Chapter Six: Father Knows Best
Earlier that month . . .
They sat at a table, in an undecorated room. A guard was standing outside the door, making sure that they wouldn't make a run for it.
The Hood's tone suddenly became angry as the discussion turned to Tessa. "The guards have informed me that she's thinking of pressing charges for the kidnapping that happened close to a year ago. Who does she think she is! I'm her father!" The rage in his voice would have never been mistaken for anything else, but Mimosa's empathic powers were running high. She knew that the Hood was feeling more hurt than angry . . . more so, he wanted revenge.
Mimosa may have wanted her sister, but she'd wanted a father for far longer. "What do you propose we do about it?" she asked.
The Hood calmed down slightly, and after a moment, he let a low laugh echo in his throat. "I have a few ideas . . ."
Mimosa quickly checked the door, which the guard was standing behind, attempting to thwart any plans they might come up with. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Exactly what would those be?" she asked in an adventurous tone.
The Hood leaned towards his daughter, a vicious grin spreading across his already wicked appearance. "I don't want them married. I've already made that clear enough, haven't I?"
She nodded. "So the plan is to break them up?" Mimosa guessed.
The Hood thought for a moment. "More or less . . . but in a more . . . permanent sense." He leaned back in his metal chair. "On their wedding day, we will split them up in a rather forceful way. One that guarantees my daughter will never be with that son of Jeff Tracy.
"On the morning of October 12th," he continued in a casual voice, as if he'd played the whole thing out thousands of times in his head, "we will be waiting on the edge of the island. You and I, Mimosa, will slowly head through the jungle and position ourselves. No one will notice - they will be too busy dressing themselves and fixing up food to stuff themselves with after the ceremony. We will watch the wedding, being careful not to give ourselves away," The Hood's grin faded a bit. "Once they finish their 'I do's', we simply shoot Virgil."
Mimosa blinked. She knew her father was slightly insane, but this was a bit extreme for him - as far as she knew. She sat up. "What exactly did he do to deserve such a punishment?"
The Hood wasn't looking at her. His body language seemed to say he was much too important to be bothered. "His father left me for dead and now he thinks he's good enough for my daughter. She won't listen to reason, so we must solve her problems for her."
Mimosa shook her head. She looked up at her father. "What if we miss and hit her?"
The Hood turned to her and smiled. "Our problem will still have been solved." Changing the subject rather quickly, he started talking again. "Now, dear, we need to start work immediately. If we happen to come across her, we can still give her a chance to leave him. If not, well, we've already decided what will happen."
–
Mimosa needed to settle down. It was clear her father didn't care for his eldest daughter - or, rather, his eldest legitimate daughter. After all, who knew how many other children he'd abandoned?
She sat at her computer, drumming her fingers against her chin, thinking it over. The Hood's ideas of revenge were much grander than any normal person's. Mimosa didn't like the idea, but she knew she was going to have to go through with it or risk the same fate.
Her buddy list popped up, showing Gordon to be online. Mimosa smiled. He's so lucky . . . he doesn't have to deal with The Hood for the rest of his life, she thought to herself. Clicking on his name, she opened up a conversation with him.
MuffinTree37: So . . . did you figure it out yet?
She awaited his reply. She still didn't know how he was going to take it, or how she was going to say it . . . but she wanted him to know.
HoboJoe214: Figure out . . . what, exactly?
Mimosa laughed.
MuffinTree37: rolleyes You know. The whole "I know who you are" thing.
HoboJoe214: Oh! That!
Pause
MuffinTree37: )- I'll take that as a 'no'.
HoboJoe214: You'd be right if you did. :P
She laughed out loud, but her insides were knotting. She was going to have to say it. I love you, Gordon . . . , she practised in her head.
MuffinTree37: Any guesses?
HoboJoe214: Okay! I confess! I'm not who you think I am! I am an international spy who's soul mission is to make sure the world's supply of jelly donuts never dives too low.
MuffinTree37: rolleyes That was so funny, I forgot to laugh.
HoboJoe214: Could you give me a hint? Even a little one?
Mimosa decided it would be best to just bite the bullet. She typed her response, butterflies in her stomach the whole time.
MuffinTree37: How about I just tell you?
HoboJoe214: Would you? Please?
MuffinTree37: . . . Promise not to crack a joke or dump me?
HoboJoe214: Why would I dump you for something I am . . . ?
MuffinTree37: Do you promise?
HoboJoe214: Okay, I promise I will not dump you for whatever it is you are planning on saying next.
MuffinTree37: And . . . ?
HoboJoe214: And I promise not to make a joke or flip out.
Mimosa paused. She swallowed hard. This was big, and rather sudden, she knew. Praying he wouldn't laugh at her or leave her, she typed:
MuffinTree37: Gordon, you're the first guy I've ever really been in love with.
