Chapter 26:

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As soon as Glenn stepped onto Rosalind's vast estate, he saw it was broad with land in all directions. Behind the large brick mansion were trees and trees, making Glenn rightly assume that they grew maple for a living in syrups. It was a peaceful place, especially with the lovely view of the sun hitting the treetops, but he was immediately intimidated by Rosalind's very large family. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, cousins and nieces… while Glenn had never known any family besides his parents and Covenant brethren. Rosalind rattled off names that he would never begin to remember, pointing out the most important people to him as they came up to greet him. He got hugs from almost every person he was introduced to, which he received stiffly with surprise. Hugs and handshakes were something he avoided if he could, seeing as hands were almost always unsanitary and hugs were uncomfortable, awkward with strangers and wrinkled his clothing. Yet again, Glenn had to keep his silence and force himself out of his comfort zone to make a good first impression on her family.

All of a sudden, a large horse-beast came galloping up to Glenn in leaps and bounds, tackling Glenn easily to the soft earth. Glenn landed harsh, getting the wind knocked out of his lungs.

"Down, Tito!" Rosalind commanded in a harsh voice, yanking the horse-like animal off of Glenn. Glenn shot up to his feet, leaping several yards away from the creature in fear.

"What is that thing?"

"Awww!" Rosalind scolded. She bent down to the beast dog and scrunched its wrinkly face with her hands. She spoke to him in a baby voice, with a puckered up face to match. "Don't insult my cute wittle Tito…"

"Little?" Glenn said, wiping the dirt off his arms. "More like monstrous."

"Wow," Rosalind's brother, named Conner, commented as he passed. "Kinda wimpy, isn't he, Rose?"

Glenn stood a little taller, feeling rather insulted, but said nothing for the sake of good manners. Rosalind simply swatted her brother on the shoulder in punishment, then sent Glenn an apologetic, yet grateful look that Glenn was keeping his silence through their rudeness.

-

James sat with Joe, drinking wine together on his back porch, watching the night sky. They had been here long before the sun had set, and still remained long after, talking about life and love and what calamities the world had thrown at him of late.

"And Glenn walked in on Wayne with what he thought was still my girlfriend?"

"Yeah…" Joe reminisced, chuckling a bit. "And Glenn was so upset that he accidentally broke the ant farm he kept on his dresser."

James snickered too.

"Oh yes, he was picking ants out of his drawers for weeks."

James shook his head, laughing some more.

"Poor guy; he was only trying to save me some grief."

"Of course, and it's not like stealing our girls was beneath Wayne or anything."

"Exactly."

James and Joe stared out into the trees, each deep in thought about their comrades.

"So," Joe said, finally realizing something. "What was the deal with Bee?"

James thought on it some, not being able to remember what Joe was referring to. As it dawned on him… his face plummeted.

"Beatrice," James breathed. "I was trying to find Beatrice. That's why I came here in the first place."

Joe waved goodbye to James before he even moved to go, having figured quickly James would not be sticking around any longer.

"See ya," Joe called as James hurried out.

-

James knocked on Beatrice's door gently, his heart beating in his ears and hoping that whatever laid beyond this door was not what he suspected it was. Beatrice opened up the door to him, half-asleep since it was quite late in the night. James breathed a sigh of relief, but still demanded answers.

"Where were you?" James said a little too harshly. "I waited up for you and you never showed… I thought— and with—well, where were you? Why aren't you answering me?"

"I'm being polite and waiting for my turn to talk," Beatrice retorted smartly, yawning a bit. "Wayne kidnapped me today, but I think we have all this stalker business sorted out."

James was taken aback by her honesty.

"Oh," he managed to say. "Nothing… nothing happened, right?"

Beatrice was confused by the question.

"You mean, between me and—? Oh, GOD no. Jim, you know me better than that."

James nodded, sighing deeply again, all being right in the world. He put on a reassured smile, then turned to leave.

"Night, Bee," he said cheerfully, waving as he walked off.

