Pearl

The transition was difficult at first. My mother came home and spent her time in her room with several pill bottles on her nightstand and an expression of betrayal on her frail face. She rejected my offers of help quite often and I understood why. Claire had always been her favorite and she was off living the dream. I had always been Father's favorite, and my mother's least favorite.

Jane and Sara tried to help me, but they were used to having someone older tell them what to do and for that reason, they followed me around all day, little Sara especially. She yanked on my skirt several times a day to ask why I was cooking and not Momma. Jane tried to go to the gym whenever she could; I knew that her only reason for going was her crush on Owen, and that upset me so I hardly gave her permission to go.

"But Pearl-" she whined loudly on this particular day. Her chocolate brown eyes welled up with tears and I resisted the urge to roll my own. She was wearing her best dress and a soft shade of pink lipstick. Her obsession was so flimsy and young. Her fourteen-year old heart didn't understand what it was doing.

"No, Jane. No," I said sternly as I peeled potatoes in the kitchen. There was a bustling sound from the entryway and Jane and I both started at the noise.

"Father, is that you?" I called.

"Yes, it's Owen and I!" he responded.

"You're early. Dinner isn't ready yet," I said matter-of-factly.

The two men entered the white kitchen with huge grins.

"We're early because we've got some good news."

I wiped my hands on my apron and looked up at them. "What is it?" I asked, ignoring Jane's struggles to stand next to Owen with a flirty smile on her face.

"Well, Pearl, as you already know, Owen's been winning his fights and they want him for a fight. A big one," my father said. In fact, I hadn't been to aware of Owen's successes, only because I was incredibly overwhelmed by my new life. Their grand tales of Owen defeating other fighters were tuned out with nods of my head and a light hearted smile over dinner.

"Mmm," I hummed as I continued peeling.

"Owen's going to New York for a fight with Jimmy Bennet!"

I put the peeler down. "The Jimmy Bennet?" I asked.

Owen laughed at my expression. "Yes, it's gonna be televised and everything," he said with eyes that crinkled with his smile.

I giggled at his joyful face. "Good job!" I said.

"Oh, Daddy!" Jane cried, "Can I come?"

I gave her a deadly look. My father rolled his eyes at her request. "Actually, we came here because we were wondering if Pearl wanted to come. You've been awfully nice and obliging in the light of what happened to your momma. Owen and I thought it'd be good, since you helped us train all summer."

My eyes flickered over to Owen. He was rocking on the balls of his feet with a hopeful look on his face. "I don't think that would be a good idea," I murmured after a moment of hesitation.

My father's bright face darkened for a second, "Why Pearl? Claire said she could manage the house for the week. I phoned her this morning. I thought you'd be excited!" he argued.

"I am!" I cried, "I just don't know if it would be good for the girls-"

Owen interrupted me, "C'mon, Pearly. Have you ever been to New York City?"

"No," I replied softly.

"Don't you want to?"

"Of course, someday it would be nice," I murmured.

"Why someday? Let's go now," he replied.

He looked so fervent that I almost said yes immediately. Despite having deep reservations about Owen Weaver and everything about him, I realized that I liked his company. It was probably because he was the only person in the world who felt sorry for me. Nobody in my family really seemed to realize my sacrifice. Owen did.

I stared at him for a long second and he gave me an encouraging nod. "Alright. I'll go," I murmured. My father grabbed my face and kissed my forehead, "Ah, Pearl. It will be perfect. We've been waiting for something like this since you were a little girl."

After dinner, I went to the back porch and sat on the swinging bench. The air was getting colder because it was late September. The leaves were turning. Everyone was wearing their warmest clothes now. I pulled my sweater closer to my face and I was startled to hear the back door open and bang closed. It was Owen.

"Pearly," he murmured under his breath as he sat down beside me.

"Owen," I sighed quietly.

"I'm really glad that you're going, you know. I know that it's been difficult with everything that's happened."

I found myself scooting away from him. "Owen, why do you care so much? I hardly know you. What do you want?"

He looked very surprised at my sudden queries. "Well, I like you, Pearl. You, uh, grew up around fighting. I guess I've never known any girl who understood why I'm a boxer. But you do. You're entire family does. And you're kind and beautiful-"

"Not to you, though," I interrupted, "I've never been kind to you."

"Yes, but I'm confident that one day you will be."

"Why?" I grumbled. I didn't like that he was confident in anything about me.

"I don't know. There are some things that you can't really explain, Pearly. I'm trying though. I'm trying really hard to understand."

He was gesturing with his large hands and pale face was scrunched up in deep concentration. I laughed at him. He looked a little stung at my mirth. There was a moment of silence before I murmured, "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

This time he laughed. "Of course."

I smiled a little at the compliment. There was a stomping sound from beside us and we looked up to find Jane. She was batting her eyelashes at Owen's direction, "Owen, Daddy wants to talk to you," she said.

Owen gave me a wary smile and said, "Thanks Jane."

She swooned as he walked past her and into the house. Then she slowly turned on her heel and gave me a malicious glare.

"Jane, don't be such a silly girl," I hissed, "You're running around like a fool around Owen Weaver."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she stomped back into the house.

There were too many problems. Much too many.