The Keys to my Diary: Fern

2. Wednesday, March 18

Wednesday, March 18

I had an awesome birthday, thanks to Marina and our other friends. My mother failed to call me. No surprise there. I’ll call her later in the week. When I mention my birthday, she’ll find some way to blame me for not reminding her about it.

Kent called to wish me a happy birthday, of course. He is one of my mother’s many past husbands, but he is the only one who matters to me. I still wish he could be my real father. Of all the men my mother fooled around with during my childhood, he is the only one who made me feel loved and important. He even offered to adopt me during their brief marriage. I refused, because even at the tender age of eight, I knew from past experience that my mother wouldn’t stay tied to one person for long. Although I was right about that, Kent made a point to keep me in his life, even after he remarried and had a son of his own. Since my mother doesn’t know (or simply isn’t willing to tell me) who my real father is, I used to pray every night that Kent could be my dad. Ironically, he is one of the few men on earth who I can be certain is not my father, since they met when I was six years old. It doesn’t matter, though, because in my heart, he’s my dad.

My ragtag group of friends decided to take me out to celebrate my birthday at the local Mexican restaurant. It is so nice to feel like part of a cohesive group. We have all moved away from our family and the lives we knew before moving to the Keys, so we have formed our very own makeshift family. People come and go from the group, but we care about each other deeply. What started as a quiet evening quickly changed into a raucous laugh-fest upon the arrival of our food. The waitress warned us that it was very hot. Frank’s know-it-all best friend, Rick, failed to listen to her and immediately dug in. We could all tell by the wide-eyed look on his face that the food was burning his mouth. Frank asked him if it was hot, and when Rick opened his mouth to say “no,” a plume of smoke rose from his lips. He looked like a steam locomotive. The entire table saw and erupted into hysterics, even Rick finally had to chuckle before mumbling that the waitress should have told him that she really meant it. What a dork.

For the first time ever, the Keys witch joined us for dinner, and I had the pleasure of sitting right next to her. Her real name is Glinda. Yes, just like the good witch on the Wizard of Oz. She’s not really a witch… I don’t think… but there is no shortage of folklore and rumors that surround her. She has long, dark hair that falls almost to her knees. It is always perfectly straight and tangle-free. That alone makes me think she must have some mystical powers. No one seems to know when she arrived in the Keys or exactly how old she is. I would guess that she is somewhere between forty and sixty years old, but even that wide range could be off by ten years in either direction. She knows everything about everyone, and it’s said that if you get on her dark side, she’ll put a hex on you and your family. I hope I never personally find out about that. I’ve been fascinated by her since I moved down here, but this was the first chance I ever had to speak directly with her. Of course, I froze up on my big opportunity and couldn’t think of much to say, except that I liked her flowing dress, which was true. She nodded and looked at me like she could see into my soul. It was very unnerving. Witch or not, she exudes a powerful aura.

I sat across the table from Jared. He’s a newcomer to our group. He has curly, brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. While he’s not drop-dead gorgeous, he is kind of handsome in a boy-trapped-in-a-man’s-body kind of way. But, who am I to judge? It’s not like I’m a blonde bombshell. I think he is younger than me. I would guess that he’s 30-ish. I’m pretty sure that he likes me because sometimes I see him gazing at me. He always smiles shyly and looks away when I catch him. My heart does a little pitter-patter at the thought that something might be brewing between us. I can definitely use a little romance in my life. I think I’ll explore this further.

As is usually the case with a large group of people, when the bill came, we all threw in ‘our share,’ and the pile in the middle came up short. I tossed in an extra $10 to make up the difference, and I was happy to do it. This group is fun and full of life, and they mean the world to me. What’s an extra ten bucks in the big scheme of things?