Howdy. I'm Charlotte Cooper, but you can call me "Callie". I am an 18 year old woman living in East Texas in 1993. I live in a small town named Medford, where nobody minds their own business and everybody minds yours. I know what you're thinkin'. What if you don't have business for them to mind? Well, they'll make it up.
I am the first child of four. My twin brother, Georgie, was born three minutes after me. Our little siblings, also twins, were born five years after us. Their names are Sheldon and Melissa, but the latter is called "Missy" for short. We tend to affectionately call Sheldon "Shelly" too, but the boy hates it.
Speaking of Sheldon, he's in Germany right now, which means he did not have to suffer through the same tornado that just hit Medford and busted up my MeeMaw's house real good. Tornadoes are not an uncommon occurrence in Texas, but they're a nuisance. All of her memories, everything that matters to her (aside from us) gone in the blink of an eye. I can hardly fathom it, myself. Our family is reeling from this disaster and Mom and Sheldon are in Germany, safe and sound, inhaling wienerschnitzels until they're about to burst. Do I have concrete proof of this? No. But I don't need to. I'm dramatic.
Dad has called Mom and let her know of the tornado, but boy do I wish they'd been here to suffer it with us. I know, it's a lot for a daughter and sister to want her mother and brother to suffer with them, but it just feels unfair. MeeMaw has lost everything, and they're in Europe unscathed? The nerve of them.
The worst part is MeeMaw staying with that old boyfriend of hers. Dale, I think that's his name. He's insufferable. Devoid of personality, or the only personality he has is being a manchild in his seventies. It makes me sick. MeeMaw should have stayed with Sturgis. Well, maybe not. Maybe they weren't the best fit. But Dale and MeeMaw? They're both bitter old people. Wouldn't that be a bit of an overwhelm?
I know a little bit about overwhelm. This house has been chaotic since the tornado, and since everyone else seems to be going through some sort of emotional paralysis, crisis, or both, it's up to me to bring some order to the home. Me and Missy, actually. Weirdly enough, the little girl wants to try and step up, too. You could say I'm a good influence, or you could say that she's always had it in her. Maybe both could be true.
"Which do you want to cook, Missy? The bacon or the eggs?" I ask her. We're cooking breakfast for everybody right now. Since Mom's gone, it's up to us to do the job of the woman of the house. I don't really buy into the traditional, patriarchal swill that most of the women in East Texas do, but maybe it rings true when every man in the house or in our orbit is an idiot.
Maybe that was unfair to Dad and Georgie. They're not even really who I'm talking about, but we'll cross that infuriating bridge when we accidentally happen upon it.
"The bacon," Missy answers me, grabbing the bacon from the fridge.
"The bacon," I repeat. "You don't mind a little grease?" I tilt my head in a teasing way, to which she scoffs.
"Please, a grease burn wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened lately," Missy deadpans. I raise a concerned brow, but decide against prying since I know she hates it and I don't really have the energy.
"Okay, if you're sure." I say, taking the eggs out of the fridge.
"I am," she says. A pause. "I wonder how Mom and Sheldon are doing."
"Probably great," I scoff. "They're not here, after all."
"Are you mad at them for that?" Missy raises an eyebrow, as if it would be ridiculous for me to be mad at them for being in Germany.
"On one hand, no. It's a great opportunity for Sheldon, studying in Germany. But on the other hand, this family usually suffers together. There's usually all of us here to lean on each other. And they're not here. Mom isn't here," I sigh. "It's weird. I'm not used to it."
"Do you miss them?" Missy asks.
"I didn't say that," I say, annoyed. But I do.
"You totally miss them," she says, as if reading my mind. She's good at that. Very emotionally intelligent. I don't know where she learned it.
When our family comes in a little later, there are various levels of surprise coming from all when they see we've made breakfast.
"What's all this?" MeeMaw asks.
"Food," I say simply. "And I expect you all to eat it, every bite. Missy and I worked very hard on this."
