The atmosphere that Meghan now lived in was dark enough to depress even the most enthusiastic person. And there was real proof of this, because that person had once been Faye.
Faye, however, was not the only morose one. At least, now she wasn't. Apparently it was now the entire Winthrop family that was suffering this dark despair. It was different, though, because they had a clear, valid reason for it.
Laurence's restaurant, The Crystal Spoon, had recieved its long-awaited inspection that very afternoon - Thursday, October XXX, 2003. This inspection, which had actually started out considerably well (the food had been branded as marvelous, the atmosphere stimulating), had quickly gone awry when the inspector had gotten the curious feeling of something crawling up his leg.
This thing was found to be a rat.
Chaos immediately ensued. The restaurant inspector leaped out of his chair, wildly shaking his leg and shouting all the while. One brave busboy - you can guess who - jumped on the man, who had by this time toppled onto the floor. Grabbing the affected leg, the busboy reached up through the ankle of the man's trousers, grabbing the rodent and throwing it by the tail.
The rat landed halfway across the room, and then made a beeline for a rather large woman sitting a short distance away. Seeing this, the woman worked to force out a scream as she clutched a cup of hot tea in her trembling hand. As the scream escaped, the busboy moved from where he was to pounce on the rat. He was successful, and was able to throw it outside.
But just as he was able to take a breath of relief, another scream was heard, this one bloodcurdling. Apparently, another rat had been found - exploring the large woman's equally large hairdo. The woman fainted, and the rest was history.
Consequently, the inspector left the restaurant piping mad, after handing a flabbergasted Laurence a notice that stated that the establishment would be closed within a month.
Almost nothing on earth could've brought a darker cloud over the Winthrop house. Laurence always had his head in his hands, rubbing it as if he had a constant migraine. Emma could barely speak without breaking into tears. Anthony, the eating machine, could now barely touch his food.
And then, of course, there was Faye.
Faye had, of course, already been depressed. She had already been wallowing in self-pity, agonizing over her suspension - and over a certain something she'd found out of Meghan's bag.
But with this new misery, the burdens Faye had been carrying were almost completely forgotten. Almost.
Now, she was far worse than she'd ever been before - and believe it or not, it was actually possible.
Meghan was living in the middle of all of this, and it was very unpleasant. There was nothing she could do or say to make it better for any of them, and she herself felt horrible. She'd attacked Faye, but she'd been wrong. Now, Faye had every right to be depressed.
And now, Meghan decided, the best place for her was away.
Every day, Meghan would escape, with the man whom she fancied and facied her back. More and more, too, they were finding themselves visting their dear friends at Dashwood Manor.
Jocelyn was always pleasant. She seemd to love nothing more than to sip tea with Meghan, discussing each day's happenings and giving her the occasional etiquette lesson. They grew more and more comfortable around each other, and Meghan grew to love tea cookies more each time.
And of course, there was Henry, who seemed to be doing a lot of shirking on his responsibilities, especially whenever the two teenagers came around. There were more chess games, to be sure, but Meghan and Henry no longer had to be playing chess in order to talk comfortably to each other. Meghan came to adore being around Henry - but would always try to repress that adoration. It always brought guilt with it.
Because no matter what she said, no matter what she did, no matter how great the oppurtunity was, and no matter how open or understanding Jocelyn or Henry seemed, Meghan just couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. About Daphne.
She didn't know why she did this. It may have been fear of rejection. It may have been embarassment. Or she may have just been trying to spare them the shock...for just a little while longer...
But there might have been another reason. A reason that Meghan didn't want to consider.
The thing was, when she was around Henry...she felt something. Something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. And whenever she'd leave, she'd notice a pain within herself. It was familiar, but also somewhat new, because it had long been ignored.
Luke helped a little. He worked as a mediator of some sort, an insider for both sides. He knew how to act around the Dashwoods and how they lived, because he'd always lived and acted the same way. He was always there to guide Meghan, to support her.
And he knew Meghan's side. He'd always felt that urge to break the seal, to be something other than what he was told to be. This was what Meghan was. This was who she was, what she was about.
And what was he about? Why, he was both things, mixed together.
Luke hoped that by bringing Meghan here again and again, she'd become close enough to be able to surrender the burden of this secret she'd been carrying. It was strange for Luke to watch Henry, who was oblivious - but yet, seemed to sense something. As for Jocelyn, it was as if she knew and didn't know at the same time. She'd been the one that had invited Luke over for tea that one day, and had requested that he bring Meghan along with him. He'd simply gone along with it, playing his part and believing that if nothing else, Jocelyn sought to at least become friends with Meghan - and apparently, bring her son into the equation as well.
