Today is a special day, because it a year has passed since I started playing the Waverlys! Proof (first screenshot I took from the file):
http://i.imgur.com/f3i7KIo.pngSo I'm obliged to get something out for you guys.
Anyways, I started this dynasty with no idea how the story would shape up, and especially with no idea about the response I'd get from readers. I love all of you guys.
Chapter 90: The Hideaway
Winter dragged on. The lake in the center of town froze over, ice hung from the branches of the willow trees, and not a single cicada stayed awake to fill the air with its buzzing song.
The roads were deemed dangerous due to the weather, but that wasn’t enough to stop an addict. Annette brushed the snow off the windshield of Bill’s old police cruiser and pursued not justice nor an excuse to act like a complete, prejudiced jerk hiding under a badge, but the sweet escape of juice.
The Swamp Goblin dance club pulsated with a bass drop from the dubstep track that was playing. Annette felt it in the counter and in her bottle of juice, a familiar feeling. After all, she spent her first night in Twinbrook in the same building, back when it was called The Grind and when she didn’t even own sheets of drywall, let alone having the funds to own all of the clubs in far-away Bridgeport if she pleased.
She knocked over what was left in her drink and didn’t lick the counter to get her money’s worth. Was Annette becoming guilty over a habit that tore her and her liver apart? Judging by her future actions, no, so I’m going to assume that she maybe have had a stolen item to return to its owner instead.
Or it was over Tegan. She ran the length of the town, from the club to the old fire station in the center of town, hoping to find her great-granddaughter there. She said something about spending some time in her sanctuary that still smelled like the sweat of firefighters. And Tegan would have to deal with Annette intruding that.
Annette, being herself, didn’t knock on the door or give Tegan a proper hello. She propped herself up on a nearby barstool.
“Rumor has it that you’re a free woman now,” Annette said. Tegan looked over her shoulder towards her great-grandmother.
“Depends how you define it,” said Tegan.
“No more Bryant and someone a lot better?”
“No and yes.” She started to walk away. Annette had gotten up from her barstool by then.
“Christ, Tegan! This isn’t like you.” Annette hit her face in disappointment. “Don’t cheat and just break up with him first. He can’t hurt a bunch of elderly gym nuts like us, and he certainly won’t get past your drunk granny, now will he?”
“I don’t know what to say to him,” she said. “I guess I never thought it would end up like this. I didn’t put much thought into it.”
“Bake him a cake, um, have me bake him a cake. You frost it and write your message on top, and I’ll put in the laxatives. Or you can write him a letter. Spray paint it on his house. Attach the message to some pictures of you and Heph in bed. You can rub salt in his wounds now. It’s okay.”
“I’m not doing that.” Tegan stamped her foot, hoisted up in a sturdy heel, on the hard ground. “I don’t want to be like you guys. I want to be good.”
“Goodness, even your grandpa had more of a spine than you,” Annette replied. “Okay, how about I talk to you about grandpa Franco? He made a mistake and went past the metaphorical altar with it, even if he fixed it later. I can pull out a ton of speeches of who not to be, because you’re turning into them faster than I’d like.”
Tegan, like she always did when faced with that stress, hung down her head and almost cried. “I really don’t have it in me. He’s a human too.”
“Barely,” Annette muttered. “Listen, Tegan, maybe you do need some time. Think it over, but don’t think that I won’t nag you until I see you be a little studier than a limp noodle. He ain’t worth it, but Hephaestus is. Good choice, by the way.”
“Before we leave, gram?” Tegan asked.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t tell my mum about it, did you?”
“No, because I have a vested interest in staying alive. She’ll find out on her own.”
They shared a smile, for the first time in a long time.
“Hey, I’m willing to spend a night with you, gram,” Tegan said.
“Wonderful!” Annette’s phone then buzzed. She grumbled the text message out loud. “Emergency…new busboy ate an entire bag of onions. Good god,
how?!”
“Take care of that,” said Tegan.
“Will do.”
With Annette gone to replenish her onion supply and pick up a dozen tins of Altoids too, Tegan didn’t have any family member to vent to, even if Annette did her best to instill some resilience inside of her. The other elders were asleep, and Hephaestus understood the struggle, but would he really try to build her up? That wasn’t his job. He loved his spineless Tegan as much as he loved a hypothetical strong one.
She headed off to the edge of town instead, to where they buried Bronson some years back. Goodness, it had been a while, and it was unfair to say that Tegan hadn’t healed when she functioned even though she would give up the dynasty in order to give her father a hug again.
Out of anyone in the family, Tegan expected and accepted the possibility of ghosts there the most. Not even Hephaestus could boast of that, considering that he never got paid for his delusions. Whether it was dad or that Amy she heard about maybe once, Tegan needed a friendly ghost who recognized her colorful skin, and that recognized her spinelessness even more.
She trudged her way through the deep snow, and to an empty cemetery where a non-spectral breeze rustled the branches of the willow trees. The tombstones lay still in the snow.
