A Charming Dinner
"I love you. Forever and always," Charming said to me with a reverence only he was capable of.
"And I, you," I responded.
"Emileigh, will you marry…" Before the words could leave his mouth, my fantasy was rudely interrupted.
"Emmy, are you alive in there?" Max waved his hand in front of me to get my attention.
"Wh… what?" I stammered. He walked out of the room, calling to me in exasperation.
"Dinner's ready. I am not going to tell you again." I stashed Charming in the back of my head for another time and headed into the kitchen before I could be grounded for not listening. Again. I briefly wondered what kind of concoction Mom had created tonight. I was not particularly looking forward to finding out. Dinner was always a disaster in my house. My brother, Max, and I never knew what to expect, and in my house, surprises were the opposite of fun. A surprise birthday present usually meant that Max would be getting nail clippers or note cards. For me, it meant a plastic microphone. And for dinner, it was always just another kind of mush that remarkably resembled vomit. Of course, I never ate it. Every day, five minutes into dinner, Tyler came to pick me up. My mom was never very happy about it, but Dad had seen her "food" and made Mom promise to let me go. Since Dad was never home, she always gave me a hard time about it, but that was about the most she could do. Exactly five miserable minutes later, Tyler pulled up. He was punctual. Disturbingly so. I grabbed my plate and ran out the door. I made sure we were out of sight before I dumped the inedible shit out the window. The rain would wash it away, just like always.
I sat silently in the old truck, thinking about Charming. He was so charming. Charming Charming. It had a nice ring to it. I wondered if anyone was actually named Charming. Was anyone really stupid enough to name his or her kid something like that? Yes. Gwyneth Paltrow named her daughter Apple. Some other famous guy named his son something about a rocket ship. Charming was inevitable. How many were there? It would be cool to meet one. I repeated my thoughts aloud.
"Tyler, have you ever met someone named Charming?"
"Em, you know I hate that," he complained, referring to my use of his full name.
"Ty," I emphasized. "You didn't answer the question."
"Actually, there was this guy at the mall last week…" he joked. "What kind of ridiculous question is that?" I heard that a lot from people. Especially Ty. Most of the questions that randomly popped into my head, I said out loud without hesitation. This usually annoyed everyone, but Ty found it entertaining. I did too. It was fun to see the reactions when I asked something particularly weird. It made perfect sense to me, of course, but no one else saw the train of thought that led up to it. I almost forgot to answer Ty.
"A good ridiculous question." My answers were usually something along those lines. I could be very unoriginal at times.
"Well no I haven't," he answered honestly. "But that would be cool."
"That's just what I was thinking," I muttered.
"I did it again! You must have a really simple mind," he smiled at me.
"That means you do too, since we always say the same things," I argued.
"Damn it. You got me again."
I thought back to my question. "If you ever meet a Charming, let me know."
"I didn't realize it was so important to you."
"Well," I said, thinking back to my earlier fantasy, "it would save me the trouble of trying to find a suitable husband." He gave me a weird look and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and turned back to the road.