Georgie snorts, and I look at my twin brother with a raised eyebrow.
"What's so funny?"
"You sound like Mom."
I huff, taking offense to this claim. "I'm nothing like mom. Now, sit down and eat your breakfast. Not another word," I say, sitting at the table. It really bothered me, Georgie comparing me to Mom.
You see, Mom and I don't really get along. I'm one of those alternative, grunge types and she's one of those Christian mothers that swears on the Bible that my interests are of the devil. I usually respond that they're none of her concern. She considers it stubbornness, I argue it's a matter of conviction. Either way, I'm going to hell.
"You know, many eldest daughters are parentified," Mandy says. "Do you feel as if you're parentified?"
I exchange glances with Georgie. It's true that a lot of parental responsibilities, especially in the realm of emotional development and, honestly, basic development were thrust upon the two of us at an early age. Mom and Dad, and even MeeMaw at times, are guilty of allowing themselves to be submerged in their own emotional turmoil and just sort of forgetting about our needs.
By our needs, I mean mine, Georgie's, and Missy's. Sheldon's needs are never forgotten. They tend to him. To a fault. To our detriment. Don't get me wrong, I understand. Shelly's a special boy, Shelly needs more attention than the three of you because he's a special boy. But we're special too. We might not be geniuses like Sheldon, but Missy can tell what you're feeling even if you don't say anything. Georgie can fix a car like nobody's business. I'm one hell of a guitarist. Do our parents care about that? Not really. But I do. I care a lot, and I care that they don't care.
I look back to Mandy. "No," I lie. "I think that there's a role each family member has to fulfill. And you must take on a family member's responsibilities in their absence. It's your duty to your family."
Mandy smiles and nods, going back to her food. I catch my MeeMaw's eye. "That's very thoughtful, Callie," she says. I can tell she doesn't believe me, and before she can call me out, I ask. "So why are you here? What happened with Dale?"
Her expression falters, but she answers. "Dale made fun of me for living in Texas and not having tornado insurance." she mutters.
"For once I agree with him," I say with a chuckle. "What were you thinking?"
"Do you want me to leave here too?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then watch it."
"Yes ma'am," a smile plays at the corners of my lips, and I think MeeMaw notices but has chosen not to address it.
MeeMaw hates it when her logic is questioned. I think it's because she has so little of such that she is sensitive about it. She'd lecture me for calling her sensitive, but that's what she is. That's what we all are, in this family. Even Sheldon. People don't take the time to get to know or understand him. I'm not saying it's easy, or really even tolerable to be around him long enough to understand him. But I've had fourteen long years of forced interaction with this kid, and despite what other people think of him, he's a good kid. Good head on his shoulders, mostly. If you train yourself to not always think of him as a bother or inconvenience, he is quite a fascinating person. His eccentricities are unlike anything you would expect in a human being. Our siblings say he feels no emotion, but I believe that he does, just not in the sense that feels good to other people.
Missy suggests we go out to the store to get groceries and baby stuff. I think that's a good idea because Mandy has just lost everything in the tornado since she was staying at MeeMaw's.
"That's really sweet of you guys," Mandy says with a smile.
"Of course," I say with a hint of humour, "you got mistakenly knocked up into this family. You're one of us now."
Both Georgie and Mandy look at me with a hint of surprise. I hadn't previously been very kind to Mandy. I felt like she had taken advantage of my brother and I have always been very close to Georgie, as we're twins. A completely separate dynamic from our younger twin siblings, but that's because Georgie doesn't have the distant personality that Sheldon does. I've always felt somewhat bad for Missy in that regard. She doesn't get enough attention, or enough credit, or enough appreciation. I have the idea to step back as eldest sibling and see what Missy can do if things are left up to her.
"Missy, you wanna make the list?" I ask.
She raises an eyebrow. "All by myself?"
"Yeah. You get to decide what we're eating this week." I take a pad of paper and a pen and hold it out to her.
"Alright! Thanks, Callie," she says, taking the pad and pen and beginning to write.
