Lenna Livingstone stormed upstairs to her room and threw herself on her canopy bed. From below, her sisters could hear her burning rage blazing and finally turning into warm embers.
Audrey felt guilty (guiltier for the person who had to mop the floors judging from the mud staining her boots). Was this what guilt felt like? It was like a weight was dumped on her heart or a sort of rope tightening her vessels, making everything seem so tight. Audrey didn't seem to like guilt at all.
"We're sorry about Lenna," Deborah bit down on her lip.
"She's just got a nasty temper," Candace murmured. "The poor girl's just-"
There was an awkward silence and Candace finally cleared her throat and led Audrey into the kitchen where the woman named Prudence already sat on the table and began jotting down notes on a scrap of newspaper.
"Isn't that the Chicago Sun Times Christmas Edition?" Candace pointed out.
"I ran out of paper again," Prudence replied flatly without look in away from her notes. "And I'm not going to risk writing on the walls anymore."
Deborah sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "S'alright, P. We'll get you another notebook when we stop by the paper shop tomorrow."
"W-what happens tomorrow?" Audrey asked.
"Laundry day," Prudence said, furiously scratching away a whole paragraph in her small, illegible print.
"Speaking of laundry," Deborah continued, "we've got a few rules in this house if you're gonna stay here, Audrey."
Audrey gulped. She was never the type to deliberately break the rules, nor was she the type to not break any neither. But she was ready to appreciate the rules the Livingstones were about to tell her.
"Now that you're in our house, doesn't mean you can laze around," Deborah said. "Rule One: We work hard in this family; do your chores."
She waited for Audrey to give her response. When she nodded, Deborah proceeded.
"Rule Two: We'll respect your presence if you respect ours.
Rule Three: Don't force any of us to do something we don't want to."
Candace continued the list of rules. "Rule Four: No men. Except for the Consulate."
"Who's the-"
"Rule Five: Any ideas are welcome here, so we'll listen in if you do too.
Rule Six: Please, don't drive our tempers. Especially Lenna's."
Audrey shuffled in her seat. Deborah leaned closer and gave her a grim look before informing her of the final rule.
"Last Rule: Whatever you do, do not go to the second-floor room next to the attic stairs." They all glared at Audrey, anticipating her reply.
Audrey gave them a terrified nod. The last rule only drove a queer curiosity that asked her: what was in the second-floor room next to the attic stairs? Yet, Audrey knew better than to meddle with their trust.
"Questions?" Candace grinned.
"Who's the Consulate? Why can't you let men in the house? What's on the second-floor room next to the attic stairs?"
Deborah nearly choked on a Pop Tart. "I've never met anyone who asked me more than one question at a time."
"Lucky for us, I've known someone who asked me six questions at a time," Candace conferred.
"The Consulate is someone from the government that comes over to our house to make sure that our family is politically okay because..."
"We're not actually a biological family," Prudence continued, dotting an 'i' on the newspaper.
Candace threw her a black look. "Thank you, Prudence. And I suppose this can answer your second question, " she gestured to a framed bit of paper to her right.
THE LIVINGSTONE DECLARATION
"I still can't read," said Audrey, carefully identifying each letter of the alphabet.
Candace cleared her throat as to make a speech. "The Livingstone Declaration states that we, seven women from seven different families, are officially declared as a legal family under the surname Livingstone. Which makes us all sisters, except for Faith; she's more like a mother figure to us."
"Who's-"
"As for the last question," Candace muttered darkly, "we'd like to suggest that you do not try to visit the room at any costs. Moreover, questions about it are highly prohibited to be spoken of as well."
Audrey restrained her tongue from letting another question slip out of her mouth. She pressed her lips together and nodded ferverently.
"Good," Candace smiled. "If so, Esta and Tara will take you to your room and you can go freshen up."
Esta and Tara stood up in unison and swooped in to grab Audrey by the arms. They dragged her up the stairs, into a citrus-scented corridor and in front of a polished white door with a silver doorknob mirroring their images.
"This is my room?" Audrey quivered.
Esta said something in sign-language and Audrey relinquished from their grip. She sheepishly rubbed the skin of her arm and grimaced.
"Sorry, I don't understand."
Esta groaned and sharply pointed at the door and prodded Audrey's chest. It was then that Audrey finally understood that this would be her room. Tara pointed at a white door and imitated the action of showering.
That must be the bathroom.
Esta and Tara trudged down the stairs to leave Audrey to clean herself up. When their identical heads disappeared down the steps, Audrey peered over to the far end of the room. A locked door loomed hauntingly next to the attic stairs; unsurprisingly, Audrey felt herself drifting to the other end of the corridor-
Only to be stopped by a bitter-faced Lenna.
