"What time is it?" Melanie asked loudly, brightly, as all the kids threw their hands up in the air and shouted back, "Storytme!" After which she applauded them, all laughing together.
This had been what Melanie had been doing for the past few months. She'd been going to the local library and, in full princess garb, been reading to little kids during the afternoons. In some small ways, she felt like she was emulating her father, but in a healthier sense, perhaps. And the kids seemed to love it. They loved the stories, sure, but they especially loved her. Melanie had a warmth to her that none of the other storytellers who volunteered seemed to have, and they were drawn to her as a result. A lot of the girls, and some boys too, loved her costume and constantly asked her questions about being a princess, which she happily humored them by answering. On this particular afternoon, Emma was standing with Bea in the fiction section nearby, each one searching the shelves - albeit halfheartedly - as they waited for Melanie to be done with her gig for the day. Gus was at an AA meeting, while Darren was at the mechanic shop, so it was, in essence, a girls day out, and they appreciated it. "Feels like we don't spend much time together," Bea said, sipping her tea as she pulled another book from the shelf with her fingertips before sliding it back in line. "We really don't, and you'd think we would," Emma said, pulling a book from the shelf and looking at the back, adding, "I mean, girls are supposed to have other girls for friends, right? Yet we all kinda spend most of our time with guys. That's weird, right?" "Super weird," Bea said, "and it's not like the guys we even know are all that cool." Emma laughed and nodded, now leafing through the pages of the book while Bea sighed and leaned against the shelf, glancing around the corner at Melanie, who was telling this particular story very animatedly. "You think this is good for her?" Bea asked quietly, causing Emma to look up. "Yeah, yes, I do. She's playing pretend, before she wasn't, that's the key difference," Emma said, "I think creating this persona as a fictional thing is the best thing she could've done to separate fantasy from reality. You know, a lot of kids who go through serious trauma wind up creating a sort of fantasy for themselves to protect their brains from said trauma. It's not unusual. It IS unusual to take it to the extremes she took it, perhaps, but clearly severe mental illness runs in her family, so." Bea nodded, taking another long sip through her straw and sighing. "Well, I'm just happy she's doing something good, and not just for her sake but look at those kids, they love her," Bea said. "She had this same situation when she helped me at the school. Kids just love Mel for some reason," Emma said, the two of them now coming around the corner of the shelf, watching Melanie read to the children; Emma continued, "she has this youthful playfulness that I think attracts them to her, and makes them feel safe and comfortable. It's a great thing to see." Bea nodded, thinking about herself and Gus. Were children in their future? Hell, was there a future in their future? She and Gus had always had a very fly by night relationship. Sure they cared about one another, but...but in the end...they never made any kind of plans. Part of that was on Gus, she thought. After what had happened with his ex-wife, he was likely scared to commit to something that could so easily be broken, and she understood this. Having grown up in a broken home herself, Bea totally got why he might be hesitant to make any sort of attachment to a future of some sort, especially with another person. But...but watching Emma prepare for her wedding and watching Mel be good with kids, it made her feel like the odd one out. She hated being the odd one out. That's why she liked being the Black Knight, because everyone feared and respected her. She liked that level of control, which she didn't seem to have anywhere else in her life. *** Becca wiped her eyes and tried to stifle her tears anymore, her lip quivering from the feelings. She looked around the room, then finally her eyes landed on her therapist once more, and she smiled weakly. Her therapist didn't prod, didn't push, she just sat there and waited for Becca to speak again. After a few minutes, Becca finally felt like she could once more talk. "It's been months, but...god...it's hard for me to imagine he's gone even still," she said softly, looking down at her feet, "I just...I keep expecting him to walk through the door, you know? To just...show up, like he used to do. It's a little impossible for me to conceptualize the emptiness his lack of presence creates in our home." "And how is Angie holding up?" her therapist, Amanda, asked, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs. "She's...she's not really talking much," Becca said, shrugging, "I don't know." "It's completely understandable - normal, even expected - for you to be unable to grapple with this loss, especially in the first year. And especially in the first few months. Just like it's completely understandable for Angie to withdraw. She's young, she lost her father. Sure, he might not have always been there, but she knew him, and she