“I just want you to be out there,” Tegan whispered into the cold, still air, hoping to rouse a tombstone. She visited Bronson’s for the first time in a while. The tulips that she and Bryant planted there lay dormant underground, waiting to sprout again, and Bronson was too. She knew the feel of ghosts well, and the whole park was both lifeless and afterlifeless.
Still, she could mourn for Bronson, even if she had no flowers for him and even if his silvery spirit didn’t come out to confront his daughter in her time of need.
She knelt down at his grave. “I wish I was like you now,” she said to the obelisk. “You had a lot of guts, daddy.” Still, a lot of silence.
“Maybe you were right about things,” she continued. “I don’t agree with everything you stood for, but you know, maybe you did know about something that was the best for me. And you’d fight if you…if you were still around.”
She crouched on the ground sobbing. Tegan, in her 30’s and otherwise past the point of not needing to sob whenever her dead father was mentioned, cried into the layers of snow and half-buried herself in the thick covering of white powder.
“You could fight. All I can do now is hide.”
The rest of the night was a haze, but it ended with Tegan falling asleep in the snow and not dying because of the thick fur lining of her coat. Still, she was cold, and yearned for a hot drink and a day in front of the fireplace to thaw herself out. She bent each freezing, stiff joint, realizing that the trek back home was long and still cold, unless she could hail a taxi.
She made sense of what woke her up. A savior with a warm body played the piano, as her alarm clock.
That same warm body came to greet her, and it was just the warm body she needed: alive and wrapped in lilac.
“Strange place to find you,” Hephaestus said. “I got worried last night and guessed correctly.”
“Have you been here all night?” Tegan asked.
“All night. I fell asleep too, but for a creaky old man, I’m feeling pretty good.”
“Were you…watching me?”
“Only out of concern! You were crouched down crying at Bronson’s grave, of course I was concerned.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m glad you’re here now.” She rested against his torso and nuzzled his chest. Soon, Heph would be all hers, without even the possibility of Bryant peering over in her direction. Granted, she wished the best for him.
“I heard what you said, and it’s okay to hide,” Hephaestus said. “Your dad and I disagreed on a lot, but I wish he was there to help you.”
“Did you see anything?” Tegan asked.
“I wish that too. God, the world has been so quiet lately. But I like it, sort of.”
“I think I’ll just go home now,” Tegan said. “People like to watch over here.”
“That they do.” Hephaestus let her go, confident that she could get home. “I’ll call the taxi, though.”
On a dark Twinbrook morning, the next morning, Lily sat by the large window and waited, watching yet another snowstorm that dragged on into the morning hours. It helped keep her anger in check.
“How are you doing, flower?” Annette asked Lily, as she sat down to some coffee that morning.
“I’m doing. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re dressed at 7AM. And I heard that you got into a scuffle with Chris a few days ago.”
“Yeah, but apparently I have to forgive him because he’s the country sheriff and I’m just a rich immortal. So I’m trying to let it slide, or I can put on a good face until he croaks. The guy’s getting older.”
“That’s the spirit, eh?”
“He’s coming over today. We can patch some things up in private. Put on some more coffee before he gets here.”
Chris came over on time, dressed in eye-searing hot pink, as usual. He took a deep whiff of the burning, percolated coffee and sighed. “You sure know how to treat an enemy,” he said to Lily.
“I’m just the daughter of a policewoman, not one of you,” she replied. “Punishments are your thing.”
“That they are. Should we say that we’re both sorry?”
“Sure. I’m sorry. Now I want an apology for the red mark I had on my cheek the next day. Not that anyone could notice, though.”
Before Chris was able to respond, Piper crawled next to him, enthralled by someone wearing as much (or more) bright pink as she was. She looked up to him with those big, black eyes.
“Oh my god, it’s a tiny Lilith!” He squealed with delight as he picked up the squirming nooboo. “You never told me about her.”
“She’s Heph’s creation. But I like her. A tiny Lilith indeed.”
“Still crawling, though? I think she can use a lesson. Come on, sweetie!” He set Piper down on the floor and tried to set her upright on her feet. “Let’s make you a biped.”
She learned quickly, toddling towards Chris as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her. Lily thought it was too cute.
“You’re forgiven, Chris.”
After Piper was more confident with walking, Chris spoke with Lily again, which is what he came over for, after all.
“Now, will you take up my suggestion about sending Tegan to uni?” Chris asked. “She can blow up anything that’s hers to her heart’s content without worrying about noise violations, and she’ll get a fine education out of it. I’m certain you guys can afford it.”
“We can. It’s up to her,” Lily said. “I won’t drop hints or anything. I loved uni, but I know very well that Tegan and I are different. And I love her for it.”
“Suit yourself. Can I say good-bye to Piper? She’s just the most darling thing.”
