Bunny, Dear
It knew me.
I sat at the kitchen table where the centerpiece of a vase sat holding wildflowers. The Diary was propped against the vase, knowing and gloating that it had a two full pages on me. Foolishly, I took a black pointy pen and exposed myself on its pages last night. It didn't know my height, my
birth date, or even my name. It couldn't see what I saw when I look into the mirror. I took what I knew about myself and I scribbled it down on paper, giving it access to my personal life and-
"Darling, be a dear and eat
a bit of breakfast," Aunt Lolo lifted an eyebrow at me while she walked towards the kitchen sink. "I don't think your journal is going to jump up and run away. I need your energy today so we can help our new neighbors move in. I love making new friends! I hope they're not as strange as the last ones," she added in a sing-song voice. "Darling, they take the word 'bizarre' to a whole different level," she whispered.
"Aunt Lolo,"
I stuffed The Diary in my bag, "they were as strange as you. I thought you and Mrs. Leak would get along great".
"Mrs. Leak was determined to
start a garden club!" Aunt Lolo scoffed in disbelief, "the nerve of her! One does not need a club to garden, "she said firmly and with a flounce of her graying hair she exited the through the sliding door to the front yard.
I smiled slightly and shook
my head. There was a hamper full of clothes waiting for me at the bottom of the cluttered stairs. In about ten minutes, the Salvation Army truck would come and pick it up. I left The Diary in my bag and got a grip on the very heavy hamper. I wouldn't be surprised if Aunt Lolo herself was hiding in there.
Actually, I would be very surprised,
like screaming surprised. I wouldn't put it past Aunt Lolo to jump out and pull a stunt like that on me. God, I hope the craziness in my family isn't inheritable.
"Thank you Bunny!"
Aunt Lolo called thankfully when she saw me wrestling the hamper to the front. "Just leave it there near the mailbox. The guys know what to do".
The mailbox?
I sighed deeply before studying the yards of grass I would have to cross to get to the Mailbox. There was no use in complaining. Besides, what else was I supposed to do? Have another argument about trusting The Diary? . . . of which is a nonliving object. This morning I was contemplating on tearing out the pages I wrote on and ripping it into shreds.
Why?
For One, writing in a diary is something
that a girl in middle school would do. I am in high school, therefore disqualifying me. Two, someone could steal it. Someone could steal it and then read it. Someone could steal it, read it, and use it to Blackmail me. Three, . . . okay, I dont have a third reason unless the embarrassment of writing in a diary counts as one.
"Hey"
the deep voice didn't belong to my Aunt.
At least I hope it didn't. That would be weird.
"Do you need some help?" it asked.
While I was too busy debating whether
I should write in The Diary, because I have no life, I didn't notice that a SUV drove up to the house across from ours. It must have been the new neighbors, someone male with a hint of a British accent. I looked up and lost hold of the hamper so that it fell over. As embarrassing as it sounds, it did. Different styles of shirts and pants with their price tags Still On spilled out of the hamper. It wouldn't have been that embarrassing except pairs of lingerie now littered the front lawn.
These were actually pretty lingerie,
something I would chose if I were ever to go lingerie shopping. The bra was light blue and lacy with a lacy panty next to it. Scratch that, it wasn't a panty but a thong. What in the world was my Aunt buying? She's almost fifty years old!
"Thanks"
I mumbled distractedly when someone handed me a bunch of lingerie.
"It's no problem,"
he replied sounding amused, "are these all yours?"
Are they all mine?
I looked up with raised eyebrows, wanting to ask why he thought they were all mine when I'm still a minor and couldn't possibly be living in a house by myself. Do I look like a girl who owned hundreds of thongs? I'm wearing jeans and a t shirt, not a miniskirt and a skin tight halter top.
When I looked up, all thoughts
of telling this British Dude off completely vanished. Was it possible for a brain to completely shut down with just a glance at a person? Oh yeah, it was possible.
British Dude had light eyes
and striking features that a girl, taken or not, couldn't miss. He was tall, built, and wore a smile on his face. This was my new neighbor? He was too good looking to be in a place like this. What the hell was he doing here?
My brain just woke up and
seemed too keen on answering. What the hell was he doing here? He's helping you pick up Lingerie that you knocked over, it answered smartly. My face burned.
"Bunny, the guys just called,"
Aunt Lolo's voice echoed out of the house, "they're not going to be here until after lunch. You'll have to drag the clothes back in. Like hell we're going to take it out again. We're going to ask them, nicely of course, to come inside and haul it out themselves. You can never doubt the wiles of women!"
"Is that your mother?" he inquired, smiling.
"No," I chuckled nervously, "that's my Aunt".
