In All Our Glory and Imperfections: Chapter 2

Chapter Two

   My name is Charlize Joanna Scarlotte. I'm eighteen years old, awaiting graduation from high school, and I work at a little German bakery in the middle of town. If you asked someone in town about me I imagine they would tell you that I was a very out-spoken girl, politely hinting, and you would catch on that most people though I was a b***h. Especially if you asked one of the numerous boys that had felt my wraith at school. If you asked my mother however, she would say that my most prominent flaw was my dislike for 'N Sync and their boy band brethren.

   Mom had spent half the drive home with one hand on the wheel and the other in the center console. I didn't know what she was digging for, but of course I was mortified when she pulled out a sticky old 'N Sync: Greatest Hits CD. I barely managed to make it home with "Girlfriend" (featuring Nelly) blaring through the speakers and mom questioning my sanity out loud because of my hatred for 90's mainstream pop music. I should have known she had been serious. I'd probably find a copy of Tiger Beats or Seventeen magazine on my desk later. That was my mother, she never stopped trying.

   When we finally arrived home, I slid back into the compression my body had forever made on the twenty year old mattress I slept on, while mother checkered her eHarmony account for anything new. I put my ear buds in, partly trying to wash my brain of my mother's bad taste, and mostly to dispel the silence that had settled around me. It was always quiet at our house, with just my mom and I. I used to wonder if it would be different if dad had been around. Maybe I would have siblings or, at the very least, a dog. My mom was against pets. I think it's because she got me a gold fish in the fifth grade that died a day later and had to listen to me cry for three hours. Or because she was sick of people, and fish, checking out early on her.

   It made me feel guilty about wanting to get away. I wasn't just escaping this town, I was leaving behind my mother. Besides grandma, I was all she had. She would always look at me like a kicked puppy when I talked about traveling the world, but it was my dream. I wanted to see the world, climb mountains, see strange and beautiful things. Go to France.

   I lifted my head off the pillow and looked at the clear jar of money on my desk. In cramped black sharpie was the word FRANCE scribbled on the surface. I was still short on money, but as soon as I had enough I was planning on running off right after graduation. I would just pack my bags and fly off to a mysterious and beautiful foreign country without telling anyone. It was a romantic fantasy, but I know I would probably end up telling my mother about it in the end and she'd insist on going with me. It wouldn't be exactly what I dreamed about, but it would be the trip that would kick-start the life I had imagined for myself. I let my head fall back onto the pillow with a smile, giddy with the thought.

   After about three Chris Isaak's songs, and an inability to get comfortable in my own bed, I decided that I wasn't capable of being lazy for a weekend. It just wasn't in my nature to sit around, because I was one of those rare (in this generation) busy bodies. So I went the kitchen and started baking some lemon squares, a recipe I picked up from the German shop owner of the bakery and improved with the power of the internet. They were my grandma's favorite and I would use them as an excuse to get out of the house.

   When I was finished I put the six squares in a container and dropped the container in a recycled Walmart bag. I slipped on my favorite dark red sweater and some shoes. On my way out, I glanced at my mother who, as I had guessed, was scrolling through the potential mates that eHarmony.com offered on her laptop.

   "You should look for a candidate for the kidnap and clone plan we have," I said to her. She didn't look up from the screen, just waved a hand at me. I opened the front door and said, "Think about it. Anyways, bye mom."

   "Where are you going? I thought you were off on the weekends," my mom said craning her neck to look at me over the couch that separated the living room from the front door. Her tiny glasses slid to the end of her nose.

   "I am," I said confirming that I was indeed off work on Saturdays and Sundays. "I'm defying you and going to visit grandma."

   "No you aren't."

   "Yep. Defying you. Bye mom. Love you," I said closing the door behind me. Unlike me, my mom was lazy and I could count on her not getting up to stop me. I rolled my bike out from the side of the house and rode off down the sidewalk, moved the Walmart bag from my hand to the crook in my elbow, and replugged my ears with music. Jack Johnson sang his song Banana Pancakes into my ear.

   Lately, my grandmother had been on a health kick, but I knew it wouldn't take much coaxing to get her to give in to her favorite. I decided to stop by the bakery to pick her up the bottled milk that Edda, the store's owner, produced fresh from her own cow to replace that 2% crap she had in her fridge.

   I leaned my bike against one of the empty tables outside the bakery, and dropped the Walmart bag with the lemon squares on the table. I wasn't worried about my bike getting stolen because I was only running in, and people typically didn't steal around this part of town. Edda greeted me and told me that I wasn't scheduled for work today in her adorably angry German accent.

   "I know, Edda. I'm just picking up some milk for my grandma," I smiled, grabbing one of the bottles and setting it on the counter. I told her about the lemon squares.

   "Mhm, tell your grandmother I said hello," Edda said. I paid for the milk, she put it in a bag, and told I Edda I would see her Monday. She nodded smiling.

   As I was walking out, I saw a man sitting at the table my bike was leaned against through the window. I thought briefly that I should move my bike away so it wouldn't annoy him, but when I exited the store I froze. My Walmart bag had been thrown to the side, and resting in front of the stranger was the container of lemon squares with the lid popped off.

   That b*****d was eating my grandma's lemon squares.