There was a long pause in which he said nothing.
MuffinTree37: Well . . . ?
HoboJoe214: I . . . don't know what to say.
Her face fell into her hand briefly. She looked up long enough to type a response. She needed out of this conversation. Fast.
MuffinTree37: I knew you'd freak out.
With that, she logged off, not willing to read his response. She walked over to the sofa in her suite and sank into it. Her hands around her stomach, she shuddered.
Mimosa knew she shouldn't have brought it up, she just shouldn't have! It was way too soon. They'd only been dating for, what? Like a month, at most. Some people don't say it for like, years. Then again, some people say it and don't mean it. At least she was being honest.
Was that it? Did Gordon Tracy simply not love her back? What was she doing wrong?
They knew too little about each other, that had to be it. She nodded to herself, sitting up slightly. "That has to be it. I mean, he knows hardly anything about me or my dad, and - and, I know barely anything about his family," she stammered, talking to herself, "Maybe we just need to meet up again a few more times. Or something. We can fix it, we can."
She tried to convince herself of it. If she kept telling herself it, maybe it would be true.
–
The screen pinged to life.
HoboJoe214: Mimosa, I know you're there. Please say something.
Ugh, why had she even come on today? Like she didn't have enough to deal with. Her father had sent her a message asking her back - this being the very next day. When she'd gone, he'd informed her that she was going to have to track down Tessa and Virgil, as both were in the city now. He'd given her an assignment to put into action in two days' time. For some reason she'd thought the pressure she was feeling would subside by coming online. Boy, was she wrong.
HoboJoe214: Mim, I swear I'm not angry. And I'm not going to brake up with you. I . . . I really like you.
MuffinTree37: But you think this is going too fast?
Her reply was written bitterly. She winced after hitting send, having momentarily forgotten she wasn't going to speak to Gordon today.
HoboJoe214: Yes . . . I mean, no. I don't know. I really don't.
It was a relief to her to know that he wasn't sure of anything anymore either.
MuffinTree37: I don't either. I really like what we have . . . I guess I made that obvious. What should we do?
HoboJoe214: Well . . . I don't know. Maybe we should slow things down.
MuffinTree37: Gordon, if you hadn't noticed, we're in an internet relationship. Things can't get much slower.
HoboJoe214: I suppose you're right. Maybe we should just let things take their course. Move on.
Mimosa thought, and decided she could live with that. Maybe it wasn't her first choice for the way things would go after she told him how she felt but this was as good as it was going to get. Over-exaggerating her enthusiasm, she gave him a reply. She really just wanted to forget the whole topic for awhile and talk about nothing.
MuffinTree37: Okay. : ) Anything new on your end?
–
The very next day, Mimosa had raced to see if Gordon was going to be on. Sure enough, he'd been there, ready to make her forget everything her father was making her do . . . for awhile.
HoboJoe214: How are things in London?
MuffinTree37: Lonely. pouts I really wish you were here.
She missed Gordon, she truly did. Mimosa couldn't understand why he was always out of the country. Why even bother owning a home if you're never going to live in it?
HoboJoe214: I'd love to join you, but I just can't. I'm in Scotland now. Work.
MuffinTree37: Yeah, I have to go back to work soon.
HoboJoe214: Yeah, but your work is fun.
Mimosa knew that . . . but she thought she'd make him feel better for having an ever-so-slightly less cool job by being modest.
MuffinTree37: rolleyes Everyone thinks that, but there's actually a lot of stress involved. There's a certain deadline we have to meet for each panel and if the subject isn't perfect in each one, there's hell to pay.
HoboJoe214: But you're a comic book artist! Every little kid's dream.
MuffinTree37: I know.
So much for modesty.
HoboJoe214: You get to draw superheroes all day long. And you're living your dream.
Mimosa paused. Something about his words reminded her of a conversation she'd had with her father not too long ago. Her smile faded slightly when she finally typed her response.
MuffinTree37: I suppose.
HoboJoe214: Is something wrong?
She didn't want to tell Gordon too much - or, rather, she knew she shouldn't. Trying not too give away anything critical, she explained the situation to him.
MuffinTree37: I love my job, really I do. But my dad really wants me to leave it so I can be with him more. 'There are comic books in London,' he says. 'I wasn't around much when you were growing up, and I want to make up for it.' I tell him that he's not even English! He was living in the States when my parents met, but somehow he doesn't understand why we should go back there.
HoboJoe214: So what are you going to do?
She sighed.
MuffinTree37: I don't know. I love the States . . . but I love my dad. And being in London would make me closer to you.
HoboJoe214: It wouldn't matter where you were, I'd still care about you. Don't worry about me.
