Chapter 11 #2
I nodded again.
She led me through the house to a workroom that had stacks of fabric and leather, three sewing machines, including one contraption I’d expect to see in a factory, and racks upon racks of clothes.
Not just any clothes, biker clothes. Male and female styles, mostly in black leather, and at least two more racks of outfits you’d see at Fantasy conventions, or Renaissance fairs. “ You made all of this?”
“ Sure did.”
Wow . I might have stepped through an enchanted gate. And this woman who, despite the tattoos and heavy makeup, was my fairy godmother in black leather.
“ When you’re not dressing like a Mormon hobo, what do you like to wear?”
I looked down, embarrassed. She’d pegged the style. “ Goth or dark fairy-core but it’s been a while.” There was no need to dress up when you wore a lab coat for work. And since coming back to help Beth , I hadn’t had time to find a scene, let alone been free enough to go.
Her eyes lit up. “ Screw seven hundred, let’s try for seven thousand.” Under her breath she muttered, “ Stupid Bear .”
The first thing she held out was a leather trench coat. It was best described as, what if the Old West met Lord of the Rings Mordor -style . I loved it.
I had to take off three layers before I could try it on. As I took off the last shirt, I forgot I was only wearing a white T -shirt underneath. Betty Jo caught my arm and stared at the bruise.
“ Tell me Bear didn’t do that.”
“ He didn’t.”
She stared at it for too long. “ That was from a cane or something thicker. Which idiot do I have to kill?”
These bikers and their threats. “ No one.”
“ Don’t .”
“ Don’t what?” I asked.
“ Don’t lie to me.” She took the coat out of my hands.
“ I’m not lying, you don’t need to kill anyone.”
Her eyes went a little scary-dead as she studied me. “ I’ll let you in on a little not-secret. My ex-husband, may he rot in Hell forever, used to beat my ass. I know that mark because I had one or two myself. Sometimes on my bare butt. Who did this?”
I swallowed. What could I say that would get her off this subject? I had a feeling if I lied, or tried to misdirect her, she’d send me home naked. And while that wasn’t the absolute worst thing that ever happened to me, it would be terrible enough that I hesitated.
“ Well ?”
“ In a month, maybe two, it will be resolved.”
She glanced out the window. Through it, I could see the barn. “ He ain’t roping my husband into anything, is he?”
That I could answer honestly, “ No . I hope not.”
“ He better not be.” She quickly changed the subject, handing me the coat back, but first adding a long-sleeved turtle-neck in a soft grey-black.
The yarn was softer than cashmere, and loosely woven. The neckline wasn’t strangling tight, either. I slipped it on and marveled at how good it felt. “ This is amazing.”
“ That’s hand wash only. Cold water. Lay flat to dry.”
I could see why. “ What’s it made from?”
“ Mulberry silk and alpaca. Got a friend in the yarn business who trades me supplies sometimes.” She pulled out a damask dress. It had a lace-up bodice that squashed my tits higher when I tried it on.
“ I had one like this.” But not nearly as nice. “ Store bought, of course.” I swished the skirt so it would flow outward. My old one didn’t flare like this one did. I felt like an evil queen in it. “ This is beautiful.”
“ Try on this, too.” She handed me a combination of tight black leather pants and a push up top.
“ That’s not my style.”
“ No , but it’s Bear’s . I want to see his eyes bug out of his head, just toss it on.”
“ Toss ? I might need a shoe horn.” I laughed, feeling much freer than I had in ages. On the heels of that, I wished Beth was here to make fun of my choices. An outfit in every color, as long as it’s black. She’d quip.
“ Try it.”
I tugged on the pants and stuffed my boobs into the top. Betty Jo helped lace up the back. “ How am I going to get out of this? I can’t breathe.”
“ Stop bitching. Do you always wear your hair like that?” She tugged on the clamp that I’d pinned my braids with and the loops fell free.
“ Holy shit. How long is your hair?”
The braids fell well below my ass. “ Mid -calf.”
“ You ever think about getting it cut?”
Never . But that was a lie. I thought about it almost every day I had to go through the ritual of detangling it, trimming the damaged ends, and braiding it again.
The only times I let it flow loose were when I was working magic or getting it dry after a washing.
Both were sacred times for me. “ I’ve had it cut. ”
Not voluntarily.
“ Well , if you ever wanna donate to cancer victims, that’d probably make three wigs.”
I stared at her in shock.
“ What ?”
“ Nothing .” Did she know about Beth ?
Betty Jo frowned. “ It ain’t nothing, and I can see that. But maybe I could have been a little more tactful with my words. Fin lost his best friend to cancer. I was there at the end. It’s tough business.”
I nodded. It certainly was.
“ Who ?”
“ Beth , my best friend.”
She made a sympathetic sound and hugged me.
I stiffly hugged her back. It had been so long since anyone, even Beth , had hugged me this well, I almost cried. As it was, I had to clear my throat twice to speak. “ Thank you.”
“ What kind if you don’t mind me asking?”
“ Non - Hodgkins lymphoma.”
Betty Jo thought for a moment. “ That one has a good recovery rate if you can find a donor.”
“ She did.”
I didn’t know this woman at all, but maybe a perfect stranger would be the right person to tell. I turned my arm and showed her the bruise again. “ Him .”
“ Oh . That’s why he ain’t dead yet.” Betty Jo dusted off her hands and gave me the coat she’d taken from me. “ Put that on, and keep your braids down, I wanna see.”
I did, moving my hair outside of the collar and letting it fall with three braids to the back and two snaking down the front. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror.
And liked what I saw. This woman had power. The person I wanted to be stared back at me. I lifted my chin slightly to let its sharp angle jut out. I felt like I’d just conquered a kingdom.
“ You need jewelry. What’s your flavor of Goth , pentagrams or crosses?”
Neither . “ Do you have any moons?”
She smiled. “ I got a few. Diana or Hecate ?”
“ I’m not picky. The power predates the names.”
She stared at me oddly. “ You should meet Sierra . You two might have something in common.”
“ Who is Sierra ?”
“ She’s one of the wives here. Her grandmother sees the future. I think Sierra inherited some of that woo-woo.” With a quick change of the subject, she asked, “ How’d you meet Bear ?”
Funny how she’d picked up on that. I decided to test my theory. “ He saw me casting a spell. Naked .”
Betty Jo laughed. Her whole body shook. “ Oh boy, that’d do it. I only had to flash my ass at Fin .” She wiped her eyes and said, “ Welcome to the fucked-up family.”