"Wow," Georgie says. I turn to look at him.
"What?"
"You're the oldest daughter and you're lettin' Missy take care of the mom stuff," Georgie comments.
"Yes, that's what's happening," I say dismissively.
"But if you're the oldest daughter, shouldn't you be taking the responsibility?" Georgie presses.
I shrug. "I'm too lazy."
Georgie squints, clearly not believing me, but drops the subject. He's never known me to be lazy, but he's also never known me to lose an argument (unless it's against Sheldon, but that's only because that kid will wear you down until you can't take it anymore), so that's why he didn't keep pushing.
Later on, it's me, Missy, and Mandy in the car to the grocery store. We left CeCe with Dad, since he wasn't going to work today anyhow. I'm driving. Ever since I got the 1993 Mazda RX-7 for my birthday from my friend Giovanni, it's the only car I prefer to take anywhere that I'm going, no matter who's with me.
"Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum plays low on the stereo, and I'm humming along at a similar volume. Mandy pipes up, "It's cool of you two to take care of everyone while your mom is away, but it makes me wonder…why isn't your dad doing anything?"
"Because he's lazy," Missy says. I sigh.
"That's not it," I say. "I think Dad is used to Mom taking care of everything. Even when she's here, and he tries - she overrules it. She's a control freak. I think she's made it to where he doesn't know how to do much of everything related to housework and taking care of the family."
Mandy pauses. "You don't like your mom very much, do you?"
I look at her for a second, then back at the road. "I love my mom."
"But you don't like her, do you?" Mandy asks. This girl is so nosey.
I look at Missy in the rearview mirror. She's looking out the window, not at me, but I can tell she's listening. I sigh again. "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind," I say, trying my damnedest to be polite.
"Mom and Callie don't like each other," Missy chimes in.
"Melissa," I raise an eyebrow in the rearview.
"What? It's true. We all know it," Missy retorts.
I scoff. "You know nothing. Go back to looking out the window."
"Is that true? You don't like each other?" Mandy asks.
I sigh. "We're…not fond of each other, I suppose."
Mandy can sense I'm embarrassed by this information. "It's okay, my mother and I don't get along, either."
This information catches my attention. "Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow again but in curiosity instead of admonishment.
"Yeah. She's always trying to control me, and she never approves of my decisions." Mandy complains with a scoff.
Sounds familiar. "Mine neither. It's almost like I can't be my own person, you know?" I ask. I no longer care that Missy is in the car and can hear this. It's nothing I haven't told Mary to her face, anyway.
"I hear you. She's especially not happy with me right now."
"To be fair," I respond, "I wouldn't be either if my 30-year-old daughter was knocked up by a 17-year-old high school dropout."
"Hey, don't talk that way about Georgie," Missy says.
"If he didn't want me to talk that way, he shouldn't have given me anything to talk about," I say, pulling into the parking lot of the supermarket.
We get out of the car and head toward the store. "I hope there are carts inside," I say, fanning my face with my hand. "I don't want a cart that's been sitting in the damn sun all day."
"Come on, burn your hands just a little," Mandy jokes. I roll my eyes a little, but not in the mean way I typically do.
"I'll pass, thank you," I respond with a small smile. I grab a cart and start pushing. "I'll leave you two to choose products. I've been the one grabbing the products off the shelves for too long. I'm just gonna push the cart this time."
"Getting out of work?" Missy asks.
"Delegating, dear sister. It's a valuable skill," I retort. "Besides, whether we like it or not, Mandy is a mother now and she needs to know how to shop for our niece."
Missy nods in understanding.
"I'm glad you care about CeCe," Mandy says. I look at her as we begin to walk through the aisles.
"Of course I do. She's my niece. She's Georgie's daughter." I say. "Missy, what's first on the list?"
"Bread," she says.
"Lead the way, then," I say, knowing full well where the bread is. I just want to see if she does.
"You and Georgie are close, huh?" Mandy asks.
"We're twins," I nod.
