TW // death//depression//family fighting

My mom had a meeting with a special kind of attorney to finalize my mom's will the following day, Saturday. I had to go shopping for a nice outfit that didn't consist of jeans and a baggy t-shirt like what I usually wore. I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for, a dress, a skirt, what, but I wasn't happy about having to spend my money on a girly outfit. Mom wanted to go with me, but she wasn't feeling well, so she asked Arnie to go instead. He agreed. Mom hadn't been feeling good since the night before, although part of me thought it was her attempting to get Arnie and I to hang out some more. She really dug the thought of us bonding like a father and daughter should. I have to admit, I dug it, too.

We went into the second-hand shop in town, which was a couple blocks away from the DX. There weren't many people there, some cashiers and a woman with her young daughter.

"Mommy, I like the pink nightgown sooooo much! Can I get it, pleaaaase?" the little girl pleaded. She couldn't have been much older than Greg and Claire.

"No, Elle, we can't afford it. We can barely get by with getting you new shoes."

I felt bad for them. I knew what it was like to live that way. I watched with a frown and furrowed eyebrows as the disappointed little girl followed her mom over to the shoes. Us greasers didn't have it too good this side of town. It was hard and jobs didn't pay too good most of the time. I was lucky. I had two jobs that paid decently for as minimal work as I did. I was able to help support my family and still have a little bit leftover to spend frivolously if I so desired. Still, I didn't have a lot of money, so I did have to be careful what I spent it on.

"What about this, Candice?" Arnie asked. I turned to see what he had found. The first thing I noticed was the old lady looking church outfit he found: a dark purple skirt with a lavender top and a matching cardigan. It looked like something your great aunt might wear to a wedding. The next thing I noticed was his shit-eating grin.

"God, no," I laughed, making him start cackling. Huh, I thought, we have the same laugh.

"Thought you'd like it," he said, still laughing. He hid the outfit back on the rack, in between some other tops on hangers.

"So, what should I be looking for?" I asked. "I've never gone dress shopping before. Well, I mean...I went dress shopping for homecoming with Evie, but that's the only time..."

"Evie?" asked Arnie.

"Steve's girl."

"You guys broke up?"

"Huh?"

"I thought you were dating Steve?"

"No," I laughed. "No no no. I'm with Ryan."

"Oh, that's right," he said. "So, how are you guys?"

"Uh...I don't know. He's moving soon. He's going to Ole Miss for college."

"That's a helluva school," Arnie said, frowning.

"Yeah...he asked if I'd go with him."

Arnie seemed to freeze. He let go of the jacket sleeve he'd been holding and turned to me. "What did you say to that?"

"I told him I didn't know. With everything that's going on here, I don't think I can leave. I have so much here right now and he's got a life to live out there, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, kiddo--er, sorry, Candice."

I looked up at him, confused.

"You don't remember? You told me not to call you 'kid'." That goofy grin of his was back.

I laughed. "It's alright," I said. "I don't mind so much anymore."

"'So much'."

"Alright, I don't mind at all. It's not a huge deal."

"Well, that's good. So, you gonna call me 'Dad' now?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"I know." He patted me on the back. "It's alright, Candice. It doesn't hurt my feelings. I know it's hard to grow up without a dad. And it's probably extremely awkward to have to start calling someone 'Dad' after sixteen years of not."

"Hey, I'll be seventeen soon." I grinned up at him, not even paying attention at the clothes I was grabbing now.

"Oh no. Seventeen. What are you gonna do with all that glory?"

"I'm gonna get my GED at college," I replied.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I figured, well, maybe college is better than high school. In high school, you're with a bunch of kids in cliques. In college, you're just there to get your stuff done and outta the way."

"I suppose so."

"Anyway, I kind of need an education to do anything, anyways."

"It sure does help. What are you gonna do after you get your GED?"

I shrugged. I hadn't actually thought that far ahead. It wasn't like I was good at much; I didn't write or draw or sing or play instruments. I just worked and got into trouble sometimes. I'd stolen stuff before, I'd once rolled a guy with Dallas (or, at least I'd been there with him and he stole a ring for me), and I cussed a lot more than a girl my age should. I wasn't all that innocent, not as much as I tried to pretend I was. Maybe going back to school was a way to redeem myself in a way. To be completely honest, I was ashamed that I'd dropped out in the first place. But maybe now, I could change everything.

"You'll figure it out." I smiled at my dad.

Arnie and I continued to look for an outfit for another five minutes. I was about to give up until he came up and tapped me on the shoulder. I dropped the navy blue skirt I'd been looking at and turned to see what he wanted. He held up a black, short sleeved dress with a white collar. Simple. I could see myself wearing it and I couldn't help but gape at it. 

"Yeah," I said. "I like it."

"Well, good. I like it, too. Go try it on so we can get the hell outta here." I grinned and shook my head, but took the dress and disappeared into the changing room. I switched into the dress. I liked the way it fit: it was slimming, but it didn't make me look sickly, either. Dresses usually brought out the wrong curves on me. Not that black dress though. I was in love with it.

I stepped out of the little room, my high tops still on, to show my dad. He got a good kick out of that, me wearing converse with a dress.

"I like it, kiddo," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. "I like it, too."

"Alright. Now, let's get that and go. Ice cream on me?"

"Sounds good."

I changed back into my jeans and t-shirt and we moved over to the cashier.

"Find everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine, thanks," I said. I paid for the dress and Arnie and I finally got out of there. I felt different buying that dress. I don't know what it was, but part of me felt like a traitor to myself. I was actually shopping for a dress that I didn't plan on returning the next day. In fact, I almost felt like wearing it around casually, as grim as that is (considering it was purchased to go talk to a lawyer about finalizing my mom's will).

