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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
bribery brownies
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( the monster, pt. iv)

• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

LAURA AND NANCY are free to go after they give witness statements, and Laura is eager to leave the stuffy, crowded police station before her mom senses she's there and drives over to kick her ass. Nancy assures her that she'll watch over Jonathan. He's now eerily calm in comparison to how wild he'd been mere minutes ago, staring into nothing.

Laura has business. Namely, interrogating Nancy's little brother.

She trudges back home with her arms huddled against the wind that flares the skirt of her dress, pressing the sherpa lining closer to her skin that prickles from the cold. It's mainly muscle memory that gets her there. She's only dimly aware of each step she takes, her mind entrenched in the questions she's going to ask the boys. Lucas will be the hardest to crack. He's always been the most level-headed, his no-nonsense attitude sometimes causing rifts between the group. But Dustin will be easy.

Laura steps into the foyer and sighs in relief at the heat that envelops her body. Her parents, seated on the sofa together, look up at the sound of the door closing behind her. Her dad's arm is slung over her mom's shoulder as she rests her head against him. The simple display of intimacy reminds her of Nancy and Jonathan's shared sentiments about their parents' lack of affection toward each other. She can't imagine living in a household where a sight like this wasn't normal.

"You're home earlier than we thought you'd be," her dad remarks over the sound of the television. "Nancy said you had plans today."

"She had something come up," Laura says, surprised by how easily and quickly the lie leaves her mouth. She shucks off her coat, hangs it on the rack next to the door, and kicks off her sneakers. "You know, with the funeral and Mike and everything. I was going to bring some brownies over there."

Her mom frowns. "Did they already eat the cookies you brought last week?"

"Dustin was over, Mom. The kid's like a machine."

Laura bounds up the stairs before they can ask more questions or notice the dirt smudged on her uniform. She'd tried to brush off most of the gravel and dust at the police station, but it turns out that falling in a gross alleyway, even quickly, makes your clothing pretty dirty. She eagerly sheds her apron and dress before chucking them into her hamper.

Will Nancy and Jonathan still want to go monster hunting tonight? She checks the clock. It's already getting close to three, and they'll have to spend all of tomorrow catching up on homework. Even if she wants to purge her frustration from the day by killing a monster that had taken her friend, she also has to remain cognizant of her grades if she wants to pass Chemistry. November usually flies by. Before she knows it, it'll be time for finals, and she wants to be prepared to ace an exam for once.

She decides to play it safe for either activity — monster hunting or staying in — with a cream turtleneck that will keep her warm under her usual coat. She can always swap jackets later if she needs to. Untying her messy ponytail, she drags a brush through her hair before tying it up again. She won't want it in her face during baking or fleeing for her life from terrors beyond her imagination.

In the kitchen, she preheats the oven and starts setting out the ingredients for the brownies. It's a recipe she knows by heart and could probably bake with her eyes closed. As such, she goes through the motions of locating bowls, spoons, measuring cups, and everything else required to complete the recipe. Then she pauses while looking in the pantry, eyeing a bag of chocolate chips. There can't be too much chocolate in a brownie mix, right? Something tells her the additional sweets will entice Dustin even more. She grabs the package and shuts the door.

"Need any help?"

Laura turns to see her mom leaning in the doorway, her arms casually folded across her chest.

The question confuses her. "I know how to make brownies."

Her mom raises her eyebrows in slight amusement at Laura's blunt tone. She pushes herself from the wall and fully walks into the kitchen, heading toward the counter that's loaded with supplies. "I meant, can we have some mother-daughter time and make a batch of brownies together?"

Oh. The part about "help" had been a code for something else. Laura is no less perplexed, causing her to crease her brows as she considers the offer. Sure, she'd learned everything she knows about baking from her mom. They used to spend hours in the kitchen together when Laura was younger, baking treats for every occasion. Rugelach for Hanukkah, snowflake-shaped cookies to give to the Wheelers on Christmas, birthday cakes, cupcakes with pink and red frosting on Valentine's Day, banana bread because the store was giving away overripe fruit, muffins just-because.

