Days turned into weeks, and into months. Livia wasn't keepin' her hostage by any means, but her body might as well be chaining itself to the bedpost. It's her eight month of pregnancy and she's the biggest she's ever been, and so terribly sad. With Silas Ochre she'd been a spritely seventeen year old, malnourished but still easily reinvigorated. Holly May's support has also been indispensable. She'd taken her in and helped her, no questions and no reservations on it. They were family now, that was that. But now she's so busy with her new job and it's demanding schedule, Lucy Gray can hardly ever see her.
Even when she does, it's like she's been hypnotized or something. Every bad word Lucy Gray utters about why they're here or the man who brought them is rebutted, every complaint minimized. It's as though she's speaking to a stranger. According to her, she was just being dramatic. She should be happy she's going to be a mother again, with medical assistance this time. That he was just doing what he thought was best for them all, and to not be so harsh on him. That we've all done things for our loves that are extreme, herself included.
Livia is an extraordinarily gracious host, so much so it's...unnerving. She understands feeling identified with the only other woman, person, who truly knows who Snow is. But her treatment of her is almost too nice. Feels a little too sweet to be savory. Lucy Gray figures she just feels bad for her circumstances and wants to make up for it, but something doesn't feel right in her gut. Like there's still something being kept from her. Holly May will of course support any and all criticisms of Livia, so she airs on the side of quick answers and silence when she's asked about her by Holly May now.
She refuses to speak to Ms.Hayes now, feeling betrayed and duped by her and only letting her help her with her everyday necessities. She knows she was just doing as she was told, but she can't let it go. Considering that hasn't changed for her, and she's still employed by Snow, she's been given no reason to trust her again. For all intents and purposes, she's his connection to Lucy Gray and the less she knows, the less she can tell him. If it's not about Silas Ochre or the babies, he has no right to know.
Silas Ochre comes to see her everyday, sweet boy he is, and that's the only time she feels seen and loved again. He asks about his little siblings, about how she's feeling, what she's thinking about, what he can do to help her. She answers his questions with as much tact and propriety for his age as she can, refusing to burden his still developing shoulders with the weight of her very niche, very adult problems. She didn't want to make him feel out of the loop or condescended to, but she couldn't let him know she's been feelin' weak as a kitten and lonely and stupid. It's not his job at twelve to care for his mother, it was her job to protect him. On one level or another, she knew she'd failed. July had come around and it had sent her spiraling, for obvious reasons.
He'd witnessed it all, and finally found out why she'd always had so many nightmares.
So she tries to steer the subjects onto things she's happy to talk about. What he's learning in his tutoring lessons, what new sports or athletics he's trying this week, his new braces, or how tall he's getting and now nostalgic it makes Lucy Gray for the days she could hold his entire little body in her thin arms with ease. But no matter what, they avoid the subject of his father all together.
"So is my...stepmom still being all nice?" He asks, amused by his own word-choice as he sits at the foot of her bed.
This takes Lucy Gray aback, he'd never asked about Livia before.
"I'd hardly refer to her as your 'stepmom', baby." She responds
"Eh, pretty soon she won't legally be anything to me. War ain't got shit on their lawyers in the courtroom, so it'd seem." He chuckles "But my question stands. Livia still walks on water 'n all that?"
"Yeah, yes. She's a very good hostess, especially one who can't take her guest anywhere." She gestures at her very large stomach.
"Right then, tell me if that changes. I'd hate for you to have to deal with all that muck on your own." He insists