"You must be the Carter's son"
Aunt Lolo had opened the front screen and looked out to see us. "Oh dear, you all are here already? The cake's not even done yet!" she fretted.
My Aunt bakes for everything.
She baked cupcakes for the last neighbors before inviting them for a salmon dinner. I covered the hamper when he tossed in the last of the clothes. He cast a smile at me and I noticed that when we stood up he was more than just a several inches taller than me. I felt tiny.
Aunt Lolo came down the stairs,
observing us while she did, "well aren't you just dashing? You're mother told me what a charming boy you were. We had a nice long chat when we met for the offer on the house. She's just lovely".
"She did?" he rubbed the back
of his neck in an embarrassing gesture, "mom likes to exaggerate things".
"Oh I know, isn't it wonderful?" she beamed.
"That's what we were talking about. She adores exaggerating about you while I do the same with my niece," she put her arm around me and hugged me affectionately. "Why, I tell all my friends how absolutely gorgeous she is-"
"Aunt Lolo," I chuckled shooting her a discreet look.
"I mean, look at the color of her eyes, it's positively stunning! And
when she wears that adorable bathing suit to the beach-"
"Aunt Lolo!" I cleared my throat
and I knew my face was red, "I think I heard the Oven Timer!"
"Bunny, Aunt Lolo doesn't
need a silly Oven Timer to tell her when her cake is done. I could just feel it in my bones," she scolded lightly. "Come here young man and use your nice fine muscles you have there to help my niece drag this heavy thing inside," she patted his bicep with a smile. "We'll call your parents right over and we'll have a delicious fest for dinner!"
Bunny? Absolutely Gorgeous?
Positively stunning eyes? The Bathing Suit? I forced a small tight smile when British Dude easily lifted the hamper that weighed a ton. Poor guy, I could already see Aunt Lolo hollering at him from across the street to lend her a hand. She gestured me inside with a shout of the Too Cute That It's Horrible nickname. I sighed and felt my face heat up all over again when British Dude smirked to himself. Who needs parents when you have Aunt Lolo?
Our small backyard had lights
strewn here and there on the bushes and trees, the kind of lights you used for Christmas decoration. A picnic table was brought in from the shed by British Dude and British Dude's father. Aunt Lolo and her new best friend cooked up a storm. I say 'a storm' because I can't think of any other noun that best describes the food that was emitting a mouth watering delicious aroma. Even the boys were drooling.
"Ladies, this looks delicious,"
Mr. Carter commented, his worn green eyes were surveying the Salmon decorated with Onions, Parsley, and Tomatoes. "I think we might just be eating over here all the time".
"Oh George,"
Mrs. Carter swatted him away from the food, "we'll eat soon enough. Go help your son take out the chairs. Let us ladies set the table".
"All right," George Carter
chuckled to himself, "as long as I get to be the first to taste this delicious looking dish. Lola, you sure know how to cook up a mighty good meal," he gave a teasing look to his wife, "maybe you should think about giving Shelly lessons".
The adults shared a laugh and Shelly
Carter swatted her husband away before shaking her head in an affectionate manner at Aunt Lolo and myself. "That man, sometimes I don't know what to do with him".
"Darling, if I had a man like that,"
Aunt Lolo shared amused looks with us, "I'm sure I can think of something".
The ladies laughed and shared a
conversation of things that should not reach my virgin ears. I piped up about getting the dishes and left the scene quickly. My Aunt's, and Mrs. Shelly Carter's, sex life was their business and definitely not mine. I walked into the house only to find British Dude standing in front of the refrigerator in the Kitchen
He noticed my footsteps and
turned to greet me with a semi Guilty Caught In The Act smile. "I was looking for the bathroom,"he explained turning his eyes to me.
"In the kitchen?"
"You're house is. . . big"
he stammered for the right word and failed miserably. "I mean, it's interesting. I guess I got sidetracked," he took a step back from the fridge so that I could see an old picture that was held up by a magnet, "is this you?"
"Yes,"
I could see the picture clearly from here. My mom was wearing a bikini bathing suit and was kneeling in the sand, carefree and happy, with a smile plastered on her face. My father was squatting behind her, so he could be in the picture, with a hand on her shoulder and one on mine. I sat in the middle with a happy stupid Goober Baby smile, the water splashing up in droplets as I hit the water from a shallow hole in the sand.
Yes, it's quite a picture. . .
"And your parents?" he asked.
I tore my eyes away from the Old
photo and nodded, "obviously. The bathroom's down the hall, the first door on your left. Don't mind if it's a little messy," I added apologetically and walked away before he could say another word that would Accidentally ruin my appetite.
accidentally...
