She gazed after her mother, her vision swimming. Nausea overwhelmed her as she realized what her mother would think of the way she had acted tonight. Catherine had spilled cocktail sauce on Teagan and gotten canned. Her mother hadn't even fired Marcia for stealing.
She would be so ashamed of me, Teagan thought, her face heating up. She would hate me.
Teagan turned her attention toward the party, where little Teagan was passing out her gifts to all of her friends, letting
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them open the boxes and play with the new toys. Teagan had no recollection of ever doing that. She couldn't even imagine letting someone else play with her stuff before she did. Was that really her in there?
"Here. I'll give you a bow," little Teagan said to Emily. She pulled a striped ribbon out of her costume set and tied it around the bottom of one of Emily's braids. Gary, meanwhile, sat at little Teagan's side, tightening another of the ribbons around his index finger until the tip turned purple.
"Teagan? Can I play with this?" Jennifer asked, holding up a pink Barbie Corvette.
"Go ahead," little Teagan said with a shrug. She grabbed another ribbon and started working it around Emily's other braid.
Jennifer Robbins always broke everything she got her hands on, Teagan thought, amazed. But little Teagan didn't seem to care. She just looked like she was having fun.
Teagan watched as her father lifted little Teagan up and swung her around. Little Teagan squealed and laughed, tilting her head back and trying to grab as many balloon ribbons as possible. Her mother, seated back in her place, laughed as well.
"Whaddaya say we do our dance number?" Teagan's father asked, placing little Teagan on the floor.
"Yeah!" little Teagan cheered.
Her father went over to the CD player and cued up a new song. She saw him crank up the volume and instantly Stevie Wonder's "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" filled the room. Teagan's father turned around and started grooving back toward little Teagan in a totally cheesy way. Little Teagan clapped and laughed.
Teagan's tears welled up all over again as she remembered how her twelve-year-old self had so callously dismissed
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this tradition. And look how much her father clearly reveled in it. He sang along with Stevie--badly--grinning as he lifted little Teagan onto his feet and started dancing her around the room.
"God, no wonder he thinks he failed with me," Teagan whispered. "I was so mean to him later."
She watched her young self singing along and swinging her hair and loving every minute of her father's attention. She looked up at him like he was some kind of god. Like no other man in the world existed. And the love was just as evident on her father's face. Just as clear as day.
The song ended and all the parents in the room applauded. Teagan watched as her father twirled little Teagan one last time and deposited her in her mother's lap. Her mom lifted a slim box from the end table next to her and handed it to little Teagan.
"This is from me," she said.
Little Teagan's eyes widened in awe.
"Do you know why you're getting this present?" Teagan's mother asked.
"'Cuz I'm six today!" little Teagan announced.
"That's true," her mother said. "But it's also because you are the most lovely, generous, big-hearted girl in all the world. And I love you."
Teagan snatched a tear away from her eye. She refused to cry again.
Little Teagan ripped open the gift and revealed a Gucci box. From inside she unfurled a colorful paisley silk scarf. "Oooooh!" she said, sliding it around in her hands. "It's so slippery!"
Teagan's mother laughed. "Do you like it?"
"Yeah," little Teagan said with a nod.
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She didn't get it. She didn't get that the gift was too sophisticated for her. She didn't know that her mother was only giving it to her because she knew that she was dying. She knew that she would never have the chance to give an older Teagan a gift like that. It wasn't until years later, the scarf tucked under her pillow, that Teagan had realized what her mother had done. She had tried to give Teagan a last birthday gift that she could keep for a lifetime.
Little Teagan draped the scarf around her shoulders and her mom tied a little knot in it to keep it there, like a cape. Little Teagan smiled at her mom. She reached up and touched the necklace around her mother's neck.
"Can I wear the magic necklace?" she asked. "Please?"
Teagan's mother touched the pendant resting against her chest. "I don't know," she answered, tilting her head. "Only a very special person can handle the magic this necklace holds."
