Episode 7 – Imaginary Friend
CC had just briefly left Maxwell's office to fetch them both another cup of tea; it was not her intention to be sidetracked, but the music coming from the living room drew her close in spite of herself. She hovered by the sliding doors, trying not to be seen, watching Niles, Nanny Fine and the children absorbed in a cartoon. The nanny had her arm around the youngest girl and her frizzy head leaning on Niles' shoulder. Even the boy and the teenager weren't bickering for once, but amicably sharing a bowl of popcorn. They looked ridiculously happy, she thought. Like something out of a postcard.
"Please stop hovering, Miss Babcock," said Niles, without turning around. "Either join us or go away. Bambi is a serious matter in this house."
CC rolled her eyes, remembering the other woman's obnoxious question the other day: "When Bambi's mother died, did you find that a sad moment? … At all?" She'd come up with an even more obnoxious answer in defense – "I'm sure she's mounted on a wall in a nice home" – but the truth was, she'd never actually seen the thing, unless you counted the time when she was two years old. She knew via popcultural osmosis that Bambi was a Disney movie about a fawn whose mother is shot by a hunter, but not much else.
"I don't watch cartoons, Niles," she declared haughtily, pretending not to see the lovely cel animation on the screen: the frozen river covered in snow, the elegant doe and her little spotted fawn. "I'm a grown woman, after all."
"Really?" came Niles' laconic reply. "I never noticed."
The doe onscreen pricked up one ear. Gracie, who knowing her had watched this scene a dozen times, hid her face in Nanny Fine's curls. The Jewish woman's black eyes met CC's in a silent plea to leave. Just for that, CC thought obstinately, I'm not moving an inch. What do they expect me to do, bite the little one's head off?
A gunshot rang out. The deer ran, leaping across the ice and snow in graceful, terrified arcs. Water fountained up around them as it began to snow. CC was nine again, hurrying behind the fur-coated figure of her mother. Watching the deer's crimson bloodstains sink into the snow, and her mother's blood-red lips curve into a triumphant smile.
"There's so much blood, Mama. I didn't know … I thought you said this was going to be fun."
"All Babcocks are hunters, sweetheart. You'll learn to like it, I promise."
And she had learned. She was an excellent huntress. So why did she suddenly feel weak in the knees? She dropped onto the sofa and grabbed hold of the nearest warm and reassuring thing she could find.
"Move, you furry idiots," she whispered through gritted teeth. "Just over that hill and – "
The second shot interrupted her.
Being a Disney death, of course it took place offscreen, leaving her to imagine all the so familiar details: the doe's slim legs collapsing under her, the bullet hole, the red drops glistening in the snow, the hunter approaching to gut the cadavre. The camera focused on Bambi, peering out from behind a tree as heavy snow fell.
"Mother?" he called.
The blurred silhouette of a stag appeared through the falling snow, gazing down at Bambi with sorrowful compassion.
"Your mother," he said, "Can't be with you anymore."
"Your father won't be with you tonight, Chastity. We're getting a divorce."
CC looked away, swallowing a most inconvenient lump in her throat. To her absolute horror, her line of sight landed on a pair of hands clasped together on the beige sofa cushion: one belonging to her, the other to Niles. They glanced up at each other and simultaneously let go.
"Dear God, woman," Niles grumbled, shaking his hand as if to dislodge something slimy, "Are you trying to cut off my circulation?"
"You're covered in popcorn grease, disgusting!" she shot back, fishing a linen handkerchief out of her suit pocket.
"Well, at least I know what to cook next time you stay for dinner," he whispered evilly. "Venison?"
"Delicious," she purred, pasting on an extra-wide smile. If he thinks one stupid cartoon will make me sentimental …
A shrill, imperious voice interrupted them both. "Shush, both of ya! The 'twitterpated' scenes are comin' up. Though why even woodland creatures get more action than I do, I'll never understand … "
Once Nanny Fine began whining about her love life (as if she hadn't already sank her painted claws into Maxwell!), CC had learned it was time to make herself scarce. Not only was her litany annoying, but it never failed to inspire Niles to greater heights of cattiness about CC's own romantic failures. She stood up, tugged her jacket into shape, and marched away in the direction of Maxwell's office – but not without a final glance at the back of Niles' blond head and the lush green forest onscreen.
