She came back the next day as promised. Cordelia found Misty's utter and complete composure astounding. She seemed calm as ever, which soothed some of the nerves, Cordelia had been unwillingly working up over the night. She had gone straight for bed without talking to Hank, who was up working late anyway and laid awake with too many thought to bear without breaking into tears.
Misty's behavior was an extension of the feeling Cordelia had had kissing her: That their actions was the most natural thing in the world. If she was troubled by it, she hid it well.
Cordelia, however, didn't feel quite so untouched. And she couldn't help being hyperaware of every touch now. Misty, tactile as she always was, didn't quite keep her hands to herself, but the amount of touches, that Cordelia found to be not quite innocent, had lessened. She would sometimes see Misty change her mind in the middle of a motion and pull her hand back, and there was something about this that made their time together feel less natural, restrained somehow. The lightness of the atmosphere felt forced. It was only there like a hint of a taste in the air, because Misty was excellent at covering up any rejected feelings she might have and her joyous mood concealed the awkwardness a long way. Still, little imprints remained.
"Did you ask 'bout that field trip?" Misty asked a couple of days later. She sounded more eager now at the thought of having a bunch of kids invade her privacy, than she had before the incident. This was how Cordelia in her own mind referred to the happenings in moments, where she found it too hard to wrap her head around the fact that she had kissed her best friend and more importantly, that she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"I did", Cordelia said with a nod. "Well, I mentioned the idea to the board and talked to a few parents, but it will take a while before they come to a conclusion. And the opinions of the parents were very divided. Some thought it was a brilliant and one of the mothers reminded me that alligators do in fact reside not too far from here – I couldn't quite argue with that, but I also promised that measures would be taken and the area carefully checked before I would let her child run free. And I said that I'd rather be eaten by one myself than expose her child to danger."
"They're not that bad, if you don't disturb 'em."
"Well they don't know that. And I doubt you could convince a single one. But that's the status."
Cordelia had realized that talking chased away her hyperawareness to an extent, so she intended to elaborate on every possible subject, just to keep the conversation going. The silences that got under her skin. Silences they used to enjoy together while lying on the bed or a blanket outside, just looking at the sky or each other – she remembered they would sometimes lie there entwining their fingers and Cordelia was honestly surprised this hyperawareness hadn't surfaced earlier. The silences were hard because in the vacuum of wordlessness, the drives from deep within her mind would overtake her conscious thoughts and betray her will to keep composed. She would blush, thinking about that kiss, really thinking about it; going over the details of the way Misty had tasted and the contrast of her soft lips to her rough, nature-molded hands. She would blush and Misty would see. Misty didn't say a word to it, but knowing she saw it was enough.
"I hope some'll be allowed. I'd love to see you 'round kids. I can already picture it." She said this in a soft voice that did strange things to Cordelia's heart rate and she took it as a cue to leave.
"I'll let you know as soon as I know."
"You'll let me know 'bout the other thing too, right?"
Cordelia had blissfully forgotten that her appointment was tomorrow. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find the strength to accept that the moment of truth were closing in. Then she answered, with a smile: "Of course I will."
When Cordelia walked home alone from the edge to her house, her thoughts started circling around her late high school years, a time with similar struggles to this. She spent many nights out at that time, because home was too depressing a place. She didn't drink much, because watching her mother stumble around the house had put her off alcohol, but she was drawn to the drunken, dulling haze of carelessness that habited the bars in town. She wasn't picky with bars, but she didn't like to frequent either, so to not get a specific rumor. She had enough of those stuck to her name already.
One night she had dared a glass of wine at a bar she hadn't visited before and she hadn't paid much attention to the crowd, before a certain someone interrupted her solitude.
A young girl about her age appeared beside her with a drink in hand and leaned into her.
"Hello beautiful. Please don't tell me you're straight." It could have been the cheesiest or skeeviest thing, she had ever heard, but the look in the girl's eyes made it endearing somehow. There was a flattering cockiness to her appearance, which made it okay.
