Nightingale

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jukebox Wars

I made it home by noon and couldn't wait for six o'clock. A little tequila might be what the doctor ordered. That's if Claudia didn't disown me after this morning. I seemed to be a drama magnet these days, and I couldn't blame her if she didn't want to get caught in the wake. The internship would be great for her and her family; after all, she did have kids to put through college. I hope she didn't think being associated with me would slim her chances.

I checked the mail and unlocked the front door to go inside. Bill, bill, junk...I categorized while flipping through it. I stopped short when the invitation caught my attention. The envelope was a soft cream with engraved lettering and the Weathers family address on the back flap. So there is going to be an elitist ball, I thought and opened it. Why the hell invite me?

"As a distinguished faculty member of the Weathers Pain Management Clinic, you are cordially invited..." I trailed off and searched for the date. Great! Now I would have to deal with Margaret. I scanned the invitation to the bottom where I finally found the date.

"May twentieth!" I yelled with dismay and plopped down onto my overstuffed chair. "That's day after tomorrow. I don't have a dress. I'll have to wear pantyhose and heels and do something with this mop," I whined. I thought of how uncomfortable I would be, not to mention how out of place I would look. I grabbed the cordless phone off the end-table and dialed Mom's number.

"Hello," she answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Mama. Whatcha doin'?" I asked despondently.

"I'm just checking my e-mail. What's the matter with you? You sound like your dog died."

I began with a quick rundown of my day thus far, the modified version of course, and ended with the invitation to the party. "I can't go, Mama. I feel like I'm in high school all over again. Besides, I don't have anything to wear. I don't even have a date, not that I want one, but I don't want to go by myself."

"Well...don't go, then," she said matter-of-factly.

"But I have to go because of the internship," I complained.

"Then, why are you whining about it?" she teased.

"Because I don't know what to do," I snapped with irritation.

"You don't know what to do about the party, or you don't know what to do about Michael?" she asked with that "knowing" voice. She always had a way of knowing what the problem really was, sometimes before I did.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Michael," I protested.

"Oh, I think it does. Personally, I think you should stay away from the jerk, but you never have listened to me when it came to him. If he's not the problem, then wear the black cocktail dress you wore to Mom and Dad's anniversary party and go with Claudia. There... problem solved," she said.

"So you think I should go?" I asked, almost begging her to say no.

"Yes, I do. You're not seventeen anymore, Samantha. You're an intelligent, mature, beautiful young woman, and you have as much of a right to be there as anyone else. Don't let Margaret intimidate you. Show 'em what you're made of, kiddo."

"Thanks, Mama," I said softly.

"That's what I'm here for, baby. Call me later."

"Oh, by the way, I won't be home 'til late. Claudia and I are going out. Figured I better tell you in case you called. I didn't want you to worry," I said. She'd called me every night since the incident with Jake.