Bitter A Prequel: the Marjorie and Siobhan Backstory

Sunday With the Serpents

Marjorie had been surprised by how well things had seemed to go this week, and she had even allowed herself to get excited about getting to spend a whole day with Siobhan. She still worried about what her stepfather might be planning, but she wasn't about to let it spoil her time with her friend.

Marjorie had never been to a Sunday service like this before. Her dad had taken her to mass a few times, but even that had seemed foreign to her. Her mother didn't believe in a higher power. Well not the kind Siobhan's father was talking about. She thought it was nonsense. Marjorie thought it was kind of nice to think about.

After the services Marjorie was ushered back to the car by her mother. "I will never understand why all these people buy into this nonsense. I better not catch you spouting any of it." She knew better. She remembered the arguments that would occur any time her father brought up God or religion.

As they pulled in at the Serpents' family home, she nearly expected her mother to start going on about how poor they were. She was surprised when she stayed silent, but truthfully from the outside it looked like they had more than what Marjorie's family had just a few months ago.

Charles Van Gould was less impressed, but he wasn't here for that. Marjorie feared what the real reason might be, and if it would lose her the friendship she valued so much. He rapped on the door loudly and with authority.

When they were inside Marjorie tried to scurry off with Shibby, but was gripped hard on the shoulder and reminded to act accordingly or there would be consequences. Oddly, Charles intervened. "Aileen, let the girl go. We are here to enjoy ourselves."

She knew her mother wouldn't like that and certainly would not let her go unpunished for it, but for the moment she was free. She and Shibby ran off to her room and were free of their parents.

Sam took the time to introduce his wife to Charles and Aileen before inviting Charles into the lounge. He had spent more then half their wages procuring the finest bottles of bourbon, gin, and scotch he could afford. He spoke with a false bravado. "Charlie, pick your poison."

"Sam, no one has called me Charlie since I was about ten, and I am a scotch man."

Sam felt like a child being chastised. But he certainly wasn't going to let on. This was his chance, and he was gonna take it. "Charles, you know I don't want to be forward, but we really could be beneficial to each other."

"Funny you should say that, Sam, I think I could find you useful as well."