Just Checking Up Part Five: An Odd Book Club and a Found Family Member

Silks:

Sucking in a deep breath after a long nap, a wrinkled hand on my shoulder had me jumping ten feet into the air. Herb had to run some errands out of town, the library being the sole place with cameras. Mumbling something about a book club reserving the table, I couldn’t leave fast enough. Stealing away to a dark corner with my new laptop and worn leather bag, her cold icy blue eyes glared darkly at how his band t-shirt fell to my knees. Fussing with my new solid gray tights, my beat up sneakers didn’t speak of a person of respect. Shooting her a death glare, my palm rested on my slightly rounded bump. Huffing in disgust, a long sigh drew from my lips. People would never stop judging me for choosing to survive, my foot tapping incessantly. Grumpy elderly women with catty attitudes made their way into the old library, the emerald walls becoming my main focus. That was until they pulled out the book that became the bane of my existence, their floral blouses and matching silver blue pixie cuts floating up with excitement as they began to bad mouth me. Chewing on my lips, raw fury seethed within me. Scanning the cork event board, puzzle pieces placed themselves together. The gaggle of old hags was the True Crime Gals, an unimpressed expression haunting my features. Sliding my laptop into my bag, my arms folded across my chest. Enough was enough! Dragging a chair over, a sarcastic smirk shut down their harsh words. Setting my bag down gingerly, a throat clearing horrified them. Scooting back, a petite elderly woman sauntering in shut them down. Outshining them in an elegant black silk blouse and chic ivory pants, her slender fingers traced her pearls. Fluffing her shoulder length curls, her hand lowered to her hip. Deviousness twinkled in her sage eyes, her fingers drumming on the book defaming me.

“Ladies, the star of the book is at the table and you treat her like she is a monster. For shame. Our mothers didn’t raise us like heathens.” She berated them with a polite smile, the kind that would ice anybody’s soul. “This book was atrocious. Anyone with two brain cells could see that she was trying to survive. Forgive me, my name is Mavis Steeps. Please join our little true crime reading club. We get lunch after, Miss Silks. Right, ladies?” Brisk confirmations hit my eardrums, dread bubbling in my gut. Plopping down at the head to the table next to me, her hand cupped mine to comfort me. What was her game? Clammy sweat beaded on my brow, the color draining from my cheeks. Pure emotion drove me to this point, the next step not coming to fruition in my mind. Every breath shortened discreetly, her grip strengthening until my breathing settled down. How was she so calming? Perhaps life taught her to be such a saint.

“Don’t let them cluck in your ear. They are nothing but chatty little hens.” She whispered behind her hand, a small chuckle tumbling off of my tongue. “After lunch, please have a cup of tea with me. I like your moxie.” Winking before returning to the discussion, words faded in and out. Lack of intelligence kept me less than entertained, an eerie silence washing over them upon what had to be a brazenly rude question.

“Did you feel guilt for what you did?” A cold faced witch of a woman inquired seriously, her lips pursing into a confident expression. Flipping on how to play it, the scaring the crap out of her route could be entertaining while the other one sounded fucking painful.

“His mother is your friend.” I pointed out simply, her face falling answering my question. “Enough said. Put yourself in my shoes. Your parents are coming at you with the intent to end your life, what do you do? What would you all do? If laying down like a bitch is your answer, then aren’t built what I had to suffer through. I would cut her off before she drags you into whatever she has going on. Tell me, do you like being controlled by her opinion?” Blinking a few times, something had gotten through to them, a piece of paper landing in front of me. Horrible suggestions taunted me, a grimace planting itself on my lips.

“How about you try a few books about the psychology of serial killers? You might find them quite intriguing.” I urged with an annoying level of poison laced kindness, half of them sitting up with genuine curiosity. “Seems to be a few bites in the pond. Let me write them down for you.” Scribbling away, these books would be entertaining at the very least. Sliding the list down to her friend, it would do well for the Serpent Queen to give it a solid read.

“Maybe she should read it to understand me a bit better.” I spoke softly, real empathy lacing my voice. “Hope lies in them becoming a healthy mother and son again. She has to give up control and rude behavior.” Understanding what I was saying, alarms ringing irked the librarian. Staring numbly at the date on the calendar, the anniversary of my mother’s attack struck me in the heart. Shrinking back, tears welled up in my eyes.

“Morning sickness plagues me. Go on and have your lunch.” I choked out with a bright grin, my sneakers barely carrying me to the bathroom. Locking the stall behind me, her rotten hands pulled her underneath the door. Scurrying behind the toilet, violent sobs wracked my body. Leaning onto her elbow, her oily strands of hair bounced off of her peeling face. Playing with the slit in her throat, fear rounded my eyes. Clutching my chest, uncontrolled heartbeats radiated immense agony throughout it. Breathing rapidly, the increase in speed had the room stall spinning away. Why did this have to keep happening?

