Pandora
“Is that all the stuff you’re bringing?” I ask, staring at Samantha’s tiny duffel bag.
She straightens her shoulders. “You’re not bringing any more than I am!”
“Yeah, but it’s my home. I’ve got a full wardrobe in my closet.” I grin at Samantha and step closer. “Unless you want to borrow some of my stuff. I bet you’d look great in my hot pink tights.”
Samantha grimaces. “I’m not borrowing any of your stuff,” she says. “But we’re only going to be in New Bristol for a few days. I don’t need to bring everything I own.”
“Two weeks!” I heft my own bag. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ll buy you anything you need. And the maid does laundry twice a week anyway.”
I see Samantha mouth the word maid, like she isn’t also rich. She must have had a maid at home.
I go over my mental checklist. I’ve fed Echo, I have all the gifts, I gave Blaze and Asch theirs to take with them, we said our goodbyes last night over sex and food…
I can’t think of anything else that needs to be done.
“You’ll like my family,” I tell Samantha. “They’re really chill.”
“Your family? Chill?” she repeats, not looking like she believes me at all, which is really pretty insulting. “If you say so.” She pauses, nibbling on her bottom lip, then says awkwardly, “Thanks for having me over.”
“Of course!” I shut the door on our shared dorm suite. “Mama got so sad when she heard your story. But, I should warn you, even if you think my brothers are hot, I wouldn’t go for them. Kratos is spoken for and Ares is, uh.” I tilt my head. “Volatile? Let’s go with volatile.”
“Gee, color me shocked,” Samantha says. “I’ll take care. What about your sister? Mel? What’s she like?”
“Um. Weird?” We take the stairs down, too impatient to wait for the elevator. It’s good for Samantha’s cardio, anyway. And my cardio, too. “Let’s go with ‘weird.’ She’s quiet though, so if you ignore her, she’ll ignore you right back.”
“If you’re saying she’s weird, she’s probably perfectly normal,” Samantha replies. “But I’ll leave her alone. Is your family going to get mad if I don’t engage much? I’m… not sure how ready I am to be around a bunch of men, honestly.”
That’s the most she’s said about what she’s been through.
“It’s fine. Papa, Daddy, and Uncle Slayer are usually busy with work anyway.” I don’t mention what that work is.
She doesn’t need to know that Papa runs several prominent strip clubs in New Bristol.
Or that they eradicated an entire mafia family once. That would be quite the bad look.
The drive back to New Bristol is fairly quiet. I wanted to go with River, but he’d refused on bullshit grounds. I assume they were bullshit, anyway, since he didn’t give me a real reason.
“Carly and Reaper are going home too,” I say by way of conversation. “Although Carly made it sound like she didn’t want to see her dad.”
Samantha is staring out of the window, like there’s anything interesting on the interstate on the way back from Dyschord to New Bristol. “Yeah. I’ve talked to her a few times, but we don’t really talk about our families. Especially these days.”
“That’s because everybody’s families suck!” I say it with cheer. “Except mine, of course. But I think the only way to get into Dyschord is if your parents are assholes. …Which does apply to my parents, actually.”
“That makes me feel so much better about meeting them,” Samantha retorts, but she glances at me. “Are they really as dangerous as people say they are? They have a reputation, you know.”
“They do not!” I laugh. “They used to have a reputation. Anyway, Mama is soft and gentle and cares about everybody’s feelings.”
“Someone in your family needs to be,” Samantha snipes, but then she catches herself. “Sorry. I’m still getting used to being nice to you.”
Was she being mean?
She’s never gotten close to hurting my feelings, ever. Even when he’d first met and she’d looked at me like I was more irritating than gum on her shoe.
“If nothing else, you can be sure that they won’t let anything happen to you while you’re under their roof.”
If anyone tried anything, that would be an insult of the highest order. Papa wouldn’t stand for it.
The rest of the trip is quieter. We pass the exit that would take me to the murder cabin, where Zayden’s body disintegrated into dust.
All on its own, of course. I had nothing to do with that.
Traffic picks up as we near the city, what with everybody else driving home for the holidays.
“Where are you from?” I ask Samantha. “You never said.”
“Traville,” she says. “I grew up there.”
“Traville?” I try to remember if I’ve ever been there. “I think we passed through on our way north once. But Papa complained about the bad food there, even though we didn’t even stop for food.”
“The food there isn’t bad,” Samantha says. “But there’s nothing fancy about it, with the exception of one fine dining restaurant that everyone goes to for anniversaries and birthdays. It’s nothing like what you find in NB.”