"I-I'm not sure", Cordelia had stammered, because just then a transient image of wild blonde curls intruded her mind, before she blinked it away. This girl, on the other hand, had short black hair and a dashing smile. Her name was Wendy and she ended up going home with Cordelia that night. Cordelia admired her bravery, being out like that in a world like this. She never fully came to terms with what they were; she didn't have the time, as Fiona found a way to put an end to it, as soon as she found out.
"It's not the girl I mind, it's your lack of focus. Think of the potential that runs in your blood. I plan to see you follow my steps. You must strive for greatness and this girl is not it, you hear me?"
Fiona had her way, because Wendy ended it a couple of months later, leaving Cordelia confused as ever about everything.
She was now perhaps less confused but in despair more so. She knew the name of her emotions, but she was obligated not to give in to them. And she could admit, at least to herself, that she was also afraid to take them on. What frightened her most was how alive she had felt in that moment, because now she was afraid her body would go back to sleep.
Hank seemed to sense her internal struggle upon first look. He was tactful enough to wait until she had a chance to sit down before saying: "Something's bothering you."
A wave of fear – what if he knew? – flooded her gut, but she forced herself to be rational. There was no reason for him to suspect a thing. There was no reason for him to even think along the lines. She had presented Misty as her childhood friend, which was nothing but the truth. She had never spoken of these latent thoughts that had ultimately caused her to kiss her. Or kiss back. She wasn't even sure who started it. It just happened.
"Honey?"
Cordelia realized she hadn't spoken yet and shook her head slightly, as if to wipe the betraying thoughts away. "It's only the test results tomorrow. I'm just so nervous."
Hank nodded. He didn't question this and honestly she was nervous. None of what she had said was lies. Besides, was it even cheating? It was a small touch, as natural as so many others and it lasted for only seconds. Did it really count?
She realized Hank had said something and had to ask him to repeat.
"It's okay, babe, just try to calm down. I said that it doesn't matter to me what you hear tomorrow."
"Well it matters to me!"
"I know, I know. I'm not saying I don't care, I'm just saying I'll love you no matter what state your uterus is in. That's all I'm saying."
His words made her smile and she placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you."
He turned his head and kissed her palm. "Maybe you should get some sleep? If it is bad news, it's easier to take if you're not already drained from sleep deprivation."
Cordelia nodded and didn't argue. She hadn't realized he had noticed her difficulty with falling asleep lately. Of course he must be somewhat attuned to it by now. It wasn't the first time a matter kept her up at night. She slept alone often too, when it was bad. Hank liked to give her space. Or maybe he was afraid to touch her. She had wondered this often. Whenever she fell into one of those black holes, Hank shied away from her, just as he did her scars. It was as if he was afraid to be near her, as if her poisoned mind was somehow contagious. She never voiced this, but the frustration at this distance was one of the many things that spawned their fights.
Hank came in late that night, hours after Cordelia had gone to bed. She was still awake, but pretended not to be. She lay on her side, facing away from him and only the movements of the mattress and his sleepy grunts let her know, he was settling down beside her.
She went alone to the doctor. She wanted it that way, because she couldn't bear the look on anyone's face, when she heard it. Yet she was in some absurd way less nervous right before she went in. In truth, she was already defeated. Too many signs were there to read for her to truly believe the test results would be in her favor.
When she was called into the office, the doctor already sat behind his desk, ready for her. In that moment she felt a hostility towards him. He could sit there in his chair, which felt more like a throne in this moment, holding her future in his hands and still feel completely detached from the emotions twirling inside her. He wasn't affected by her misery and he could let it go as soon as she was out of his door again, the same way he could with every other woman, who took their place in the chair on this side of his desk.
He stood up upon her entry and stretched out a hand for her.
"Mrs. Foxx, welcome."
"Just call me Cordelia, please."
"Cordelia", he nodded.
They sat and now she could feel her heart pounding. It felt too violent for her chest; surely, she must choke on the blood that shot into her throat any minute now.
The doctor gathered the papers and cast another glance at them before looking up at her. His eyes said everything, but his mouth ruthlessly kept on talking anyway.
"I'm afraid it's bad news, Cordelia." She closed her eyes for a moment as the final verdict sunk in. She wished she could make everything disappear as easily as the light in this room. He kept on explaining the extent of the matter. She only heard words and fractions like "Abnormal environment in the cervix", "treatment difficulty" and "Antidepressants".
