CHAPTER SIX

————

december 24, 1970

"WHY'D YOU THREE MISS dinner last night?" Mary asks, standing at the head of the dining table with a cigarette in hand.

     Hunham looks up from his scrambled eggs, making brief eye contact with a sling-less Angus mulling over his toast and Esther to his left, pushing mushy cereal around with her spoon. "Oh, we went into town on some, uh, school-related business," he replies.

     Mary raises her eyebrows. "And you couldn't call?" she presses.

     "Sorry."

     There's a clattering at the back of the room as the door to the hallway is pushed open. A dark-skinned man holding a mop and bucket comes through, leaving the door open behind him. "Good morning, everybody," he says, a friendly smile on his face.

     "Hi, Danny," Hunham responds.

     Mary turns around to greet the man. "Good morning. You can go on in and fix yourself a plate," she says.

     Instead, Danny stops by the table. "I just saw something funny," he begins, obtaining everyone's attention. "I walked into the gym, and someone had vomited in there." He looks pointedly at Angus and Mary quickly follows suit before looking to Hunham.

     The boys stare at each other for a beat, Angus taking a swig from his glass of orange juice to avoid answering for his crimes. "You don't say. I don't know anything about that," Hunham lies.

     "Yeah. Me, neither," Angus adds.

     Esther lets go of her spoon, letting it sink partway into the milk. "I also know nothing."

     "No, uh, I'll look into that right away. Thank you," Hunham says.

     Mary, disbelieving, hums in response. "I see how it is."

     Danny also sees right through the trio's lies. He strolls toward Angus and plops the bucket and mop down on the floor beside him. Angus gapes at him even though he knows it's fair. "You're out your mind," Danny mutters under his breath, heading for the kitchen doors.

     Esther waits until he's gone to lean toward the taller boy. "I mean you did—"

     "—Can it."

Angus finishes his breakfast in grouchy silence, leaving the dining hall with the bucket and mop in hand to clean up his mess. Esther laughs out loud and has to take a second to calm down before she can eat a few mouthfuls of her soggy cereal. She excuses herself from the table before she finishes the whole meal, heading up the few flights of stairs to head for the gym so she can stand in the doorway and taunt Angus as he cleans.

She stops when he throws a dirty sponge at her and it nearly makes contact with her head.

So, she heads back to the Right Room, where she busies herself for a good hour by drawing in her sketchbook, until Angus comes knocking at the door.

"You better not have another sponge," Esther murmurs, glancing up through her eyelashes, aiming a pencil at him.

Angus raises his empty hands in surrender. "No sponge," he says. "You know where Hunham is?"

Esther shakes her head. "Can't say I do," she replies.

"You wanna find him and annoy him with me?" Angus asks.

Esther tosses the sketchbook to the side. "You know I do," she says, standing up. She brushes her hands on her pants, wiping stray graphite onto the dark denim, before following Angus through the halls of the school.

After checking a few rooms — Hunham's bedroom down the hall, the library, the dining room — the pair throw open the doors of the kitchen and come strolling through. Both Mary and Hunham are there, preparing food together.

Angus greets Mary as the pair approach, his hands tucked into his front pockets like he's in some Western movie. Mary looks up, busy crushing garlic under a large knife. "Speaking of," she mutters. Esther and Angus exchange a look of confusion. Speaking of what?

Within a second, Angus' focus drifts to the tray of food beside him. "Oh, brownies? God, yes. I want all of these," he says, sticking his fingers into the glass pan to pull one out.

"Ah-ah!" Mary calls out. "Just take one. The rest is for the Christmas party tonight."

Angus takes a single brownie from the tray and, after an unspoken second exchange with the cook, passes another one to Esther. She steps forward to grab a sheet of paper towel from the bench, breaking off a corner of the dessert to eat now and wrapping the rest in the towel for safekeeping.

"What Christmas party? There's a Christmas party?" Angus asks, taking a bite out of his brownie piece.

