"Willow's Missing Tail" 31

Martha couldn’t help Willow, not until sunrise, so with a worried heart she went back and picked up the two teacups. She walked on to the kitchen intent on speaking with Miriam.

Miriam was sitting at the kitchen table but Martha didn’t see Perfidia or Jon anywhere and assumed they’d found another place to talk. She approached Miriam.

Miriam looked at Martha with less than welcoming eyes.

“Go away Martha, I don’t want to talk to you,” Miriam's voice trembled.

“I’m just bringing you a cup of tea. We don’t have to say a word,”

“I don’t want any tea,” she grumbled.

“This one is special,” Martha placed one of the teacups on the table in front of her.

“Why because you made it?” Miriam scoffed and began to cry.

Martha sighed and sat down across from her. “I know you’re feeling awful but…you weren’t fair to Percival.”

Miriam gave her a sharp, tear filled look and challenged the statement.

“I wasn’t fair to Percival? How fair was he to me, calling you his girlfriend?” Miriam demanded, the indignation stopping her tears.

“What did you expect him to say after you blurted out the deceptions of that summer? Percival hadn’t known anything about that. Of course he’d feel betrayed and of course his thoughts would go back to that summer, when we were together. It was that memory that drove his words. It had nothing to do with you, and nothing to do with how he feels about you now.”

Miriam wanted to believe that but her anguish was more complicated. Her distress wasn’t only over Percival calling Martha his girlfriend. It was tangled up with the guilt she felt for her part in deceiving Percival, and hiding the havoc she’d created last summer.

She sniffed back tears and shook her head. “If he had cared about me, it was before all of these secrets came to light. I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same way now.”

“You’re wrong Miriam. Percival still cares for you. That summer’s uncomfortable revelations won’t change that. He may be upset right now, given the secrets he’s become aware of, but that will pass.”

“You think so? Because he didn’t look like he cared when I left the room and, if you hadn’t noticed, he hasn’t followed me.” Miriam began to sob again, loudly.

Martha sighed and let her cry for a moment before trying again to instill hope.

“Miriam, it was a lot for Percival to hear all of it at once but I’m sure, after he’s had time to process it, his feelings for you will still be there, still be strong.”

At that moment, the object of their conversation walked into the kitchen and Miriam began to cry again.

“Talk to him,” Martha whispered to her then stood up and walked towards Percival.

“Talk to her,” she said as she passed him on her way out of the kitchen.

Percival nodded and his eyes slid to Miriam.

 

Martha continued walking from the kitchen but as she passed the pantry door it suddenly opened, causing her to jump back in surprise.

Perfidia stepped out from the pantry and was just as surprised to see Martha.

“Perfidia…?”

“Martha…I need to talk to you.” Perfidia’s voice lacked its usual confidence. 

“Did you talk things out with Jon...in the pantry?”

Perfidia glanced at Percival and Miriam deep in conversation and motioned for her to keep walking. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

They walked into the foyer and turned towards the front door. The stairway leading up to the second floor was still blocked by that wall of restriction but the entry hall wasn’t blocked, and private enough for them to talk.

Perfidia leaned against the banister and Martha leaned against the wall across from her.

“What happened?” Martha asked.

 “I don’t know. Jon went through to your kitchen but when I tried to follow, a wall of resistance stopped me at the threshold. When he tried to walk back to me, it wouldn't let him cross back over.”

“That’s strange, why would it stop you two from discussing your issues? I thought it wanted everyone to release their hidden conflicts.”

“I thought so too. That’s why I decided to talk to Jon but it didn’t let me and worse, Jon thinks I planned it as a way to get him out of my house, through the pantry, but I didn’t.”

“I see…but couldn't you still talk to him, across the threshold?”

Perfidia frowned at Martha’s intuitive nature. 

"Technically yes but actually, no, I couldn’t.”

“Why not…?”

“I promise, I did go in there with the intention of talking to him but I had a good reason for not saying a word when I couldn't follow him into your kitchen.”

“Oh?”

