Status: [updated 12/07/14]
The Brat Pack
I Like Those Earrings, Claire
Thursday evening, March 29, 1984. The Standish Household, Shermer, Illinois.
Claire dumps her purse on a chair in the kitchen and throws her keys across the table. "I'm home!" she calls.
The house is lit up, music drifting in from another room. Claire follows the sound, but finds no one.
"Mom?" she calls.
"Upstairs!"
Claire takes the winding stairs, humming along with the music. She freezes in the hall when she sees her bedroom door is open and the light is on. Mrs. Standish pops her head around the door frame, smiling. As Claire gets closer, she can smell the alcohol coming off her mother.
"Mom?"
Claire's jewelry box is open on her bed, jewelry scattered everywhere. "I'm looking for those pretty earrings of yours, Claire. Your father and I are going dancing. Whoopsies," Mrs. Standish giggles as she tips over, knocking into the wall.
Claire runs over to help her mother. "Mom, you're drunk."
Mrs. Standish waves a dismissive hand, fixing the wrinkles in her dress. "Nonsense, I've only had a little bit. Honest." She burps, hiding her mouth behind a manicured hand and giggling again. "Now then," she turns to the bed, "where are those earrings?"
Claire frowns. "Which ones, Mom?"
"You know, those expensive little studs your grandmother got you. Oh look, there's one!"
Mrs. Standish leans over the bed, fishing from the pile a small stud Claire hadn't even seen. The same stud she'll never see the matching one of, because it's with-
"Bender," Claire whispers, tugging on one of her ears instinctively.
Her mother looks over at her and frowns deeply. "What was that, Claire?"
"Uh, no, nothing. I, uh-"
"Ladies?"
Claire whirls around to find her father standing in the doorway, fixing his tie.
"Everything alright in here?"
"I'm not sure," Mrs. Standish says. Mr. Standish raises his eyebrows. "Claire, where is the matching stud?"
"It – it should be right there, Mother. Honest."
Claire hurries over to the bed and starts to dig through the pile of jewelry. She can feel sweat gathering on her forehead.
"Why, I don't know where it could have gone to."
"Eleanor?" Mr. Standish says.
Claire looks up. Her mother is holding the stud between her thumb and forefinger as if it's diseased. Her face is a mixture of emotions Claire can't read. Her frown is nearly to the floor. Claire tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Her mother turns and sets the stud on Claire's vanity table, snatching up her clutch and throwing Claire another look.
"Let's go, Randy darling. We're late."
Mrs. Standish storms from the room. Mr. Standish eyes Claire warily.
"Randal!"
"Coming!"
He gives Claire one last look before he hurries off after his wife. Claire drops to the floor, listening to the slamming of the front door and the start of her father's car. She turns and stares at the bottle of Vodka her mother left behind.
Claire dumps her purse on a chair in the kitchen and throws her keys across the table. "I'm home!" she calls.
The house is lit up, music drifting in from another room. Claire follows the sound, but finds no one.
"Mom?" she calls.
"Upstairs!"
Claire takes the winding stairs, humming along with the music. She freezes in the hall when she sees her bedroom door is open and the light is on. Mrs. Standish pops her head around the door frame, smiling. As Claire gets closer, she can smell the alcohol coming off her mother.
"Mom?"
Claire's jewelry box is open on her bed, jewelry scattered everywhere. "I'm looking for those pretty earrings of yours, Claire. Your father and I are going dancing. Whoopsies," Mrs. Standish giggles as she tips over, knocking into the wall.
Claire runs over to help her mother. "Mom, you're drunk."
Mrs. Standish waves a dismissive hand, fixing the wrinkles in her dress. "Nonsense, I've only had a little bit. Honest." She burps, hiding her mouth behind a manicured hand and giggling again. "Now then," she turns to the bed, "where are those earrings?"
Claire frowns. "Which ones, Mom?"
"You know, those expensive little studs your grandmother got you. Oh look, there's one!"
Mrs. Standish leans over the bed, fishing from the pile a small stud Claire hadn't even seen. The same stud she'll never see the matching one of, because it's with-
"Bender," Claire whispers, tugging on one of her ears instinctively.
Her mother looks over at her and frowns deeply. "What was that, Claire?"
"Uh, no, nothing. I, uh-"
"Ladies?"
Claire whirls around to find her father standing in the doorway, fixing his tie.
"Everything alright in here?"
"I'm not sure," Mrs. Standish says. Mr. Standish raises his eyebrows. "Claire, where is the matching stud?"
"It – it should be right there, Mother. Honest."
Claire hurries over to the bed and starts to dig through the pile of jewelry. She can feel sweat gathering on her forehead.
"Why, I don't know where it could have gone to."
"Eleanor?" Mr. Standish says.
Claire looks up. Her mother is holding the stud between her thumb and forefinger as if it's diseased. Her face is a mixture of emotions Claire can't read. Her frown is nearly to the floor. Claire tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Her mother turns and sets the stud on Claire's vanity table, snatching up her clutch and throwing Claire another look.
"Let's go, Randy darling. We're late."
Mrs. Standish storms from the room. Mr. Standish eyes Claire warily.
"Randal!"
"Coming!"
He gives Claire one last look before he hurries off after his wife. Claire drops to the floor, listening to the slamming of the front door and the start of her father's car. She turns and stares at the bottle of Vodka her mother left behind.