"… So you see treatment does have certain obstacles given your situation, but there may be a few options we can try."
"Will it matter?" Cordelia asked in a voice so loaded with defeat her doctor shot her a worried look. "My aunt was infertile too and she never succeeded with any treatment."
"According to what you've told me on prior consultations, your aunt tried different treatments from what I'm suggesting. It's your choice of course, but I ask of you that you take these papers with you. Look them over and if you decide to give the treatment a try, give me a call and we'll figure something out." He leaned in over the table and added, in a softer voice. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be to hear, but just know that I haven't given up on you yet. So you don't have to either. Here." He handed her a tissue and only now did Cordelia realize the tears running down her cheeks.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that she had given up a long time ago.
O0O
Misty had barely gotten out of her bath, when there was a knock on her door. She knew it had to be Cordelia, as no one else knew she lived here. She had told her countless of times that she didn't have to knock, but Cordelia insisted and today Misty was glad she did. Finding her naked would probably not ease the tension between them.
She threw on a dress and went for the door. There was a weakness to the knock, Misty noticed, and she prepared herself for the worst before she opened the door. Outside stood Cordelia, wearing a mask of the deepest misery Misty had yet witnessed. Cordelia's eyes were red and her milky skin flushed from crying. Her hair fell into her face and stuck to her cheeks a few places. She looked into Misty's eyes with so much sadness it made her insides twist in pain.
She didn't need any explanation. She only took Cordelia's hand and led her inside without a word. She guided Cordelia to the bed, where she made her sit and took a seat beside her. With a careful touch, she freed Cordelia's hair from her sticky cheeks and brushed it behind her ears. Only then did Cordelia seem to truly acknowledge Misty's presence and her eyes filled with tears again. She put her head down on Misty's shoulder and curled up to her as Misty drew her arms around her. Her body trembled in Misty's embrace.
"I'm defective, Misty." She spoke with a shaking voice. It still rang with a hint of shock. "I knew he would say it, but it wasn't until I actually heard it, I…"
"Hush now, darlin', you're not defective", Misty soothed, speaking into her hair. Cordelia sniffled once.
"I couldn't tell Hank. I was going to call him, but I-I couldn't make myself do it. I had to first…"
"I know."
They sat in silence for a while. Their breathing synchronized as Cordelia's slowed to normal and Misty rubbed the bare skin of her arms with a gentle rhythm. Her own breathing struggled with Cordelia's pain, which still seeped in through her skin, and she tried to keep it steady. It was music of muted misery and Misty kept quiet, until Cordelia was ready to break the silence.
After a while she sat up and dried her eyes. She didn't look at Misty, but stared ahead.
"I can't seem to get anything right. I never could. This is just another failure added to the list. I feel so useless."
"Hey, don't say that."
"It's true." She looked down now. "Fiona was always right about me. I may know how to school small kids, but my abilities certainly ends there. I never reached her standards, I never even tried, and I… I can't even conceive, the one thing a woman can count as her biological right. I'm…" She finally looked up at Misty and her gaze was weirdly empty, in a way Misty had never seen before. "I'm not the same girl I was when you left. I don't have a purpose, I have nothing. I take medicine just to get through the day. I should have told you this earlier, but I was declared clinically depressed years ago."
"Enough Delia." The hurt became too much and Misty rushed up from the bed, unable to take this sitting down any longer. "You're not useless or anythin' your mama tells you. I can't stand hearin' you say these things, it hurts. It's not who you are and I know you don't see that, but it's true! 'Cause I see it!"
Cordelia stared at her with a shocked expression at the sudden outburst. Misty stepped closer and added, in a much softer voice: "You may be older now, but you're still the same – yes, you are. Just 'cause your feelin's have a name, don't make 'em different." She wanted to say more, but looking at the frozen figure in front of her, she thought maybe it would be too much for her. Instead she took her face in her hands, stroke her cheeks with her thumps and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
"I don't know if I can truly function without you, Misty", Cordelia whispered.
"You don't gotta find out. I ain't goin' nowhere."