"Yeah, at Miss Crane's house. I'm only going to go for a little bit. Show my face and say I was there. You know, Miss Crane said she invited you too," Mary replies, continuing to prepare food all the while.

Angus' eyes widen. "I want to go to the party," he says, mouth still full.

"Please?" Esther joins in. "It was my birthday yesterday," she adds on, hoping it'll sway Hunham's vote.

"It was her birthday yesterday!" Angus repeats.

Hunham stammers, holding out a hand. "She didn't mean it. We were just making small talk."

"If you don't want to go, don't go. I'll take them," Mary says.

Angus and Esther nod along. "Mary can take us," Angus parrots.

"No, that's not how it works," Hunham states. "You're under my supervision."

Angus huffs. "Okay, maybe it's fine for you to sit around here and read books all day, but I'm losing my goddamn mind." He turns around to storm out of the kitchen, throwing the rest of his brownie the length of the room. "Jesus!" he exclaims.

"Hey! Watch your mouth, young man. Not on Christmas Eve," Mary scolds the boy, raising her voice.

     "I'm gonna go skate and cut my hand open again and I'm gonna blame you when it happens!" Esther shouts over her shoulder, briskly heading for the exit a few paces behind Angus. Her short hair fans out behind her from the sheer speed alone.

     Once the teenagers are back in the hall, Angus turns to face her. "Are you actually?" he asks, brows scrunched in confused concern.

     Esther blinks at him. "No. It fucking hurt. Why would I— Are you good?" She pauses and looks at his discarded brownie, sitting sadly on the floor. "You got some good distance on that."

"Thanks."

————

Mary comes through for the teenagers. Within the hour, Hunham's telling them to get ready to go out, and the pair scramble to get their shit together before he changes his mind. Angus books it down the hall to shower and shave, while Esther braves the cold to get to her car and search through her secret third suitcase. The only things she brought inside were warm sweaters and long pants, but this ( larger ) bag contains a much wider variety — skirts, dresses, short-sleeved tops. She selects a shift dress adorned with burgundy and brown vertical stripes, stuffs it in the crook of her elbow, and closes Mayfair's trunk before trudging back inside.

     She layers the dress over a white turtleneck and a pair of sheer tights and throws on her snow-damaged suede boots. By the time Hunham is rapping on her door to tell her that it's time to leave, she's finishing her makeup, pressing her lips together to even out her light red lipstick. She has to slip on a coat to get herself from the building to the car and she keeps it on until she sets foot inside Miss Crane's house.

After the grown-ups exchange pleasantries, Mary holds out her platter of brownies — transferred into a glass tray and covered by a green, patterned towel. "Where should I put these?" she asks.

Miss Crane takes a peek under the towel and dramatically gasps. "Those, I'll be putting on my bedside table," she says, taking the platter into her own hands.

Mary laughs as she hands off the tray. "Oh! You're a wicked woman."

"You have no idea," Miss Crane responds with an evil little cackle.

Esther leans over and nudges Angus' arm with her elbow. "Is there anyone our age here?" she asks, voice low so Mary can't hear her.

Angus scans the crowd of people and shakes his head. "Doesn't look like it, unless you count the kid," he replies. Esther leans over to see what he's seeing — a small child wearing a blue button-down and no pants dancing with his mother.

"I don't count the child," Esther replies.

Angus steps away from the entrance, leaning over to look at a decorative snowglobe sitting on a side table. He picks it up and shakes it to make the snow fall. Esther leans against the doorframe, shutting her eyes as she waits for Miss Crane to give the group the go-ahead to join the party so she can get herself something sweet to drink.

"Oh, Esther," Miss Crane says, catching her attention. "Angus!" she calls, snapping the boy out of his daze. She directs the two to look at a pair of teenagers around their age who'd seemingly materialised out of thin air. "Angus Tully is one of our students at Barton, and Esther Ya-suy is..." she trails off, searching for something to describe her by.