But Luke guessed that it was more than that. He knew that Lady Dashwood was a smart woman. And whatever she wanted, Luke planned to go with it.
As November neared, Jocelyn was seeming to become more and more focused on the upcoming Winter Ball, which would come close to November's end. That is, even though November was autumn. So really, it was more like an Anticipating Winter Ball. But no matter.
She, of course, was on the planning commitee. Also, however, she'd be attending the ball herself, and planned to bring the enitire 'family' with her to chaperone as well. This made Meghan nervous, to know that not only Clarissa, but Alistair as well, would be breathing down her neck for the entire dance.
But then again, Henry and Jocelyn would be there.
However, one other person would be attending the ball with the Dashwood lot. Someone that Meghan wouldn't have the "pleasure" of meeting until her fourth visit to the mansion.
That day, Meghan had ventured into another part of the building, after being told by Jocelyn to "take a look around". She'd found a rather large, extravagantly decorated bathroom, with a tub in the very middle of it, sporting a funny looking nozzle-spray-spicket-faucet contraption. Nearby was a shower, and Meghan noticed some shampoos nearby that looked to be imported from France.
Daphne has to use Finding Nemo shampoo from Dollar Shrub. Meghan thought.
She came out of the bathroom and wandered a little further down the hall, ever wary of Alistair, who could jump out hollering and waving numchucks any moment. Within a few steps, she spied a random ledge on the wall, which held upon it a try of chocolate truffles.
All we've got is a bowl of old Halloween candy. From last year. And it's almost Halloween again.
Meghan kept walking. Eventually, she rounded the corner - and found herself in another sitting room. With Glynnis.
The brown-haired woman was at some kind of table/desk/thing, her nose in what looked to be a catalogue. Immediately, Meghan turned to walk out.
"You." the woman stated. "Hold it."
Meghan stopped.
"Turn around."
Meghan turned.
"Who are you?"
"Meghan Reynolds."
Glynnis was silent, her head still bent as she studied her catalogue. Then she looked up, her face rather dull and glazed over.
"Come here."
Hesitantly, Meghan approached the tabledesk. She stood in front of it, looking at Glynnis, whose eyes were on some type of flower arrangement picture on her open page. Meghan saw that what Glynnis was looking at was a wedding catalogue. The sight hurt.
The woman was silent for a few more seconds. Then she spoke.
"Are you one of Clarissa's friends?" Glynnis droned.
"No." Meghan answered. No puzzler there.
"What are you, then?" Glynnis asked, begrudgingly dragging her eyes away from the flowers to face the girl in question. "You've been here an awful lot lately."
Many things confused Meghan about this.
First, there was the fact that Glynnis seemed to have no idea who she was, despite Meghan's being pictured and talked of in many magazines and news programs as being the trophy girl of the future Lord Brenshire.
Second, she'd been here only three times before - Meghan didn't call that a lot. And she hadn't seen Glynnis around at all, so how would she know anyway?
Third, the previous things clearly indicated that Glynnis was an idiot. Why was Henry marrying an idiot?
"I'm...just...Meghan." she stammered, not knowing what else to say. It was a dumb answer. But then, Glynnis was a dumb woman.
"I suppose you are." Glynnis mumbled. her eyes went back to the picture. She grimaced at the sight, drew a huge X through it, and proceeded to turn the page.
Meghan stood there, unsure of what to do.
"You're a very strange girl, Meghan." Glynnis commented.
"I know."
She stood there some more.
"Well, go on then! I'm very busy."
Relieved, Meghan quickly left the room. And, feeling as if her intelligence quota had gone down several points during that conversation, she continued her exploration of the house.
She soon came upon a potted plant. Even it seemed smarter than Glynnis.
And now, rhapsodyflower sneaks up behind Alistair, who is seen talking to a random diplomat. She takes out her special author remote and presses the special zappy-freeze button, freezing the both of them. Mrs.Scott323 now enters the room, and gives Alistair a hard punch in the head. rhapsodyflower then sees the pudding the diplomat is about to eat and steals it. Then, she unfreezes them as she walks away.
"So you see, Mr. Bigshotpoliticianguywhosamasquatz - oh...oh my, I seem to have suddenly come down with a most terrible headache...you'll have to excuse me." (starts walking away)
"Where's...where's my pudding?"
Alistair winces in pain as he shuffles out."Ice! I demand some ICE!"
Take that, fathead.
-rf-