s h e

chapter four

When Thanksgiving is four days away, Winnie starts to clam up again. She skips a shift at Minnie's, claiming she's 'sick'. Considering Winnie loves working at the diner, as it's a chance for her to get to know new people, something big must be up with her.

She's been stress-baking again, and the flat is filled with tantalizing scents of brownies, cakes, pies, and muffins. You don't particularly mind, since Winnie's a great cook, even though you have to supervise to make sure she doesn't burn down the building. She's managed to set the cabinets on fire before, so you aren't about to take any chances. She's also been marathoning a lot of cartoons (mostly Scooby-Doo and Young Justice, with a few episodes of Danny Phantom scattered here and there), and she hasn't changed out of her Grinch pajama bottoms and her oversized Garbage t-shirt.

One morning, you overhear her inside her room, playing the guitar. It's some mournful Ed Sheerhan song, and halfway through it she stops, breathing heavily, before letting out a string of muffled sniffles.

"Winnie?" You open the door to find the emotional blonde with her arms around the dog, sobbing into Lambeau's fur. He doesn't look too upset, though, as he licks the tears off the girl's cheeks and nuzzles her neck. She looks up, wiping her watery eyes, before plastering on the biggest beam to ever stretch across her face.

"I'm fine, Melly, just tired." It's a fake smile, you know that, but it looks so real that you have to wonder.

How many of these faux grins have you received over the years?

How many have you believed?

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Meanwhile, you're dealing with your own kind of drama.

"No, Mom, I'm not coming home for Thanksgiving. Yes, I'm aware you literally live a five hour drive away. I have plans. Mom, Mickey'll be home. I work two jobs and we just adopted a puppy, he's a full time responsibility. Mom, Winnie and I are just friends, don't bring her into this. Yes, I'll come home eventually. Love you too, bye." You hang up on your mother. Lambeau cocks his head to the right, nosing your hand so you'll pet him. You sigh, giving into the stupid dog's desire for attention.

It's not as if you don't love your family, because you do. What you said to your mother does ring true. Lambeau is taking up most of your free time. But Winnie's behavior hasn't let up, and it's already been twenty-four hours, and your mother won't fucking let go of the fact that you're not coming home.

So you do what you've always done in these situations, the ones where you can't understand Winnie's behavior and you're overwhelmed because it's all too much.

You call Talia.

"Hey, Mel, what's up?"

"Tals, she's crying and I don't know why and she won't let me in and I can't deal with this right now and I-"

"Mels, take it easy!" She interrupts, a hint of amusement at your rambling in her voice. "Look, it's Thanksgiving in a few days. She's probably just stressed."

"Stressed? About what?" You frown, confused. Talia exhales in frustration.

"Her family, the assholes. They've put all these ideas in her head about how she's not good enough and she's too weird and... Well, you know how insecure she is, Mels, the girl can't even put on a bikini without having a meltdown. Her parents are emotionally abusive at the best of times and she probably doesn't want to go home for the holidays, which won't go over well with her folks. Call her sister, she's on the road with a couple friends, I think, but she's always been the diplomat in the family. And Melly?"

You swallow at the new information before you reply with, "Yeah?"

"Just... Be careful with her, okay? She dialed me up last year when they got too bad and she was a mess. This year... I can't even imagine how awful they are."