But those traditions had stopped somewhere along the line. As Laura got older, they grew apart. They still bake birthday cakes, but the magic is gone. There aren't any Sunday pastries or new desserts for every night of Hanukkah. Now Laura is busy with homework and her job. Her mom doesn't seem to have time, either. She's used to the wall that has slowly grown between them, though she isn't sure when it started to form, or when it had gotten so large. She just remembers the day she realized she couldn't tell her mom everything anymore, and that no matter how hard she tried, she never seemed to be good enough.

"Sure," Laura says. "Um... I was going to add in extra chocolate chips."

"For Dustin?" her mom asks.

Laura blinks. "Yeah."

Sometimes she forgets that her mom and Mrs. Wheeler are close, so of course she would know the names of Mike's friends, and not just Will because he's missing. She'd just kind of assumed her mom had stopped paying attention to those things.

While Laura begins measuring out the dry ingredients into a small bowl, her mom does the same with the wet ones in a larger one. The distant sound of the television breaks the silence between them. Normally, she'd get lost in the process of baking, but since she's not alone, she's aware of every movement. Each crack of an egg against the edge of the bowl to break the shell, each shhhhh of the sugar falling from the measuring cup.

"One second," her mom says. She rinses the yolk from her hands and then leaves, and Laura bites her lip, looking down at her bowl, wondering what she did wrong.

But then she returns with the cassette player from the living room in one hand and a tape in another. She places the machine on the counter, plugs in into an outlet, and presses the button to pop the receiver out.

"What tape is that?" Laura asks.

Her mom gives her a conspiratorial wink. "You'll just have to listen and find out."

She slides the tape in, presses play, and walks back to her spot at the counter. Laura waits. A few moments later, the opening notes of "Hanging On The Telephone" by Blondie begin to pour out of the speakers. A surprised smile takes over her face as she looks at her mom, who's carefully watching her reaction.

"Remember when we used to do this all the time?" her mom asks. Evidently, she'd been thinking of the past as well, reminiscing on days where their hands would be covered in flour and the kitchen would be a mess when they were done, but it didn't matter. It was the bonding that counted. "Music and baking?"

Laura nods. "You'd have me pick out a tape, and that would be our soundtrack for the day. Like The Jackson 5 while we made shortbread cookies."

She usually thinks that her music taste is reflective of her dad's choices, but in truth, she owes a lot of her love for it to her mom. Thinking back on it opens up more memories, digging them out from the back of her mind, blowing the dust off them. The snippets of her past become clearer. She remembers trips to the store to buy more records and tapes, diversifying Laura's palette and introducing her to a wide variety of genres. No matter what they picked out, they always listened to it all the way through, even if it was terrible and made Laura grind her back molars in discomfort.

"I want to make sure you're doing okay," her mom says. "I know how close you are with Barbara, and those... idiotic police officers weren't much help. I understand if you want to spend more time with Nancy. Make sure she knows she's always welcome over here, too."

Laura nods because she thinks it's the right thing to do. "I'm... yeah, I'm doing okay, I think. I'm not gonna stop fighting for Barb, or—" She stops herself right before she says Or for Will. Instead, she swallows and says, "Or give up on her."

"You're a good friend, Laura."

Her lips press into a thin line. She looks down at her bowl, shaking her head.

"You are." Her mom's voice grows firmer. "It's not your fault that you didn't go outside right away. When have you ever let her down? How many times has Nancy called here and asked to talk to you when she's upset because she knows you'll help her feel better? You're baking brownies for Michael and his friends."

Laura is mainly baking said brownies so she can bribe the kids, but she had made them those cookies last week out of the goodness of her heart, so she doesn't argue.

"You're a beautiful person, musume. And I know I don't say it enough, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm proud of you."

Laura's gaze returns to her mom, of whom she's the spitting image, as her heart clenches and her eyes fill with unexpected tears. When was the last time she'd heard that from her mother's lips? She can't remember. She didn't know how badly she'd needed them until now.

If her hands weren't messy, she would have leaned into her mom's embrace and found comfort in her arms. Instead, she blinks away the silver lining her eyes and says, "Thanks, mom."

That wall is still there. It's going to take more work and time for it to dissolve, but it feels like they've removed a couple of bricks already. Laura feels lighter. Like maybe, if she needs help, she doesn't have to wait for her dad to be available. She could always ask her mom.