After getting ice cream, Arnie and I made our way back home.

By the time we got there, it was nearing lunch time, about noon. Mom's meeting was in a couple hours, which gave me plenty of time to prepare something to eat for Greg and Claire and to get ready. I couldn't believe I was supposed to get myself all dolled up, and to go and talk about a will of all things. It was truly the saddest thing I think I'd ever endured up to that point, considering I'd been raising Greg and Claire since they were old enough to say their own names.

At a quarter after one, my mom and I made our way across town toward the courthouse.

"So, Arnie told me you were thinking of going back to school?" Mom asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I shouldn't have dropped out, but I'm giving myself another chance, so I'm gonna go back and continue my education."

"That's good. I'm proud of you." We stopped for a minute so she could catch her breath. It was her lungs. It made me stop and think about the night before when the whole gang had stopped for a smoke after saving Ponyboy. It was sick that, while my mother was dying of lung cancer, I was standing around smoking cigarettes. Christ.

"Hey, Candy Cane!" a loud voice boomed and we both looked up the street to see Soda and Steve with the girls.

"Hey, guys," I greeted half-enthusiastically. "How was the game?"

"Nevermind that, you're wearing a frigging dress?" Steve said, almost like he'd just learned Two-Bit had bought a tiger or something.

"Hafta," I said. "We have a meeting. How was the game?"

"It was good," said Soda.

"Yeah, well, we've gotta get going. I'll talk to you, later."

"Hey, Candy, wait," said Sandy. She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of bright red lipstick. "I know you hate makeup, but..."

"Alright, fine," I sighed. Hey, I was already wearing a dress. Might as well, right?

She quickly, and quite professionally, smeared the gloss on my lips and smiled as she stood back. "Looks good."

"Good God, look at our Candy Cane," said Steve. "Our little sister is all grown up and--and she's a girl!"

"Shut up, Randle," I said, shoving him. "I'll see you guys later."

"See you, Candice!" they called, varying the choice of nickname. My mom and I continued our walk down the street toward the courthouse.

"Hello, Johanna," the lawyer greeted as we walked into his office.

"Good to see you again, even under such depressing circumstances."

"And this is..."

"This is my oldest, Candice."

"Hi," I said. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too. I'm John." Mom and I took a seat in the leather chairs in front of his desk. "So, your last will and testament." I shuddered.

"Yes."

"So, you want your home to go to James Arnold Marshall."

"Yes, the house goes to him. And I would like to give James the guardianship over Candice Roxanne."

"Is he of biological relation?"

"Yes, her father."

"And my other two children, Gregory Aaron and Claire Ruth Anderson, will go to my parents Thomas Gregory and Sharon Anne Anderson in Buffalo."

I sighed. I knew she was going to do that. She was separating us. My grandparents didn't know a clue about the little kids. What about Greg's peanut allergy? Do they know that Claire has to have her Raggedy Andy doll to sleep? Greg only liked to listen to Elvis. Claire reads at least five books a day. Greg likes to grease his hair like the way Steve does his and Claire only wears her hair in complicated French braids. I bet they didn't know any of those things. To say I was infuriated about getting separated from them was an understatement.

I didn't pay attention the rest of the meeting. Sure, it might have been plenty selfish of me, but I couldn't help it. I mean, what would you do? (That's rhetorical).

*

"Candice, you can't stay angry with me forever!"

"I'm not angry," I lied. "I'm--I'm--"

"Angry? Pissed off?" I could hear the New York accent starting to come out in her voice, even after nearly eighteen years of not being in her home state.

"I'm disappointed!" I mean, that was true. "I raised those kids, Mama! I raised them! I may not be their biological mother, but I took care of them. I made sure to always check Greg's food for nuts. Claire always went to bed with Raggedy Andy. His name is Buddy, not Andy, by the way. She only ever called him Buddy."

"I'm just doing what's best for them! You're wanting to go back to school and Arnie knows nothing about them! He can't take care of three kids by himself."

"I can wait for school! And what about you?"

"What about me? You think I was capable of raising three damn kids by myself? I'm a horrible mother. I neglected you guys for alcohol and cigarettes and that's the reason I'm sick now, isn't it?"

"Jesus Christ, Mother."

"Don't you dare say it's not the truth, either. I know. I know what all I put you through. I know you raised those kids, baby, but you gotta understand that you're just a kid yourself. You gotta keep in mind that you gotta help yourself. Sending them off to my parents is the best thing for them. And they can rely on you to help make sure they're well taken care of."

I groaned and slid to the floor. I hated when she proved me wrong. Especially on something like that.

"Alright," I said. "Okay, Mama. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Candice. You have every right to be angry. But I also want you to understand that I'm just trying to settle everything before it's too late. I'm trying to be a good mom because this is my last chance to be. I don't know how long I have left, but I know I don't have very long. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, warm tears running down my cheeks. Fuck. For a girl who couldn't stand crying, I'd sure done a whole lotta that lately. "I understand," I said, sniffling and wiping my nose on the back of my hand. I didn't care how gross or "unladylike" it was. I was allowing myself to be upset then.

"What do you need, baby?"

"Nothin'."

"Yes, you need something. What'll make you feel better?" I knew there was only one person that could make me feel better then.

"I just want my mama."  

I'm sorrysorrysorry I actually kind of really dislike this chapter? I don't know. It's just sad. But I'm gonna be putting more elements of the actual Outsiders in it now that we're caught up to where the original story starts. I hope this was at least an okay chapter? :) (Sorry for leaving off on a sad chapter) Thanks for reading!