"Still, you know that even if this doesn't work out, you'll always have us. This house is big enough for all of us, after all."
Tabby folded another pair, finding one of Mark's pairs and then tossing it unerringly over her shoulder into his basket. How she did it I never could understand, she's terrible at basketball, but hand her a pair of socks or a wad of paper to toss into a trashcan, and she could hit it blind around a corner with three bounces off the wall more often than not. "Even after your daughter comes? You really want a bipolar sex-starved young woman as one of her role models?"
I dropped my sock and took her chin in my hand, turning her to me. “Well lets get it right. You're not bipolar, Tabby. A bit shaken up by a master asshole, yeah, I'll give you that. But you're far too strong for that to drive you over the edge."
Tabby looked deep into my eyes, then smiled, her fears reassured.
* * *
That night, after Tabby had retreated to her room to have her phone call with Patrick, Mark and I were in the gym, cleaning up the mats after our workout. After putting Tabby though her paces, the two of us had gone to work with the long staffs, a new traditional weapon for me. Then again, Mark's technique wasn't classical, adapted more for the ad-hoc weapons he might have had to use. As I mopped the mats with a mix of bleach and water, I told him about the conversation Tabby and I had earlier.
"That's good," he said at the end. "I was actually thinking about that a few days ago, after Tabby helped me that night after the whole thing with Mistress Blood's."
"What do you mean?”
"I was thinking that maybe the rest of Mount Zion could use some renovation. Maybe in the future that old mental ward can be torn down for a new house to be put up, or maybe this place can be expanded. Two complete living quarters housed within their own wings or something. That is, if Tabby is willing to stay our neighbors or even in the same house as us. I've kind of come to find her as irreplaceable as you do. What do you think?"
"It's something to consider," I replied. Thinking of something Tabby had said in our conversation, I laughed. "Sure you’re be willing to put up with a bunch of crazy women?”
Mark laughed and nodded. "Of course. But I did have a question, something you said. If you'd like I could ask Tabby though."
"What's that?"
"You said that we treated her better than her family did. What did she mean?"
"Tabby went through a phase of bisexuality in her early years. Her parents didn't exactly take well to it. She never gave me all the details, but from what I gathered when we were undergrads, her father worried more about how his daughter's reputation would hurt his business more than how his attitude hurt his daughter. It wasn't like they disowned her or anything, but he was clearly disapproving of the whole thing. I think he was kind of happy to have her coming up north for college, since she'd be far enough away that she couldn't cause a scandal back home, and that was why he paid for her schooling without any questions at all. Tabby's mother was in her own passive aggressive way worse about it, from the little I ever interacted with her. A lot of snippy comments and just kind of a saccharine worry. Anyway, by the time we were seniors, it seemed like she was only interested in men, but the damage was already done and things were said that could never be forgotten. Have you ever noticed her on the phone with them?"
Mark set his materials aside and thought for a moment. "Nope, never have. I always thought she just used Skype or something and wanted her privacy. I mean, you try explaining to your parents that you're living with your best friend and her husband, who happen to be us. That'd freak out even the most permissive of parents."
"That's true, but in all honesty, I think you and I are about the closest thing she has to family. Not that I'm opposed to that or anything."
Mark picked up his oiling rag and little squeeze bottle of heavy duty synthetic motor oil and went back to lubricating the equipment. "Neither am I. In fact, I might just pay a visit to her potential new boyfriend if he's a dick. He'll find out Tabby's brother-in-law is a real bastard."
"Just think what our daughter is going to be like." I was touched by the term Mark had used to refer to Tabby, but kept my praise to myself. "Her boyfriends are going to be scared stiff of you."
Moving on to the leg press machine, Mark hummed. "Nah, won't be needed. If she's anything like her mother and father, her boyfriends will be smart enough not to try and screw with her. Or else."
Chapter 8
Tabby
The next day, I was in my office when Vanessa knocked on my door. "Miss Williams?"
"I swear Vanessa, if you don't start calling me Tabby I'm not buying lunch for you any longer," I countered, setting my pen aside and looking up. "Seriously though, what can I do for you?"