"Let's try to do this more often, yeah?" her mom asks. "I'll let you pick the tape next time."

"You picked a good one," Laura replies. "But... yeah. We can definitely do this more often."

Her mother presses a kiss to her forehead and leans over to turn up the volume dial on the cassette player. "One Way Or Another" is playing now, the strong guitar blaring through the speakers and electrifying the kitchen, nearly causing the counters to vibrate from its intensity.

"I am trying to listen to the television in here!" her dad hollers from the living room.

Laura's mom gives her a mischievous look and cranks it higher.

—°• ☆ . °—

Mike doesn't answer when Laura rings the doorbell.

She knows he's home — she'd spied through her windows and watched him, Dustin, and some unknown third child ride up to the house on their bikes. Her brows had furrowed at the sight of the strange kid with a buzzcut and a pink dress that looks suspiciously like one of Nancy's old ones. It certainly wasn't Lucas, and Mike only has three friends. Who is the new acquaintance?

The little shit doesn't seem keen on her figuring it out. The Wheeler family's front door continues to stare defiantly in her face, and she can practically feel them ignoring her.

"I know you're home, Mike!" she shouts, banging her fist on the white wood so the window above the knob rattles. "Open up!"

After a few more moments of silence, Mike's voice calls, "Uh, I can't. I'm... I'm sick! Really nasty cold. Don't want you to catch it."

He even throws in a fake cough for good measure. Laura rolls her eyes.

"I literally saw you this morning, dipshit. I know you're not sick. I thought you might've wanted more baked goods."

The door instantly whisks open, revealing Dustin staring at her almost in awe. She raises her eyebrows at him and he steps aside to let her in the house.

Mike stands in the foyer, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He picks at the hem of his striped ringer tee as his eyes hop around the room.

As soon as the door closes behind her, leaving them alone in the house and away from potential eavesdroppers, Laura puts her hand on her hip. "All right. Enough of the bullshit. What are you hiding?"

Mike's eyes widen. "Hiding? N-Nothing! We're not hiding anything, I swear."

"That's what I thought you'd say." She turns to Dustin. "If you give me answers, you get a brownie." Opening the Tupperware container, she allows him to see the desserts within, still warm from the oven and glistening with gooey sweetness. "Double. Chocolate."

"Mike," Dustin pleads. He stares at the offered bribe like a deer caught in headlights, his expression almost pained. His eyes follow the container as Laura moves it in enticing circles.

"Answers, Dustin," Laura reminds him. "Where's the other kid that was with you?"

"What other kid?" Mike questions, still trying to sound innocent. "It's just us."

"I literally watched you guys ride up to the house. You aren't as good at keeping secrets as you may think."

Dustin's stomach growls as the scent of the freshly-baked goods fills the foyer. His voice is still panicked as he warns, "Mike, I'm gonna break."

Then Laura hears it — a barely perceptible noise. A soft thump coming from somewhere in the house. Something so quiet that someone less adamant on finding information wouldn't have noticed it. She cracks into motion, sliding past the boys and padding down the hallway to the dining room. Her intrusion makes Mike call out a frantic, "Laura!" as he stumbles after her and tugs on her coat sleeve.

There's nothing in the living or dining rooms that her cursory glances could reveal. Next, her gaze lands on the closed door to the basement. Only Mike and his friends go down there anymore, so it typically evades her interest. Now, though, it seems to beckon her. Mike had seemed antsy to get down there the last time she'd brought treats. At the time, she'd dismissed it as him wanting to get back to a D&D campaign, but what if it was something else?

She reaches for the knob. Mike releases a final shout of, "Wait!" before she whisks it open and thunders down the wooden steps.

Sitting in a makeshift blanket fort is the small child with the buzzcut and pink dress. They regard each other for a few seconds of stunned silence, the child's dark eyes the size of small planets, until Laura addresses Mike.

"Not hiding anything, huh?"

_______

a/n:

i am SO excited for all of the side quests to join together in these final episodes! laura thought her only problems were interdimensional monsters... the poor girl will soon realize it's only the tip of the iceberg.

thank you so much for reading!

— kristyn

( word count: 2.6k )