Red's Family Diner

Chapter 3

November 15th, 1957

Moving was hard for the two, Wilbur had to toss out a box of old winter baby clothes for the sake of himself. He even gifted Maddie the small hard box—the two drove off to a storage unit to try to make Edith's old stuff be in a single location and place. The attic of their new Florida home. When they arrived in Florida off of the airport, Nova greeted the two once more. The only sad and disheartening part was Nova seeing no little Edith alongside them. In fact-she watched her 'brother' die from the inside out. His small spark was gone. Nova saw the same man who found out his father had been killed in the War. Nova helped them unpack and load their stuff in, hoping this meant a new start for the mourning couple. She even begged Glam to give them a welcome gift into the neighborhood—however, they saw nothing coming out of their benefit from it. Why try to reconcile a mourning family if you weren't so close to beginning with—only having talked over a phone for business and nothing else? Though Glam had found it strange with how still Wilbur had been—especially with the now more in-person meetings the 3 had.

November 21st, 1957

Maddie Beloved —

Nova had been kind throughout our entire move and I enjoyed her attempts to cheer us up. But there was nothing to even make Wilbur budge. Nova compared this depressive state of his similar to his meltdown in his early years of college felt like deja vu. It was horrible—and she was right. Even in the bedroom, he wouldn't be himself. He'd stare into the ceiling of our new home and whisper incomprehensible words. He wouldn't even curl himself next to me, it was weird. It only got weirder whenever he came back from his meetings holding a briefcase of items, sitting down at the dining room table and sighing. The first sign of life I've heard from him almost made my worries die down. "Rough day?" I'd holler from the kitchen, hearing him approach. I'd turn my head around to spot him slowly undoing his tie, clear eye bags clogging his clear face. He hasn't been shaving recently so a slight shag of facial hair grew. "Hasn't it always?" He responded, taking me by surprise as I turned myself completely around. Placing my hands on his face as he shut his eyes momentarily. He was rather cold despite it being 78 degrees outside—and pale.

"Have you been eating the small meals I gave you?" I cried, my hands moving to touch his forehead to expect him only to catch a sickness. But felt nothing but cold. He didn't respond, so I asked again. "Wilbur." I started as he opened his eyes, his soft purple eyes had turned dull and plain. "No, I haven't. I haven't been eating or drinking since we've moved. It's..." he started before pausing, he looked ready to cry once more as I already knew the reason why he began this fasting. "Wilbur, sweetie—honey...Starving yourself won't...bring her back." I spoke, gritting my teeth as his face reacted. "It will! I swear! She's still alive Maddie, you have to believe it!" He lashed, pulling away from my embrace as his tired eyes resisted the urge to cry. "Why!—You look at me like I'm on my deathbed! I don't—I don't know how to live without her, she was our sun. Why are you so fine about this!" He shouted, his hands expressing his resentment as I tried to take a calmer approach. "Honey—I'm upset about this all too, hell she was amazing and I saw how much you loved the poor girl but...she's dead and there's nothing we can do about it," I whispered, shutting my eyes halfway hoping to not see him jump instantly onto his emotions. He paused. Before his lip quivered he collapsed into a smaller state and cried. He released it all once again, soaking the pink apron as I coaxed him. "Here, let me make us some dinner so you can stop looking so dead okay?" I reassured, stroking the hair behind his horns to relieve him a bit. He pushed himself off me again as he nodded and left the kitchen. He clearly had no more energy to rebut anymore.

Dinner was served (more like leftovers from Nova's lunch) and I poured the two of us some wine. I undid the apron to show off my house clothing—practically just a white tee and jeans with a little head rag on top of my head. I involuntarily cleaned the house to resist the mournful mood of sitting forever in this home. I sat down as I watched Wilbur approach, already wearing his after-work clothes of just his gray top and as well, jeans. His hair had been recently losing its natural blonde, and I could tell it hadn't been a bother to him since it reminded him a little too much of his past. But before Edith, he had another hurdle. He could overcome and jump this one right? We ate in silence, sipping the wine in the stillness gave an awkward tension. More of my own heart sounding louder than anything else. Wilbur glanced up every now, watching me eat as he averted his attention. It drove me mad, and it happened every time we shared a meal. This time, I snapped.