I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.
And that's just fine.
And Baby Makes Four
Best Laid Plans
"Shit."
The morning of was tense.
"Annabel."
To say the least.
"Sorry."
Annabel seemed to be on the verge of a complete breakdown.
Skirting her breakfast.
Forgetting her lunch and having to come back for it.
And chewing her nails . . .
Maybe she'll stop when she reaches blood.
. . . absolutely to shreds.
Her easygoing father even noticed.
And wisely waited until his jittery daughter was gone to address his lovely wives.
"Do you think this is really the best idea, Dot?"
"She has to face this, Jimmy."
"Her friend might even be okay with it all, darling. Don't you think?"
"After all, we're a good family."
"We're a great family! Okay. I gotta go."
"We love you."
"Love you two."
They had been almost beginning to think she wouldn't show up.
And they weren't quite prepared yet to walk over to Lucy's house and forcibly drag their daughter and her friend over to a homecooked meal of pork chops and sides.
But just they were beginning to fret . . .
She's hopped a train to Chattanooga, Sister.
You don't even know where Chattanooga is, Bette.
. . . Annabel, Lucy, and Annabel's friend from Tallahassee . . .
"Just don't say anything about school shootings, okay?"
. . . showed up.
Alright, showtime.
But I forgot my tassels, Dot.
Hush, Bette.
I'm sorry, I'm just nervous.
Me too.
". . . Julie. Julie, these are my moms."
The mousy, wide-eyed slip of a teenage girl could not contain her shock and awe at the startling visage of Bette and Dot Tattler Darling Walker.
That smiling, motherly visage.
"Hello, Julie," Dot greeted her.
With the two heads.
"We're so glad to finally meet you," Bette welcomed.
The girl nodded vaguely.
"H-h-hi."
She had already been introduced to the hook-handed man of the house.
"Hey, I'm Jimmy! Good to meet you."
Who had, in spite of his former Cabinet of Curiosities outgoing persona, not winked at the fifteen-year-old.
And she had generally . . .
"Hi. I'm Julie."
. . . managed his double hooks relatively well.
In the face of a two headed woman however . . .
"Um . . ."
. . . she seemed to be floundering more than a little.
Bette gestured as Dot spoke.
"Well, we're about to sit down to eat. Would you like to wash up first?"
Annabel looked mortified.
"We haven't been touching anything but study books, Moms. We're not dirty."
Tearing her eyes away from the Dot/Bette Talking Head Spectacle, Julie glanced furtively at Annabel.
"No, um, it's okay. I'll go wash up."
Well, she seems nice.
She seems scared.
Well, that's to be expected. We'll just give her time and maybe she'll get better.
Annabel, shamed beyond all reason, washed her hands at the kitchen sink, glaring furiously at the stream of water that flowed from the tap.
And then, sweet tea and congeniality abounding, they sat down to eat.
"Would you care for some deviled eggs, Julie?"
"Yes, please. Thanks."
"Boy, these green beans are good, Dot."
"Why, thank you, Jimmy."
"Oh, how was CPR class, Lucy?"
"Very informative. I was the only woman in the class, but I learned a lot."
"Now if we can just get someone to choke, you could try it out."
"Dad!"
"Well, that's technically the Heimlich Maneuver, not CPR."
"Heimlich? What's that? Some kinda German thing? We knew a mean, old German broad once, didn't we, Bette? Tell 'em, Dot, she woulda just let you d-"
"Dad!"
I don't think she ate a thing, Sister.
No, neither of them did.
Come to think of it, neither did we.
Jimmy did alright.
Oh, he's a man. They can eat through any situation.
Bully for him.
Annabel hardly spoke to them for the rest of the night.
Or the next morning.
Something they had unfortunately already learned to deal with in regards to her.
And when she came home from school that afternoon, she was alone.
And silent.
In fact, she was so quiet, she almost got past them unnoticed.
Did you hear something, Sister?
"Annabel, is that you? Are you home?"
"No."
Oh, her sarcasm is back. Lovely.
And they went to go check on her.