Just as James went to turn around the corner, he stole one more glance at Bee. She didn't see him, so he took his fill of the view of her. It was only then that he noticed that Beatrice was tapping her foot and biting her lip: A telltale sign… that she was lying.

-

Once inside the house, Glenn saw that it was a cozy, large home, dimly lit and surrounded with areas he felt like seizing with a good mop and dust cloth. Clutter was everywhere he looked, antiques and likely family heirlooms. Crystal vases of all shapes and sizes lined a particular dusty wooden shelf, it being one of the first things to see when he walked in the foyer. Near the kitchen entrance, people filled every available seat. A large grandfather clock chimed near a hallway, so loud a bell it made Glenn jump. Glenn suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. He was a particular fellow, in need for order and organization in his life, and he was quickly finding out that Rosalind's family was exactly the opposite. All this was by sight alone… he hadn't even sat down for dinner yet.

Glenn pulled out a seat for Rosalind at the dining room table, and took a seat himself. Immediately the women of the family flocked over to serve him, throwing things on his plate by the clusters. Foods of all shapes, colors and consistencies stood before him in a mound. And Glenn had not even been hungry to begin with.

"So, Glenn," Rosalind's mother asked. "How are the potatoes?"

Glenn had just put a particularly large glob of the mashed gravy-drenched substance into his mouth, the sticky matter making it hard to swallow and impossible to talk through. Not to mention they tasted like sawdust and bile. He just nodded to let her know they were fine. It seemed to satisfy her enough.

"So, Mr. Simms," Rosalind's grandmother went on to say. "How did come to meet our dear Rosie?"

"Well…" Glenn said, swallowing the lump of potatoes whole, glad for the excuse to stop eating. He looked to Rosalind for help, suddenly realizing he didn't know what to say. Should he tell the truth, and confess he had picked her up in a bar? "Well, we… we met in a… uh…"

"What, you don't remember?" Rosie's brother asked with cynicism. He heard her father let out a chuckle.

"We met in a library," Rosalind put in, putting a hand on Glenn's shoulder. "Remember, honey?"

"That's right," Glenn agreed with relief. "That night when there were the Marblehead Daredevil races--"

"--and we spent the evening playing Go Fish in the encyclopedia section hiding from being invited," Rosalind added quickly.

"I love how you finish each other's sentences," Rosalind's grandmother commented. "It's so romantic."

Glenn gave a warm smile to the woman he was getting out of his comfort zone for. Rosalind gave him the millionth encouraging, apologetic, 'just-a-little-longer-and-we'll-be-done-with-this" smile of the day.

"So," Rosalind's father added on with deep and obvious suspicion in his voice. "If you are all 'married' and what not… Why are you not wearing rings?"

It was Rosalind's turn to look to Glenn for help, but he had suddenly lost all means of getting oxygen into his lungs.

-

Evelyn searched through the shelves and shelves of large old books that the library had to offer. There were so many books on ancient folklore, that she had trouble deciding what to do her report on. She'd always been interested in Greek mythology and Norse legends and the like, but she couldn't help but wonder if there were any legends closer to home. The librarian directed her to this very aisle, but still, she couldn't find anything to her liking.

Soon a boy drifted into her aisle, in his own search for a book of an unknown genre. He was a taller boy, extremely handsome and very lean. He was broad of shoulder and tiny of waist, with dark brown hair, disheveled and hanging in his face. His bright green eyes shined even through the dim lighting like neon orbs.

"Heard you're doing Ms. Grendal's half-year report, right?"

Evelyn nodded and chuckled slightly in unease.

"I had her last year," he explained. "Make your report two pages longer than she asks and she'll give you an 'A' regardless of content."

"Thanks," Evelyn replied. "But I care about the content even if she doesn't."

"A overachiever, huh?"

"A self-motivater, really. By day known as Evelyn Withermoore."

She held out her hand for him to shake. He took it gladly.

"Ben," he replied. "Benjamin Goodwin Pope."

-

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Signed,
--RedRogue