"The Scavenger Bride"
Chapter 29: He Called Me Son
"I won't be gone long." Herbert frowned sourly. "This is the last thing I need to deal with right now….."
"You're sure you don't want me to go with you?"
"No," he shook his head decidedly, meeting my eyes. "You stay here. No sense in you catching cold." There was a pause. An incredibly short one, but it was there in a flash before he continued. "After all. I would be lost without my assistant." The slight, comforting smile that came over him then made me smile, too.
"What about the car? Why don't you take the car?"
"It's not mine," he shook his head matter-of-factly.
"So? You can use it if you want."
Herbert smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, Imogen. The bus is fine. It won't take me long."
"And you'll come home right after?" I opened the door for him, handing him his umbrella. The sound of the rain on our tin roof was hypnotic; it came down in rivets that pooled in patches around our porch. It was an unusually chilly day for an east coast summer; Herbert pulled his jacket around him and took the umbrella from me as we stepped out and under the protective covering of our porch. Opening it up, he leaned it against his shoulder, ready to brave the rain.
"Of course," he replied quietly, and then he hesitated, studying me for a moment. I could see a storm behind those eyes, a storm I was not only used to seeing but was also becoming fond of. He touched my cheek. "I trust you as I trust no other."
Smiling, I took his hand and kissed it, feeling the blood rush to my face. "And I'll be here when you get back."
He smiled, too, squeezing my hand and finally stepping off our porch towards the bus stop. I took up my coffee again from where I'd left it on the windowsill, warming my hands and my face.
It had been a long time since we'd had a good rain. The gloom seemed to match the mood of that day: the day in which Herbert went to not only meet Dr. Hill regarding our work on the reagent, but also to receive the autopsy results on his father. I stood in the front doorway long after watching Herbert disappear on the bus, sipping my coffee and watching the water dance from our gutters. Rain is so cleansing. No matter what happens - good day, bad day, "can I start again?" day - a good rain washes everything away and lets you start clean. It's like you can think clearly again. I sighed and hoped it would happen for us that day.
Three weeks, practically a month, had gone by since the incident with Herbert's father, and the time in which Dr. Hill had first blackmailed us. My face was at about ninety-eight percent healed, the bruise pretty much gone. It had taken awhile for the autopsy results to get back, and Herbert was going out for not only a regular meeting with Hill, to discuss the reagent, but to also get the results back. Strangely, and most worryingly, it had been quite calm in those weeks. No calls from the cops - none that involved any suspicion being directed our way. We couldn't tell if it was luck, or if they were just biding their time, or what.
I pulled myself out of bed that morning, having struggled to sleep, and cooked us breakfast and made us coffee. I was exhausted anyway, and thinking about what lay ahead for us made me even more tired. I wanted nothing to do with Hill, and neither did Herbert; it hurt me to think he had to go through this meeting alone, but it was at his insistence. It was something we knew we just had to deal with. "It won't be much longer," I had comforted him over our eggs and toast. "And then we can be rid of him for good."
We worked at the reagent practically every night, and had been to my family's home once a week since, in which we stayed there overnight. Even if we ended up pouring over notes all night while there, it still allowed us a change of scenery, if you will. And all those weeks that went by brought us that much closer to a little girl.
The thought of bringing my daughter into a life living under the thumb of an asshole like Hill was what terrified me the most. If I wasn't pregnant, I would be a lot more fearless. For myself, there was no fear. But for this helpless little being in me, well, she had absolutely no way of defending herself. I could feel it like I was watching a blow coming round: something was going to give, and hard. A decision was going to be required of us, and I had begun to prepare for it.
I did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen. Poured myself another cup of coffee. An hour crept by, then two. Eventually, the rain stopped, although the skies remained gloomy. Three hours came and went and I found myself watching TV for the first time in weeks. Old black and white films gave me comfort in that their dilemmas all seemed so simple compared to ours. But today, "Arsenic and Old Lace" was on, and Cary Grant was having to deal with one serial killer brother, another brother who was convinced he was Teddy Roosevelt, and two aunts who, out of "charity," fatally poisoned passing men and buried them in their basement. The darkness of it struck a little close to home, but I loved that movie. The final credits had faded out not ten minutes before there was a dark flash at the windows. I glanced up in time to see Herbert unlocking the front door. Shutting off the television, I got up to greet him.