loved him, and that kind of grief, it can be insurmountable for a child. Just give her time, let her come to you." "That's what I'm doing," Becca said, leaning over and grabbing more tissues from the box on the side table by the couch before adding, "but it's hard, it hurts to watch your child hurting and not being able to do more to take that pain away, you know? I know he had a sister...I've debated going to find her, if only to give Angie a connection to someone related to her father, but, ugh..." "What?" Amanda asked. "I don't know, I know his family was really messed up, and the few things he told me about his sister...she was apparently very unstable, so while I want to give Angie that comfort, I also don't want to surround her with something that isn't healthy. It's all so complicated," Becca said, wiping at her eyes again, tears rolling down her cheeks. After a few minutes she sighed and shook her head, looking towards the window, listening to the gentle rain landing on the glass panes and said quietly, "...I just want him back." "I know," Amanda said softly, "I'm so sorry. What happened is...just...awful. At least with an illness you're given a warning, you know? But accidents such as what happened to Shane? Yeah, those are sudden, and shocking, and hard to recover from. But, as a professional, let me say you're doing a wonderful job keeping not just yourself but also your daughter together, and that's something you should be proud of. Lord knows he would be proud of you." Becca smiled, blushing and nodding. It's true, Shane had always reminded Rebecca of how strong she was, and she was finally starting to see it for herself. She thought back to Shane's sister again, and bit her lip. She'd never even seen a picture of her before. Still, maybe the awkwardness would be worth it, and who knows, maybe she'd gotten better since Shane had talked about her. Anything is possible, after all. Rebecca had never expected to find herself in therapy, so maybe his sister had done the same. Grief can make people do crazy things. *** Melanie was packing up her things, getting ready to leave with Emma. Bea had left a little earlier, meeting Gus at a restaurant for dinner - a dinner which Melanie was meant to join them at in a bit - but she had to do some cleanup here first, and of course check in with the librarian to log her hours. Emma, standing nearby and drinking her iced coffee, smiled as she watched Mel pack. After a few minutes, Mel looked up at Emma and smiled back, chuckling. "What?" she asked, pushing her bangs from her eyes and Emma shrugged. "Just cool, seeing you like this," Emma said, "you've come so far since we met, and it's...it's nice. It's good." "Yeah, well," Mel replied, shrugging, "a lot of that was against my will, not that I'm not thankful for it." Just then a young woman approached and tapped Melanie on the shoulder. Melanie stood back up, leaving her backpack half zipped. "Yes?" she asked. "My name is Laura Stevenson," the woman said, holding her hand out for Mel to shake, which she did; Laura continued, "um, my daughter, Katie, she loved your story today." "Well, thank you, that's very nice to know!" Melanie said, "You know, Katie is free to tell me herself, she doesn't have to be shy!" "Hah, well, Katie would like to do that, but she...she can't really communicate," Laura said, looking over her shoulder at a girl who looked to be about 11, sitting and looking at a picture book, clearly engrossed in it; Melanie joined Laura in watching this, and quickly saw something was off about the situation, only clarified seconds later as Laura continued saying, "she's mentally handicapped, she can't really speak. But she...she's capable of sort of insinuating to me when she's happy, and she was very happy with what you did today. And she loves your crown so much." "Really?" Melanie asked, pulling it off her head and admiring it in her hands, smiling, "it was given to me by my father." "I just wanted to thank you for doing what you're doing, mostly because she can't, and...and she really loves coming here and listening. You're the only storyteller she wants to see," Laura said, her voice cracking, and Melanie suddenly had a nervous feeling gnawing at her stomach. After another moment, Laura said her goodbye, took Katie to check out some picturebooks and then exited the library, leaving Mel and Emma there, somewhat bewildered. "That was...weird, right?" Melanie asked. "Very weird," Emma said, "but see, what you're doing is good, you're making a difference." "Yeah, I...I guess," Mel said as she knelt down and finished zipping her backpack. She had packed a change of clothes in her backpack, and would change in the car on the way to the restaurant. Emma was dropping her off before heading home herself, after all. But for the rest of the early evening, whether in the car getting changed or finally at dinner with Gus and Bea, Melanie couldn't shake this uneasy feeling Laura had left her with. Maybe some dinner would help. *** "That's SO strange," Bea said, biting into a pork bun and then continuing to speak while chewing, "like...on one hand it's nice to be told that what you're doing is appreciated, but god, that had to feel awkward." "She just seemed so anxious," Mel