Closets stuffed with a wide variety of outdated clothes, cabinets filled with countless appliances, and shelves stocked with books carefully wrapped in newspapers (“To protect the covers”, Charlotte explained) were what stood out to Lorraine in the Rollings household when they arrived there next morning. Nearly everything had to be packed into boxes, plenty of which, in a folded state, were found in the downstairs storage room along with packing tape.
“So, what are you all waiting here for?” Mrs. Rollings asked the three huffing children who just finished carrying all these necessities to the apartment upstairs. “Get to work!”
Lorraine gasped with resentment for around the fiftieth time in the past sixteen hours. Not that she had never dreamt of being Cinderella, but she had always focused on the part where she would go to the ball, meet the prince, and most importantly, see the outrage in her stepmother and stepsisters’ faces, and absolutely overlooked the many years of work that preceded this reward.
“What about you?” she asked Mrs. Rollings as Eugene started unfolding and taping the bottom of the boxes and Charlotte opened the bedroom closet. “Won’t you be packing with us?”
“Absolutely not. Your mother and I will be looking at documents and preparing the leasing contract.”
“Won’t you at least show us what we should be doing?” Lorraine suggested.
“I’m sure Eugene and Charlotte already know how to pack, considering what they’ve been up to for the past week. Now start helping them, and I don’t want to see you or either of them slacking off.” The old lady then turned to Lorraine’s mom. “Don’t tell me you didn’t accustom your child to work, Joanne!”
“You’re right, I have to start doing something about that,” Lorraine’s mom agreed treacherously, having thrown a glance at her daughter who was still sniffing furiously by the door.
Lorraine thought of complaining that it was too hot for any physical tasks today (after all, Charlotte even took off her sweater to remain in an oversized T-shirt with a couple of patches), but then she suddenly remembered the decision she made this morning to prove to all the adults that she was better than her sister. Maybe this would add up to her authority in any future arguments they might have.
To Lorraine’s surprise, packing was actually interesting at first, when Eugene showed her how to assemble boxes to make them neat and durable and Charlotte taught her an easy way to fold clothes. She especially liked writing in her nice block letters on slips of paper what every box contained and whether it was to be transported to the Allens’, Jack’s, or Mrs. Rollings’s new home, which Charlotte than carefully taped on top of the boxes. However, the mundane task soon became boring, and after another box, Lorraine realized that she was extremely tired of folding and taping, despite her older peers continuing the task just as energetically.
“Perhaps I was a bit too hard on a child like you,” Mrs. Rollings concluded, seeing Lorraine slump onto a box. “Why don’t you pick yourself a book to read?”
Lorraine reached into an unclosed box which contained books, opened one at random, and noticed nearly immediately that it was a dictionary. She could swear now that it was exactly for this day and for her annoyance that the Rollings wrapped book covers in newspapers. She found something more or less fictional after a couple tries and confessed to herself that she had never enjoyed reading as much ever before.
When it was finally about time for lunch, Lorraine’s mom wanted to drive everyone back to the Allens’ place; however, the boxes containing all of Charlotte’s stuff left room only for three people in her car. Lorraine’s mom first wanted to transport everyone in two rounds - after all, it was only a few minutes’ drive away - but Eugene and Charlotte volunteered to walk, arguing that they could easily make it to lunch at 2:30 PM.
“Alright, but make sure to not be late. Especially you,” Lorraine’s mom put her hand onto Eugene’s shoulder and waited for him to look into her eyes. “I don’t know what Alice would do to you if you aren’t on time, young man. And please keep in mind that as a devoted worker in the medical field, I would absolutely support her.”
Upon dropping off her daughter and the old lady at her cousin’s townhouse, Lorraine’s mom immediately departed again because Aunt Alice asked her to drive Dylan home from work. Lorraine already knew that the main reason behind Eugene and Charlotte’s admiration of their cousin was the fact that he had three four-hour shifts per week at a local cafe, but she couldn’t comprehend why this made him so respected.
She was sitting, or to be more specific, half-laying down on the bed in the guest room (the Allens did not have a living room – Charlotte explained that they turned theirs into a guest bedroom) and not even having enough energy to turn on the thick TV, when she heard a knock on the front door. She sighed, stood up, and looked outside through the window, and to her surprise, it wasn’t Eugene and Charlotte or even her mom and Dylan who knocked. Instead, she saw the two girls who had briefly come in yesterday, Margaret and Martha. Lorraine was planning to go tell Aunt Alice and Mrs. Rollings, who were busy arguing in the kitchen, about them (after all, they were strangers, and children like Lorraine weren’t supposed to open the door to strangers), but suddenly, Martha noticed her looking and beckoned to her.
Her interest peaking, Lorraine ended up deciding that Margaret and Martha weren’t really the type of strangers she had to be wary of. If asked, she could always say she knew them - weren’t they Eugene’s and Charlotte’s friends, maybe even close friends if they were invited in yesterday?
Lorraine turned the lock and opened the door. “Why are you here?” she asked rather rudely.
“We’re returning Eugene’s stuff, of course,” Margaret replied, wrapping her left braid onto her left index finger and using her right index finger to point to the sweatshirt she borrowed yesterday under Martha’s arm. “Would you be kind enough to give it to him?”
“Perhaps I would,” Lorraine replied and stretched out her hand. Martha extended the sweatshirt towards Lorraine, but Margaret intercepted it.
“Where is Eugene, anyway?” she asked Lorraine, hiding the sweatshirt behind her back. “Is he at Charlotte’s place, by any chance? And where was he all morning?”
“No, they’re walking back now,” Lorraine replied. “And we spent the morning packing up. Charlotte’s grandmother is moving, and she’s going to live here at Eugene’s place. Can you now give me the sweatshirt?”
The last phrase clearly missed Margaret and Martha’s ears. Upon hearing the news of Charlotte’s move, they turned towards each other, hands clasped at their mouths (Margaret dropped the sweatshirt), and simply blinked quickly for a few seconds. Margaret was the first one to let out an “ow-w-w”, after which both of the girls started giggling hysterically.
“Why are you laughing?” Lorraine asked, instantly forgetting about the sweatshirt. “Hey, tell me, why are you laughing?” And as the absolutely last measure she just remembered, “Please?”
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