Isn't he a sweetheart? she asked herself. He didn't care if she was one mile away or one thousands miles away. He'd still care about her. Maybe she could sacrifice her dream job for him. Perhaps Gordon even loved her back . . . even if he wasn't ready to say it.
–
Mimosa strode through the mall, her heels clicking as she made her way around yet another corner. If she was her father, she would have known where they were by now. The Hood knew everything, she was quickly learning. She didn't know whether she liked that about him or not. Ironically, she wasn't sure she wanted to make any decisions about him lest he found out.
She'd dressed to impress. She wanted to intimidate them, something she didn't often accomplish with her comical height. Mimosa had decided to wear her black dress and matching clutch purse - not that she intended to buy anything but she wanted to blend in. She wasn't too fancy - it was summer, after all. Some people wore similar outfits in different colours.
Finally, she rounded the right corner. Mimosa stared down the hall at her half-sister. Her father's words echoed through her head. "Act as if it were all natural. Do not give anything away," he'd told her.
She took a few more steps toward the jewellery store. If she makes a fuss, don't retaliate. Never back down.
Mimosa was drawing closer to Tessa. Virgil was clearly visible now. As soon as Tessa looked up, she would notice Mimosa. The most urgent words her father had spoken were now ringing through her head. Watch her hands at all times. Try not to be too obvious, but don't let your attention draw away from them for too long. If she balls a fist, be prepared to get away quick. It's unlikely she'd use her power in the middle of the mall, but you never know what she'll do when provoked . . .
Tessa's eyes looked up at her then. Mimosa wanted to stop and turn around, but she forced herself on, trying to even her breathing. Putting on the most cruel face she could muster, she approached the couple. She stood in front of them. Giving them a sickening sweet smile, she broke the ice, "Hello, Tessa."
Turning, she sent a cascade of her black wavy hair behind her shoulder flirtatiously. She looked the man beside her sister up and down. She decided he was actually pretty hot. (What could Dad possibly have against that? she wondered.) "And you must be Virgil," she added in an ever-so-slightly more genuine tone.
It was clear to Mimosa that Virgil didn't give a rat's ass about her. "You must be Mimosa," he threw back at her in a sarcastic version of her tone.
She gave him a gorgeously sarcastic grin at his words. Whatever, I have work to do, she told herself. Turning back to her sister, she continued with the plan her father hand laid out for her, "Daddy and I were wondering when you were going to give up this little scheme to get back at him, and come join us again." The sweetness had started to leave her tone.
Tess actually laughed at Mimosa. Mimosa knew this would probably happen, so she was prepared for the words her sister threw back. "Well, you're rather blunt. But you're also terribly wrong. This isn't a 'scheme' to get back at your father or you. And I am not going to become involved in any sort of charade that involves The Hood. And what's this 'again' thing all about? As I recall, I only met you little over a month ago and it didn't go so well."
Mimosa knew she was genuinely mad at their father - or 'her father', as Tessa had put it. Braving a glance at Tessa's hand, her father's words began to go through her head again. It's possible she may not even have inherited the power. It's also possible she doesn't know about it - but don't take that chance.
Looking her sister right in the eye, Mimosa gave the speech her father had told her to give, bluffing the braveness in her tone. She herself didn't believe that the words actually came out. It would amaze Mimosa if Virgil actually believed them. At best, they might shake him up a bit. "Come on, Tessa. We both know you've just been spying on the Tracys. First you're 'shipwrecked' on their island. Next, you start dating Virgil - just as your father heads off to jail. No doubt you only did that to reassure Jeff and the rest that you were with them. Poor Virgil - you even accepted his proposal!" Mimosa gave a little laugh. "Just admit you don't love Virgil Tracy and you've been playing him all along. Then things can go back to the way they once were." She smiled awaiting her sister's response, silently praying this conversation wasn't going to end with her dead.
Mimosa's eyes darted almost involuntarily towards her sister's hand. She can throw fire, her father had said, or at least her mother could.
And now her sister's hand was balling into a fist. Tessa was threatening her and it was working. "Take that back," Tessa Highlander insisted, rage burning through her and hitting Mimosa's empathic senses. Somehow, she knew her sister didn't want to do it though.
Her eyes darted back to her sister's hand one last time. She straightened up. Trying to act brave (though somehow knowing she was failing miserably), Mimosa looked at Tessa darkly and asked, "You have a problem with the truth?"
Tessa shook her head and sighed in annoyance. Starting to raise her fist, Tessa continued: "Truth, I have no problem with, but the crap you're giving out? Yeah, I have a problem with that."
Much to the relief of Mimosa, she relaxed her hand, and used it to grab her fiancé's arm. "Let's go, Virgil."
