Disclaimer: I don't own FOP, sorry, folks.
Chapter Seven: Open House, Open Heart
Her breath catches in her throat as she slowly creeps along the walls. Fortunately, her father has decided to attend a country club meeting of some sort, leaving only the servants and help for her to evade. And, oh, yeah, the pack of killer dogs that'll tear Timmy limb from limb (they're trained to kill him at the first whiff of his scent), but she needn't worry about that now.
Clutched in her hands are letters, only about ten or twenty, since she's left the rest in her room. On the walk over there, she'll read (taking care not to walk into anything as she does so) and gain a sense of her mother. Just touching them fills her with a certain sense of jubilation and the irrevocable attachment to the past. All things cycle.
Placed on the table right beside the door is another letter, this one postmarked today. For ten years, her mother has sent her letters…she has a lot of reading to catch up on, but she'll start with today's. Personally, she can't believe her mother would continue to write to her, knowing she doesn't reply. Unless her father told her something…
Suddenly, her cell phone rings and she jumps, startled. Fingers tightly crossed, she prays it's her mother, somehow, some way…just because she's ostracized doesn't mean she can't speak to her, right? She doesn't even know what her voice sounds like…
"Trixie?" Timmy says, uncertainly, causing her to curse mildly. Darn, she'd forgotten she'd given him this number. What on earth is she supposed to tell him, though? I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you because I'm waiting for my mother, located who knows where because there's no return address on the envelope, to call? That I want to talk to her so badly, I almost hung up on you when I heard your voice?
"Hi, Timmy," She replies, casting all dejection out of her voice. He is her boyfriend…technically. Any laments over her mother should remain private- they aren't any of his concern. She wants him to be happy, not boggled down with her past.
"What's the matter?" Dang, he's sharp. There's only a trace of sorrow in her voice, but he still picks up on it. She makes a mental note to remain cool and collected when she speaks to him, lest he discover anything more she longs to keep secret. The thought never occurs to her relationships mean being open, but since neither of them practices this, it doesn't faze her.
"Nothing." Slipping a perfectly manicured finger inside the envelope, she gasps as a picture slips out. Beside her mother is another man, and she holds up a wedding ring…her mother has married another. Why this shocks her she can't say, but…
Tersely, he shoots back, "Don't lie to me. You got all defensive when I mentioned your mother."
Stunned, she drops the phone. No, she was wrong- her mother hasn't just gotten married, she's got children. These are her half siblings, who look nothing like her…but they're so happy…Her mother's gotten over her.
"Trixie?" Timmy calls urgently. It takes a few seconds for her to realize she's being paged. Of course, it was unfair to think her mother would never marry and remain fixated on her…but she's making a life without her. She doesn't matter to her…
Shattered, Trixie sinks to the floor, her fingers searching for purchase on the picture. She needs a sign, any, that her mother still cares about her…if this is the most recent letter…maybe it was just to tell her she doesn't care about her anymore. That she's living her life, and Trixie has no part of it.
"No…" Unbidden, a tear slips down her face and she wraps her arms around herself. She has to get out of here…she…she wants to let Timmy in. At least if he knew, he'd be able to do something about it, albeit only comforting her. No wonder her father kept her away from her mother for so long…
"Trixie!" Timmy cries, anxious. Isn't that cute, he cares? He cares…she has to get out of here.
"I'll…I'll talk to you in a few minutes, Timmy. Meet you at the park," Trixie says quietly, cutting the connection before he can reply. Her hands are slick with sweat, her face with tears. The cool, collection breaks down…
Right, she'll meet him there, if her legs will support her, that is. Currently, they don't seem to want to do anything but collapse. Her world has collapsed…
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She has no idea how she walked all the way to the park nor does she remember doing so. Maybe because her head was so boggled down by thoughts of her mother, the letter she has yet to read, and her step family…A family she doesn't want.
"Trixie!" Timmy calls, running over to her. This, of course, takes a few minutes as he's the slowest runner in the class and is easily outstripped by passing butterflies. So much for the typical train pulling away from the station routine- he'd never get anything to get at that speed.
Biting her lip (and, yet again, drawing blood, her lip is covered in scabs), she forces herself to look into his eyes. Now, all she has to do is lie her way out of this, deal with what's more important, the dinner. Her mother doesn't affect him; he doesn't need to hear about it. Too bad she can't delude herself…
"Hey," She says shakily, shivering in spite of the warm breeze passing. C'mon, Tang, focus. This isn't about your mother, your step family; it's about the dinner and keeping him around. You don't want him to get eaten alive by your father's pit bulls, do you?
"Are you okay? You didn't sound so great on the phone and…" His eyes stray to the picture grasped in her right hand. He reaches for it, but she pushes him away. They wrestle for a few minutes, until, ultimately, she relents, showing him.
"Who is this?" Timmy inquires, examining the picture. Of course he doesn't recognize her mother; she doesn't look terribly like her, especially in that photo. She takes after her father in the looks department.
Sighing heavily, she flings herself atop the nearest bench and finally opens the letter. Timmy sits beside her, puzzling out the contents. Between the two of them, they might be able to figure out something.
"I don't understand why would you have a picture of a family that you don't even know?" Or maybe not.
Scanning the letter, her face tightens: so her mother is coming here, to visit. Apparently, her father's recent act of charity was precipitated by a lengthy discussion and not a spur of the moment action. Nevertheless, her mother arriving here, and meeting her for the first time in ten years, fills her with trepidation. Just because she's her mother doesn't mean she has to love her…
Quivering, Trixie points her mother out and shuts her eyes tightly, squeezing past a few tears. "Do you see that woman there, with the shoulder length dirty blonde hair and purple eyes? That's my mother…"
"She doesn't look much like you," Timmy says blatantly, causing her to mentally slap a hand to her forehead. What taste in men she has…she couldn't find better if she went to the freak show.
"My father prefers it that way." Sighing again, she rests her head on his shoulders. His face grows scarlet- she kisses his cheek, turning her head to kiss his lips, but he turns away. What weird behavior…
"Huh?" Trembling, he lightly brushes away her tears. Maybe that's why he didn't kiss her before, he's afraid to. She really has to break him in…the dinner!
"Never mind. We have other things to consider," Trixie says, plastering a humungous smile on. Changing the subject should make her stop crying, right? It'll make her forget her mother's impending visit, her step-family, and the whole mess.
"Yeah, it says in the letter that-"
"The dinner!" She hisses, snatching the letter and picture away. Enough of that, she has more pressing matters. But she'd prefer Timmy were more affectionate…
"Oh, yeah…but that's a done deal, isn't it? Your father hates me…" He hangs his head and, for the first time, she spots a pink and green squirrel observing them. What the heck? Why are they following them?
"I can show you how to behave, so he might approve of you," Trixie replies, kissing him lightly on the lips. Again, he almost passes out. However, he continues to refrain from kissing her back…
For the next hour and a half, she does her best to tutor him. Several times, she sees him space out, irking her to no end. What's he keeping from her? Then again, she's keeping things from him…
"Stop," She finally interjects, placing her hand atop his. "We have to talk."
Breathing deeply, she proceeds to tell him everything…