Finding Light
Part 10
Ramona sighed and looked out her large window at the street below. The trees that lined the neighborhood were still a fresh green color and their leaves were still perfectly intact. The view made her heart ache for New York.
By now, upstate would be overflowing with its famous foliage, and Ramona would probably be apple picking with her cousins or something like that on what would be a brisk Saturday afternoon in the Empire State.
But instead, Ramona was in California, her mother was gone and she was planning to go out with Charlotte in a few hours. She sighed again, it had been almost four months since Lisea's death and although most people, including her own father, thought she was in the process of recovery, the wound was still deep.
The only way that Ramona found she could get over the situation was to forget. Forget her mother, forget what happened. Just erase the past, and make a new beginning. And that's what the fifteen year-old tried her hardest to do. Lisea became a word to Ramona, not a person. Her face became a blank canvas in her mind, the blank face of a person Ramona used to know so well. Ramona figured that if she simply stopped thinking about Lisea as a person, it wouldn't hurt so much when a memory actually did slip passed the wall she built in her mind.
Now was one of those times that Ramona was glad she built that wall. Staring out her bedroom window, Ramona had a longing for New York and a longing for the past that she was trying so hard to forget. She averted her eyes from the window and made her way downstairs toward the living room. When she got there, she found her father sitting at the end of one of the two leather couches reading his usual instrument catalogue.
"What about this one?" He asked, leaning across the furniture to show Eliot, who sat at the opposite end of the sofa.
Eliot put on her glasses and looked at what her boyfriend was pointing at. "I like the design on the Bass drum," She placed her finger on the picture "But the high tops are God awful."
Tré smiled and looked up at her adoringly from his stretched out position. "I love you," he murmured, reaching up to give her a light kiss on the lips.
Ramona cleared her throat on queue in order to put a stop to any actions that may follow. Eliot turned her head and offered a cheery "Hey!" when she spotted Ramona standing just feet behind the couple.
Tré sat up and looked at his daughter. "Its not what it looks like!" He sputtered, actually looking a little embarrassed for once.
Ramona nodded and flopped down in a recliner, picking up a magazine that was discarded onto the coffee table and flipping through the pages. "Someone called for you," Tré said, throwing the catalogue onto the table in front of him
"Charlie?" Ramona asked. Who else could it be?
"No, some guy," Tré said a little curtly as he picked up the remote. Eliot looked up from her crossword puzzle and quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't say a word.
Ramona felt a slight feeling of excitement "What was his name?" she asked. And it was a little too soon after her father's answer for his own taste.
"I don't know," He said almost snappily "He sounded like an A-hole though." At that comment Ramona and Eliot both rolled their eyes. The two made eye contact with one another and smiled at Tré's apparent annoyance with the situation.
"I'll check the caller ID," Ramona said happily, she knew who it was that was calling. She circled the couch and kissed her father on the cheek before hurrying off to where the cordless phone was kept in the kitchen.
When she was out of the room, Eliot leaned over and whacked Tré upside the head.
"Christ!" he rubbed the back of his scalp, where Eliot had smacked "What the hell was that for?"
"You know what it was for," she said simply, picking her crossword puzzle back up and placing it on her lap.
Tré pouted like a child at his girlfriend. "I take back my earlier comment," he huffed.
"No you don't," she replied.
*-*-*
"You called." The voice on the other line sounded surprised.
"Yeah well," Ramona bit her lip and tried not too sound like the flirty teenager she was coming across as "You called first."
"I know but," She could hear Conner shift in his seat. "Whoever answered didn't seem too happy to hear from me."
Ramona rolled her eyes; her Dad could be such a prick. "Yeah, my Dad is kind of territorial."
"Hmm, guess that means you won't be able to come out tonight huh?" There was a hint of mischief in his voice. He sounded so much older than Ramona at that moment, so much more experienced.
"What?"
"A buddy of mine is having a party over in Rodeo tonight. I want you to come with me," He said coolly in a manner that made Ramona's heart flutter.
"I don't know," she stammered, glancing out her bedroom window.
"C'mon," he persisted, "Its going to be fun, I promise."
Ramona bit her lip again. Her Dad would never let her go out with a junior, especially to a party in another town. But there was something in Ramona that just wasn't going to let her pass up a good time with what could become a future love interest. "Okay," she said suddenly, letting all her worries fall to the ground like tissue paper on Christmas day.
"Awesome, I'll pick you up at six." He said without so much as a hitched breath.
"Great, umm do you need my address?" she asked him, biting her cuticles nervously and looking at the clock; it was 5:30.
"Nope, already have it!" he said perkily.
That bit of information struck Ramona as odd, but it didn't bother her nearly as much as it should have. "Alright, I'll see you tonight" she said as calmly as an excited fifteen year old could.