"Annabel?"
Their daughter was at her desk, bent low over her already open homework.
"Are you okay?"
She didn't respond.
"Annabel? Is something wrong? Did something happen at school?"
Nothing.
"Annabel? Is your friend okay? Julie?"
"We liked her, she was very nice-"
The scratching of Annabel's pencil on paper stopped suddenly.
And she spoke, colorless and curt. Without even bothering to lift her head.
"She's not my friend anymore."
Her mothers' shared stomach dropped.
"What?"
Annabel slammed her pencil down and turned to face her mothers.
"I said, she's not my friend anymore! She wouldn't talk to me today! She wouldn't even look at me! She asked the teacher if she could have a different chemistry partner, she hates me, alright! And it's all because of you!"
Bette and Dot flinched.
Annabel continued, not exactly in a rage, but teetering on the edge of strong emotional explosion nonetheless.
"If you hadn't made me invite her over, she would still be my friend! But now she thinks I'm a freak and she hates me, okay? And it's all your fault!"
Her lower lip started trembling then and her pretty face pinched.
"Oh, Annabel, we're so sorry . . ."
They moved toward her then, motherly hands reaching out to console, soothe, love.
And Annabel jerked, turning her head away from them.
A forbidding, cold stone wall of resentment and loathing in place of where their happy, loving daughter used to be.
"I'm fine, okay? I'm fine. It doesn't matter. I just . . ."
Her voice faded out for a second then came back brittle and harsh and final.
"I have homework to do."
And that was that.
She wouldn't talk to her mothers.
She wouldn't talk to her father.
She wouldn't even talk to Lucy anymore.
They tried.
"Can't you talk to Julie, Annabel?"
"No. Every time she sees me coming, she heads in the other direction."
They really did.
"Did you like her, Annabel? Like as a . . . romantic partner?"
"What? No! I just- I just wanted a friend! Is that too much to ask?!"
With all their hearts, they tried.
"Oh come on, why would you want to be friends with a stuck up little bitch like that anyway? I mean, she's not really a friend if she doesn't like you for who you are."
"It's not her fault, Daddy. She just doesn't want to be friends with a bunch of freaks."
Jimmy flinched at the word, much as his wives had done.
Annabel didn't seem to notice.
"It's gross anyway."
Jimmy felt disquiet trickle through him.
Hang on just a damn minute here-
"Gross? Who's gross?"
Annabel ducked her head, refusing to look at him.
"We're gross?"
Jimmy pressed. He couldn't help it.
He had worked so hard to accept, to be okay.
To love his wives and his daughter.
"Annabel, do you think that we're gross?"
She clenched her jaw so hard it stood out in painful relief against her skin.
"How can you-"
Then stopped.
Like a forty metric ton boulder being dropped on an ant.
And Jimmy waited.
And waited.
And couldn't wait anymore.
"Annabel, what?"
But his daughter refused to say more.
"Annabel . . ."
"I don't know what to say to her anymore, Jimmy."
"She's our daughter but she's like a stranger to us."
"I swear when she looks at us it's like she hates us."
"What are we going to do?"
Kathy had reassured them that all teenagers went through a 'grumpy' phase.
Or two.
Or three.
Or four.
"But they'll be fine in the end," she comforted one early afternoon over coffee and crumb cake. "Annabel's a wonderful girl with a strong, loving family. You'll get her through this. And she'll get better and be better for it."
"I hope you're right, Kathy."
"Because right now, it feels like hell."
Kathy had shrugged, shaking her head and raising her coffee cup in slightly sardonic salute.
"Of course it feels like hell. It's parenting. But it will eventually get better."
They had relayed this interaction to Jimmy, who had huffed and nodded his head morosely in agreement.
But their hearts were still heavy with worry and uncertainty.
So yeah, the Heimlich Maneuver came to interest in the early '70s, right after CPR.
And as for the rest, well, you're not really surprised, are you? Let me know!
Thanks to brigid1318, autumnrose2010, and midnightrebellion86 for reviewing! Steadfast ones, you. :)
