The Woe We Deserve

Chapter 31

"What's wrong with your hair?" Wednesday asked.

Xavier flashed her a panicked look and patted his head, checking for whatever imperfection she was referring to.

"Why is it so... neat?"

Xavier heaved a sigh of relief, and followed it with a look of annoyance in her direction. "You scared me."

"Are you wearing hair gel?" she continued.

"It's mousse actually," he bit back.

Wednesday leaned closer and sniffed his hair, finally placing the familiar smell. "Enid's?"

"Maybe."

Wednesday wanted to laugh hysterically at the idea of Enid doing Xavier's hair, but as the unmistakable Addams' hearse grew nearer, Xavier didn't even seem to remember she was making fun of him. He gnawed on a nail nervously and self-consciously straightened out his button-down shirt, which looked suspiciously wrinkle-free.

Wednesday tugged his hand away from his mouth and gave it a little squeeze. "They'll love you." Then after a pause, she added. "I love you."

He took a deep breathe and returned the squeeze, the nervous expression replaced by a lopsided smile. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing those words.

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Despite some initial awkwardness, Wednesday was appalled (and relieved) to find she had been right all along; Xavier and her parents got along swimmingly. He was every parent's dream: polite, well-spoken, kind. He addressed them both as 'ma'am' and 'sir' until they begged him to just call them by their names. And he delighted them with stories about his many years at Nevermore, and all the fond memories he had created there. And her parents were eating it up.

She could hardly stand it. But it was worth the smile on Xavier's face. There hadn't been many opportunities for his face to light up lately.

That's why where she saw him lurking in the shadows across the courtyard, it took every ounce of self-restraint to calmly excuse herself and slip away unnoticed.

Vincent Thorpe tried to back away without drawing any attention to himself, but it had taken him too long to spot her, and she was almost by his side when he started his retreat.

Wednesday allowed him to walk further into the empty halls, away from the laughter and chatter in the courtyard. She could still see her parents in the distance, but she doubted they could make them out in the dark corner where they stood.

She was about to bark something heinous at him, tell him he deserved the award for worst father of the year, when Xavier's voice stopped her. He had somehow managed to sneak up on both of them.

"Wednesday. Don't."

She sighed, and turned her back on Mr. Thorpe. She would kill to let him have a piece of her mind, but it was Xavier's battle to fight. As she walked past him, he brushed his pinky against her hand as a sign of gratitude.

"Tell your parents I'll be right there."

"Take as long as you need." She shot daggers with her eyes at the older Thorpe before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the crowd of Nevermore families.

"So that's the new girlfriend, huh?"

Xavier mirrored Wednesday's expression. "That's Wednesday. You know her name."

"I take it she's not a fan..." Vincent was trying to be self-deprecating, Xavier assumed, but he was in no mood to joke around with his dad. In fact, he didn't recall ever joking around with his dad, period.

"Nobody is a big fan of you right now," Xavier said, poison in his voice. "Not even your fans would be if they found out all you've done. Not to mention whatever is in that envelope."

"Xavier," Vincent hissed. "Not here."

"Not here. Not now. Not ever. Right, dad? Don't want people to know America's favorite psychic is a piece of shit."

Vincent sighed and pressed his hands firmly into his temples. It was comically similar to the way he posed when he was being an on-stage psychic and having a big breakthrough. "Son—"

"Call me Xavier."

"Son," he said more firmly. "I came to tell you in person...that I'm sorry. And I made sure that... that man is no longer your concern—or Wednesdays. I know I can't undo my betrayal, but I did what I could to fix it.

Xavier felt relief washing over him, but he refused to give his father the satisfaction of knowing that. He also didn't want to know how he had 'fixed it'. So he maintained his stony expression and gave him the smallest nod he could manage. "Tyler?"

"He jumped at the chance of getting far away from here. He's free again—for now."

"Great. Are we done? I'm sure there's a plane you need to catch, or autographs to be signed or secrets to be buried—"

Vincent took a deep breath, then reached into the inside pocket of his tailored jacket. He handed Xavier the same dirty envelope that he had seen in his vision. Xavier's anger melted and morphed into confusion.

"What's this?"

"Do whatever you want with it. Give it to the paparazzi if you want. If... if it gets me even a step closer to your forgiveness—and Wednesday's."

Xavier watched his father, speechless. The envelope felt heavy in his hands. He shoved it quickly into his back pocket, as if scared its contents would spill out all over the floor.

"I know I'm overstaying my welcome, so I'll let you go. Get back to your future family."

Xavier stomach dropped. Was it possible to be even more speechless? He forced the words out just in time, as Vincent was beginning to turn away.

"You knew?" That felt like an even greater betrayal.

"I've known for years. It's how I knew you'd both be okay," he explained sheepishly. He didn't wait for a response from his son before turning away again. Exiting their conversation as easily as he always exited Xavier's life.

Xavier stood motionless for another minute. The envelope in his back pocket growing heavier by the second, just like his heart.

When he looked back at the chaos of families in the courtyard, he caught Wednesday staring at him; she'd been watching them the whole time.