"Yes you will."
*
Ramona quickly dialed Charlie's cell phone, explaining to her friend that she couldn't go out tonight because she "Had this dinner thing with her Dad and the Band." Ramona was never a good liar, her mother always saw through it, accusing her daughter of having her father's "Lying eyes".
Hurrying to get ready, Ramona brushed her long hair into a ponytail after taking her time to pick out an outfit, settling on a T-shirt and denim miniskirt. She gave herself a once over in the full length mirror. She looked good.
Outside, she heard a car pulling up near the front of the house. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to do something she had never done before: lie to her father.
*-*-*
The moonlight illuminated the sidewalk with a sheer glow that only the best of poets can really describe. The world looked calm, peaceful even; The entire world outside of Tré Cool's head at least.
"Where the fuck is she?" Tré muttered to himself as he glanced up at the pale stars. He turned to Eliot, who was sitting quietly on the couch, looking rather relaxed about the whole situation. "How long can a movie be? Not six and a half fucking hours that's for sure."
Eliot pouted at him and sighed softly, but loud enough for her boyfriend of two years to hear.
"I don't believe you ok?!" He told her louder than necessary "She wouldn't do that, Ramona doesn't lie to me!" He took a seat on the other sofa and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face in frustration.
Eliot crossed the room and sat beside the father, facing him. She took a deep breath. "I don't know a lot about being a parent," She began calmly "Actually, I don't know anything," the 35 year old woman looked down at her bare feet. "But what I do know is that Ramona is a teenager. And teenage girls, they do this sometimes. I'm sure she's fine." Tré lifted his head to look at her just as the couple heard a fiddling of the door knob.
Tré began to get up but Eliot pulled him back down beside her forcefully, "Don't lose your head." She whispered softly before releasing him.
Tré straightened and made his way toward the hallway just as Ramona opened the front door as quietly as she could. She was hoping he wouldn't be there, hoping that maybe him and Eliot would have taken advantage of the alone time, hoping that maybe he had too much to drink and was passed out on the couch. Hoping that when she saw him standing there, his arms crossed across his chest, that it was just a mirage. But of course it wasn't.
"Dad... " She started.
Tré shook his head. Of all the words he had thought of in his mind, all the angry things he wanted to say to her, when he saw her standing in that doorway only nine patient-sounding words came out of his mouth.
"Ramona, go to bed. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
By now, upstate would be overflowing with its famous foliage, and Ramona would probably be apple picking with her cousins or something like that on what would be a brisk Saturday afternoon in the Empire State.
But instead, Ramona was in California, her mother was gone and she was planning to go out with Charlotte in a few hours. She sighed again, it had been almost four months since Lisea's death and although most people, including her own father, thought she was in the process of recovery, the wound was still deep.
The only way that Ramona found she could get over the situation was to forget. Forget her mother, forget what happened. Just erase the past, and make a new beginning. And that's what the fifteen year-old tried her hardest to do. Lisea became a word to Ramona, not a person. Her face became a blank canvas in her mind, the blank face of a person Ramona used to know so well. Ramona figured that if she simply stopped thinking about Lisea as a person, it wouldn't hurt so much when a memory actually did slip passed the wall she built in her mind.
Now was one of those times that Ramona was glad she built that wall. Staring out her bedroom window, Ramona had a longing for New York and a longing for the past that she was trying so hard to forget. She averted her eyes from the window and made her way downstairs toward the living room. When she got there, she found her father sitting at the end of one of the two leather couches reading his usual instrument catalogue.
"What about this one?" He asked, leaning across the furniture to show Eliot, who sat at the opposite end of the sofa.
Eliot put on her glasses and looked at what her boyfriend was pointing at. "I like the design on the Bass drum," She placed her finger on the picture "But the high tops are God awful."
Tré smiled and looked up at her adoringly from his stretched out position. "I love you," he murmured, reaching up to give her a light kiss on the lips.
Ramona cleared her throat on queue in order to put a stop to any actions that may follow. Eliot turned her head and offered a cheery "Hey!" when she spotted Ramona standing just feet behind the couple.
Tré sat up and looked at his daughter. "Its not what it looks like!" He sputtered, actually looking a little embarrassed for once.
Ramona nodded and flopped down in a recliner, picking up a magazine that was discarded onto the coffee table and flipping through the pages. "Someone called for you," Tré said, throwing the catalogue onto the table in front of him
"Charlie?" Ramona asked. Who else could it be?
"No, some guy," Tré said a little curtly as he picked up the remote. Eliot looked up from her crossword puzzle and quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't say a word.