"Where are you going?" she pressed.
"Sorry that walking is a crime in this house," Audrey quipped.
"Don't cheek with me, Cowgirl," she snarled in return, making Audrey cower under her shadow. "The bathroom is that way and you should be listening because I'm not going to tell you again."
Lenna stormed off, slamming her door shut before she gave Audrey a nasty glare. When Lenna joined the others down the stairs, Audrey crept back to her door. There was now way she was going to risk going to the other end of the hall with these seven girls on her tail.
Opening her closet, she was surprised that there were clothes in her size. Were they expecting her or was this some sort of a coincidence? They all looked clean though; Audrey drew out a cream-colored shirt and a denim pinafore and turned the silver knob out of her frangipani-smelling room.
Making her way into the bathroom, Audrey stopped dead.
She had never been in a bathroom before, neither did she know how to operate a shower. Back in Ohio, Audrey would simply soak in the rain or dunk herself into the river. She didn't even use shampoo!
Audrey hung up the clothes on a hanger stuck to the door and slipped herself out of her clothes. As the frigid air touched her bare skin, she shivered. One foot after the other, Audrey positioned herself right below the shower head. As if expecting water to cascade down on her magically, Audrey shut her eyes and pressed her lips together. Opening one eye, she looked around, looking for something to turn the water on. Maybe there was a doorbell too, this time to call for the water. But there was no doorbell, there was only the glass panes of the shower stall and a sort of tap.
Of course, she groaned internally.
She pulled the tap upwards and screamed when boiling-hot water came down on her in such a force and drove her to the corner of the stall. Audrey tiptoed back to the tap and pushed it back to its previous position. The water stopped but there was still steam rising from the floor of the stall. Audrey opened the tap again, this time very lightly. Water came down in a smaller pressure but still the same scalding temperature, staggering because of the heat, Audrey's hand slipped and pushed the tap to the right. Suddenly, the hot water grew colder and colder until it felt like Audrey was bathing in winter. Closing the tap, Audrey contemplated.
"Up for on. Down for off. Right for hot. Left for cold," she muttered. "That leaves..." Wrapping her fingers around the tap, she opened it and pushed it until it was settled between hot and cold. In the perfect pressure, warm water rained down on her like a spring blanket.
She looked over at the counter full of canisters and bottles. It didn't take her long to find the soap bar. Rinsing herself off the suds, Audrey closed the tap one last time for the day. She edged out of the stall and dried herself in a fluffy, white towel. Looking at herself in the mirror, she didn't see the Audrey she knew. She saw the Audrey who was about to step into a new life. A clean and hygienic life apparently.
When she wore the clothes the Livingstones coincidentally prepared for her, she felt a sudden pang of warmth and then fear. Audrey understood the warmth, but where was the fear coming from? Was there something she needed to watch for?
"Hey, Audrey, are you in there?" called Deborah from outside.
"Y-yes! Just a mo'," she immediately continued buttoning up her shirt and shimmying into the pinafore. It was a bit too big, but otherwise alright.
Nearly tripping on the way out, she did her best grin.
Tapping her finger on her chin, Deborah shrugged. "The clothes will do on you. I s'pose Prudence was too busy to sell the clothes off to E-Bay. I gotta tell you, 90s clothes sell pretty well on E-Bay."
Audrey suddenly felt metaphorical moths creaking up her blouse.
"Anyway, Candace and I are going to the shops to get some supplies for Laundry Day and we were wondering if you could Esta-and-Tara-sit for us."
Blinking twice, Audrey tried to recall what Deborah had just said. "What?"
"Esta-and-Tara-sitting," shrugged the plump woman. "It's like babysitting but for Esta and Tara. But don't worry, Lenna and Prudence will be here too. But mostly Lenna."
Hearing Lenna's name drew icicles in Audrey's chest. The girl had done enough with Audrey and would be better off without her. And then there was Prudence...
But mostly Lenna, Deborah's voice echoed hauntingly in her head.
Audrey could've denied the offer and asked to come. Yet, a louder voice overthrew the thought and told her it would be rude to disobey a host.
"Sure, okay," she nodded, gritting her teeth.
Eyes twinkling a bright hazel, Deborah excitedly said. "Thank you."
When Deborah Livingstone scurried down the stairs to get ready to go the the shops, Audrey let out a breath of relief. The only thought that came into her head was how long Candace and Deborah would be gone for.