Rise Of The Seas

7

I hate seedless buns.

I hate wearing frilly dresses.

But I especially hate group dinners.

"Mom, I am not wearing this" I growl, looking into the mirror. Mom had forced me to trade in my jeans for a dangerously short dress.

"Aw come on honey" she tries "You look beautiful."

"She looks like a baby prostitute" Nova notes, looking at her own outfit. Unlike my outfit, Mom actually found something Nova like for her to wear. A nice sweater with a skirt that screamed Nova.

"Nova!" Mom squeaked before looking at my dress again "Perhaps your sister is right Riley..."

"Thank god, I just want this of-" I begin before the shrill of a doorbell goes through the house.

Turning on her heel like mother in a 50's sitcom, Mom says "It's too late to change now my baby prostitute."

"Oh this is going to be great" Nova snickers, following Mom down the stairs.

Sighing, I grab a small jacket, pulling it over my shoulders. An outfit like this would roll heads back home.

Back there, it felt like a different time. Women wore long skirts with tucked in blouses and mostly stayed home. The men only cared about God and Football. Everyone went to church and married right out of college.

And focused on everyone else's business.

"Riley! Get your butt down here!" Mom calls from down stairs.

Groaning, I descend down the stairs. Instantly, the smell of meat flooded my nostrils. Mom surely got leftover burger patties from work, leaving her to only heat it up in the oven.

"Hey Riles" Ricky calls, resting his elbow on the railing "You know, Nova was right, you do look like a baby prostitute."

"You've got to be kidding me" I groan, finally reaching the ground floor. "Don't you shine up like an old, sweaty penny" he notes, taking sight of my appearance "I didn't think of you as a dress girl."

"I'm not" I sigh "I miss my spandex."

A chuckle falls from his lips, running a hand through his hair, before pausing. "My brother made me gel my hair back. He told me I had to" he pauses, doing air quotes with his fingers "be a southern gentlemen."

"Well then good Sir, shall we head to the backyard?" I joke, holding out my arm.

"Indeed" he notes, more of a horrible British accent pushing through the words than a southern one. Linking our arms, we walk through the kitchen. Sliding open the door, we walk outside, where Amy and Nova talked.

"Oh my god, what the hell is that?!" Amy gasps, looking at my dress.

"Somehow, that monstrosity is considered a dress. Christ, you didn't change? Or at least put on pants?" Nova questions, her tone turning over to a sophisticated one. Horrid thoughts of the women back home ran through my mind. She mostly did this when she was self conscious. Unlike my sister, I had sense of pride for my friends seeing where I lived, while Nova worried what they would think.

"You know Mom would be upset" I say "Besides, it gives me an excuse not to answer the door."

"Why would you need to answer the door?" Nova questions.

"I may or may not have invited Cameron" I note quickly, scrambling to sit in a chair.

Nova's face goes red, mixed with embarrassment and anger. "You did not."

"I did."

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Mom as she stumbled with containers of food. Moving from his spot, Ricky reached out "Here Ms. Campbell, let me help."

"Oh thank you Ricky. You are such a doll" Mom smiles, letting him take a few containers.

"Where do you want this?" another voice calls out. Out steps out a grown man, a large tank of propane in his arms. "Presumably where it can fuel the grill. Thank you" Mom grins, focusing on the food in front of her.

"You're actually grilling?" I question as Ricky pulls out the chair next to me.

"Why yes, what else did you expect?" Mom questions.

Nova and I share a confused glance. Sure, Mom was a waitress, but she knew nothing about cooking.

Back home, we had an old woman named Crystal who would help around the house. While I cleaned the clothes I dirtied from playing outside, Crystal would hold Nova in her lap as they read a book. The woman even taught us how to cook basic things, such as noodles for spaghetti. Sure, as with most of the people Mom hung out with, I tended to distance myself from the high and mighty talk, while Nova engulfed herself in it. It was probably the reason she was so smart.

Back to Crystal, God, she was a woman. Her natural blood red hair stuck out like a sore thumb, but age brought on grey hairs, hiding her bustling flame. Her body wasn't perfect, years of birthing 6 children of her own, along with every other baby in the town, left her hands rough, and cracked. Besides being the only one who stood up for my mother, she accepted our family. She didn't see it has a sin, or the wrath of God. But most of all, she didn't pity us.

She didn't see our issues as an obstacle that would forever hold us back. Instead, it was a hurdle, something meant to be conquered.

If only she could see us now.

Making a mental note to write to the woman, I returned to the dinner.

As I did, a banging noise went through the air.

And at the gate stood Cameron, her thick glasses shinning in the sun, hands clutched around a thick book. "I'm at the right house, right?" she questions.