The Artist's Wife (BWWM)

Chapter 29~ Long

Okay, I was going, to be honest by saying that I've met quite a lot of strange, eccentric people in my life but none quite like our host, Beatrice's younger sister, Evie.

My first impression of the middle-aged woman was one for the history books; she met up with us in the enormous library dressed in one of the oddest assortment of clothes I've ever seen on a modern-day aristocrat. It simply wasn't normal.

She was clad in blue pants that looked like they had spent quite some time at the thrift store before finally being picked up, a yellow frock coat that looked like something out of a middle school play and several layers of hippie beads hung around her neck. But the weirdest part of the whole attire was her muddy feet which were slipped into bright, neon pink flip flops.

She stared at me for a full minute with her jade eyes which eerily resembled Gerard's before opening her mouth and talking in what Gerard later explained to me was Russian.

"English, aunt Evie, English. Karina only speaks English," Gerard informed, hardly tearing his eyes away from his phone. He had been on a call earlier on our way in here and was currently texting.

"English?" She blinked, her big eyes creeping me out for a moment. I realized that this was who Gerard got those bright eyes from, not even his mom, his mom's eyes were nothing compared to these two.

I nodded in affirmative, studying her short, auburn, grey streaked hair which hung around her face like a dark cloak. It stood out so distinctly from her pale face. "Yes, ma'am. Just English."

"Which type of English?" She asked warily.

I opened my mouth, wondering how to reply when Gerard spoke up again. "She's from the States."

"Ah, I see," the queer lady murmured. "I suppose you don't know which came first between the chicken and the egg?" She moved closer, her beads clanging noisily. Her face showed genuine curiosity at my answer to her strange question, again I was confused.

"Huh?"

I heard Gerard sigh softly before feeling his arms wrap around my waist from the back, in a somewhat possessive gesture. I leaned into him, inhaling that sweet combination of scents he always seemed to wear. He tightened his hold on me, dragging me even closer.

"The cycle is endless," Gerard said, burying his face into my hair. "Also, did you stop using your pills again, aunt?"

"I didn't!" She protested, indignantly.

"Are you lying?"

"Yes, I flushed them down the drain but you won't tell that awful doctor will you, honey?" She pouted, tears quickly filling up her big, jade eyes. "Those things make me have horrible nightmares."

She was sobbing with slow tears dripping down her pale, chalky white face now while Gerard just stared at her as if uninterested by her little antics. I was a bit concerned but he didn't seem the least bit moved.