Family Plotting
From Welcome to Keystone Novel 10: Take Me To Court!: Chapter 2, Scene 2
While his stepmother was attempting to leave the Canon party and head home, Buzz was hoping to soon be sending another family member back to the Hadly mansion with her as he sat at his mother’s light brown wood kitchen table munching on a piece of the garlic bread that had been set out along with a large bowl of spaghetti. Ros always said she was probably going to move back in with Dad and Eliza after the holidays were over anyway, he thought, eyeing his sister, who was sitting to his right scooping some spaghetti and meatballs onto her plate, as he took another bite of his bread. And it’s a few weeks past that now, so it’s time she got going, isn’t it?
As Buzz sat considering the best way to broach the subject, his mother, Maureen Sharlin, walked over to the table and set down a smaller serving bowl that was filled with salad. “I’m sorry dinner is so late tonight, guys,” she apologized as she tucked her loose short curly red hair behind her ear, plopped down onto the slate-blue cushion of the light brown chair that stood at the head of the table, and pulled the seat in closer to the table. “But after work today and getting my hair cut this afternoon, I had to go do some grocery shopping. And since there’re three of us here now, that takes a little longer than it used to.”
Recognizing the perfect opening to present his idea, Buzz popped the remainder of his bread piece into his mouth and turned to his mother. “Well,” he said after he had taken a moment to chew and swallow, “maybe if you’re lucky, it’ll just be you and me again soon, Mom.”
As the implication behind her brother’s words hung in the air, Rosalind, who had set down the spaghetti bowl, froze in the middle of reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “Wow, Buzz,” she said, frowning as she slowly turned to look at him, “I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me that badly.”
Buzz shook his head. “I don’t,” he assured her as she pulled her chosen piece of bread from the basket that was holding the sliced loaf.
“Then what’s this about, Buzz?” asked Maureen, shooting her son the same confused frown as she picked up her fork and dug into the plate of spaghetti that she had already prepared for herself. “Why does it sound like you suddenly want your sister out of this house?”
“Well,” said Buzz, shrugging as he looked down at his lap, “when Ros first moved back in with us, she said that she was only going to be here for a little while and that she planned to go back to Dad’s eventually. So I figure that since she’s been here for a couple of months, that’s going to happen pretty soon, isn’t it?”
As Buzz looked up and gave Rosalind a hopeful look, Maureen solemnly nodded in agreement. “Yes,” she said. “I do remember that this arrangement was only supposed to be temporary.” Turning to her daughter, she asked, “So is that what this is about? Is Buzz trying to unsubtly tell me that you’ve officially made plans to move back into your father’s house because you’re too afraid to tell me yourself?”
As her mother set down her fork, sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and gave her an expectant look, Rosalind turned to her and shook her head. “Come on, Mom,” she chastised her. “You know I don’t play games like that. When I’m good and ready to go back to Dad’s house, I plan to be totally up front with you about it and tell you immediately.”
“Well, can you maybe be good and ready tomorrow?” pleaded Buzz. “Because I really need you back in that house right now.”
Both their faces now contorting with confusion, Maureen and Rosalind slowly turned to look at Buzz as if he had dropped in from another planet. But before either of them could once again question him about his insistence that Rosalind suddenly switch homes, the white phone that was mounted to the kitchen wall suddenly began to ring.
Letting out a groan, Maureen pushed back her chair and stood up. “Sorry, guys,” she said as she pulled down on the hem of the teal V-neck short-sleeve top that she was wearing with sneakers and dark blue jeans. “But I have to answer that. I’ve been trying to get in touch with a plumber to fix the sink in my bathroom all day, and the last time I called, they said that someone might be able to call me back around seven, so…”
As their mother trailed off, turned, and wandered across the room to answer the phone, Rosalind, who had turned her attention to her when she had started speaking, turned back to Buzz. “All right, Buzz,” she quietly said as she dropped her bread onto her plate, reached up, and rested her left arm on the back of her chair. “What’s really going on? Why do you want me back in Dad’s house so badly that you’re basically asking me to pack up and move out of here tonight?”