They were turning to leave. As they started to make their way down the hall, Mimosa knew she had to give one final blow for the day. "Think about it," she called after them. Tessa threw her a glare, which Mimosa returned with a smirk.
Having finished her duty, Mimosa intended to turn back around and leave the way she came. Once she was in a position that wasn't facing Virgil or Tessa, she visibly sighed with relief of it being over. She began to walk down the hall again.
Fate is sometimes a wonderful thing - it can lead you to the most extraordinary things. Karma is also great . . . but right now both were working against Mimosa.
Bits and pieces of Virgil and Tess's conversation were making their way up the hall to where she was walking. "Are you okay?" Virgil's soothing voice asked.
Mimosa had no intention of eavesdropping on her sister and future-brother-in-law. But she couldn't help overhearing Tessa's gut-wrenching words. "Why Gordon would ever like her is beyond me . . ."
Mimosa stopped dead in the middle of the hall and turned back, staring at the bench they were on. How do they know about Gordon! she asked herself frantically.
It took her a minute to realize it, but then it dawned on her: What was Virgil's last name . . . ? she asked herself.
Mimosa's eyes widened. Her breathing stopped. She collapsed on the next bench she found. Her eyes searched the floor as if it would give her answers. Tracy. Gordon was a Tracy. Not just a Tracy, one of the Tracys. "This can't be happening!" she pleaded.
Her face fell into her hands and she felt as if she would start to sob - in the middle of the mall. She knew people would stare, but she didn't care. Tears began to stream down her face gently. Things were going so well . . . he was so perfect. Sweet, understanding and fun to be with - that was Gordon in a nutshell. They shared interests and hatreds . . . he'd opened her eyes to new things and she'd done the same for him. She smiled through her tears as an image of his face appeared in her head. Everything she wanted . . . and he was in the one group of people she couldn't be with.
With real bravery this time, she wiped her tears on the back of her hand and sat up on the bench. Telling herself she had to move, she got up and strode more quickly than before through the mall. When she got back to her room, she knew what she was going to do: sob uncontrollably and then break her own heart.
–
Mimosa sat at the screen, staring for what felt like hours. Tear stains still were visible on her face. She was wearing a long sweater and some jeans. Her hair was unkempt. Her make-up had long-since washed off. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Mimosa was the definition of a mess.
HoboJoe214: Hey, baby.
MuffinTree37: Oh . . . hey. I didn't see you on.
She lied . . . she just couldn't bring herself to do this - that was why she hadn't clicked on his name.
HoboJoe214: That's okay. How are you?
She sniffed back tears and tried to be brave. That was the beauty of instant massaging though - you couldn't tell what the person on the other end was feeling unless they told you.
MuffinTree37: Let's cut the small-talk.
HoboJoe214: Uh, okay. Is something the matter?
MuffinTree37: Look, Gordon, we knew this couldn't go on forever like this, right?
Mimosa's heart was breaking. But she had to do this - for the both of them. Part of her wanted his heart to break too, just so she'd know that he'd actually felt something for her. The other part couldn't bare the thought of him in pain.
HoboJoe214: What? Well, I guess . . .
MuffinTree37: I mean, even if you did love me back, how would this work out? You're always on some mission 'for the Queen'. Even if I happen to travel across the ocean, you can't find the time to see me.
No wonder, she said to herself, you don't even live in England.
HoboJoe214: Be fair, now. I had no idea you were coming and couldn't plan for it!
MuffinTree37: Oh, come on, you could have at least mentioned 'Hey, I'm going to Scotland!' in one of your messages!
She was curious to see his answer, even though she knew it would be a lie. He couldn't outright tell her the truth could he? If he could, after all, this would have happened awhile ago.
HoboJoe214: I thought it wouldn't matter! You're in the States for crying out loud! It's not like you're going to walk over to my house one day for tea and find I'm not home and call the police!
This was the part that was going to hurt the both of them the most. But she knew it had to be done. She also now knew he had only been postponing it himself.
MuffinTree37: Don't you get it? This isn't working! Our relationship is based on instant messaging, but we don't communicate! And, Gordon, I can't live off of IMs. Even if you were to tell me you loved me back, where would we live? With my messed-up family in London, where your job is? Where my messed-up life in the States is?
There was a long, painful pause.
HoboJoe214: Please tell me you aren't saying what I think you are. Tell me I'm not losing you. I . . . I do love you.
MuffinTree37: I'm sorry, it's too late. Gordon, it's over. Let it go.
That was going to be hard for the both of them, she knew.
HoboJoe214: Please, don't -
Tears rolled down her eyes again as she hit the sign-out button. She closed her laptop. Making her way over to the bed in her hotel room, she collapsed and did what she deserved to do.
She cried all night.