said, stabbing some pepper chicken with her fork and eating a few pieces before continuing, "like she was scared of approaching me or something, or didn't know what she was saying. I don't know, the whole vibe was off." "Maybe she likes you and she's just using her daughter as an excuse to talk to you," Gus said, making Bea and Mel glare at him; he just shrugged and said, "look, I'm just trying to offer an explanation! I didn't say it was true, I'm just, you know what, I'll shut up." "Good," they replied in unison. Bea picked up her soda and took a long drink, smacking her lips before putting her chopsticks down on the plate in front of her and exhaled. "So...so she has a mentally handicapped daughter who can't speak, but somehow her mother knows she prefers you as the storyteller at the library compared to all the others? I mean, parents - especially parents of children with intellectual disabilities and I know this because I see a lot of them at the faire - have to learn how to interact with their child on a level that makes sense to the child. Ask Emma, she'll tell you the same thing, she's a teacher after all. Like, okay, so she's capable of knowing how she feels, and she just wanted to share that good word with you, make you feel good about what it is you do, you know? It's weird, but I don't think there's any strange intention behind it. Certainly not a romantic one," she finished, looking at Gus who shrugged again. "I'm sorry! God, I'll just keep my obviously correct opinions to myself from now on," he said, making Bea laugh as she reached over and rubbed his back. Melanie pulled her legs up into the booth and sat cross legged, picking up an egg roll and biting into it, chewing for a few minutes before swallowing and sighing. "If she comes by again next week, I'm going to talk to her again," Melanie said, "I don't know why, but...I feel like she talked to me more for her own sake than her daughters. Though, I agree, not because of why Gus thinks. But she obviously needed to talk to me." "You know," Gus said, leaning back in the booth, "It was just an idea, you don't have to make fun of me for it." "Yes we do, sweetheart," Bea said, rubbing his arm, "it's the law." *** That evening, Rebecca made dinner and went to go get Angie from her bedroom. As she approached the bedroom door in the hall, she could hear Angie talking to herself, and she stopped outside the door, just listening, enjoying hearing Angie playing again. She waited a few minutes, then finally opened the door, only to find Angie sitting on her bed, her stuffed animals sitting in front of her on the floor. Angie was dressed in a sparkly dress they'd bought her for a daddy daughter she'd been in a few years before, and had glitter in her hair. "Sweetheart, what did you do to your hair??" Rebecca asked, entering the room, "You're going to have to take a bath now and I'm going to have to make sure to get all this out before school tomorrow." "A princess is supposed to be pretty!" Angie said, "I don't have a crown, so I had to do something." "Well," Rebecca said, sitting on the bed beside Angie and rubbing the back of her neck, laughing silently at all the glitter on her, "dinner is ready, and a princess also needs a good meal if she's going to be a good ruler. Can't think clearly on an empty stomach!" Angie nodded, kicking her legs before finally speaking, her voice barely audible. "I want him to come home," she said, and Rebecca felt her heart break a little. "I know princess, I do too," she replied quietly, pressing her lips to her daughters glitter covered head, "I do too." It wasn't like Angie didn't understand. If nothing else, she understood all too well. Her father was dead, he'd been involved in an accident, but he'd died a hero, saving someone. But that didn't make it any easier for her to swallow. She missed him so very much, and she didn't know how to move past that. She was grateful to have her mom, but now she was the only one in her class who didn't have both parents, and this made her somewhat of an oddity around her peers. Sometimes they asked her questions about him, specifically about how he'd died, but she hated answering them, and eventually she stopped responding to their inquiries altogether. "Come on," Becca said, patting Angies shoulder, "let's have some dinner." Angie nodded, climbing off the bed and following her mom out of the room and to the kitchen. As they seated themselves at the table - after Becca had already plated everything - they both couldn't help but notice that Shane's chair was empty. And it'd been empty before. In fact, it'd been empty a good portion of Angie's life. But the difference was that before, there was the chance it wouldn't be sometime soon. Now it'd always be empty. Angie put her fork down, then started sobbing, and Becca got up and pulled her chair to her daughters side, hugging her and petting her hair, just letting her cry. Before, there was Shane. Before, there was daddy. Now... ...now there was just a chair.
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Royally Screwed follows 24 year old Melanie Irres, an average young woman...who legitimately believes she's a princess. Archives
July 2023
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