Ashes & Wine

There was one thing his music needed.


11. Dinner With The Parents

Chapter 11: Dinner With The Parents

December 1, Day 8, 10:43 A.M.


We always had time on our side

But now it's fading fast

Every second, every moment

We've gotta, we've gotta make it last


Dodie ran into the room, quickly shutting it before the lady got to us, but after everyone got in the room. My hand, once she let go, was red from her grip.

“Dodie!” I exclaimed as I rubbed my already-red hands. “Really?” I shot her a ‘what-in-God’s-name-were-you-thinking’ look.  

“Sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders in a way that meant ‘suck-it-up.’ She pointed to a ratty chair and commanded, “sit.”

I obeyed.

We heard a flushing noise coming from a small door in the corner of the room. A man came out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants. He was whistling some unrecognizable tune. As soon as he saw us, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Y-y-you’re Eleanor Dennis.” He gulped. His voice was cloyingly throaty.

“You saw the interview?” I asked him as I stood up from the chair, my voice sounded like I hoped he hadn’t seen it. And I really hope he didn’t. Man, how many people watched the interview?

“Yes.” He growled. “Oh, how rude of myself! My name is Alexander, but I go by Alec.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to contain himself.

“Ellie,” I held my hand out for him to shake it. He took it warily. “Look, can we have Dodie do my make-up here? Some lady said we couldn’t come in her, but we ran in here.” I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping he would say yes. 

“Oh, Persephone? She pretty much chases everyone away. Even her boyfriend. He never hangs out with her anymore because she’s a bitch I tell you. But, go right ahead. I don’t have anyone to work on right now.”

“You’re a make-up artist?” Dodie chimed in.

“Yeah, does that surprise you? It’s my good looks isn’t it?” He joked, as Dodie looked at him in a ‘maybe’ way.

“Well, I like you already.” Dodie smiled.

“Girls.” Alec nodded his head, and walked over to a chair sitting in the corner of the room.

Dodie leaned into my ear and whispered, “he’s cute, don’t you think?” I looked at her like she was a mad-man. “Or not.” She pulled away from my ear and started to look at me. 

“Okay, missy.” She pushed me down back into the chair. 

“You do know that you won’t be able to make me pretty, right?” 

“Eleanor Dennis! How dare you say that.” She scoffed.

“Okay, so I’m not ugly, but I’m not exactly pretty, you have to admit that.”

She just rolled her eyes at that. She started to brush my face with random brushes. Me coughing and wheezing a few times. 

“Geez, what is in this shit?” I asked her, while it made my face turn an even paler shade of, well, white.

“It’s called foundation, now stay still.” I wiggled around in the chair just to annoy her. She gave me that look. You know, the one that your mom gives you when you break her favorite vase. 

I heard a familiar sound. My ringtone. I fumbled in my purse until I found the smart phone. 

“Hello?” I asked, not bothering to check the caller ID. 

“Hi, Ellie.” 

“Hey, dad. Whachya want?”

“Oh, your mother and I just wanted to know why you stood us up two days ago.” He sounded disappointed.

“Oh shit!” I cursed.

“Ellie, language!”

“Sorry.” I mumbled. 

“Well, I was a little busy, being on t.v.” I hinted.

“Oh, really?” He sounded like he was telling my mom what I just told him. 

“Yeah, how about we reschedule the dinner?”

“Okay. Wednesday?”

“Sure, alright. I gotta’ go. My friend Dodie is giving me the stink eye.”

“Who? Do I know her? Why don’t you bring your friend to dinner.”

“Well, then Mikki and Nevada would be upset.”

“Well, bring them too.” I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Okay, love you daddy!” I clicked the ‘end call’ button. My parents were no the richest people in the world, but they did have some cash. I never was spoiled as a child though. If I wanted something, then I would have to work my ass off for it. When I was a sophomore in high school, I wanted this series of books called the Millennium trilogy. My friends had read it, my teachers had read it, everyone I knew had read it. Except me. My parents pushed me to rake leaves, plant my mothers flowers, and pick up my old dog, Farella’s poop. All to get a set of books. It was all worth up.

“Hey,” I asked the girls. “Do you guys wanna’ meet my parents at dinner on Wednesday?”

They just nodded, not looking up from their phones.

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