Nova Scotia

Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

                Four hours and twenty minutes later, I was standing in my new walk-in closet and panicking. I had exactly ten minutes until Cara, Dallas, and Phoebe (who I still hadn’t met) were supposed to come get me, and I had absolutely nothing to wear. To say I was freaking out was probably the understatement of the century.

        The giant queen bed in my guest bedroom was strewn with almost every item of clothing I'd brought from California. All the clothes I'd so carefully folded, sorted, and put away were now collected together in a giant pile of fabric, satin, and wool. I was still wearing the clothes I'd been ready to watch Netflix in when Cara showed up at the front door. I hadn't even done my hair, because how would I know what to do with it without an outfit to go with it?

        "Candice, are you ready, pumpkin?" Grandma Sheela called from downstairs.

        "No!" I shouted back. "I can't choose what to wear, Grandma!"

        The stairs creaked and groaned as Grandma Sheela hurried up the stairs as quickly as she could. Her black hair came into view before she did and she tutted loudly when she saw me. "Oh, Candice."

        "Help me," I whined, falling onto the bed amidst the giant mess of clothes on the bed.

        "It's a bonfire, silly," she exasperated. "Some nice shorts and a good shirt will do! Here." she dug through the mess on the bed and tossed me a pair of denim shorts, a purple top, and a light brown cardigan. "Hurry up and get dressed," she ordered. "I'll do your hair. You don't need make-up."

        "You're a lifesaver, Grandma," I said as I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I changed as quickly as I could and stepped back out. I pulled my hair out of the sloppy ponytail it had been in all day. "Five minutes left," I said nervously, looking outside to make sure there wasn't a car in our driveway yet.

        "You're acting as though they're going to arrive on the dot," Grandma muttered, yanking my head back and fisting my hair in her hands. For a woman in her mid-sixties, Grandma Sheela sure had a grip, I thought to myself. I stayed as still as I could as she pulled on my hair, twisting it into multiple elastic bands before pushing my head back up. "There," she said. "With three minutes to spare, too."

        I turned in the mirror to admire the tight bun Grandma Sheela had pulled my thick hair into. "Thanks, Grandma," I said earnestly.

        "Don't let me catch you panicking about your shoes, either," Grandma warned warmly, kissing my cheek. "A nice pair of flip-flops will do. It's a beach, not a nightclub."

        I didn't say it out loud, but now I was really starting to consider Grandma's idea of me moving in with her. If this had been me with my mother, she would've stuck me in a pair of jeans with a button-up cardigan on top of it all. My hair would've been tightly curled and my make-up thicker than my thighs. My perfume would've been so strong that birds fell out of trees as I passed. There was a huge difference between the person my mother was, and my person Grandma Sheela was, but I was only just beginning to realize just how big the difference was.

"Hey, you look great!" I said to Cara when I got into Dallas' car, which was old, blue, and smelled like leather and pine. He was sitting behind the wheel with (I assumed this was Phoebe) a girl with pretty blonde hair, very tan legs, and a glittering smile beside him. She wore glasses and she was dressed very modestly, however - a lot unlike the girls I was used to seeing.