Esther butts in. "Yasui, not Ya-suy."

"Yes, sorry," Miss Crane says quickly. "Esther Yasui is our headmaster's stepdaughter. Uh, you two, these are my niece and nephew — Elise and Linden."

Angus' eyes dart between Miss Crane and her niece. "Niece Elise," he says. "Nice."

Elise rolls her eyes at him because she's totally heard that line before but she continues to smile at him. Linden extends his arm and the boys shake hands respectfully, and Esther moves away from the door to stand next to the only teenage girl she's seen in forever. "Nice to meet you," she says. Elise nods politely, turning her attention back to her aunt as she continues the introductions.

"Um, hey, why don't you two take Angus and Esther down into the basement? Introduce them to our family tradition," Miss Crane suggests.

Elise nods. "Come on," she says, beckoning the pair to follow her with a nod. She leads them away with Linden bringing up the rear of the group.

"I hope it's not a cult," Esther whispers to Angus.

He snorts. "You shouldn't be so sarcastic all the time, you know?" he says.

Esther furrows her brows. "What do you mean? I'll have you know, I'm being deadly serious."

The group passes by a coat rack and Elise stops, giving the pair a chance to remove their jackets. Esther and Angus throw theirs onto the same peg, then continue following Elise to the staircase leading to the basement. The sound of adult chatter fades, replaced by kiddy Christmas carols and children's voices.

They come to a stop at a small round table, where a handful of kids are busy making crafts on paper plates together — playing with a spread of pompoms, glitters, pipe cleaners, and popsicle sticks.

"This is what you wanted to show us?" Angus asks.

"We grew up playing down here during our aunt's parties," Elise replies. "I think it's kind of cool. There's a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up."

Esther looks to her other side, where Linden is standing. His arms are crossed over his chest. "Not as impressed?" Esther asks.

"I mean, we're both nearly adults and they still make us hang out down here," Linden replies, just barely holding back an eye-roll.

"I turned eighteen yesterday and my stepdad is still making me hold over at his school until the end of the holidays. You'll never be free," says Esther, shaking her head.

Linden's eyes widen. "You're kidding." Esther shakes her head. She's not. "Oh, happy birthday," he adds.

"Thank you," Esther says. She scans the room — Angus and Elise have grabbed a piece of paper and some paints and have started finger-painting together, and the kids are still entertaining themselves. "So, are you just planning on standing around down here?" she asks.

Linden raises an eyebrow. "Why? Do you want to finger-paint?" Esther frowns at the judgment in his tone.

She huffs. "I guess not."

————

While Angus has fun with Elise, Esther sits in an armchair in the corner of the room bored out of her mind. Angus steals a kiss and Esther stares at a gluey pompom that one of the kids somehow got stuck to the ceiling. She eventually excuses herself and disappears up the stairs to get herself something to drink.

Logic tells her that the refreshments will be in the kitchen, so she weaves through rooms until she finds it. And, though she's right — the drinks are in here — she's also met with the sight of Mary standing in the corner, bracing herself against the kitchen counter. Danny's there too, standing a few paces back, offering support without getting too close for comfort. Mary's shoulders shudder as she sobs, and Esther, who can't remember the last time she saw an adult cry, backs up into the hallway to find reinforcements.

She zips back down the basement stairs and heads right for Angus, poking his shoulder until he stops shrugging her off and actually turns to face her. "What?" he asks, and his annoyance is evident in his tone.

"Mary's crying in the kitchen. I don't know what to do," Esther replies.

The pissed-off expression melts off Angus's face. He sighs. "It's her first Christmas without her son," he mutters, the realisation of it hitting him. Esther understood — her first Christmas without her Dad had felt even worse than the day she found him. Angus grabs her wrist, pulling her after him. "Come on."

The pair hurry up the steps and search the house until they find Hunham sitting on the sofa, seeming dejected. "Mister Hunham?" Angus asks, leaning against the arm of the couch. "Mister Hunham, could you come with me, please?"

