“....And, uh, budget isn’t HUGE, but Angel and Odette are working wonders with what we do have. Clara is suggesting paintball as a bachelorette party, which I reckon will be awesome but i’m worried about whether or not it’s Charlie’s familie’s vibe, and….what?” Vaggie paused in her diatribe to look up at her adoptive mother.
“What?” Carmilla asked.
“Oh, it’s just…you’re smiling.”
“That is correct..”
“It’s just….”
“I don’t smile very much.”
“I mean….yes?”
Carmilla chuckled.
“My daughter is getting married.” She said. “Calls for a smile, no?”
Vaggie felt a joyful flush come to her cheeks. She was somebody's daughter. And she was getting married. A few years ago, both of those things would have seemed impossible. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, grinning.
“I’m so lucky, mama.” She said. “I keep hearing jokes about, you know, the old ball and chain and stuff, but….every time Charlie walks into a room, it becomes brighter. And now she’s gonna be my wife!”
Out of nowhere, a strange look passed over Carmilla’s face.
“You really love this girl, don’t you?”
Vaggie smiled.
“More than anything.” She said.
“How do you know?” Carmilla asked.
There was a moment of silence. Carmilla blinked, as if the words she’d just spoken had turned round and slapped her.
“Never mind.” She said. “None of my business.”
“Miss Carmine?” Vaggie asked, forgetting, in the awkwardness, to say “mama” instead.
“Oh, I…I just….” Vaggie had seen Carmilla furious and jubilant, grieving and triumphant, but never this uncomfortable. “I mean…i’ve been thinking a lot, recently, about how….you know, can you ever really know you’re in love? Recognise it, I mean to say. I mean, a lot of times, you can be so sure you’re in love, and it can just be…a friendship, an infatuation.” She blanched. “Not that that applies in your case, of course.” She said.
Vaggie drew herself up to her full height, her heart suddenly beating very fast.
“I KNOW Charlie and I are in love. She makes me feel safe, but excited. I know i can trust her with anything, good or bad, big or small. I. Love. Her.” She said the last words a little more defiantly than she meant to, and Carmilla looked back at her, her face silent and inscrutable.
“I have to go.” Vaggie said, leaving the room before her mother could speak.
“So, headline figures: We are fifty five percent of the way towards completing preparations for the overall wedding, and eighty two percent of the way through preparing for the ceremony itself. We remain significantly under budget, and are two days and six hours ahead of schedule.” Odette listed the points on her fingers. “Now, as to the detail…”
“Uhuh, sounds great.” Vaggie said. “Weird thing happened today.”
“Was it one sister interrupting another at the beginning of what was going to be a fascinating- and informative- progress report? A progress report on said sister’s own wedding?”
“Oddy, with respect, I don’t need *this* much detail.”
“You asked me to keep you updated!”
“Yes, that didn’t mean a powerpoint presentation every single day. When do you get time to make these?” She shook her head. “No, I need a different sort of help.”
Odette nodded.
“Ah yes. Emotional support, or violence.”
“What?”
“Based on my research, the role of the maid of honour is fourty percent organising the wedding, thirty five percent providing emotional support, and twenty five percent acts of violence against the grooms family. (I know Charlie technically isn’t the groom, but still.)”
“I just…need some advice, I guess. Or to vent.” Vaggie told her sister about the strange conversation with Carmilla. Odettes brow furrowed.
“That is…peculiar. Mother does not usually engage in philosophical conversations about….well, anything.”
“She implied I don’t love my future wife! Or that she doesn’t love me!” Vaggie snapped. “Where does she get…”
There was a loud crash as the door to Odette’s room slammed open, and Clara came swaggering in.
Odette rolled her eyes.
“Must you always enter rooms like that?”
“Like a badass?” Clara asked.
“By kicking doors open!” Odette snapped.
“Sorry.” Clara said. “I couldn’t help but overhear my two baby sisters coming to a really stupid conclusion.”
“I’m older than you!” Vaggie said, indignantly. “And how’s it stupid?”
“You may be older, but I was adopted earlier, so technically i’m the big sister. ANYWAY.” She rolled her shoulders. “Vaggie, you do security. Odette, you do R&D. And i’m sure some of them give you skills in the real world. But I, my dear sisters, I do sales. And I’m very good at it. Now, you probably think that just comes from showing off my boobs….”
“You do do that a lot.” Odette piped up.
“Because I want to, not because I have to.” Clara replied. “But no. You know how you get good at sales? You learn how to figure out what people are ACTUALLY saying. Because even when they sound like they’re talking about you, they’re talking about themselves. And once you figure out that, the rest is easy. You get my drift?”
“No.” Vaggie and Odette said, in unison.
