Chapter 31: Comfort Food
Ever the hustler, Jimmy Neptune had booked a rinky-dink boat tour that the Darling Mermaid Darlings would not have to pay for, as long as enough fans bought tickets to see them. At that very moment, they would be sailing through the city, indulging in wine and cheese while they talked about their comeback. If Charles Charles had intended to join them he would be far too late…but not too late to meet and greet them on the dock…
"Are there gonna be cameras?" Eugene asked as they hurried along the river bank.
Chuck wrinkled her nose at the odd question. "I mean it is a photo op..."
"Well, do me a favor and try not to get caught on one this time? Your picture was in the paper."
The Alive Again Adventurer almost tripped over her own feet as she turned to him, wide-eyed.
"But I think it's fine; it was in like, the Lifestyle section of a women's weekly. Somebody took a picture of your aunts when they were coming out of that press conference; you were in the background."
Chuck recalled, with a start, the moment the wind whipped off her 'Carmen Sandiego' hat – just as a camera flashed...
"You know, Ned talked about you all the time when we were kids but I never knew what you looked like. Until you died and your face was all over the news for a day."
"…so when I introduced myself as…myself you knew?"
He nodded. "Once I stopped freaking out about the whole walking dead thing I realized you might need help. Both of you." And he inclined his head towards the masked caped figure standing at the edge of the water, waiting.
For the second time that night Chuck took off running. "Dad!"
Charles Charles whipped round and she could see rather than hear him heave a sigh. He held his hand out like a crossing guard and she stopped a few feet short.
"Dad, you can't. I'm so sorry that idiot upset you, but that's no reason to rush into an emotional decision."
"They don't even have to know it's me," he said firmly. "I'll tell them I'm a fan."
"You really think they won't recognize your voice? Even after all these years you know they will. You-"
"Chuck, enough! I'm a grown man and I will make my own decisions about how to handle my family."
With that he lowered his hand, and turned to look out over the glittering river once more. She could tell by his body language that he intended to ignore her. It made her feel smaller than she had in a long time…
"Sir?" Chuck jumped a little as Eugene popped up behind her. "I don't know you…but I know how much you must miss your whole family. Quite frankly, I don't think it's right that you've been kept from them."
He brushed past her, pretending not to notice her glare…
"So if you really need to see them right this minute then I think you should." Chuck gawked, aghast. "I mean, announcing your alive again-ness in front of a bunch of witnesses could attract the wrong attention. And seeing them for the first time in years when you're dressed…like that won't exactly make the best impression. But hey, life is short, right?"
Chuck felt the outrage unwind from around her chest. It seemed Eugene was trying, fairly obviously, to use reverse psychology. Charles Charles narrowed his eyes, coming to the same conclusion. He said nothing for a moment; then: "Nice try, kid. Mind telling me who the hell you are?
Eugene gave a halfhearted, lopsided smile. "Only if we can take this conversation back to the hotel…"
XXX
Three hours, 12 minutes and 48 seconds after leaving the Pie Maker behind, Olive forced herself to focus on the road ahead. She had taken over as designated driver (leaving Emerson to rest in the passenger seat) since she knew the way home so well she could probably drive blindfolded…
The Snooks were unlikely to roll out the red carpet for them when they arrived. Her parents had enough space to accommodate a small village, but they were very particular about guests, only ever granting access to those whose wealth equaled or exceeded their own. Nevertheless, she was their daughter, and she could at least count on them to make room for her friends – however begrudgingly. Olive would, in turn, be on her best behavior, for as long as it took the danger to clear…
That danger had a name, of course, and a face, but there was no use dwelling on it. That would only lead her to dwell on Maurice and Ralston...and on Ned; on everything left unsaid; on the spark of an accidental kiss. It seemed every time they kissed it was under the worst possible circumstances…
Olive turned the radio on, keeping the volume low but hoping it would drown out her thoughts. Whoever rented the car before had tuned into a country music station, and she bobbed her head in appreciation as the peppy yet melancholy notes of 'Jolene' faded out.
"Nooooo," Olive moaned, disappointed she missed her favorite Dolly Parton song.
"…and comin' up next in our Dolly-thon, we have a little somethin' for the folks nursin' a broken heart tonight…"
Her ears pricked up, and then her heart sank, at the sound of that gentle warble…
"If I should stay…well I would only be in your way…and so I'll go, and yet I know…I'll think of you each step of the way…"
Olive made it as far as "bitter-sweet memories; that's all I'm taking with me" before she had to change stations. However familiar she was with this road, it seemed like a bad idea to cry and drive in the middle of the night…
XXX
Emerson did not realize how exhausted he must have been until he handed the wheel over to Olive. He only planned to power nap for an hour, but when his eyes finally cracked open to check the time, he realized she had been driving almost as long as he had.
"Shoulda woke me up," he grumbled.
"Aw, but you looked so cute!"
He scoffed and slumped further down into his coat. After a while Olive inclined her head towards a gas station, glowing in the dark.
"Wanna grab some crappy coffee for the last stretch of this little road trip? And snacks! My parents never have any good snacks…"
That sounded good to him (although the almost aggressive levels of excitement in her voice did not). While Olive dashed into the store – spooky bunny head flopping around behind her – Emerson let the pets out to eat their pre-packed snacks and use the bathroom (or at least the grassy knoll off the side of the road). He stretched, feeling and hearing his bones creak in the wintery air…
The PI was quite put off by the prospect of staying with Mr. and Mrs. Snook. He had a feeling they were not the sort of people who would welcome someone like him with open arms. But based on what Olive told him about the size of her childhood home, they would be easy enough to avoid…
"No tricks, all treats!" Olive announced, grinning maniacally. She was carrying three paper bags, strained with the weight of cookies and chips, soda and water. He relieved her of the burden, partly out of chivalry, mostly so he could inspect the goods. All seemed well, until...
"Licorice?" he uttered with disgust. "Who eats this stuff?"
"Ned," Olive half-laughed, but he glimpsed her smile, flickering like a dying lightbulb. "He told me how when he was in boarding school it was the one thing the others boys would never try to take from him."
Emerson grimaced. "That is grim…"
"I thought so. But would you believe he developed a taste for it? Now he eats it because he actually likes it sometimes, and he doesn't have to feel bad for not sharing."
Emerson kept quiet for a minute, contemplating Olive as she drove. She cast a couple of quizzical glances at the PI, prompting him to speak up at last… "You really love him, huh."
"So do you," she accused.
Emerson rolled his eyes, but it was hardly worth the energy to deny it… "Different kinda love," he said instead.
He began to dig into one of the bags, crinkling sounds filling the silence and causing Digby to sniff around the front seat.
"I can't talk about it," Olive blurted out, clearly contradicting herself. "Even saying the words out loud…it feels like betrayal."
"Forget I said anything," he insisted, chomping on chips.
She nodded, holding her tongue for all of ten seconds before: "Not that even matters. Feelings don't matter, right? What you do with them does. And I've dealt with mine. He doesn't want me and that's fine."
Emerson shook his head, sighed. "I wouldn't be so sure."
"…huh?!"
"You heard me, woman, eyes on the road."
Olive obeyed the order, making a face like she had stepped on a Lego he dropped deliberately.
"I can't talk about this."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Emerson reached out to turn on the radio. "Want a chip?"
"I'm gonna need a whole bag…"
A/N: In my head Eugene looks like the lovechild of Rahul Kohli and Dev Patel and it makes my heart smile lol…
This was a bit of a filler chapter, but more action to come! Thanks for reading x