Magic, Teagan thought with a rush of realization. That's right. She always said that necklace was magic. Was that why her own ghost had come to her tonight? Because her father had given her this necklace? For the first time all night Teagan wished the ghost was there with her. She was the only one who could answer these questions.
"I'm a very special person!" little Teagan announced.
"That's right!" her mother said, feigning surprise. 'You are!"
"What kind of magic does it have?" Emily asked, leaning against the side of the chair along with ever-silent Gary. "Does it blow stuff up?"
"No! Nothing like that!" Teagan's mother said, reaching around to unclasp the necklace. "It helps you see things that no one else can see."
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"Like invis-dible things?" little Teagan asked, keeping her eyes trained on the pendant.
"Sort of," her mother said, cradling the necklace in her palm.
Little Teagan, Emily, and Gary leaned in and stared down at the necklace like it was glowing. They were obviously in awe.
"So can I wear it?" little Teagan asked. "Of course you can," her mother said.
She placed the necklace around little Teagan's tiny neck and it hung down over the scarf, practically to her belly button. Little Teagan picked it up and smiled. Her mother gathered her up and hugged her to her chest tightly. Teagan's heart split wide open, wishing that was her--present-day her. She wanted that hug. She had never wanted anything more.
"Oh, my sweet one," Teagan's mother whispered to her, trying to hold back tears. "Never change. Promise me you'll never change."
Teagan couldn't take it anymore. She got up and started across the room. She was going to rip that little kid out of her mother's arms and take her place if it killed her.
She took one step and the ghost appeared in front of her, expression stoic, her back to the living room.
"No!" Teagan cried, realizing. "No! Don't!"
But the ghost grabbed her arm and in a rush of warm wind, Teagan's mother faded before her eyes.
"You can't do this to me!" Teagan wailed tearfully. "Take me back! I want to see my mom!"
But she was alone again. Her ghost had disappeared once more. Teagan recognized her parents' room instantly. The
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light-blue-and-white-striped wallpaper. The delicate white curtains. The light yellow accents on the bed. The black-and- white photographs of beach scenes --crashing surf, reeds blowing in the wind, a seagull standing on top of a pylon. Teagan's mother loved the beach. They had kept a house at the New Jersey shore when Teagan was very young. It was the first thing her father had sold after her mom died. Teagan had always resented him for that. She knew that her mother would have wanted them to keep going there together. To enjoy her favorite place.
Now Teagan's father sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes and socks. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn to the party. The only light in the room came from the open door to the adjoining bathroom.
"It was a lovely party, wasn't it?" Teagan's mother said, stepping into the light. She rubbed moisturizer over her hands and arms. In her flimsy white nightgown she was all skin and bones. Her mother's obvious frailty took Teagan's breath away. Already she was losing ground to the cancer.
"Everyone had a great time," Teagan's father said. "Come here and sit. You look tired."
Teag
an's mother smiled slightly. "I am tired. I'm always tired."
She was shaky on her feet as she crossed to the bed and sat down. The dark purple circles under her eyes were highlighted by the near translucence of her skin. Teagan almost thought she could see the white of her mother's cheekbones showing through. Either the party had completely ravaged her mother, or she had been wearing a lot of makeup earlier that day. She looked like a different person.
"Did you see her today?" Teagan's mother said. "She
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handed out cake to everyone else before she would even take a bite."
"She's an amazing kid," her father agreed, taking her mother's hand.
"I'm so proud of her," Teagan's mom said, her eyes welling up. "She's such a sweetheart." She took a deep breath and looked into her husband's eyes. "Do you think she'll hate me after I--was
"Shhh. Do not finish that sentence," Teagan's father said. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her mouth. "She will never hate you. I will make sure that she knows exactly what an incredible woman her mother is."
"Was."
His face contorted like his heart was breaking.
'You have to get used to using the word was, Michael," Teagan's mother said.