“Go away!” I screamed desperately between wheezes, a bloodied meat cleaver skidding to my sneakers. “You were coming after me, damn it! You made this monster!” Cupping the sides of my head, lights began to flicker around me. Feeling like that ten year old girl all over again, the door ripping open made her melt into the floor. Mavis yanked me into a motherly embrace, every emotion soaking her shoulder. Dangling my arms limply by my side, her next request throwing me off.

“Scream into my shoulder until you feel better.” She comforted me serenely, her palm rubbing my back. “Get some lunch with me after, just us. We are more alike than you know. Trust me.” Too shy to scream into her shoulder, sobs slowed into none. Releasing me from her embrace, her palm grazed my cheek. Wiping away my tears with her thumb, sympathy made her look younger. Helping me to my feet, shame had me averting my gaze to the floor. Lifting up my chin with her finger, gentle eyes forced me to focus.

“Darling, trauma haunts you more than I thought it could.” She mused with a sad smile, her attempt to lighten the mood failing. “Sorry for that. Tactfulness really isn’t my strong suit. Nor is it yours. Leaving you to suffer an anxiety attack in the bathroom isn’t my style and those hens can cackle at that overpriced restaurant.” Caving into her request for lunch, anything would be better than being alone today. Leather groaned as I sank into her fancy black town car. Clicking in my seat belt, the slam of my door covered her engine rumbling to life. Peeling onto the road, historical homes became ornate Victorian mansions. Pulling into a sage mansion, relief showed on her features. Twisting the key, signs of loneliness dotted her porch. Climbing out with mounting anxiety, her dainty laughter did little to settle my fraying nerves. Forgetting that Herb didn’t know where to pick me up, her slender fingers were dialing up a number. Mentioning his name after a playful hello, she laid out the situation for him. Inviting me up to the dark wooden door, her keys jingled until the lock clicked open. Locking it behind her, antique furniture from all eras lined the wall. A carved railing entertained me, the maple owl at the bottom of the sage carpeted stairs peeked into my soul. Soaking in the foyer, owl decor lined the walls and various shelves. Recognizing that as her favorite animal, wisdom being one of its characteristics having to be a key role in her favor of the bird.

“Owls are simply stunning birds, hunting from the sky. Yet they look gentle during the day.” She commented with a bemused smile, her finger popping into the air. “Herb is going to pick you up here. Heck, he might have dinner with us. Do you mind helping me cook it later?” Cheering up at the opportunity to cook, the very act helped me forget my stress. Noticing me shed a bit of stress, gears began to click in her head. Excusing herself, a stunning grandfather clock ticked in a never ending silence. Focusing on the silver hands, a few pictures of her younger self spoke of an equally traumatic life. Bright smiles hid a hard home life, her stern father forcing a perfect image upon a shaken up mother.

“Societal rules were different back then.” She mentioned nonchalantly, a tray clinking what had to be trembling hands. “Bad memories haunt these halls, his strict hand crushing my heart quite a bit. Once upon a time a diamond sparkled on my hand, cancer took him away from me before I could have children. My poor heart couldn’t bear to find my another soulmate.” Spinning on my heels, roles seemed to have shifted. Holding her hands to steady the tray, sorrow wet her eyes.

“If you need a daughter figure to care about, then you can count on me for that.” I assured her with my real smile, her features brightening visibly. “May I carry the tray into whatever room we will have tea in?” Relenting her grip on the tray, silent tears danced down her wrinkles. Following her into a lovely sitting room, a jade and ivory marble coffee table became the holder of the fine Blue Willow tray. Sinking into matching peacock printed chairs, owl and peacock decor blended into one. Pouring the painted owl teapot, tea trickled into the matching owl teacups. Sliding the cup over to her, tea splashed as she dropped two cubes of sugar into the steaming ginger tea.

“Sounds lovely. Can we have tea after that blasted book club?” She requested coyly, my heart skipping a beat. “Opening up to me isn’t so bad either. Suffering alone won’t do in my eyes. What frightened you in the bathroom?” Guilt ate at me, lying wouldn’t do. Scratching at my neck, a scab floated to my lap.

“Today is the anniversary of that nightmare.” I confessed dejectedly, sympathy leading her to set her teacup down. “Before you rushed in, her rotting corpse made her way underneath my stall door. As if that wasn’t enough, the meat cleaver made a guest appearance. I really need to get these panic attacks under control before I go into early labor. Sorry for invading your plans.” Waving my concern away, her tired eyes tracked me sipping the ginger tea. Slight nausea melted away, a bit of color returning to my cheeks.

“I can’t imagine suffering through that.” She returned sincerely, an egg salad sandwich waiting on her palm. “Sensing that I can’t do much besides be with you today, I would like to extend my mother’s best recipe to satisfy your hunger. Sorry for saying that so oddly. Congratulations. Herb wouldn’t shut up about that angel growing in that womb of yours. Sorry for saying that w-” Ending her mental spiral with a frantic wave of my hands, Mavis sure had nothing to worry about in my eyes. Her compassion knew no bounds, something about this feeling so natural.