“That interfering darkness was in the pantry with us, taunting me to talk, ready to twist my words. I was afraid it would affect how Jon heard me, so I said nothing. Now I’ve lost his trust, and possibly his love.”

Martha didn’t like that the rules of conflict had been different for Perfidia and Jon and she wanted to know why but the conflict wasn't communicative, only intrusive.

“I would have thought you'd both be stuck in the pantry until you’d hashed out your problems, like it did with Daphne and Avery.”

“Yeah, well it didn’t. The conflict hates me!” Perfidia sneered at the tiny, dark cloud hovering nearby.

"There has to be more to it." Martha scrutinied the dark cloud.

“Yes, it more than hates me. It allowed Jon to leave but not me. I couldn't set things right because I couldn't follow him and I’m worried he won’t be there in the morning.”

“I’m sure he’ll be there.”

“I'm not. He locked the door between us and…he truly thinks I planned it this way.”

Martha had a small suspicion about that too but knew it was the hovering conflict that prompted her to ask. “Did you?”

Perfidia’s brows furrowed downward with a look of friendship betrayal.

“Martha, how can you doubt me? I told you I tried to follow him and I intended to talk at your house, without the conflict adding its weight to our words.”

The dark cloud moved closer and Martha felt the need to question more. “Perfidia, why did you create that bracelet?”

Perfidia’s eyes grew wide and troubled but she didn’t answer.

Martha looked at the little, dark cloud and felt a nudge as more questions formed. She wasn't sure if they were hers or planted in her thoughts by the misty intruder.

“You know you didn’t need that bracelet. Jon told you he loved you. Why doubt it? Why not believe him?”

Perfidia felt that dark matter nudging her shoulder and wanted to ignore it. She didn't like being forced to answer but, maybe talking to Martha about it wasn't terrible.

“I have trouble trusting, even if my feelings for Jon are strong, it’s not easy to accept them. And before you ask me why, it’s complicated. I'm complicated, every part of my life is a complication.”

“Why is that?”

“I just said don’t ask me why,” Perfidia scoffed with annoyance.

“Is it because you don’t believe he loves you?”

“Martha, stop.”

“I think you know I can’t,” Martha looked up nodding to the cloud hovering directly over them.

“Fine…but you should know I don’t examine why I do anything." The cloud drew closer and Perfidia shivered feeling a chill permeate the hallway, and her bones. She knew it wouldn't going away until she answered. "Okay..if I had to consider my reason for creating the bracelet after Jon confessed to loving me…I guess, I needed to be in control of the relationship.”

“Because…?” Martha prompted.

Perfidia groaned and her eyes flashed storm clouds. “So it wasn’t controlling me!” she shouted but then she took a calming breath and apologized. “I’m sorry Martha. I told you it’s complicated.”

“It’s not complicated Perfidia. Your answer didn’t surprise me.”

“It didn’t?”

“No. You keep your heart in lock down, that's obvious, but do you know why?”

Perfidia scoffed, “No. I haven’t psychoanalyzed myself lately…or ever.”

“So you’ve no idea why you need to distance yourself from deeper feelings?”

Perfidia’s brows slanted downwards. She knew what Martha was hinting at and didn’t want to go there, but the chasm was opened.

“You think it has something to do with my dad, because I was so young when he died. You think that's the reason for my hesitancy to get close to anyone?”

The dark cloud slithered away from them and Martha was released from the need to probe. Was it because Perfidia had faced an internal conflict? But Martha felt the need to continue questioning Perfidia. “You and your dad were very close.”

Perfidia felt tears form and blinked several times to keep them at bay. “We were,” she whispered.

“After he died, you didn’t become as close with your mom, did you?”

Perfidia slid down to the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest feeling the weight of the memories destroying her, again. She shook her head.

“My mom’s job took her away from home, often. At first I thought, after my dad died, that would change, but it didn’t. I realized later on that she needed to work more because finances had depleted without his contribution. Even so, my dad had been the one who was there for me. He was home more often. He’d cook most nights, take me to school every morning and pick me up. Then on days off from school, he’d plan these amazing adventures for us. We’d have so much fun…he made life interesting…he-” she swallowed a sob but couldn’t hold back the tears. They flowed in an endless stream down her face.

