Priscilla

S4 ⭒ Episode Nine

"Helen, honey, I've been stirring the potatoes like you told me to, I don't know where the coconut milk is."

"Well then someone fucking moved it!"

"Uncle Batsy, look what Papa made me. It's a balloon animal butterfly."

"That is very beautiful, Petal. Go show mumma. Go on. Thank you. Mother, if you are going to wave your arms around that way, put the knife down. You're going to hurt someone."

"Halen, I can't put it down I'm using it. I need to... I need to um... oh great heavens, what was I doing? Oh! I need it to cut the raspberries for Priscilla's drink, so move out of my way and I can dice some--ow! Fuck, I just burned myself. What the hell is this pan doing here?"

"Amma, look at my balloon butterfly. Isn't it so lovely?"

"That would be the pan that you left on the back burner empty. You turned on--"

"The back instead of the front, I remember now. Okay, well, could you move it for me please, Cordelia? Thank you so much. I'm just, I'm trying to make everyone drinks and balance dinner and--"

"It's okay. Yes. I've got it."

"Mum, wait, look at my balloon..."

"In a minute, Poppy."

"She didn't ask for a raspberry cocktail, mother."

"Who didn't?"

"Priscilla."

"Nonsense, she agreed to have a drink with us. It's Patrick's birthday. She ought to."

"She is only being polite. She would like a glass of water. Don't trouble yourself with cocktails. You're going to cut yourself and make an awful mess. You always do-"

"Halen Noelle Bates, I brought you into this world and I can take you out. If I can give birth in a lightning storm--"

"I can do anything." The whole room echoes.

"Exactly. Now Priscilla, sweetheart, don't you want a raspberry margarita?"

The constant squeaking from the birthday man in the corner making balloon party tricks, the bubbling of sauces, the clanking of pans, the crackle of the radio playing best eighties hits, the rice cooker squealing, Poppy's shoes tapping as she waits for her mothers attention, the buzzing stare of Paul-- it all finally slows and lows to a tolerable simmer and it feels like a spotlight has just been dropped onto me.

I blink, "Uhm..."

My attention is swayed when Cordelia guides Paul toward the otherside of the crowded room, bypassing me. We nearly brush shoulders.

He settles at a barstool with Cordelia and it's like he can't stop touching her, it makes me cringe.

Five minutes ago we all rushed to the kitchen when Helen's potato timer went off and since then, it's been chaos. But, the one constant is Paul's incessant need to have Cordelia close to him. It's like she's his possession.

He makes eye contact with me and like when he introduced himself to Halen and I earlier, he has a suffocating blue eyed glare of remembrance and guilt, but more importantly intimidation.

He knows me. He knows we both remember and he knows I'm not the kind of person to keep quiet.

But, I also know he's praying to God and the angels above that he can 'alpha male' his way out of this and keep his beat down victim quiet.

I may be now, but I won't be forever.

And he's not gaslighting me or anyone else in this room into thinking he's anything but horrible.