Chapter 6

Brynley

First being interviewed all weekend by the media.

Now, my mom.

Does it ever stop?

Will it ever stop?

“Why aren’t you eating those?” Mom’s palms brace themselves on the marble countertop in her recently finished, rustic cottage home. “They’re handmade chocolate truffles all the way from Switzerland.”

Crossing my ripped jean covered ankles occurs at the same time I poke, “You sure they aren’t poisoned?”

She scoldingly tilts her head to one side, dirty blonde locks shaping her face. “I bought them near the facility she was leaving, not at it.”

Not smirking is almost impossible. “And how was transitioning the redheaded salt succubus from planet M-113 back into civilized society?”

“Simple.” Mom picks up one of the darker chocolate pieces, wiggles it in front of my face, and then shoves it into her mouth to prove it’s edible. “She seems healthy. She’s on the right meds.” Swallowing the contents of her mouth is followed by a sweet grin. “She’s even renting a room above the floral shop she secured a job at during the reintegration process of her program. It’s actually next door to the chocolate shop.”

“Ah, you got a batch before she could sneak over and poison the supply. Smart.”

“ Brynley Elizabeth. ”

It’s my turn to present a toothy smile. “Just because you can forgive and fuck off, doesn’t mean I can.”

“ Forgive and forget. ”

“I will never forgive or forget what that long lost Lethean did to you.”

“She understands.” Mom resumes the unpacking of the dishes from the nearby box on the floor. “However, she did give me yours and Wes’s handwritten amends letters when I met them for dinner on our final night.” The unwrapping of an object begins. “I’ll hand them over whenever you’re ready.”

“Did you have someone scan them for anthrax or other Poison Ivy approved toxins?”

Another reprimanding head tilt is given.

She acts like I’m kidding.

I’m not.

Maybe that crazy cuntcake is healed or on the right meds or praying to a new spirit animal or whatever.

And maybe she isn’t the chick she was a year ago.

But neither am I.

I trust even less than I used to.

Which says a shit ton.

“Back to you not eating.” An odd shaped mosaic vase is revealed to be underneath the brown paper. “And I know it’s not just the chocolate you haven’t been having.”

“How?”

“Mom instincts are tingling.”

“You might wanna get those checked.” I casually inspect the little brown squares in front of me. “Pretty sure there’s a cream for that now.”

“You haven’t been eating or sleeping enough.”

“I mean…I’m sleeping…a little…less?” Diverting my attention back to her is accompanied by a small pursing of my lips. “But like that shit is normal all things considered.”

She quirks an argumentative eyebrow.

“It is! With work, traveling for work, Wes’s work, these damn rich people parties that are social work , and trying to plan a wedding which is its own special brand of hellish work – seriously how many pre-nup documents do I have to read and sign – of course, I’m sleeping a little less than I was as a cigar girl living off of hopelessness and semi stale hoagies.”

“What about headaches?” Mom tosses the crinkled paper into the pile on the right-hand side of the room near the fridge. “Or dizziness?”

“My fucking boss lives to give me headaches and Evie’s compliments to criticism back to compliments gives me enough whiplash to cause the dizzy spells.”

“Hm.” Her contemplative hum ceases her actions once more. “Have you considered that you might be pregnant?”

“Why would you put a hex on your only child?!” Horror hops onto my face. “Your only blood child. Your new redheaded step one doesn’t count.”

“ Bryn. ”

“You can hex her all you want.”

“ Bryn. ”

“Cast whatever spell that witch from Beauty and the Beast used to turn her into a mop bucket or watering can.”

“ I’m serious. ”

“So am I.” Finally picking up one of the milk chocolate truffles, I add, “Bippi boppiti boo that twat into a lawn table.”

“Did you remember to get your last shot?”

“Of course I did!” Chomping down on the candy precedes me snipping. “It’s routine. Hair. Nails. Wax. Shot.” Another bite of the treat is taken. “I never miss any of those appointments.”

“Right, but you do reschedule them.”

Her accusation slows my chewing.

“And since you started working at The Institute, you’ve done a lot of rescheduling.” Mom retrieves another wrapped item to resume her unloading. “Are you a hundred and ten percent sure you received or rescheduled and then received your birth control shot?”

“I’m not even a hundred and ten percent sure I brushed my fucking teeth today.”

At that, she snickers, shakes her head, and starts to peel away the paper. “I’m not taking your ass to the dentist because you have eighteen cavities from covering your teeth in chocolate instead of toothpaste.”

“You gave me the chocolate!”

“And I gave you the skills to brush your fucking teeth.”

Laughter bounces my entire body as I finish the last bite.

“Seriously, Bryn,” Mom sighs prior to finding my stare once more, “go ahead and check your schedule. We both know the last thing you need right now are any big, unexpected surprises.”