Chapter 18 Peachy Headlines #2
Everyone looked at her. Eloise's mouth turned up on one corner.
Casper tilted his grey head, and one of the prozac dogs jumped into her lap as she made a decision.
She thought of Cora, and she thought of the signs that were beginning to pop up around town, weeds among gardens alluding to dangerous women.
It was the start of what could come. She knew that. It started benignly.
We want our town to be safe.
Everyone did. Everyone could get on board with that. It would be difficult to find anyone who would disagree and say that no, they would rather have a dangerous, violent town.
But then the message morphed. It became more pointed.
More targeted.
More personal.
It wasn't just about danger; it was about a particular group of people that they felt created that danger, that posed a threat.
And hey, they already got people on board with the original sentiment that made sense - danger is bad.
So maybe they would lose a few followers, but psychologically and historically, when the same person or group takes a well-received message and starts twisting it to fit their agenda without telling anyone along the way, well.
..then suddenly those signs aren't about dangerous towns.
They're about targeting entire groups of people.
"I'm fucking tired of being targeted. Held down.
Being told what to do, what not to do. So yeah.
Fuck them. I don't know how, and I don't know what it means or looks like, but I'm ready to fight it.
For us, for Cora, for all the women who have been branded by a name just because she couldn't be controlled. "
Bess smiled widely and raised a fist in the air. "Hell yeah!" Ursula gave her a look, and Bess shrugged. "This doesn't seem like a time to tame it down."
To which Ursula gave a look of concession and shrugged her shoulders before she raised her fist in the unnaturally cool July air and said, "Hell yeah."
More fists lifted until the trees waved over them and the stars pulsed, the fire turned pink and orange.
Bess and Eloise were drying dishes as a few others were discussing important matters with Crystal, matters of which Ursula made clear Bess not need bother herself with.
She made it clear how she felt about that to which Eloise intercepted with her strong-armed charm that ended with them eating a hidden stash of espresso brownies and now cleaning up the kitchen.
Her phone buzzed and a quick glance with a frown and then placing it face-down on the island had Eloise tilting her head in concern.
"Everything alright?"
Bess's shrug of indifference did not fool the ever-wise woman who could read people too easily. So when Eloise sat on a stool, crossed her legs pointedly and then her arms, sitting back in a ready stance, Bess sighed.
"Just someone reaching out that I'd rather not."
A flash of concern on the older woman's pretty features reminded Bess that she wasn't on unsafe ground. "Is it your mom?"
"Oh, no," she replied, shaking her head, her voice getting soft at the mention of her mom.
She didn't like to talk about her drug and alcohol-addicted mom.
She was in rehab, the round of which Bess had lost count, but she'd lost hope in her mother's recovery years ago.
And anytime she said anything of the sentiment, she found herself scolded by her uncle or Ursula.
So, she'd learned to keep her lost faith quiet. But this, this she could talk about.
"This guy at school, he's texted me a few times."
A fierce look took over the softness of Eloise's features in such a way that one would wonder if her face had ever known gentleness. And it was beautiful and rabid and honestly, Bess could see it and admire it for what it was - absolute feminine rage on her behalf.
How incredible was that?
"Is he harassing you?"
Bess laughed because if he were she knew that Eloise and the coven of women out there would take care of it. The comfort in that was one of the most alarming moments of safety she had ever felt.
"No, nothing like that. I mean, it's like a gentle thing, really."
The cutthroat edge that had taken over Eloise dropped the slightest as she released her war-ready tightness and her shoulders fell from their high-held tension.
"Ok, so you don't like this guy and he's not getting the picture?"
"Bess darling? There is someone here for you. And he is very dashing," Crystal called as she walked through the doorway that led down the hallway to the front door.
"Yeah, he's hot," Kelsea added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and Bess rolled her eyes and slid off the stool to make her way to the front door.
She peered through the moon-stained glass of the door, biting her lip when she saw a blurry picture of a dark head on a tall body standing on the front porch. When she felt something behind her she turned and gasped seeing seven women crowded there in a bundle of curiosity.
"Guys," she admonished. "What the hell?"
"Language," Ursula poked her head up over Jen's shoulder which towered in front of her.
"Can you give me some privacy?"
"Is that the guy?" Eloise whispered.
"What guy?" Ursula whisper-yelled.
"There's a guy?"
"He's hot," Kelsea said again.
"I can get a background on him," Carol offered.
"Oooh," Ursula and a few others cooed to which Bess finally cut off with a slash of her hand through the air and a stomp of her boot bringing all eyes to her.
"Enough. You," she pointed to the lot of them, "back in the kitchen. No spying. I am a whole, responsible young woman and you need to give me the respect I have earned by backing off."
Admonished, some visibly ashamed and others still carrying looks of protective wariness, they agreed and walked down the hallway to the kitchen.
"And no background check, Carol!" she called as a security measure.
"Fine!"
She smiled, shaking her head as she took a deep breath before her chipped purple-painted fingers grasped the intricate antique doorknob and turned to open the door.