Looking down at his lap again, Buzz let out a defeated sigh. “Because I need a favor,” he admitted, squeezing his hands together as their mother, who had picked up the phone by that point, wandered out into the living room with it. “And you’re the only one I know who can maybe get it done for me.”
“Favor?” repeated Rosalind, frowning as she crossed her arms over the silky cerulean-blue long-sleeve shirt, which had a black lace-up placket on the front, that she was wearing with black belted pants that matched her black heeled boots. “What favor? And why can’t I do it here?”
Taking a deep breath, Buzz looked back up at her. “You know how I told you about Johnny?” he asked. “And how his reputation is totally in the toilet because his drink got spiked at that rave we all went to, and people took pictures of him acting stupid and posted them all over the Internet.”
Rosalind nodded. “Uh-huh,” she replied. “And you guys think that Cahuenga and her friends, including our lovely stepsister, Bridget, did it.”
Buzz nodded. “Right,” he confirmed. Shaking his head after a moment, he continued with, “But the only problem is that we don’t have any hard solid proof that they did. And until we do, Johnny’s not getting his rep or his girlfriend back.”
“Mm,” said Rosalind, thoughtfully nodding as her brother finished reiterating the situation to her. “I think I see where this is going now. You think that if I’m back in Dad and Eliza’s house with Bridget, then I just might be able to uncover this proof you need to set everything right.”
Buzz grinned. “Exactly!” he exclaimed. “So will you do it?”
Narrowing her blue eyes at her brother as he fixed her with an eager look, Rosalind frowned. “Why can’t you just do it yourself?” she asked. “I mean, you have a room there too from when Dad and Eliza first got married, and you lived there for two months, so…”
But Buzz just adamantly shook his head. “No way,” he said, holding up a hand in order to signal his refusal. “That’ll look way too suspicious. Everyone there knows how much I hated living there the first time around, so they’ll never buy that I want to move back in.” Dropping his hand into his lap, he shook his head and continued with, “But you, Ros…well, they’re expecting you to come back eventually. So why don’t you just do it now?”
Turning back around as their mother wandered back into the kitchen with the phone in hand and started to wrap up her conversation with the plumber, Rosalind sighed. “I guess you have a point,” she admitted. “I did pretty much promise Dad that I’d come back after the holidays. And I’ve really only stayed a few extra weeks since Mom’s been so happy having me here, so…”
“Plus you know that Bridget deserves to go down,” Buzz reminded her. “Especially after she’s the one who manipulated things so that you would move out in the first place.”
Turning back to her brother, Rosalind determinedly nodded, causing her loose red curls, which ended about an inch beneath her shoulders, to bounce a little. “You’re right,” she agreed. “If it hadn’t been for her messing with my mind and making me believe that I was being a total hypocrite by protesting Lucifer Riches while also living in his neighborhood last fall, then I never would have moved out. And it’s about time she learned that being rich doesn’t give her the power to manipulate my life or anyone else’s for her own needs and entertainment.”
Upon hearing the same fiery and furious determination that had been present in his sister’s voice when she had led those protests against Lucifer two and a half months earlier, Buzz grinned. “So you’re going to do it,” he realized. “You’re going to find proof that Bridget and her friends messed with Johnny at the rave and then bring it straight back to us.”
“Well,” said Rosalind, shaking her head as she turned back to her food and picked up her fork, “I’m not going to purposely spy on her or raid her room. But if I just so happen to be in the right place at the right time and have the means to capture evidence, then…yeah. I’ll pass it along to you.”
“Great!” exclaimed Buzz as he sat up and grabbed his own fork. “So when are you going to head back there?”
Looking over at their mother, who was now hanging up the phone, Rosalind let out a sad sigh. “Tomorrow, I guess,” she decided as she started to wind some spaghetti noodles onto her fork. “If you can do one thing first.”
“What’s that?” asked Buzz.
Turning back to her brother, Rosalind replied, “Figure out a way to explain all of this to Mom.”
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