"That doesn't mean anything," Missy mumbles, looking in each aisle to see if there's bread there. There are signs above that inform you of what's in the aisle, but I'm going to let Missy find that out herself.
I give her a look of sympathy before continuing, "Georgie and I were the only kids in the family for 5 years, and as twins you tend to stick together." I speak with a tentative tone, knowing that deep down she was a little upset that she didn't have the same bond with Sheldon that I do with Georgie. At least she's close with the two of us. "We did most things together up until high school. We're still very close, but our lives have taken us in different directions now. He's a dad, and I smoke cigarettes behind the gas station with the foreign exchange student from Italy."
Missy gasps.
"You're gonna tell Mom now, aren't you?" I ask, still waiting for her to acknowledge the signs right above her head.
"No, I found the bread!" she says, going into an aisle.
Mandy and I exchange an amused glance before following her into the aisle.
Once I push the cart up to where she can reach it, she puts it in the basket of the cart. I shake my head.
"What?" she asks, mildly irritated at my silent disapproval.
"Child seat," I gesture from the bread to the child seat in front of me. "Unless you like smushed bread."
"Fine," she mutters, moving the bread into the child seat. I smile, amused by her attitude.
"Thank you, Missy," I say. "What's next?"
We spend the rest of the time in the store talking about various things while Missy hunts for the items on the shopping list and Mandy helps her find them. Missy never does notice those signs. Oh, well. Maybe next time.
…
Later on, we're sitting in the living room. I've left it up to Missy to try and figure out who stays in what room. It's a 4 bedroom house. There are 7 of us. Dad is already in his and Mom's room, so that leaves 3 bedrooms, but I'm still in mine and Missy and I don't feel like sharing our rooms. That leaves 1 bedroom. Sheldon's away in Germany, so that's where the family unit of Georgie, CeCe, and Mandy can be. But where does MeeMaw go? Our garage?
It's decided that Dad moves to the garage and MeeMaw gets Mom and Dad's room.
"What about when Mom and Sheldon get back? Where are they going to be?" I ask. Georgie nods, agreeing with my confusion.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Dad says.
I scoff. "Great. Sheldon's gonna love that."
I see anxiety cross Dad's features for a second, but he rights himself before he says, "Like I said, Charlotte, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
The phone rings. MeeMaw answers it, and it's Mom. Mom is asking if she and Sheldon need to come back home. MeeMaw says no, because they would just be in the way if they came back. The house is too crowded.
I guess that's true. It's me, Georgie, Dad, CeCe, Missy, MeeMaw, and Mandy. We're already running out of room in this house and could barely fit everyone in here. Mom's anxiety would have her fussing about, making it harder on the rest of us. Sheldon would be Sheldon. Nobody would be happy. Besides, despite having way more responsibility and more people in the house, I feel more at ease without them here. I miss them, but not enough to want them around. I'm not looking forward to their return.
Wanting to get away from the chaos and stress of the house, and having faith in Missy to keep everything under control, I head over to the gas station to pick up snacks and drinks for everyone to enjoy, hoping it'll be a bit of a pick-me-up for them in these trying times. I hear a whistle as I'm about to enter the gas station. I turn in the direction of the whistle.
I see Giovanni, heading toward me with a speed atypical of people around here. You can tell he's from somewhere they typically walk. "Ciao," he greets me.
"Walk with me," I say, "I'm on an errand."
"I'm assuming that means you have no time for me right now?" Giovanni asks, his Italian accent evident…and whiny.
"That does mean that, you are correct," I say. Giovanni is always trying to get me to spend time with him. I don't know why that is, and he doesn't ever give me a straight reason. Maybe he's lonely. I know I'm not the only person he's made friends with here in Texas.
I enter the gas station, causing him to catch the door behind me to enter, since I failed to hold it open.
"I don't like that," Giovanni pouts as I begin to browse.
"Giovanni, there's been a tornado, as I'm sure you're aware."