Ramona felt a slight feeling of excitement "What was his name?" she asked. And it was a little too soon after her father's answer for his own taste.
"I don't know," He said almost snappily "He sounded like an A-hole though." At that comment Ramona and Eliot both rolled their eyes. The two made eye contact with one another and smiled at Tré's apparent annoyance with the situation.
"I'll check the caller ID," Ramona said happily, she knew who it was that was calling. She circled the couch and kissed her father on the cheek before hurrying off to where the cordless phone was kept in the kitchen.
When she was out of the room, Eliot leaned over and whacked Tré upside the head.
"Christ!" he rubbed the back of his scalp, where Eliot had smacked "What the hell was that for?"
"You know what it was for," she said simply, picking her crossword puzzle back up and placing it on her lap.
Tré pouted like a child at his girlfriend. "I take back my earlier comment," he huffed.
"No you don't," she replied.
*-*-*
"You called." The voice on the other line sounded surprised.
"Yeah well," Ramona bit her lip and tried not too sound like the flirty teenager she was coming across as "You called first."
"I know but," She could hear Conner shift in his seat. "Whoever answered didn't seem too happy to hear from me."
Ramona rolled her eyes; her Dad could be such a prick. "Yeah, my Dad is kind of territorial."
"Hmm, guess that means you won't be able to come out tonight huh?" There was a hint of mischief in his voice. He sounded so much older than Ramona at that moment, so much more experienced.
"What?"
"A buddy of mine is having a party over in Rodeo tonight. I want you to come with me," He said coolly in a manner that made Ramona's heart flutter.
"I don't know," she stammered, glancing out her bedroom window.
"C'mon," he persisted, "Its going to be fun, I promise."
Ramona bit her lip again. Her Dad would never let her go out with a junior, especially to a party in another town. But there was something in Ramona that just wasn't going to let her pass up a good time with what could become a future love interest. "Okay," she said suddenly, letting all her worries fall to the ground like tissue paper on Christmas day.
"Awesome, I'll pick you up at six." He said without so much as a hitched breath.
"Great, umm do you need my address?" she asked him, biting her cuticles nervously and looking at the clock; it was 5:30.
"Nope, already have it!" he said perkily.
That bit of information struck Ramona as odd, but it didn't bother her nearly as much as it should have. "Alright, I'll see you tonight" she said as calmly as an excited fifteen year old could.
"Yes you will."
*
Ramona quickly dialed Charlie's cell phone, explaining to her friend that she couldn't go out tonight because she "Had this dinner thing with her Dad and the Band." Ramona was never a good liar, her mother always saw through it, accusing her daughter of having her father's "Lying eyes".
Hurrying to get ready, Ramona brushed her long hair into a ponytail after taking her time to pick out an outfit, settling on a T-shirt and denim miniskirt. She gave herself a once over in the full length mirror. She looked good.
Outside, she heard a car pulling up near the front of the house. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to do something she had never done before: lie to her father.
*-*-*
The moonlight illuminated the sidewalk with a sheer glow that only the best of poets can really describe. The world looked calm, peaceful even; The entire world outside of Tré Cool's head at least.
"Where the fuck is she?" Tré muttered to himself as he glanced up at the pale stars. He turned to Eliot, who was sitting quietly on the couch, looking rather relaxed about the whole situation. "How long can a movie be? Not six and a half fucking hours that's for sure."
Eliot pouted at him and sighed softly, but loud enough for her boyfriend of two years to hear.
"I don't believe you ok?!" He told her louder than necessary "She wouldn't do that, Ramona doesn't lie to me!" He took a seat on the other sofa and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face in frustration.
Eliot crossed the room and sat beside the father, facing him. She took a deep breath. "I don't know a lot about being a parent," She began calmly "Actually, I don't know anything," the 35 year old woman looked down at her bare feet. "But what I do know is that Ramona is a teenager. And teenage girls, they do this sometimes. I'm sure she's fine." Tré lifted his head to look at her just as the couple heard a fiddling of the door knob.
Tré began to get up but Eliot pulled him back down beside her forcefully, "Don't lose your head." She whispered softly before releasing him.
Tré straightened and made his way toward the hallway just as Ramona opened the front door as quietly as she could. She was hoping he wouldn't be there, hoping that maybe him and Eliot would have taken advantage of the alone time, hoping that maybe he had too much to drink and was passed out on the couch. Hoping that when she saw him standing there, his arms crossed across his chest, that it was just a mirage. But of course it wasn't.
"Dad... " She started.
Tré shook his head. Of all the words he had thought of in his mind, all the angry things he wanted to say to her, when he saw her standing in that doorway only nine patient-sounding words came out of his mouth.
"Ramona, go to bed. We'll talk about it tomorrow."