Chapter Twenty: Getting Answers

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I ripped the paper one more time from the sketch pad and started all over again. Once again, I had underestimated the difficulty of making a dress. Who would have thought that putting fabric together would be such a freaking hassle?

It was my second day with Greta as my roommate. If I could say anything so far, it was that the woman could cook. The apartment was filled with the smell of lasagna that Greta had just popped in the oven.

I started to erase the man-shoulders from the sketch I was working on. No matter how much I tried, the dress ended up looking like a huge blob on the page. I threw the pencil on the table with frustration, and walked into the kitchen. Living with Greta felt like living with my mom again.

"No luck?" She asked as she washed the dishes. I only sighed, which was response enough. We had gone clothes shopping earlier and now Greta wore a flowered print shirt with black pants. I hadn't even realized that her hair was blonde until she had showered and fully styled it that same morning.

"Well, you can always try again later." Greta tried to make me feel better. I was about to reply, but the ringtone on my phone decided to go off on full blast.

"Hello?" I answered irritably into the line.

"Lilly! I've been trying to reach you for ages, honey! What time will you be coming tomorrow?" My mother asked from the other side.

At first, I had no idea what she was talking about, and then it hit me.  Christmas was happening the next day.

"Well, we'll be there around eight. Does that sound alright?" I asked.

"We? Oh, Honey! Will you be bringing a boy? What's his name? Does he like turkey? I can always make something else if he doesn't-" My mother rambled on excitedly.

I coughed awkwardly from where I stood.

Actually, no mom, I'm bringing home the homeless bum that used to live beside my dumpster...

I wasn't about to say something like that in front of Greta.  How mean would it be if I just left to my parent's house for Christmas? Plus, I was almost sure that Greta would be the only sane person in the room. I shuddered at the thought of stuffing my face with turkey, while Minerva's pinched face stared at me from across the table. I definitely needed Greta for back-up.

"Actually, I meant my roommate. Her name is Greta. So, is eight fine?" I already wanted to hang up the phone.

"Oh," The disappointment in my mother's tone was unmistakable.

"Yes, eight is perfect!" She said with a bit more enthusiasm in her voice.

"Alright, talk to you tomorrow, Mom." I hung up the phone right after.

I sat down on one of the chairs close by with a sigh. My mom's prodding had reminded me of Joshua. I wondered what he was doing right now.

Was he with his family? Was he pigging out on junk food?

"You don't have to take me to your family's dinner, Dear. I'm perfectly fine here." Greta spoke as she pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

I only rolled my eyes, already used to Greta's denials.

"Shush, I'll help you set the table." I said, completely ignoring Greta's last statement.

"It's you I worry about, Greta. I'm not sure you can handle the Fensters..." I decided to say a minute after, with a wink.

Greta feigned horror, while she began to put the food into some plates.

I laughed, but inside I was actually really worried. I didn't know if I would be able to endure my mother's rambling, my awkward brother, and most importantly sour Minerva. I would be getting an opportunity, though. That dinner would be the perfect time for me to ask about the Red Beanie Bum.

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