Cadaverous Love

Chapter Fourty

•Emily's Perspective•

"Well, don't you look gorgeous, Candy?" Mama smiles at me, her fingers ruffling through the pink fringes on my skirt, her face caressed by gentle brown waves and eyes colored the hazel of the everglades.

"So do you, mama," I press my hands to the blush in her cheeks, "you always do."

"That's very sweet of you to say," mama takes my hands in hers, "I guess that's why Candy is the perfect nickname for you, because you're sweet and cute as gumdrop." She kisses the tip of my nose before getting to her feet.

The door behind her creaks open and a bright smile seems to have lit up the dark entry way that is home to a plethora of peeling wallpaper and splintering wood, "good morning, lovely ladies," dad steps into the room, wearing a light blue dress-shirt to match the color of his eyes, "you ready to go, Emily?" He asks. I smile and nod, happy to be going out for breakfast with my dad. We never go anywhere fancy, but I always see the waitress at the diner smile when we come in wearing our worn out Sunday bests.

Brooke leans in the doorway behind dad, her hair frizzed and eyes tired.

"Are mama and Brooke going this time?" I ask, hopping up onto my bed, clicking the heels of my shoes together and running my hands over the soft fabric of my favorite teddy bear.

"Not today, little one," mama says, "I need to stay home to take care of your big sister, she's not feeling too well."

"Oh," I smile up at dad and the way his smile brightens up the darkest of corners and the way Brooke looks so beautiful all of the time- even with frizzy hair and tired eyes.

"Look at us," mama smiles her big smile, the one that brings tears of joy to your eyes, "look at what a beautiful, happy family we are."

--

"Emily," someone whispers violently, shaking my shoulder, "Emily, get up! Morgan is going to be here soon, you bum." I blink my eyes open to see a frantic Ponyboy in front of me. I sit up on the couch and try desperately to blink the haze away from my eyes.

"Ponyboy, will you just calm down, kid?" Two-Bit asks as he sits down by my feet, a can of beer in each hand, "I really don't think Morgan cares if the house is clean or not."

"But I care," Pony mutters angrily, sauntering off into the kitchen.

"Jeez," Two says, "I don't think I've ever seen that kid so stressed about anything." I nod and try to rub away the stiffness in my neck. "So what happened to you, girly? What did you do to that hand?"

"I punched a mirror," I say flatly, which is somehow funny to Two-Bit.

"You," he laughs, "you punched a mirror?" I nod, "well, that's about seven years of bad luck for ya."

"Sure," I reply quietly, "it didn't look like my luck was going to be turning around anytime soon anyways."

"Aren't you one negative Nelly," he pops open a can of beer and chugs it, letting out a long belch shortly afterwards, "say, you know where Dally is?"

Shaking my head no, I turn to look out the window, the cold draft that's blowing in nipping at the tip of my nose. Out of the corner of my vision I see a man dragging his feet and he might as well be dragging those bags under his eyes as well. He starts walking up the frost-kissed lawn and then I recognize him.

"Holy hell," I mutter, "Dallas looks like the undead."

Two-Bit strains his neck to look out the window because of my statement, "maybe he should try out for a role on the Twilight Zone."