It’s one of those places that’s too far from NB to be an easy commute, but I bet some people still attempt it.
“What did you do for fun in Traville?” I groan when somebody manages to cut me off in traffic. We’re so close to being home!
“We go to church a lot,” she says, shrugging. “I do a lot with the youth group there. We take… took a lot of trips to the city for activities because there wasn’t much else to do.”
Youth groups sound like the opposite of fun, but I’m trying to be a good friend who doesn’t judge.
“I’ll take you around the city,” I say. “Treat you to some real food, too. Do you like musicals or plays? We can probably score last minute tickets. And there’s a church three blocks from my house.
They’d probably have you. It’s one of those that has a pride flag out front and says everybody is welcome. ”
Samantha eyes me askance. “I don’t think that’s my kind of place. Not that I’m some sort of bigot, but I doubt they have a real focus on—” She catches herself. “I’m doing that judging thing again. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll check it out. I’m not welcome at the church on campus anymore.”
Yeah.
I’d heard what her church friends were saying about her.
I’d also heard Samantha crying quietly in her room, and it pisses me off that her so-called ‘friends’ couldn’t show up to support her. They assumed the worst of her, and even if she doesn’t want to tell them the truth, they should be there for her anyway.
We pass the church, and I point to it. The pride flag is still there, alongside some Christmas decorations.
“We’re almost home,” I say. “Whatever happens, don’t let anyone intimidate you, okay? They’re mostly posturing. And Papa likes to joke around.”
Samantha takes a deep breath and nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She offers me a small, rueful smile. “Am I going to regret this?”
“More than staying in Harmony on your own?” I ask.
“No. You’ll be fine. They’ll be excited that I brought a friend!
And they’ll like you more than they liked Blaze, Asch, or River.
” I laugh. “You should have seen them at Thanksgiving. Each of them got a shovel talk, like anyone is going to be intimidated by that.”
“Uh huh,” Samantha says, but she doesn’t look convinced.
I wonder what she has heard about my family.
I pull into the townhouse’s garage. I’m not sure why home is “the townhouse,” like we’ve ever lived anywhere else, but Papa and Daddy always call it that and we picked up on it.
“Time to meet the fam!” I say once we’ve parked. “I bet Mama is already waiting for us.” I take Samantha’s bag as well as my own so she can’t do something stupid like decide to go find a hotel for the two weeks.
Not that she has the money for it, since her parents cut her off.
It still makes my blood boil.
Samantha follows me inside, her steps careful and wary like she’s afraid of something going wrong the second she enters the house. “And I thought my house was big,” she remarks. “You have an elevator?”
“I think it was originally meant to be multiple apartments? But it was already a single-family home when Papa grew up here.” I hit the elevator button.
The button bleeds when I push it.
Seriously?
I’m home. There’s no reason for anything to be bothering me!
She steps into the elevator with me when it opens. “I really can carry my own bag, you know,” she remarks, reaching out for it.
“Nope!” I get in and wait for her so I can hit the button to go up. This one gurgles when I do, but I ignore the sound. “Maybe we should skip straight to my bedroom and drop our stuff off.”
I take us to the first floor anyway, and I’m not surprised when Mama is waiting when the doors open again.
“Hi, Mama!” I grin widely. “It’s been so long. Three entire weeks! Hope you didn’t get used to all that peace and quiet.”
“Never,” she says with a soft, rueful smile.
She steps close so she can hug me close to her, and I can smell the floral scent of her shampoo.
“But it’s familiar chaos. I’m looking forward to having you home.
” She releases me and smiles at Samantha, too.
“It’s nice to meet you, Samantha. I’m Vanessa, Pandora’s mother. ”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Samantha says politely. “Thank you for letting me stay with you, Mrs. Pavone.”
“Of course,” Mama says. “It’s nice to meet Pandora’s friends.”
Samantha doesn’t argue that we aren’t friends, which is nice.
Instead, she offers an uncertain smile.
“Where’s Samantha staying?” I ask. “I can sleep on the floor, I guess.”
Mama shakes her head. “We prepared the bedroom next to Mel’s.”
The one next to Mel’s? I frown, because that’s Daddy’s bedroom. I know he can stay in another room in the meantime, but it feels weird to kick him out of his space for two weeks.
I’m not going to kick up a fuss in front of Samantha though.
“Okay.” I motion back to the elevator. “That’s way up on the fifth floor. Let’s get settled, then I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“Dinner will be shortly,” Mama says. “Your Papa is cooking. Damien isn’t here tonight, so Samantha’s taste buds will be safe from his contributions.”