The sun set over the city skyline on a Thursday evening, as a gust of fresh, spring air wafted its way through the settling midtown streets. It would at least be getting warmer soon, Jeremy thought as he exited his car and stretched his legs. He stood motionlessly for a moment, allowing the breeze to grace his face, and observed it rustle through the leaves of a nearby green ash.
He thought he smelled something far more interesting than the simple spring air, however. He turned toward the gloomy building he was there to visit, assuming it to be the origin of the scent. It would have been almost a week since he'd been to the place, when he'd met the peculiar and reclusive daughter of Gomez and Morticia Addams, the equally peculiar people for whom he worked.
Upon some deliberation during the days since he'd first visited, Jeremy felt that Gomez and Morticia must have somehow known exactly what would have transpired between Jeremy and Wednesday when they'd initially sent him down here. They'd surely foreseen a strange, prickly tension between the two of them quickly changing into an exchange of shared experiences and an interest in one another's perspectives — that they'd hit it off, so to speak. It was all true, and Jeremy couldn't deny it.
In truth, his ambivalence about the entire situation was the only thing keeping him from returning sooner, as per Wednesday's invitation — the whole set-up angle which had precipitated everything still rubbed him the wrong way, a little.
At the same time, she had the same information that he did, and the whole thing didn't appear to bother her. Or perhaps it did — he supposed he'd find out shortly. Either way, he did find himself looking forward to seeing her again — he'd truly never spoken with anybody quite like her, and she had begun to intrigue him a lot, over their time apart.
It became necessary for him to quell the hint of rising nervousness within him by reminding himself that this wasn't actually a date, or anything.
Nevertheless, he checked his breath against his hand.
Climbing up the entry stairs, he puzzled at the front door, which had seemingly been left ajar. He gave a courteous knock while he gently pushed it all the way open and stepped inside.
"Hello?" he offered, shutting the door behind him.
Wednesday poked her head out from the kitchen, where she was behind the stove working on something.
"Hey," she called out with a frivolous nonchalance, as though they'd only just seen each other.
"Uh, hey!" he began to reply, "did— did you leave your door open by chance?" he asked, wandering into the kitchen with her.
"No," she smirked, "I saw you arrive," she gestured to a small, porthole-style window by the range-hood, overlooking the street. It must have been shuttered the last time he was here.
"Oh," he blushed, wondering whether she'd been observing him the entire time he was outside.
Wednesday seemed to notice his embarrassment, and silently giggled.
"I'm making natural candles," she said, breaking the tension.
"Oh," he observed, "yeah, I was gonna ask — I caught the fragrance from out on the street."
Wednesday wore a pair of thick, rubber cleaning gloves, and she was stirring a steaming mixture inside of a quaint, miniature cauldron set up over a bunsen burner.
She deftly shook the liquid wax off of the stirring rod and held it under Jeremy's nose.
"What do you smell?" she queried.
He took it in. "Um... I mean, it smells, like, woody, I suppose?"
"That's in the ballpark," she smiled. "It's rose, oud, and vetiver," she explained.
YOU ARE READING
A Crossbow Aimed at the Heart
FanfictionA 21 year old Wednesday Addams has moved away from her parents (on their dime) in an attempt to find some independence, however they are concerned that she has taken the opportunity to become a shut-in. Under the guise of an audit, Gomez and Mortici...