“You never got over the loss,” Martha concluded and walked over to sit down next to her on the floor.

Perfidia swiped at the tears and shook her head. “No I haven’t and in some ways…in many ways, I haven’t healed either, but I have become closer to my mom.”

“I know you're afraid to rely on someone being there for you, afraid to commit to being there for them. It’s easier not to care.”

Martha’s summation hit close to the heart of it and Perfidia realized she was still grieving the loss of her dad, had never stopped grieving for him.

“You’re right Martha. I don’t believe in love transcending…anything.”

“You want a guarantee love will last forever and you want an unconditional forever.”

"Yes, exactly," Perfidia agreed. She knew there was a connection to her dad’s untimely death and her inability to trust. She saw how her dance of two steps back whenever a moment with Jon turned serious or he wanted to discuss their future, was a very telling sign of her fear.

“I've built a protective wall around my heart, made it impenetrable to protect myself from grief but I’ve never stopped feeling it for my dad. Maybe, I can’t allow my heart to engage. I can’t trust love won’t destroy me again.”

“Don't you see a path to sharing a lifetime with Jon?”

Perfdia scoffed, “I’d want a guarantee before I step onto that path, but I know that isn’t possible.”

“So you bound him with a charmed bracelet to feel in control?”

“I guess so. Maybe I should let him walk away, he’d leave eventually.”

“That’s not the solution. You need to let go of the fear, open your heart to him, unconditionally.”

“What if I can’t do that.”

“If you don't at least try, you’ll regret it Perfidia and regret can be as harsh as grief. You have to surrender to love, trust it.”

“I don’t surrender.” Perfidia smirked, but it was a weak defense.

Martha knew Perfidia was stronger than she thought, capable of doing or being anything she set her mind to. She just needed to want it badly enough. Did she want Jon enough? Maybe not.

“Anyway, I’ll find out tomorrow if Jon is waiting there and If he is, we’ll talk but…I’m afraid it will still be an ending.”

“Not if you let your heart have a say in what you say, when you talk to him.”

"Let my heart have a say in what I say? You should stich that profoundness on a pillow," Perfidia chuckled and wiped at a stray tear as she stood up.

"Just think about it." Martha stood up too. “We should get back to the other guests, make sure everyone is keeping things civil.”

“Sure…and what about you and Dillon?” Perfidia asked as they walked, “Have you two talked about that dog he brought here tonight, and why he kept it a secret?”

“No, we put our discussion off in lieu of trying to keep everyone here from falling into an abyss of conflict.”

“Oh really…?” Perfidia laughed, "How’d that turn out?”

“As you can see, not very well,” Martha chuckled.

“Well, as one part of a conflicted couple, I say there’s no point in worrying. Tomorrow will tell all.”

"You’re right, no point in worrying. What will be, will be,” Martha said with a sage shrug of a shoulder.

 “And...thanks for listening, Martha. I don’t talk about, you know…feelings...and I’m glad we’re friends,” Perfidia stumbled over the words of gratitude, feeling awkward. That was another reason she didn’t like talking about feelings, it made you feel exposed and vulnerable. Two things she never enjoyed.

Martha turned and hugged her. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

Perfidia hugged her back, for a second, then dropped her hands. “I’m good now.”

 

They walked into the kitchen to find it empty. Apparently, Percival and Miriam had either made up or drifted away from each other.

“I have an idea how we can forget these heavy issues and constant worry for Willow until the sunrise," Martha said.

“Great, I’m in for that. What’s the plan?”

“We'll have a midnight to sunrise party, help ease everyone's tensions.”

“It's already after midnight, and you think a marathon of food can ease these tensions?” Perfidia chuckled doubtfully.

“I don’t know, but it's worth a try."

Perfidia nodded. "You're right, since we’re all prisoners of that Ramulus sucking magic till sunrise, we may as well throw a Pity Party.”