"Yeah. What is it?" Hunham asks, voice distant.

Esther sighs. "It's Mary," she says.

At that, Hunham gets to his feet without another word. He follows the teenagers to the kitchen and makes it there a few seconds after them. Nothing about the scene has changed since Esther first saw it except, now, Mary has kicked off her shoes so she can stand flat-footed on the tile.

"Mary? You all right?" Hunham asks.

"Just leave me alone," Mary responds between shaking breaths.

Danny approaches and presses his hand to the middle of Mary's back. "You want me to take you home?" he asks gently.

Mary flinches and pushes his hand off, raising both of her hands in fists. "Back off! Back off." Hunham steps away and shuts the door, blocking out the noise of the party. Mary sniffles and leans back against the counter. "He's gone," she manages to get out before dissolving into tears.

Angus and Esther both sink into themselves — neither knowing what to do in this scenario. Yasui-Woodrup-Michaelsons don't cry — this, Esther, knows as fact. When Grandma Michaelson died, Esther's mother didn't cry. Not in front of her, anyway. When Esther watched her father being lowered into the ground, her bottom lip shook but did she cry? No.

She doesn't know what the correct protocol is here.

"Okay, Angus, get our jackets," Hunham orders. Angus doesn't argue, he just opens the door and disappears into the hallway to find the coat rack. He comes back with three jackets and a hat lumped over his arm. He's got his own jacket on already.

Esther tosses Hunham's hat to him and takes her coat from the top of the pile, shrugging it on. It's such a crime to cover an outfit like this.

Hunham puts his outerwear on before he and Danny help Mary into her coat. Angus and Hunham then take one of Mary's arms each and lead her to the door and out to the car, with Esther following close behind.

"I was right," Hunham announces once outside. "This is why I hate parties. That was a disaster. Total disaster!"

"Speak for yourself. I was having fun," Angus says.

Esther stares into the distance. "I wasn't," she mumbles.

"Let's take Mary home, make sure she's okay, and we'll come back," Angus continues.

Hunham's face screws up. "Out of the question!" he exclaims.

"Come on. Would you give me a break? I was hitting it off with Elise," Angus complains.

Esther nods along. "Yeah, they kissed and everything."

Angus looks at her. "You saw that?"

"No, I felt a change in the universe when it happened— yes, I saw it."

Hunham waves his free hand to shut the teenagers up. "This poor woman is bereft, and all you can think about is some silly girl and, and semantics. Unbelievable," he huffs.

"I don't need you feeling sorry for me," Mary says.

"See?" Angus says. "I'm just saying, this was the first good thing that came with being in this prison with you."

Hunham stops walking. "Need I remind you that it is not my fault that you are stuck here? Do you think I want to be babysitting you? Oh, no, no, I was praying to the god I don't even believe in that your mother would pick up the phone or your father would arrive in a helicopter or a submarine or a flying fucking saucer to take you—"

"My father's dead," Angus blurts out.

Everyone freezes. Hunham's breath catches. All Esther can do is blink. Hunham just manages to stammer out half a sentence. "I thought your father—"

"—That's just some rich guy my mom married," Angus says, his stare unwavering "Give me your keys," he demands.

Hunham's arms drop to his sides. "It's unlocked," he says.

Angus sets off toward the car, Esther at his heel. They both climb into the backseat of the car and slam the doors shut, falling into total silence as they watch Mary and Hunham speak.

So, you're in the dead Dad club too, huh? Esther wants to say. But she doesn't. She just stays quiet, sinking back against the seat, wrapping her coat further around her torso.

————

a/n:
if procrastinating was an olympic sport, i'd win gold. i'm coming to you on december 23rd with four whole chapters left to write and i am STRESSED (technically three chapters and an epilogue but still). luckily, i've finished my christmas shopping so this is ALL i have left to do but still, yeesh.

question of the chapter: what non-olympic-sport would you win gold in?

published: december 25, 2024
word count: 3.1k