Calliope
six
THE COUNT IS DEAD, was the news headline. There was also video footage of my mother's house being taped off and crowds huddling around it.
My mother stayed with us after she talked to the police about what happened. I made sure she told them what needed to be said–that The Count killed himself–and nothing more. She couldn't stop staring at the TV screen all day. I spent the day at home while Roy went to work and I tried to distract myself from the occasional whimpering she would do. I attempted to talk to her a couple times too but she was so silent I gave up after awhile. She was traumatized by what happened and scared of being caught as The Count's right-hand man, but I wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.
As I was making dinner, before Roy got home, my mother walked into the kitchen.
"Mom!" I exclaimed, startled by her appearance.
"Calliope, I have to talk to you," she said, her voice sounding hoarse.
"Oh, okay, sure," I said, setting down the knife I was holding and followed her to the table, where we sat down. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not," she replied, shooting me a sharp look.
"I know what happened yesterday was terrifying, seeing The Count like that," I nodded. "But–"
"Calliope, I worked with a drug lord for most of my life," she said, furrowing her eyebrows. "I watched The Count kill so many people it's become a routine in my life to see blood and parts of the human body splattered everywhere like that. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh," was all I could say.
"It's about Roy," I straightened up, unsure of what was going to follow. "I knew from the start that he was bad news. He gave me a weird vibe when you introduced him to me three years ago and last night, everything I felt about him was confirmed. Calliope, do you know what he can do?"
I sat back and scoffed. "Mom, you don't have the right to say this to me."
"He forced The Count to kill himself!" she practically screeched. "Oh, my God, Calliope, what has he done to you? He forced you to marry him, didn't he? I knew it. I knew–"
"Mom, enough. You don't get to talk about my husband like that when he saved your life," I said, firmly, trying to keep calm. "And, you don't get to say this to me when you've barely been in my life since I could remember. You don't even know Roy well enough to say anything bad about him, so please stop. He saved your life, and mine actually, so leave it."
I stood up and went to the other room, taking a deep breath. I didn't even want to look at my mother's face. She didn't know me or Roy well enough to make any sort of judgment. If she did, she wouldn't be saying anything. No matter how much she knew about his powers, she would still like him because that was Roy. Everyone liked him.
When Roy came home that night, dinner was quiet and awkward and I knew why. Roy assumed it was because my mother was traumatized by The Count. When we were getting ready for bed that night, I told him about what my mother said.
"She said that?" Roy asked, pausing.
I nodded as I pulled back the covers and slipped in. "But I told her she doesn't know you so she can't say things like that."
"Huh, interesting. Should I do something about that?"
"No. She doesn't have credibility with anyone. No one would believe her. Whatever, I just want all of this to be over," I said, closing my eyes.
I felt Roy get in next to me and he kissed my cheek.
"How're you feeling? You know, about all of this?" he asked, softly.
I opened my eyes and said, "I mean, you had to do what you had to do or else my mother would've died."
"So you don't think of me any differently?"
I sat up and looked at him. I smiled and said, "Of course not. I love you, Roy."
He kissed me and murmured, "I love you."
I laid back down on the bed and Roy turned off the lights. I closed my eyes again and visuals of The Count's dead body and my mother screaming kept flashing, but Roy was there too. He was looking at me and giving me a reassuring smile like everything was going to be okay.
In the middle of the night, I woke up and reached out to wrap my arms around Roy but was met with empty space. I opened an eye and suddenly heard our bedroom door shut. Roy climbed back into bed and I muttered, "Where'd you go?" as I cuddled into him.
He chuckled, wrapping his arm around me, and said, "Just had to get some water. Go back to sleep."
My mother stayed with us after she talked to the police about what happened. I made sure she told them what needed to be said–that The Count killed himself–and nothing more. She couldn't stop staring at the TV screen all day. I spent the day at home while Roy went to work and I tried to distract myself from the occasional whimpering she would do. I attempted to talk to her a couple times too but she was so silent I gave up after awhile. She was traumatized by what happened and scared of being caught as The Count's right-hand man, but I wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.
As I was making dinner, before Roy got home, my mother walked into the kitchen.
"Mom!" I exclaimed, startled by her appearance.
"Calliope, I have to talk to you," she said, her voice sounding hoarse.
"Oh, okay, sure," I said, setting down the knife I was holding and followed her to the table, where we sat down. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not," she replied, shooting me a sharp look.
"I know what happened yesterday was terrifying, seeing The Count like that," I nodded. "But–"
"Calliope, I worked with a drug lord for most of my life," she said, furrowing her eyebrows. "I watched The Count kill so many people it's become a routine in my life to see blood and parts of the human body splattered everywhere like that. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh," was all I could say.
"It's about Roy," I straightened up, unsure of what was going to follow. "I knew from the start that he was bad news. He gave me a weird vibe when you introduced him to me three years ago and last night, everything I felt about him was confirmed. Calliope, do you know what he can do?"
I sat back and scoffed. "Mom, you don't have the right to say this to me."
"He forced The Count to kill himself!" she practically screeched. "Oh, my God, Calliope, what has he done to you? He forced you to marry him, didn't he? I knew it. I knew–"
"Mom, enough. You don't get to talk about my husband like that when he saved your life," I said, firmly, trying to keep calm. "And, you don't get to say this to me when you've barely been in my life since I could remember. You don't even know Roy well enough to say anything bad about him, so please stop. He saved your life, and mine actually, so leave it."
I stood up and went to the other room, taking a deep breath. I didn't even want to look at my mother's face. She didn't know me or Roy well enough to make any sort of judgment. If she did, she wouldn't be saying anything. No matter how much she knew about his powers, she would still like him because that was Roy. Everyone liked him.
When Roy came home that night, dinner was quiet and awkward and I knew why. Roy assumed it was because my mother was traumatized by The Count. When we were getting ready for bed that night, I told him about what my mother said.
"She said that?" Roy asked, pausing.
I nodded as I pulled back the covers and slipped in. "But I told her she doesn't know you so she can't say things like that."
"Huh, interesting. Should I do something about that?"
"No. She doesn't have credibility with anyone. No one would believe her. Whatever, I just want all of this to be over," I said, closing my eyes.
I felt Roy get in next to me and he kissed my cheek.
"How're you feeling? You know, about all of this?" he asked, softly.
I opened my eyes and said, "I mean, you had to do what you had to do or else my mother would've died."
"So you don't think of me any differently?"
I sat up and looked at him. I smiled and said, "Of course not. I love you, Roy."
He kissed me and murmured, "I love you."
I laid back down on the bed and Roy turned off the lights. I closed my eyes again and visuals of The Count's dead body and my mother screaming kept flashing, but Roy was there too. He was looking at me and giving me a reassuring smile like everything was going to be okay.
In the middle of the night, I woke up and reached out to wrap my arms around Roy but was met with empty space. I opened an eye and suddenly heard our bedroom door shut. Roy climbed back into bed and I muttered, "Where'd you go?" as I cuddled into him.
He chuckled, wrapping his arm around me, and said, "Just had to get some water. Go back to sleep."