Chapter 3 #2
“And you’ve all—you’ve all gone viral?”
“Even me,” Aunt Pip says, pointing to her scarred breast again. “For a hot minute there, I had the nip everyone was talking about.”
“Did you get breakfast?” Mabel asks her.
Aunt Pip gives her a don’t be stupid look. “No, I didn’t get breastfed. That’s probably what’s wrong with me.”
“Breakfast, Aunt Pip. Cinnamon rolls? Coffee?”
“Oh! No, I was about to offer to wrestle Cricket for the last roll.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say quickly.
Mabel studies me like she wants to tell me it takes a lot of energy to handle the hate mail and the death threats and the snarky comments that come in when you’re the world’s current most-despised internet sensation.
But all she says is, “You know where the kitchen is now whenever you want food. We keep the fridge and cabinets pretty well stocked.”
“I—how do I—I didn’t ask how much it costs—”
“Who’s the boss? Well, no one, except Mabel’s the boss,” Aunt Pip says.
“How much it costs, Aunt Pip,” Mabel corrects. She looks at me again. “And it’s nothing. When you’re up for it, pitch in with chores, but everyone here knows the mental and emotional toll that you’ve been through.”
“You—for real?”
Her face relaxes into a soft smile. “For real. The pictures in the hall? Those are all women who’ve stayed here when they went viral, lost jobs, lost family and friends, lost relationships… We’re here to be whatever you need while you’re in turmoil.”
My eyes start leaking again. “That’s just so nice of you.”
“We’ve all been there.”
“You fought a bear?” Aunt Pip says. “When? You didn’t tell me about that.”
“We’ve all been there.” Mabel’s lips quirk affectionately as she shakes her head at Aunt Pip.
She looks back at me. “If you stay long-term, we’ll talk about more permanent options for pitching in, but if all you need is some time to get your bearings back and let the world’s attention fade, then do whatever you need to do to work through it all. ”
I’m on the verge of crying again, but I’m so tired of crying that I force myself to do something normal and ask a question. “Is it okay if I ask how you went viral?”
“I was dating a pro wrestling mega-fan who asked me to do social media with him. We had a team show—Vibe Check and the Yeet Beast. His suggestion on all of the names. Our costumes too. But when I got more popular than he was, he dumped me, started talking shit about me, then he doxxed me, and—”
“And I burned my nipple off, so the family decided I shouldn’t live alone anymore and they sent me a keeper,” Aunt Pip interjects.
Mabel nods. “So I came here to hide and help Aunt Pip, and then an old friend from college went viral too, so we invited her to stay for a while, and then she knew someone who went viral—that’s Ginny—so I offered her a place to lie low too.
My college friend left, Ginny stayed, and everything eventually evolved into the commune-ish thing we have now. ”
The back door bangs open, and the man who startled me in the bathroom—Heath—walks in like he, too, has been told to come and go as needed anywhere on the property.
He probably has.
“It’s the man of the hour,” Aunt Pip says.
He freezes and gives the three of us a once-over, completely poker-faced. One of his deep-set green eyes is bloodshot in a way that suggests I hit him as hard as the bruise developing on my knuckles suggests I did.
His shaggy brown hair seems to need a cut, his square jaw’s coated with a week’s worth of stubble, and the crooked quality to his nose suggests I’m not the first person to have knocked him in the face.
A few months ago, I did a lifestyle segment on boxing as the new fitness craze and nearly got my own nose broken in the ring. That’s where I learned to punch.
I wonder if he boxes too.
If he got hit during his EMT days.
Or if he has some kind of dark history beyond losing his wife so young.
But if he has a dark history, it’s taught him kindness and compassion.
That’s what struck me most, in the worst kind of way, about him in the bathroom.
His kindness and compassion.
He covered me with a robe.
Didn’t raise his voice with me.
Didn’t sigh.
Didn’t complain about me punching him beyond the initial surprised dammit.
I got the feeling he wanted to, but he didn’t. He just helped me.
And just like they did in the bathroom as he was asking about my injuries, my nipples are puckering and my tingles are tingling in a place I’ve vowed to never get a tingle again.
Both because I can’t see any man ever wanting me after my recent notoriety, and also because taking care of the tingles myself means getting naked.
At least from the waist down.
Which I am not doing ever ever ever again.
“How’s your pussy?” Aunt Pip asks him.
“Loud,” he answers, then he turns to the freezer, grabs an ice pack, and leaves again after nodding to Mabel and me.
“He has a cat,” Mabel murmurs to me.
“I didn’t mean to punch him,” I say again.
“I can’t say I’m glad you did it, but I am glad to know you have some self-defense skills,” Mabel replies.
“If you want to practice, Samantha’s wife, Olivia, is a tae kwon do instructor.
Some of our guests find that it helps with confidence to brush up on sparring skills.
Or for good technique if you hit a point where you need to whale on a punching bag to work out anything. ”
And here I go again, getting wet in the eyeballs.
“Want a tour?” Mabel nods to the table and the glass baking dish still half-full of cinnamon rolls. “Grab a treat. I’ll make coffee and show you around.”
I barely know Ginny. I don’t know Mabel or Aunt Pip at all.
But I suddenly want to stay here forever.
Clearly, I can’t. I have my life to get back to when I’m ready. In a week or so.
Maybe a month.
But for today—for today, even with the shower incident, I want to stay forever.