Clara sighed.
“Oddy, you’re the smart one. What is happening tonight that might have mama thinking more about the nature of true love?”
Odette’s eyes widened.
“Oh.” She said. “OH!”
“What’s going on?” Vaggie asked, as Odette sprinted towards her cupboard, and wheeled out a huge pinboard, full of photos and notes connected by multicoloured string. She pulled out a post-it note, frantically scribbling on it.
“What?” Vaggie said. “What is this?”
“For the past few years- decades even- mama and Zestial have been silently pining for each other. Oddy and I have been charting this through all the stages, from “will they won’t they” to “why don’t they” to our current one, which is “by all that is unholy, what is it going to take for them to hurry up and do it?”
“This is unhinged.” Vaggie said, looking at the pinboard. “Why is there a photo of Darth Vader on there?”
“Oh, I had a plan to start calling Mr Zestial Vader. Ostensibly because of his aesthetic.” Odette said. “However, in Middle-Low German, Vader actually means “Father.” I had hoped it would subconsciously influence him into feeling paternal feelings towards me, and, by extension, marital ones towards Mother.”
“This is unhinged.” Vaggie said again.
“Hey.” Said Clara. “I mean we’ve got to call him something. After all, mom’s probably going to be the one calling him “daddy..”
“You.” Odette said, without a hint of irony “Are the most repulsive person I have ever met.”
“Um, Zestial?” Carmilla said. “May I speak with you?”
Odette, Vaggie, and Clara exchanged excited looks and immediately started doing the dishes, leaving Zestial and Carmilla to their privacy. The Carmine house had thin walls.
“”Tis always a pleasure to speak to thee.” Zestial said. “Art thou well? Verily, thou wert reserved over dinner.”
Carmilla cleared her throat.
“Zestial. We’ve known each other a long time. And, um…. You make me feel safe, but excited. I know I can trust you with anything, good or bad, big or small.”
“Thou art a fine companion too, Carmilla.”
“Omigod omigod omigod it’s happening” Clara mouthed to Odette and Vaggie.
“And that, Zestial, is why I want to tell you. I….I L…I lo….I….lesbian. I am a lesbian, Zestial.”
Odette, Clara and Zestial looked at each other in silence.
“Booo.” Clara mouthed. “No offence, Vaggie.”
“Absolutely none taken.” Vaggie said, wincing in second hand embarrassment.
Zestial harrumphed.
“A lesbian? I see. Thou and half of hell, ‘twould seem.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Carmilla re-emerged.
“Hello, girls.” She said, glumly. “Take it you overheard all of that.”
“Most of it.” Clara admitted.
“Who could have predicted Zestial being a hom*ophobe.” Carmilla said. “Anyway. That’s fine. I just….won’t speak to him again.” Her face fell, slightly.
Vaggie coughed awkwardly.
“Mama. I….I don’t want to….you know. Invalidate your experiences. But, uhh…One lesbian to another? I’ve been thinking about what you asked me. About love. And I guess all I can say is. It’s scary. It’s very very scary. Hard, too. But you know it when you see it.”
Carmilla opened her voice to say something, but she was cut off by Zestial emerging from behind her.
“Carmilla.” He said. “Prithee, I cry you forgiveness, for mine reaction. ‘Twas unworthy of me.”
Carmilla looked at him for a long, long moment. And then the old warrior bowed her head, took a step closer to him, and slowly, haltingly, began to sing.
“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas
With ne’er a fear of drowning
And gladly ride the waves of life
If you will ride with me
No scorching sun or freezing cold…”
“WILL STOP ME ON MY JOURNEY!” Clara broke in a little too loudly, and everyone turned to look at her. “Sorry.” She said, sheepishly. Carmilla cleared her throat and went on.
“Will stop me on my journey
If you will promise me your heart
And lo….”
She cleared her throat.
“And lo…And….and….”
“And love me for eternity.” Zestial said.. He stepped forward, and took Carmilla’s hand.
“My dearest one, my darling dear.” He sang
“Your mighty words astound me.
But i’ve no need for mighty words
When I feel your arms around me.”
She pulled him into an embrace, her voice growing stronger, clearer.
“Oh I would give you rings of gold
I’d even sing you poetry
And I would keep you from all harm
If you would stay beside me.”
Zestial grinned.
“I have no use for rings of gold
I will not hear thy poetry
I only want your hand to hold
I only want you near me.”
They clasped hands.
“To love and kiss to sweetly hold
For the dancing and the dreaming
Through all life's sorrows and delights
I'll keep your laugh inside me
I'll swim and sail a savage seas
With ne'er a fear of drowning
And gladly ride the waves so life
And you will marry me”