“Feel free to feed me when I am here. There is no way on this Earth that my pregnancy is a secret around here. Do you want to feel the bump?” I offered with a friendly tone, the chair creaking as I rose to my feet. Glass clanged as I set the teacup down, wonder illuminating her eyes at me placing her palm on the round surface. Basking in the moment, Mavis felt like family. Suffering through what I had showed me that found family often proved better in the long run. Bringing her hand to her lap, the corner of her lips quivered. Panic wrote itself all over my face, pure bliss shimmered in her eyes.

“Thank you for including me. Nice to see that my aura reading skills are still sharp.” She sniffled adorably, her hand wiping away her tears. “Rip grew up in these halls during the summer. You know, babysitting. What a sweetie. I have pictures. Do you want to see?” Plucking out a couple of photo albums, a tug of the closest peacock inspired chair had me sitting next to her. Flipping the top album open with an eagerness in her eyes, a much younger Rip had scarlet flushing my cheeks. Chattering away, cute stories stole my heart away. Sensing that she was feeling better with every word, five chimes had her on her feet. Mumbling something about dinner, a ring had me shrinking back. Rushing off to answer the door, pleasant greetings were exchanged. Rip poked his head in, Herb hovering in the other corner of the door frame. Letting himself in, his suit jacket hung off of his shoulder.

“Thank you for inviting me over, Miss Mavis. Many thanks for taking care of Silks. She wasn’t too rude to you, right?" He teased playfully, his eyes flitting down to the way his shirt clung to the curve of my bump and tender breasts. “Nah, there is no way she disrespected you. Assuming I know her, a weekly get together is on the calendar.” Coming out of the kitchen with a fresh cup of lemonade, his attention shifted back to her. Slipping away to her bathroom, anxiety slipped her cold fingers around my neck. Where did I fit into all of this happy little family?

“You don’t.” My mother’s cold voice grated into my ears, her gray rotting fingers curling around my shoulders. “Give up and run away like you always do. Quit playing this foolish role!” Shivering in front of the mirror, her milky eyes glowered in my direction. Twisting her mouth into a twisted grin, rotted teeth clattered into the sink. Color drained from my cheeks, every breath shortening. Fighting a racing heart rate, my fingers scratched away at my neck. Begging for this to stop, wild sobs wracked my body. Beginning to wheeze, the pale green tile began to race around me, her grip tightening. Laughing maniacally, pleas for this to stop failed to be more than tiny whispers. Covering my ears, her taunts wouldn’t go away. Getting worse by the second, muscle gave out, the door flying open before I could hit the floor. Rip’s strong arms caught me, his lips brushing against the top of my head. Sinking to the floor without shame, worry mixed with love upon him figuring out what to do next. Dissolving into the floor, my hallucination decided to leave the building.

“What brought on this level of a panic attack?” He queried seriously, my lips parting several times. Burying my face into his shoulder, not one cell of me wanted to discuss it with him. Shame dug into my soul, his finger lifting up my chin. Pleading with me to answer his question with his pensive frown, my lips pressed into a thin line.

“Do you know what today is? Today is the day I fucked up my life for the all of eternity. A group of old hens decided that they could read a book that ripped me apart and judge me openly. Mavis chose to rescue me when my dead mother chose to visit me in the bathroom at the damn library. No one but you three like me.” I sobbed uncontrollably, a long sigh reeking of guilt and relief. “Your mother got to the whole damn town and I can’t even fucking buy groceries without getting whispered about. I pretend it doesn’t hurt but it freaking does. Now you are acting like a family and I don’t belong. Part of me wants to run, the other half wanting to stay. You should l-” Kissing my lips tenderly, my breathing slowing down. Releasing me from his spell, his broken smile shattered my heart.

“Like it or not, you are a part of this wacky family.” He chuckled through sniffles, the light never leaving his eyes. “Look, the townspeople can suck an egg. They never enjoyed my antics either. Mavis swooped in and babysat me when no one else would. Such a kind soul. I do know what today is. That is why I brought your favorite dessert here. It won’t fix what happened but it can soften the blow. Before you pull yourself back together with whatever magic you have in your pocket, Mavis loves you. She wouldn’t invite you to suffer through that book club if she hated you, okay?” Nodding my head, his thumbs wiped away my tears. Helping me to my feet, his steady hands erased any signs of crying. Getting on his knees, a gentle slide of my shirt exposed our future kid. Embracing my waist, his wet cheek pressed against it. Grounding himself from whatever trauma he was facing, pride glittered in his eyes. Smooching it feverishly, a fit of laughter burst from my lips. Whatever fresh hell came my way, we would figure it out together.