Page 73 of Henhouse
Effie, the quiet one, the one used to waiting her turn, the least squeaky wheel of all finally snapped. “You happened!”
Pamela blanched, as shocked by Effie’s tone as everyone else in the kitchen. The subtle clatter of Hazel’s toy on her tray was the only indication that Effie still stood in her family home and not in the eyeof a storm buzzing with pent-up electricity.
“You are petty and jealous and never look in a fucking mirror except to keep tabs on the wrinkles you insist on Botoxing away. Did it ever occur to you that you were the problem? For years I have wanted to avoid ending up like you, bitter about men and alone. But apparently, I’m an overachiever because I swung too far the other way. I can’t begin to fathom why anyone would want to bewith mewhen the world is full of more intelligent, more beautiful, more desirable women. In this room alone I am not the mostanything. So what happened after your supposedly benevolent little stunt? I blew up the fucking ship!”
Effie’s fingers fumbled around her apron strings, shaking with rage and shame. She couldn’t get it untied. “Effie,” her mother sighed, her own shame mingling with affection. The rest of the room went silent as if Effie unearthing her most private inner thoughts had finally left them speechless.
Effie released the knot on her apron and threw it on the ground before storming out. She slid on her Birkenstocks and made for the door. She wasn’t due at work for a couple of hours but she wasn’t about to stay here. These feelings couldn’t be corked, and she didn’t want to say anything else she couldn’t take back.
She opened the door, strode down the front steps, and collided with a wall of muscle behind a blue-collared shirt. Theo took her by the shoulders gaze dipping to meet hers. “Hey, are you alright?”
“No.” She struggled free of his grip and stomped down the sidewalk. He hustled to catch up. Effie noticed the to-go cup in his hand for the first time and was grateful he had managed to keep from scalding her with its contents.
He tried to hand it toher. “Darjeeling?”
Effie stopped on a dime, spinning to face him. Her head was swimming. Her anger, grief, and poor self-image threatened to drown her where she stood. Warning lights flashed, motorcycles crashed, good things broke and splintered making her see red. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he said so innocently that Effie’s heart broke a little more. Every feeling compelled her to sink into him, take the tea, walk together, and forget she ever freaked out. But her thoughts were screaming at her to stay safe, to walk away, to see logic and know that she was not enough of a woman for the man before her. “Why? We broke up,” she snipped.
It was definitely news to him.
“That was a breakup?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think it counts if only half of us knew it was a breakup,” Theo teased, in a desperate attempt to hold on to her beneath a cool and collected exterior. It was also an offering, to forget the whole thing, take it back.
Effie’s heart begged her to take it. But her head had always been louder. “Then I’ll say it plainly now. I’m breaking up with you.”
She turned before he could stop her, before she could see how her words had landed. For her, it was an icy crack of peppermint coated in acrid smoke. She knew where the smoke came from.
It was how it tasted to burn everything you’d ever wanted to the ground.
Theo hadn’t had a day this horrible in a long time, and it wasn’t even noon yet. He left Effie’s house with a storm cloud over his head,his feet acting of their own will to vacate the Thatcher home before anyone else came rushing out to stomp on his heart that surely landed amidst the violets lining the walkway when Effie ripped it out.
He had thought Effie’s outburst odd after dinner with her family, but he assumed she was merely riled, not ready to give up on them.Maybe he shouldn’t have given her so much space to calm down?
As he drove between appointments he replayed their night, the next morning, and the brief encounter that ended in an official breakup. He tumbled each word, each look around inspecting them for any sign that she truly didn’t want to be with him. He kept coming up empty-handed, but it didn’t change the outcome.I’m breaking up with you.
Theo admired the clarity, the succinctness of it. He’d broken up with many women and always tried to convey the underlying feeling or lack thereof responsible for the ending. Questions and curiosities made it hard to move on, and right now he had so many questions. Chief among them,how could he fix it?
35
Effie sat at the small vanity in the corner of her room where the most natural light came in. Curlers wound atop her head, and she donned a floor-length silk robe. Chatter from downstairs worked its way under her closed door, the clink of glassware being unloaded and the hum of strings being tuned a reminder that the ball was fast approaching.
The trouble was, Effie didn’t feel much like dancing. Or socializing. The only thing about the evening she looked forward to at this point was the gown Dorothea had helped her make months ago when Louisa had first decided onenchanted gardenas the theme for this year’s ball. It suited Effie wonderfully, unlike last year’s masquerade or the starry night theme of the year before. This year was florals and frills and pastels, something that they’d easily reflected in the soft ballgown.
It had a corseted bodice, the boning visible beneath the sheer fabric that laid over the blush-pink satin underneath. The appliquéd organza gathered into a sweetheart neckline with two puffed, off-the-shouldersleeves that drooped elegantly down her arms. From the fitted waist, layers of cream and blush organza created an opaque full skirt that swished when Effie walked. She favored the top layer of off-white fabric, the one with intricate appliqués of mauve and pink peonies, a mix of green and white leaves giving the folds of the dress texture and depth. She’d startled Basil with a squeal when she unpacked the fabric from a new order at the store months ago.
The dress hung, steamed and ready to wear, on the outside of her closet door. She’d never pinned any hopes on that dress, never imagined this night to be anything more than another marker of time passing. But somehow looking at it now, Effie was keenly aware that this nightcouldhave been something, but she’d failed again to take the advice her father whispered to her all those years ago.If you don’t ask the question, the answer is always no.
Brayden had never worn a cummerbund in his life, but he didn’t hate it. Especially not when Hope lit up at seeing him in it. She had spent the night with him, and waking with her beside him was pure bliss. They still had some of the house to furnish, the living room they were currently standing in, Hope adjusting the cornflower-blue bow tie around his neck, was barren but for a giant mirror leaned against the wall leftover from some previous owner. Somehow though, with her here in a breezy blue dress that matched him, tiny yellow flowers stitched all over, the drape perfect over her pregnant belly, the house had never felt more full.
Brayden looked forward to the night of levity and fun ahead of them since the last few days had been a whirlwind. They’d set a datefor Hope to move in, hired movers, and shopped for hours for furniture and trimmings for the house that were still weeks out from delivery. They’d also told everyone about their plans, and to his surprise it had gone alright. Though he would admit that the conversation with his mothers about his reconciliation with Hope was less than ideal. They had been the ones to convince him that he needed to tread lightly moving forward for the sake of being a good dad. Their opinion of Hope had declined rapidly as light was shone on her secrets and willingness to believe the worst about him.
But after a couple of hours, too many of Ma’s oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to count, and a promise to institute consistent visits with their grandbaby, things had smoothed over. Hope braved the scene toward the end of their talk, bringing with her every ultrasound photo and the exact right words to let his parents know that he meant the world to her. The latter could have been a result of the way she dropped the curtain to reveal the depth of her feelings for him. Whatever the case, they all left the exchange with a contentment where anxiety used to live.
Hope finished with his tie and laid her hands on his chest. “You are one handsome fella.”