The smallest of smiles tugged at Cordelia's lips. It barely reached her eyes. "Thank you… I sometimes wonder if perhaps you could even fix me."
It took a moment for Misty to realize what she meant, but when she did, dejection crept over her.
"I can only fix what's biological."
"It is biological", Cordelia replied. "I have a lack of serotonin in my brain synapses."
"I don't know what that is… I can try?"
Cordelia nodded and Misty placed her hands around Cordelia's head. Normally she knew by instinct how to do it, but this time she was in doubt, which told her that it would never work. But she tried anyway for Cordelia's sake. She willed the energy to surge through her to rid Delia of all her demons, but nothing came. After a while, she let her hands drop. It felt like that one time she had tried to heal one of Delphine's prisoners and the damage in the man's head wouldn't let her touch it.
"I don't think it works like that", she admitted.
Cordelia sighed. "It was what I expected. I don't blame you. I may just be beyond reach."
"Stop talkin' like that!"
Cordelia's gaze flew up again, surprised.
"I mean it, Delia. It's no good tearin' yourself down like that. I won't have it."
She chuckled, the sound incredulous and devoid of humor. "You're so different from Hank. He's always ready to run and hide, when I say these things."
"Maybe runnin' and hidin' ain't the right thing to do", Misty said. She didn't know what else do to with all these comparisons. Instead she turned the subject back to the core. "Ain't there nothin' they can do?"
Cordelia sighed. "The doctor did have some suggestions. I'm just not that hopeful they will work. He gave me a few treatment options to consider, do you want to see?"
Misty shook her head. "I don't understand all that smart talk anyway." She sat down beside Cordelia again. "Tell me what you want."
"Oh I don't know, Misty. I want to be fixed, but I'm afraid to get my hopes up."
"Sometimes you gotta hope." That made Cordelia look at her again and with a shimmer of wonder in her eyes.
"You make everything sound so simple sometimes. I'll think about it." She let out a frustrated noise and laid back on the bed. It was only a one-person bed and her feet were still dangling from the edge. Misty withdrew her own feet and crawled up beside her. Cordelia's hand lay lonely across her stomach and Misty took it, entwining their fingers. This might be one of the things that made Cordelia all flustered and sometimes caused her to jump up and leave, but not today. Today she just squeezed Misty's hand and stared into space. Sometimes a hard look flickered across her face, but mostly her stare had that emptiness to it, that Misty quickly learned to despise. To her, Cordelia was still the same, only this empty stare was new. Misty had noticed the seeds of this behavior all those years back, but never voiced it. She didn't feel it was something Cordelia wanted to discuss, but now that had changed too.
"What's on your mind?" Misty asked when another of those hard looks ghosted across Cordelia's beautiful, sad face.
"I was thinking about Auntie Myrtle. It was cancer that got her. It's perhaps a more biological disease. I can't help but think that if you had been there, you could have healed her."
"I tried", Misty admitted. There was no point not to. She had kept Myrtle's secret until now, and if Myrtle wanted her to hold her tongue, she could crawl back from the dead to tell her.
Cordelia turned her head, shock in her eyes. "You did? You never told me that."
"She made me promise not to. It was years ago, before you even went to high school. I wanted to help her, but she said I shouldn't risk exposure over her. She wouldn't let me touch her." Misty still remembered that day with perfect clarity. Already half trapped in her concentrated trance, she had reached up for Myrtle's chest, knowing she could ease some of the pain with a simple touch, but Myrtle had stopped her hand, ripped her back to reality. "She thought it would raise too many questions, that could hurt me. 'Don't waste your life on me, child', she said. I'm so sorry, Delia." The memory moved her more than she had expected and her voice almost broke in the end. Cordelia seemed to hear it, because her free hand came to join their entwined fingers on her stomach and she squeezed again.
"It's not your fault. Myrtle wouldn't risk causing you trouble. Classic Myrtle." Cordelia's voice too was dangerously close to breaking. They fell silent. Misty lay her head down beside Cordelia and curled up to her the way she always did when sharing her bed as a child. They didn't need to speak to understand each other's need for comfort. It wasn't long before Cordelia became the little spoon and the pulse Misty could feel pumping just beneath that milky skin started to feel like her own second heartbeat.