That night, Tegan sent a burn victim back to a more peaceful afterlife, after convincing her that the fire that killed her and her family was not her fault. She shook the spectre’s hand—the first time she ever did—and it felt semi-solid in her grasp. But even if it passed through her hand like air, she still would have gotten the hefty commission pay from her boss.
With a successful night behind her, Tegan set off to Elkhorn Fishing Hole. She still owned the place, even if she learned her lesson about noise. What was left was to clean up and make sure that no one was dumping cans into the pond.
Even with a few soda bottles hidden in the cattails, Tegan’s attention was quickly diverted to the cabin that wasn’t there before. She had no use for one, and while the pond was still good for public use in her eyes, there was no way that someone could build a cabin without her noticing.
It had a sliding door. She slid it open, to a bedroom decorated in her favorite colors. Blue carpets, white walls, and sparse furniture in both of those colors. Among them was a record player, and a few vinyl records stored under a lavish double-bed. Tegan dug one out, deciding that some tunes was what she needed in order to decompress after work.
The place was built for her. She had a right to it.
And it was the perfect place to smustle in peace.
The door slid open again, which wasn’t enough to distract Tegan from her moves until she caught sight of Hephaestus coming in through the blinded that shielded the glass door. The subtle lilac accents in the room made a lot of sense after that. He just got off work too, dressed in sweaty-smelling overalls for a job wiring stage lights.
“Glad you found it, peapod,” he said. Tegan turned off the music.
“It’s a nice place. Thanks, love.”
He smoothed out the sheets and climbed in bed, still in those overalls. “Well, you needed a place to hide. It might not be the best, but it works if you want to stay in Twinbrook. So why don’t we test this out?”
At this hour? I haven’t even washed all the ectoplasm off me.”
“Right at this hour,” he said.
They both undressed and Tegan climbed onto the other side of the bed. “It’s always the right hour with you. What was I thinking?”
“Alright! I’ve been waiting for too long,” Hephaestus said. “For anyone. And for you. Especially for you.”
All Tegan could do was nod. Her hands shook, though the rest of her felt like jelly in his arms, as it should be. Revenge was never on Tegan’s mind, but her respect for Bryant dwindled and she felt it, feeling it even more upon seeing her lilac prince in his underwear, which was a rare and enjoyable occasion.
And so was the morning of Tegan’s first woohoo, and how the good princess became a justified cheater.
They emerged from under the covers, eventually. No one in Twinbrook knew that they were under there, which made Hephaestus’ idea of a cabin a success. However, some people lived in the swamps. Stupid people, but people and people with functioning senses nonetheless.
“You sure we’re safe?” Tegan asked.
“For now. I mean, we can talk this over. Put another record on,” he said.
Hephaestus ended up getting a lot of used jazz records, though few enough to slide under the bed with ease. Tegan picked out the first one on top, admittedly not too versed in the world of jazz. Thankfully, she picked out something smooth. Hephaestus wasn’t in the mood for anything more than a slow dance, and the more Tegan thought about it, she wasn’t either.
So she was taken into his arms again, but for a dance. She trembled upon feeling his hand on her lower back. This could be her life, as long as she broke up with Bryant. And the words to make him leave had yet to land on her tongue.
Of course, it was worth the struggle of finding words to one day have a life pressed up against her Hephaestus, like she was morning. Neither of them were dancers, but moving in motion with him was all Tegan needed.
“Any ideas?” Hephaestus asked. “About getting rid of that toad.”
“It’s hard for me to think of them,” she said. “And it’s been on my mind for days. I want to take this delicately, you know?”
He spun her around so that they faced each other again, and leaned over to say something in her ear. “I had an idea, though. We can go to university. We’ll be miles and miles away from him, and you’ll have semesters to think about what to say.”
“The boss has been pushing it for all of us,” Tegan said. “Most of the other Profiteers are studying from home, and I’ve considered it, but really? The two of us together, far off in New Simland?”
“Us making out under the golden autumn leaves there? I’m all for it.”
“You got yourself a deal, mister,” Tegan said, tightening her embrace. “God, I can hardly wait.”
She wrote two letters: one to the university to get into their Science and Medicine department, and another to Bryant. Only the latter is worth replicating.
Dear Bryant, my fiancée. The man who plans to marry me.
Don’t think of this as a breakup. I’m just leaving for a bit to study. I know that you’ve been studying at home for something…was it web design? You’ve never elaborated. However, I need to get out of Twinbrook for once and see the world.
But I can assure you, that I’m going only to study. I don’t want to hook up with any college boys. There’s only one guy on my heart anyways.That lie killed her inside, but she licked the envelope and sent it to 19 Poker Flats Drive before her flight left.
All alone, Annette had the time to soak in hot water and relax without a young immortal to control or worry about.
Unfortunately, Tegan wasn’t the only thing for Annette to mull over as her skin pruned up.
Word Count for this chapter:
3,014Word Count so far:
173,947
