"Are you sure that you really want to go to this party?" Morticia asked her husband, Gomez, as she brushes her hair.
"Why, yes. Don't you want to come with me?" he asked putting on his suit jacket.
"Coming with you, yes. However…" her voice faded and he knew what she meant by that.
"You are not nervous, are you?"
"As if you do not know my reasons. Gomez, you are talking to me, Morticia; and I doubt that you do not know I never get nervous," she replied as she let down her hair with a hint of frustration.
"You never get nervous," he agreed putting on his shoes. "However, there is one instance –"
"I know. Our wedding," she replied pointedly, though her cheeks showed a hint of pink, showing her embarrassment. "Do not change the subject."
"You are getting like your previous suitor; Lucius Malfoy, if I am not mistaken?"
She once again let her hair fall like some veil. She looked even more flushed.
"First, my nervousness before our wedding, now Lucius; you are not aiming to make me blush, are you?" she asked looking at him through the mirror. "What does Lucius have to do with our conversation?"
"He despises non wizarding people, those who he calls… what was it? Mungles?"
Morticia suppressed a chuckle. "Muggles, my love. Anyway, I have grown rather fond of your colleagues and their wives and husbands." She once again pulled her hair up, examining herself on the mirror. "But this arrangement is quite gaga. A debut- like 50th birthday? What are they, mad?"
"I was quite surprised by it, also. But you know…" his voice faded. He watched her almost threw her brush away out of frustration.
"What is wrong? If you do not wish to go, I understand, I could just –"
"No, it isn't about coming or not. I do not know what to do with my hair and that frustrates me…"
"Oh! I thought you were… well, I… I cannot help you with that matter, my love."
Morticia sighed and opened the bedroom door just in time when Pubert was passing the hallway.
"Pup!" she called using his nickname.
He swiftly turned around and trotted towards her, just like how Gomez used to do – and does up until now. "Yes, Mother?" he asked.
"Would you mind fetching your sisters, Wednesday and Mysticque, and brother, Pugsley for me?"
"Not at all, Mother," he replied. "But might I ask something?"
"What is it, my dear?"
"Why am I supposed to call my siblings, Mother? Is there something important going on?"
"This matter is not that important. Fetch your sisters and brother and you will soon find out. Alright? Did I give you enough reason?"
"Not enough, but, I will know, right?" he asked innocently, his eyes shining very brightly.
"Yes, you will…" she replied smiling at him. "Go on now."
He winked at her lovingly in which she returned by winking back before he trotted off.
She shook her head with a smile as she closed the door.
"What did you call them in for?" he whispered behind her, giving her a jump.
"Gomez!" she scolded warningly. "I just want opinions, since you would not give yours."
"Tish! I am bad at those!" he whined.
Morticia laughed before answering his response. ""Bad at those"? Since when are you bad at something? I thought you are good at all departments. Not to mention you're rather satisfactory in a certain specialty of yours, am I right?" she asked with her voice lowering a bit.
"Uh… well…" he replied caddishly with a smile. He reached for her waist but then, was interrupted by the knocking outside their door.
"Sorry…" she whispered before she slithered away from him to open the door. "Oh, good! It is the four of you. You are really handy, little Pup," she said giving him a soft kiss on the forehead.
"Mother…" he said in a slight whine.
"Oh, sorry… I didn't mean to." She straighten up and looked at her children from eldest to youngest with a great difficulty – Wednesday, 25, Pugsley, 24, Pubert, 12, and Mysticque, physically 15 but basically, 8. "Why don't you come inside for a while as I give you a little talk?"
The children entered the room they are not usually allowed to enter and looked around for the new features they never seen on their last visit.
"I asked you to come here because I want honest opinions from the each of you," she began sitting down on the bed next to Mysticque. "Do not look so nervous, children. In which style should I wear my hair for the celebration your father and I are about to attend? Hair down, as I usually wear it, or pulled up in a bun?" she questioned demonstrating both as she spoke. She looked at Mysticque first.
"For me, I think you'd look much mysterious with your hair down, like usual," she suggested. Then they all looked at Pubert.
"I think, that maybe, for a bit of change, you must pull your hair up in a bun, Mother," he contradicted. Mysticque looked a bit hurt in which Morticia put her arm around for comfort.
"I totally agree with my little…" Pugsley began at which Mysticque and Pubert both looked expectant. "… brother." He finished. All heads turned to face him. Mysticque looked as if she was about to cry as Pubert looked a bit smug. "You would allure more men with your hair up, Mother." He turned to face his father. "Father, no offense."
Gomez nodded with a smile. "I do know what you mean by that, son."
"What about you, Wednesday? Mysticque, do not look like that, your sister's opinion will be heard, and she might have the same opinions as yours. Which do you think looks better?" Morticia asked her eldest child.
Mysticque sighed and stared at her sister hopefully. "You do agree with me, don't you?" she asked feeling a bit hurt, being outnumbered by her brothers.
"If I am the one to wear your hair," she said thoughtfully. "I would prefer to let it down. But –" she cut herself setting Mysticque to become morose again. "– I cannot decide because you look good on both styles, Mother."
"Your father already said that, Wednesday," she replied. "Your opinion. Just say either."
"Well, it is just my opinion –"
"THAT is what I needed from you in the first place."
"Down. Let it down."
"Finally," commented Pugsley in a whisper to Pubert. Unfortunately, Wednesday heard it. And she shot daggers to Pugsley.
"Oh, thank you, Wednesday!" blurted out Mysticque.
"Gomez," Morticia called as their children piled out the door.
"Yes, Cara Mia?" he replied barely looking up from his book.
She rolled her eyes and snatched the book from his hold. "You are the tie breaker."
"Tie breaker?" he asked puzzled. Then he realized what she was talking about. "I, er, better not."
"And why not?" she asked sitting down beside him. She placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed it. Her nails tickled him.
"Tish… I do not want to cause a sibling rivalry between the children by giving my opinion that contradicts two of them."
"Is that really so?"
"Well. I have hard time in picking out myself. You better ask Mama."
"Wonderful reason. It does make sense," she stood up to go but abruptly stopped by the door. "A good suggestion my dear." She turned the knob but Gomez resisted her hand. She turned around with a questioning look on her face. "What now?"
"My book?" he asked, almost begging her.
"Of course," she replied returning his book before she went to look for Granny.