"Well?" I smiled hopefully as he shook off his coat. He seemed a little too calm, and I wasn't sure if I should be worried or relieved.
"Well," Herbert sighed, hanging up his coat on the post by the door. He turned and gave me a small smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Under a microscope, my father's blood looked even better than Tina's. I told him about the bodies we'd been working on. He's going to tell the police my father had a rare strain of rabies, and that they shouldn't be worried. He also sent me home with this," he took a hand out of his pocket to reveal two small vials, containing maybe twenty cc's each of a dark, rusty-colored liquid. "It's my father's blood. He says he's storing the rest for us and that he'll dispose of my father's body for us." He tossed me one of the vials. "and I want you to hold on to one for us."
I caught it, studying it over as my smile fleshed out into a grin. "That- that's good, right? I mean….." Herbert came over to me. "I really thought he was gonna flip out or something, I mean really flip out. You know how he is, he just- oh, gosh." I sighed. I still felt so apprehensive. "Herbert…."
"Don't worry." My partner put his hands on my hips. "I think this is going to end a lot sooner than we initially thought."
"That's what I'm worried about," I hugged him to me. "I have this horrible feeling that something is going to go wrong. I mean, how many late-nights have we pulled with the TV on in the background? All those horror flicks where they think they're out of the woods and suddenly, bam, something surprises them and- I dunno."
Herbert pulled me back. "Oh, no, young lady. None of that. We're gonna be fine."
"You're always so sure of these things, huh?"
He shrugged. "It's true."
"Alright, alright," I sighed, smiling. "You win. For now."
My partner's face fleshed out into one of those devilish little grins again. "What do you mean, 'for now?'"
"Wha-" I laughed. "Never you mind, West!"
"Ah!" His eyebrows raised. "Back to last names, are we, Phillips?"
"Touche!" I laughed. "So, what's the plan, huh?! Another body, another trial, what?"
Herbert sighed, thinking. "Your family's got that grill, right?"
"Uh-" I gaped at him. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think they'd mind us coming up and me using it?"
"Ah-what- I mean, I-" I shook my head to clear it. "Herbert, are you- are you wanting to cook the bodies now?"
"God, no," Herbert gaped, but then suddenly he had a lightbulb moment. "Why, do you think it would help the work?"
"Okay, that's disgusting."
Herbert grinned. "Did you like my joke?"
"Oh, my God!" I burst out laughing. "You? Telling jokes? Where did you learn that?"
"Pretty good, eh?" Herbert shrugged. "Steve was telling me a few."
"Not bad," I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not bad at all."
"So whaddaya say? What about a getaway to Innsmouth?" He slid his arms around me.
"Really?"
"Sure, why not? I'll pack the microscope and some slides and we'll pour over some formulas again. We have that blood and we can tweak it tonight and then leave tomorrow."
"But I-"
"They did invite us, did they not?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"But what?" I could see the sparkle in his eye, the enjoyment at teasing me, and it made me laugh at last.
"Oh, shit, Herbert," I shrugged in defeat, laughing. "But nothing. Fine. To Innsmouth it is, then."
xxxxxxxxxx
We worked like dogs the rest of the night, only stopping to eat dinner. Building formulas, breaking them down, re-working them, mixing them, labeling everything. I couldn't remember the last time we'd worked so hard. By the time either of us stopped to think about it, it was already three in the morning, and we were about done anyway; I left it up to Herbert, who felt confident in what we'd accomplished that evening. We created a handful of new bottles utilizing Quentin's blood, and Herbert left me a few of those, as well. We went to bed exhausted, yet content.
The next day we threw our things together, jumped into the car, and drove the near-hour it took us to get to my family's home back in Innsmouth. Despite the air of doom and gloom that still hung about us, I actually found myself smiling most of the trip; I was happy. The confidence I held in Herbert was matched by the trust I also had for him. He knew how to take care of us.
When we arrived at my family's home, Herbert was the one to insist upon carrying the bags. My cousin-in-law came out to greet us.
"Steve," Herbert smiled. "Good to see you." My partner shook Steve's outstretched hand.
"Doctor West, how's it going? All's well on the Miskatonic front, I suppose?"
"Hmm, 'tis to be expected."
"That bad, eh?"