O0O
Delphine breathed in the air of freedom. Stepped onto the street, out of captivity. Such a marvelous feeling, being free.
She didn't have many resources, but the eldest of her daughters had sought to that she had something, when she got out. Delphine thought of her Borquita, the youngest one of them. Was she still caught of the web of that horrible woman? Delphine didn't know, but she would soon find out.
First things first though. She took the first bus she could find that got her to the outskirts of New Orleans. The mansion looked exactly like it had ten years ago. Standing tall, letting all its surroundings know of Fiona Goode's supremacy.
She knocked on the door, expecting to have good old Spalding open. Instead, a stranger appeared on the front porch. He didn't look like something Fiona Goode would approve of. He wasn't dressed as though he was a servant, but she felt it wrong to assume him man of the house. There was a boyish insecurity hiding in his adult face.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
Well, he obviously wasn't a burglar, so it couldn't hurt to ask him. She found her most pleasing voice, one she had had plenty of time to polish during her time in prison, and asked:
"I was looking for Madame Goode. Does she still live here?"
"Madame, er... Are you talking about Fiona Goode? Because she lives in Boston now. I live here with my wife. And you are? I feel like I've seen you before, but I can't place you." He ran a hand through his hair and Delphine gave him a moment to make sure he didn't. When he came up empty, she said:
"Oh I'm old friend of the family. I've been out of town, you could say, for many years and I haven't heard from good old Fiona in ages. Is any of the family still around?"
"Yeah, Cordelia still lives here. I'm married to her." So the daughter was still here. Delphine never had much against her. She was a sweet, however fragile, child, but it would be unfortunate if she showed up amidst Delphine's revenge on her mother. This man appeared delightfully clueless of her identity and she preferred to keep it that way, until she found out how to get to Fiona.
"I see. How is sweet Cordelia? Is she home?" It puzzled her how Cordelia had ended up with this man. Those strange eyes aside, her pretty looks surely could have gotten her something better. And brighter.
"She's, um, good. Yeah, she's fine. But no, she's not home at the moment. She'll be back in a few hours, if you want to wait for her."
"Oh that's kind of you. It's no matter, I'll come by another time. I did wonder…" She paused to look at him. Did she dare? "Would it be okay if I peeked inside? I used to visit this house often and I miss the sight of it. It's been so long."
"Er, sure, come on in. What did you say your name was?"
She thought she'd better be on the safe side. "Call me Pauline. It's such a lovely house, don't you agree?" The man nodded along with her, like a puppet on a string. She would enjoy poking at this one with a knife, but there was no time for games. She looked around her old workplace, while carefully making the clueless man of the house spilling the whereabouts of the previous habitant.
"She lives in Boston now, but Cordelia told me she's coming to visit in a week or so."
"Marvelous. I will stop by then – no, don't you tell her. Don't tell any of them, I want to surprise them. I'm told I have a flair for theater."
"Did you know Misty too?" He asked. This spiked Delphine's curiosity. The messy little wild child was next on her list. She deserved a good swing of a blade too, trying to obscure her plans. Little witch, she was.
"I did", Delphine answered, putting on a friendly smile as she looked around the kitchen. "Where is she now?"
"Well, Cordelia tells me she lives in the swamps or something? Somewhere inside the forest. They just recently met again. I haven't even met her."
"Oh so you don't know where in the forest?"
He shook his head. "I have no clue." The phone rang and he excused himself. Delphine found herself alone in the kitchen, suddenly surrounded by an overflow of useful tools. She listened for his voice out in the hallway, while silently coaxing a drawer open. Everything was still in their usual place. She took the prettiest blade in there and hid it in her clothes, making sure it couldn't be seen.
When the oblivious husband returned, Delphine excused herself.
"I've taken up too much of your time, now I must be on my way. Don't tell them of my visit or you'll ruin the surprise. Good day to you."
As she left the Goode mansion, she gently touched the place, where she had hidden the knife. Breathing in the moist air and feeling the smooth metal against her fingers, she felt like her true self again.