"Si, a shock to the senses," Giovanni says. "They aren't common in Rome, but my family in the Northeast has talked about them."
"Then you understand that after a tornado, one must deal with the aftermath," I say. I grimace at myself a little, realising I sound a bit like my little brother. "That's what I'm doing," I say.
"I do understand that. I was just hoping that I'd get to see you at some point," he says.
"And you will at some point, just not when I'm in the thick of it, okay?" I raise an eyebrow, hoping that he actually understands and we can put this conversation to bed.
Giovanni pauses for a second, clearly debating on whether or not to continue contradicting me. "Fine," he decides. "But you better keep to your word."
"I've never been a liar, I don't plan on starting now," I say.
Giovanni nods, taking a cigarette out of the pack and heading back outside.
"Bye, I guess," I mutter to myself before continuing to shop.
I bring the snacks back to the house, and my family is delighted for once.
"Nice of you to do this for us, Callie," Dad says.
"I can be nice sometimes," I shrug.
"When?" Georgie teases. I give him a glare in response. "Not now, I guess," he answers himself.
"I think what you mean is 'thank you, Charlotte'," I say, giving him an expectant look.
"Thank you, Charlotte," he says, mimicking my tone of voice. I shrug with a small smile.
"Really, thank you, Charlotte. This is nice," Mandy says, giving me a sincere smile.
"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Callie," Georgie nods.
…
The next day, there's a knock on our door.
"I'll get it!" Missy calls out, heading for the door.
"Well, there's wasted effort," I mutter to myself, as I was already standing in view of the door and she wasn't. I stay to see who's at the door as she opens it. It's Dale, MeeMaw's boyfriend. He's got flowers.
"Is your MeeMaw here?" Dale asks.
Missy shakes her head. "She's out taking CeCe for a walk. You can come in and wait for her, though. I'll get you some coffee."
I scoff at her suggestion, but say nothing else. I look at Dale and give a look of disapproval and disgust before going to make myself a snack.
"I don't think she likes me," Dale says to Missy. I roll my eyes to myself.
"It's Callie. She doesn't like anyone."
I give a puzzled expression to Missy's back as I pull some things to make a sandwich out of the fridge. I don't say anything, though. I don't feel like justifying my dislike for Dale to anyone.
I was ten years old when my Pop-Pop died. I have vivid, fond memories of the man. And Dale is not a suitable replacement for him. Not a suitable man for my grandmother. And what, does anyone even want to hear that my grief of my grandfather is one of the reasons why I don't like Dale.
I like Dr. Sturgis. He may be as weird as Sheldon but he balanced MeeMaw out well. I'm unhappy they broke up, but I wouldn't dare criticise MeeMaw about her romantic endeavours, given that they don't directly affect me and aren't really my business. Not to her face, anyhow.
Later on, Missy has made spaghetti for the family, and MeeMaw and Dale had made up, much to my chagrin. She makes us say grace, also much to my chagrin. I'm not a Christian. I'm not staunchly and obnoxiously atheist like Sheldon. I'm unsure, really, what I believe. I go along with it to make Missy happy, just like I go along with it to keep up what semblance of peace I have left with our mother.
As we begin to eat, there's a knock on our door. We turn to the noise. Dad answers the door, and Pastor Jeff is there. It's hard to make out since I'm not devoting all of my attention to Jeff, but I catch something about a TV and not going to hell. He takes off, leaving the TV at Dad's feet.
After dinner, we watch baseball on the TV, complimenting its colour and size.
To me, at least, it feels like things might be okay from now on. MeeMaw can rebuild. Maybe we can all grow in the aftermath of this crisis. It starts with taking it day by day. Taking things as they come, with integrity and strength. As much as this family has, anyway. I smile to myself.
"What are you so happy about?" Georgie asks me, causing the other members of my family to look at me as well.
"I like this TV," I lie, the smile still on my lips.
"You're weird," Georgie comments.
I shrug in response. I might be weird, but I'm a Cooper, and that means everything to me.