Darling & Foster

Twenty-One

"Do you like Clint?"

"No."

Noel gave me a flat look, grabbed my hair and started nervously braiding it from my side. I didn't say anything.

"Well, what about Foster?" My eye darted to her and she lifted an eyebrow. There was a brief silence. I didn't know what the right answer was.

So I said, "I don't know. We kissed once, I think he meant it, I think I did too." I meant it a lot.

And then she didn't say anything. She kept braiding, slower this time and made the comment, "I like your hair." And that was it. I reached for her fingers and made them stop twisting my hair. She looked up from her creation, frowned, and went up to stand facing me.

"Darla.. Let me tell you something, something important." She smiled softly and placed part of her hand on my whole hand, resting both on my knee. Meeting my eyes the whole time, she reminded me of what a mother should act like.

"Okay."

"Yes, Foster came back. but... Fiona didn't." Her lips twitched and she removed her hand from mine. No more comfort. Only truth. 

"You mean.. you think he had something to do with her disappearance?" Death. My mouth pursed and I squinted my eyes. I wanted to look confident, and skeptical to the point of extremes. But I wasn't skeptical. I was afraid. I was afraid of the things she was implying and the truth of those things. I wanted to tell Noel that it was proposterous to assume those things, but it wasn't. It wasn't at all.

"Maybe, Darla, a strong maybe. You're too fragile, honey. But Lilian, she can take it. She's used to wild guys with tempers. Her and Foster, they're a good match. They fit and they've fit for a long time." She looked comforting again, her hand returned to mine, the whole thing, and she hugged me. I didn't speak. And then she patted my back like I'd just had a bad breakup. I heard her sigh softly. The girl's name was Lilian. That's really pretty. She looks like a Lilian. Her and Foster? They're a good fit? Yes. Yes, I'll believe that. They're a good fit. "It was a pity kiss, Darla," she whispered, her words muffling, but still attributing coherent sound. Her head was on my shoulder. A pity kiss. Is that what that was. That made sense, I guess. Yes, that made sense.

Pity.

She pulled away, I could see a small fleck of a tear on her chin, "Oh, Darla, you're such a sweet girl, don't you worry. You don't need a guy like that around. If I were you, I would break the ties. Leave him alone for a while, you know." Noel made some good points, but I didn't hear them over the echoing silence. I wasn't sad. I was just disappointed. Discouragingly disappointed.

A pity kiss, Darla. A fucking pity kiss.