"Don't say that," Teagan's father insisted. "I don't want you thinking that way."
Teagan's mother took a deep breath. "Michael, I --was
She paused, and what little color she had left her. Her eyes bulged and she was suddenly on her feet, running for the bathroom.
"Lauren?"
The retching was loud and intense. Teagan closed her eyes and turned toward the wall, but she couldn't shut down her imagination. In her mind she could see her mother doubled over, her tiny body racked with pain as she threw up, her delicate fingers clinging to the towel bar. She had seen it so many times as a kid. All that fear came rushing back to her--the confusion, the uncertainty. Just like that, Teagan was a scared six-year-old again.
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"Lauren."
"Don't come in here!"
Teagan's father was on his feet, but he stopped in the center of the room when his wife shouted at him. He looked like a little kid being shouted at by a teacher. So small and scared.
"Why are you showing me this?" Teagan shouted to no one, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. "Haven't you tortured me enough already?"
The water ran in the bathroom and Teagan heard her mother gargling. A moment later she stepped out again and smiled apologetically at her husband.
"All those years of dieting and now I would give anything to be able to eat one meal and know I was going to keep it down."
Teagan's stomach turned. Her father stepped up to his wife and ran his fingers gently through her thinning hair. "Chemo sucks."
"Chemo sucks," her mother repeated, then grinned as if spitting out those words made her feel better. Teagan couldn't believe her parents could joke at a time like this.
It's what got them through, a little voice in her mind said. Joking about the awfulness. It's what got them through it all.
"Let's get you to bed," Teagan's father said, reclaiming Teagan's attention.
He leaned down and lifted her mother into his arms like he was lifting a small child. Teagan's heart caught so hard she instinctively held her hand over her chest. She had never seen her father do anything so intimate and kind. Her mom leaned her head on his chest and draped her arms around his neck until he deposited her in the bed. He pulled the covers up over her legs and sat at her feet.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked.
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"No. I just want to sleep," she said. "Promise me you'll never let Teagan become a diet fiend like her dear old mom."
"Lauren -- his
"I want her to enjoy life. I want her to love herself. I want her to realize every day how beautiful she is," Teagan's mom said, sliding down under the covers.
"She is," Teagan's father said. "And so are you. I think she would be damn lucky to turn out just like her mom."
Teagan's vision swam with unshed tears. She wanted so much to be like her mother, but the more she saw, the more she realized she was anything but. All her mother wanted in the world was to be able to keep her food down and Teagan spent half her time trying not to eat.
I'm everything she didn't want me to be, Teagan realized. I'm a huge, disgusting disappointment.
"Take me out of here!" Teagan shouted at the ceiling, tears streaking down her face. "Please! I get the point, all right? I'll be a better person! I'll be the person my mom wanted me to be! But please! I need to get out of here!"
Finally the ghost appeared in front of Teagan and placed her hand on her arm.
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Interview with Teagan Phillips re: Upcoming Sweet Sixteen Party- Transcript 4, cont'd. Reporter: Melissa Bradshaw, Senior Editor, Rosewood Prep Sentinel
MB: Well, you seem pretty confident that this party is going to rock fairly hard. Any concerns?
TP: No. None. I'm ready.
MB: Really? You're not worried that the chef won't show or the pictures won't come out or the makeup artist will be going through her Ronald McDonald phase?
TP: Missy, Missy, Missy, I have everything planned down to the letter. I had all my contracts notarized. I haven't paid a single one of my vendors their full fees and I won't until they deliver everything on time and in impeccable order. Trust me. Nothing can possibly go wrong.
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Teagan tried to quiet her sobs, shivering as she felt herself reform once again. She was petrified. Scared to open her eyes and find herself . . . where? At another funeral? Watching someone else she had devastated without even realizing it? Reliving more horrors from her past?
"Seen enough?" the ghost asked.