The two of them laughed, and I was left gaping at them. "Since when did you two become best friends?"
"Ah, c'mon," Steve waved me away, teasingly. "You two hungry?"
"I know I am," I nodded.
"Good, 'cos you promised you'd grill, right, Herbert?"
"Indeed, I did, Steve."
"Herbert, what I want to know, is: when in God's name did you find the time to learn how to grill?"
"Wha-" Herbert gaped at me. "Really, Imogen, I'm surprised! What else do you think I've been doing hanging around the grill with Steve, every time we come here?"
"Talking shop, of course!"
"Ah, well, there's where you're wrong! It's not all shop, you know." Herbert grinned at me.
I felt like I was hallucinating. "I can't believe you," I shook my head, still laughing.
It was a gorgeous night out. Everyone was home, and everything was perfect. When Herbert was done at the grill, we all sat down to eat out back. Everything was perfect, delicious! "Herbert, this is amazing!" Shelley gaped at my partner, who smiled slightly.
"Thank you, Shelley."
We even had seconds, and chatted and laughed as relaxed as ever. Everything was winding down and we were almost ready to clear our plates when my aunt stopped us. "Wait, everyone. Hang on a minute." She smiled at me and at Herbert. "I just- I don't think I've ever said this before. And it's sad, because I should have said it eons ago. Herbert," she glanced over at my partner. "I'm not gonna lie to you, son. You definitely are one of the strangest men I've met. But I knew from the moment I met you that you would never steer my girl wrong," she pointed at me. "I wanted to thank you, on behalf of myself and my husband, for taking such good care of our niece. And we are proud to have you as a part of this family."
"That's right, Herbert," Harry continued, clapping him on the back. There were sounds of agreement and approval from my cousin and her husband. "We're real grateful, son."
Herbert's face was frozen in a look of shock and awe as he took everything in. "Son…." he murmured, so soft, I think I may have been the only one to hear it. He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Jane. Harry. I cannot tell you….." Herbert paused for a shaky breath. "I cannot tell you what it means to me. Thank you."
Inside my chest my heart damn near exploded, and I quickly wiped away a tear that tried to escape. We continued eating and chatting merrily, but within about five minutes, in which Herbert was silent, he excused himself briefly from the table. Everyone was starting to clear anyway, and so I waited a few moments before getting up to follow him. I knew something was up.
The house was quiet; I passed through the kitchen, in through the living room, around the staircase and into the sitting room, where I could have sworn I heard a quiet little sound, like a sniffle. The rest of the house was illuminated, but the sitting room was dark, yet I could still see Herbet's silhouette against the window as he stood, staring out. I quietly made my way to him, gently sliding my arm through his. He didn't move, just stared out that window, and I looked up to see a tear slide down his face.
"He called me 'son,'" Herbert whispered. I silently slid my arms around his waist, going up on my tip-toes slightly to kiss his cheek. He hugged me back tightly. We had a few minutes to ourselves before I heard my name from the kitchen. I glanced up at my partner. "You go on," he gave a quick nod off, sniffling slightly and managing a smile.
"You sure?" When Herbert nodded silently, I went on. "Alright. You take your time, okay?" He nodded again with a smile. Reaching up, I gave him one more quick kiss and was off to help my uncle load the dish washer.
I was loading the last plate when my aunt flipped on her record player, and I grinned as the voice of Midge Williams filled the room. "Where in the world can my lover be….?"
"May I have this dance?" Harry held out his hand for my aunt, and she curtsied, taking him up. Shelley was laughing as she wiped down the kitchen table from the mess we'd made cooking. And I was too busy laughing, also, to notice Herbert, coming in from the living room. He coughed slightly and I turned to find him looking in on us with the tiniest little smile in the corner of his mouth. He took a few tentative steps for me, sheepishly holding out his hand with a look of, "Well?" on his face.
"Miss Phillips?" He asked quietly. He'd never called me "miss" before, and it made me blush.
"Mister West," I curtsied slightly, taking up his hand. He pulled me to him gently, sliding an arm around the small of my back and taking up my other hand in his. He spun me around, and I began blushing, so I buried my face in his neck that he wouldn't see me (although, in hindsight, I was sure that was a dead giveaway). He was quiet, but the look on his face was by far the warmest I'd ever seen him exhibit for as long as I'd known him.
