eyes shining with unbridled fury.

"You can say whatever the fork you want when your father's not here, Trixie." I challenged her.

“Lottie,” B calls out my attention and I look at her innocently.

“Paramor is a staple, B. Don’t tell me you don’t like their music.”

She doesn't respond and Trixie whips her head back to the road and continues to ignore me. James just raised an eyebrow at me, shaking his head, and laughing.

“You are a child,” he whispers.

"It's not my responsibility to keep her brat of a sister happy, James. I'm sorry but her attitude is just not gonna fly with me." I whispered back to James, and he looked at me concerned.

"She's a kid, Charlotte. Let her off the hook, please," he says, begging for a peaceful night.

“So, where are we heading?” Charles attempts to break the icy tension.

“Off to the supermarket for some groceries. Then, I was hoping you’d know someplace peaceful to drive off to? Before we return home, I just need some fresh air.” She answers.

We went as planned and picked up the grocery items. Mrs. Baxter instructed Beatrice to buy, along with some junk food items.

After that, Charles sat in the driver’s seat.

“I know the perfect place to chill,” He proceeded to drive off to God knows where.

About fifteen minutes passed by in silence before the car stopped.

I was still pretty annoyed at Trixie for having come on the trip and I didn’t even bother participating in their conversations.

“Where are we?”

“On the outskirts of town. We used to go camping here every other weekend before my brother enlisted.” He explained.

We were at the top of a hill that overlooked the town and the city next to it. Lights from houses looked like stars from where we were looking.

“This is beautiful,” I observed as I got out of the car.

“Trix, don’t wander off,” Bea instructs, taking her sister’s hand.

We sat on the grassy land in silence. It was just us in that spot. It was peaceful and serene.

“Never knew this place existed. And so close, too,” Beatrice says as she takes out another cigarette from an almost empty pack.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted your talk with your father earlier, B,” I mumbled.

I sat next to her while Trixie was on her other side. James and Charles sat in front of us admiring the view.

“It’s okay. I was thankful for your interruption. Dad just never shuts up.”

“Your talk seemed serious. What was it about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing,” She answers and stays mum, obviously hesitating about telling me.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I reassured her, taking her free hand in mine and leaning on her shoulder.

Cigarette smoke puffs out and I cough away from her, which makes her chuckle.

“It was just about something I should be deciding on. Which college am I going to in the future? He was just being intrusive, as he usually is. He was really mad. I wouldn’t even hear about his college suggestions. As if I didn’t know he was there to force me to study in a community college or locally just so I could be within arm’s reach of them.”

"I could notice it from the way his nose was smoking, B," I told her and she snickered nervously.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” She laughs it off. I sympathized with her. She was always stuck between a rock and the wall when it came to personal choices because of her parents. "Where's James and Charles, anyways?"

I turned around to see they weren’t in front of us anymore. They were in the car, talking.

“It’s been half an hour,” She says, looking at her wristwatch. “I guess we should go. Mom’s brisket should be done by now.”

The drive home was as eerie as the drive towards the cliffside. Trixie had fallen asleep just as we arrived.

Feeling vengeful, I decided to spook her awake. She woke up screaming and Beatrice and the others who had gotten out of the car glared at me intensely.

“You just can’t let it go, can you?” James tells me, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t know she’d cry,” I held my hands up defensively.

Beatrice carries her sister to the inside of the house while Trixie continues to throw tantrums.

Charles, the gentleman he was, tries to pry her off B’s hands, as she was a heavy 10-year-old, but Trixie sobs even louder at his touch.

were Baxter’s patio and driveway at a longer walk than most houses as they were at the higher end of the town.

“She’s a kid, Charlotte. What did you expect?” Beatrice groaned as her sister’s feet threw kicks here and there.

Her whining must’ve been loud enough for Mrs. Baxter to come running down to meet us on the patio. Taking her youngest daughter in her arms, she looks at B disapprovingly.

“I told you to take care of your sister,” She spat out, walking back to the house at a faster pace as Trixie had calmed down in her mother’s arms.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I admitted defeat. The brat wins this time.

“I think that is exactly why Mr. Baxter doesn’t invite us often, Lottie,” James shakes his head at me.

B chuckles and I at least felt relieved that she wasn’t mad at me.

“At least you won’t have to face her at dinner, Char,” She says as we arrive on the doorstep. “She’ll surely be faceplanted asleep in her bed after that sobbing.”

“God, I hope so,” I groaned out a relieved sigh.

The dinner at the Baxters’ went on in silent grief. Mr. and Mrs. Baxter was visibly furious with Beatrice for God knows what. The talk mostly came from James, Charles, and me. The food was delicious, as always. Though the dinner did not last long. After about fifteen minutes, James and I had finished eating.

“You kids are welcome to use the pool anytime. Just swim with caution,” Mr. Baxter says after noticing James staring at the pool outside from the window.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. The November breeze is too strong for a dip.”

“The pool is heated.”

James immediately leaves the table upon hearing the sweet words from Mr. Baxter’s lips.

“Care for a swim, Lottie?” He asks.

“I’ll wait for B,” I tell him.

Charles followed James to the pool after he had finished eating as well. Beatrice supped on her soup solemnly, staring blankly ahead. By this time, her parents were also almost done eating.

“Beatrice, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play with your food,” Mrs. Baxter reprimands, which brings B’s perspective back to reality.

“Where’s James and Charles?” She asks, absent-mindedly.

"They're by the pool. You wanna go swimming?" I offered.

She shakes her head and declines.

“I'm not ready to get wet. I'll at least wait an hour after dinner.”

As she refused, we walked over to her bedroom, leaving her parents to clean up the table while they conversed quite seriously. I plopped myself on the bean bag in the corner of her room and entertained myself with magazines Bea had, which were mostly Vogue and Storm and such.

A few minutes passed and I heard a knock on the door. I stared at a napping Bea for a second, waiting to see if she'd answer. Then I felt like an i***t for waiting on a person who was asleep. So I decided to go to the door.

Then again, I wish I shouldn't have.