Teagan heard a rumble of thunder and opened one eye. She was back in the country club's basement. Upstairs, the music pounded. Someone let out a loud whoop that was followed by a universal cheer. People were having fun.
"Sorry I couldn't go with you, kiddo, but I wasn't sure I could handle all that," the ghost said.
"Mom must be so disappointed in me," Teagan said. She was so ashamed she could barely speak. "Wherever she is, she's looking down on me and frowning."
"Not just you," the ghost said. "U."
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Teagan swallowed. Nodded. Wished there was a place she could curl up in a ball and just disappear.
"But you can change all that," the ghost said firmly. "You can change who you are. Who you'll become. You've been given a second chance."
Teagan felt a little fluttering in her heart. "I... I have," she said slowly, shivering all over. "I'm not dead. I ... I have my whole life in front of me."
"Yes! Yes, you do!" the ghost said, her eyes wide. "And you have to change it. You will become me if you don't do something now. I was rich, yeah. Stinking, filthy rich. But it didn't matter. I was also bored almost every day. And very, very lonely. Do you realize that not one person acknowledged my last birthday on earth? Not one! I alienated everybody. I cared for no one and as a result, no one cared for me!"
Teagan held herself against the onslaught of goose bumps as she watched the ghost start to pace in front of her.
That's me, she thought, shivering. That's who I become.
"You have to do something, Teagan!" the ghost ranted, opening her hands to the sky. "You have to change now, before it's too late. You have to start appreciating the people in your life. The ones that matter--not the shallow morons like Max Modell. Who cares about freakin' Max Modell? What did he really mean to you? I mean, really? All you cared about was being seen with him. All you cared about was that he was the hottest guy in school. I mean, if you actually cared one iota about him, you would have been devastated when you saw him with his tongue down Lindsee's throat. You would have been heartbroken! But what did you say when you saw them?"
"I ...uh..."
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'You pointed out that Lindsee's butt was bigge
r than yours!" the ghost shouted. "Do you realize how shallow that is?"
Teagan looked at the floor. Normally she would be royally pissed if someone spoke to her like that, but now she found herself smiling. Starting to laugh. How ridiculous was she? Was that what she had really said? She thought about Max and realized that the idea of being without him didn't really bother her at all. It was when she thought about him with Lindsee that her skin started to prickle. She was concerned about the competition, not the guy.
"You have to forge some real relationships, Teagan," the ghost said, squaring off in front of her. "You need a little depth in your life or else it's not really a life. It's just a fashion show. And let me tell you something about fashion shows. Once they're over, ninety-nine percent of the people who witnessed them forget every single thing they've seen."
Teagan swallowed hard, thinking of the turnout at her funeral. It seemed everyone had forgotten her before she had even died.
My funeral. My lame, deserted, sad funeral. Teagan knew she would never forget what she had seen in her future. It would never stop giving her chills.
"Okay," Teagan said, standing up straight. "I get it."
"Do you?" the ghost asked shrilly.
"Yes! I swear! I get it!" Teagan shouted.
She grasped the diamond heart around her neck and ripped it as hard as she could, breaking the delicate chain. She tossed the heart on the floor, dug through her purse, and came out with her mother's necklace. Her fingers fumbled, but she was finally able to secure it around her neck. The second the
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cool crystal touched her skin, she felt calm. She felt confident. She felt happy.
Teagan smiled at the ghost. Slowly the ghost smiled back.
"I get it," Teagan said calmly.
The ghost nodded. "You know, I actually think you do."
"Is this why you came to me tonight?" Teagan asked, touching the necklace. "Did Mom send you?"
"I don't know," Ghost Teagan said with a smile. "But I hope so."
The two Teagans stared into each other's eyes. Suddenly Teagan was overwhelmed by all the things she wanted to say. She wanted to thank the ghost. She wanted to apologize to her. She wanted to tell her that she wouldn't let her down. They weren't going to be dying before they ever had the chance to really live. Not anymore. Everything was going to change.