5 Months Before
Amongst the things that agitated Mazzy the most; traffic jams being at the very top, she found herself particularly perturbed at her current situation-in a burdensome conversation with a series of questions that appeared to have no end.
Oh, how she wished to be back in the comfort of her oasis, muddling about, watching the days mush by.
Instead, she was watching Ms.Galesburg pour the hours of the day into yet another cup of coffee that she really couldn't manage, even if she were to go back in time and reverse the five previous cup that she had had.
"E'ryone's been worried about you, love, you just haven't been out the house much, and for yer personality type, that ain't healthy."
Neither is six cups of coffee.
Mazzy sighed, forcing another nod as she took a drawn-out sip of coffee, wishing oh-so-desperately that she would just die from a caffeine intake on the spot.
"If yer needin' help cleanin' out the place, my nephew's got some time on his hands, he could certainly help." Ms. Galesburg offered, settling back down into her white wicker chair.
Mazzy shook her head, forcing a smile "I'm fine, Ms. Galesburg, really. My parents and sister are coming in to help me get the rest sorted out."
"She was a hoarder, yer grandmother. Bless her 'eart. Every day she'd come home with some new find from a thrift store or another." Ms. Galesburg smiled softly, staring off across the street for moment. "I know this is a bit insensitive, but are you going to sell the house?"
Mazzy hesitated for her response.
It was in such terrible condition-she couldn't really imagine getting it back up to living standards. But the charm, the charm was something else. Perhaps it was because her grandmother had lived in it for so long, instilling her fiery attitude into the old pine floors and brightly wallpapered rooms.
Or maybe the charm came from the ocean.
Or even a healthy combination of both.
Either way the more she considered it, the more she realized it was making for an unhealthy consideration of Mazzy keeping it.
"Mazzy, you alright?" Ms. Galesburg inquired, her voice breaking her thoughts.
"I'm fine, Ms.Galesburg, just thinkin'." Mazzy quipped, taking a sip of her coffee, her mind far too distracted now to reject it. "Ms. Galesburg, if I were to keep the house, what could I do with it?"
"I don't know, lovie. Yer grandmother originally was a house mother for years. I'm thinkin' that's what she intended before she...well..."
"A house mother?"
"For the academy, yeah. Every year houses all 'round open up to provide a better experience outside the dramatic boarding rooms. Yer grandmother loved it, took in five girls every year. Practically raised them as her own." Ms. Galesburg paused "Probably the best darn house mother that ever been."
Mazzy shook her head slowly. "Well now I couldn't do that, what do I know about teenagers? Other then bein' one."
"I'm not sayin' you should be one darlin'. Just tellin' you what your grandmother did." Ms.Galesburg sighed contently.
Mazzy chewed on her lower lip, her green eyes sparkling with a wonder that set Ms. Galesburg into a seat of unease. "How hard would it be for me to go about bein' a house mother?"
"I couldn't tell you, darlin'. I imagine there's a series of hoops the school would require you to jump through."
Mazzy nodded.
Perhaps she had lost her mind.
She never truly had it.
Maybe it was the color of her hair that brought the impulsiveness-her father always said it was the red in their family that drove them to the craziest things. Not that she ever believed such a silly superstition-that hair could play into her personality. If anything it was the south in her that drove her to do ridiculous things such as become a house mother.
Then again, this could be her chance.
If a Home for girls is what her grandmother's house used to be, then why shouldn't it be one, now?
In all her tours, Mazzy really only had the smallest of opportunities to show the morals behind fairy tales and it was usually to adults.
Teens took work; this she knew from the hours of eyes rolls received when she did receive an odd teenager or two on her tour.
But this, following in her grandmother's footsteps, it could give her more than a few hours or days to make a difference.
She couldn't explain it, but it felt right-and Mazzy was a firm believer that if something felt right, then that was probably God's green light.
She hoped.
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One Month Before
"Now, Mazzy, are you sure about all this?" Miriam Hansford asked, her voice carrying their conversation as they worked, Miriam's fingers carefully working out the dough of the bread. "Taking care of teenagers, it's quite a task. Especially since they aren't your own."
No, no Mazzy officially wasn't sure.
Mazzy was sure she lost her ever-loving mind.
Mazzy was sure that even though the perks of having the house renovated by the school because of its use was nice, but Mazzy was no longer sure about being a house mother.
She wasn't even a good fish mother.
And though everything was moving at a steady enough pace for her to handle each thing falling into place at just the right time, she found herself incredibly overwhelmed.
Despite her thoughts of hesitation, however, Mazzy shook them off and forced on a smile to answer her mothers question. "I'm absolutely certain that this is what I want to do, mama. After all, the house is renovated nice and pretty just the way I like it, it'd be a shame to let the school take it from me now."
Ah, the school. Harbor View Academy, home to the East Coast Aristocrats. And families in between who just wanted to give their kids a quality education, and some drama in their lives. Up until the moment she registered there to become a house mother, Mazzy wasn't sure of the workings there, but now that she was; it had become apparent to her just extravagant the school was. Sitting on the pier overlooking the water that edged the small Maryland town, the school held the same historical feel that her grandmother's house and several others had. The difference between the houses and the school being, the school put in multi-million dollar marble floors, and Mazzy just resealed the pine flooring. Oh...how interesting the students were going to be.
And the thoughts had reappeared again.
Mazzy was getting a little frustrated at her own internal concerns. And unknown to her, Miriam was quite aware of her daughter's hesitation. "You'll do well, I have no doubt." Miriam's voice came distantly, perhaps more so than she realized, as she appeared shocked by Mazzy's question.
"Mama, is something on your mind?"
Miriam's response came hesitantly. "Well, Mazzy, I was wondering...have you filled up the house spots."
"Not all of them, no. I still have room for two more girls. Why have someone in mind?" Mazzy glanced out the corner of her eye to see her younger sister's red curls teasing the doorway where she hovered.
"Well..." Miriam sighed, "Your sister, she needs a fresh start. After everything, she went through last year, I just think that maybe coming here...having a chance to meet new people..."
"And you want her to stay here, and go to Harbor View?" Mazzy's voice almost depicted disbelief. Despite expecting her mother to ask that, it still took her by surprise. Her parents hardly took well to Mazzy moving so far up North, even if it was to be with her grandmother.
And with that in the back of her mind, she wondered just how much pleading her sister had to do to get their parents to agree.
"Well, yes? We've done some budgeting, and we think we could swing it, and we'd pay you of course. She'd have to get a job, but-" Miriam's verbal spew was cut off by Mazzy's reassurance.
"Mama, it's fine, I promise you, I don't mind. And you don't have to pay me a thing. I'd be more than happy to care of Lydie." Mazzy broke into a grin as she heard a hushed 'yes' come from the doorway, watching her sister's arm pump up and down.
"Well darling it's only right, you're taking care of your sister-"
"Mother, I promise you, with the money grandma left, I can take care of Lydie and myself just fine without you forking out more cash than needed. God knows the academy's already gonna be putting you and daddy in a struggle bus." Mazzy quipped, turning back to the stove to focus on the gravy. "And I don't want any arguments from either of you."
"Mazzy that's the money your grandma left you for a good reason."
"Well I usually don't by the name brand products, so I think I can swing an extra person on the money. Besides, the money I got from selling most of my shares in the tour company has provided me with more than enough."
Oh her beloved tour company.
More doubt was sneaking up on her in that little statement of hers. She loved that tour company. It gave her a chance to really show the impact of the stories behind fairytales, but now...
Let's just hope books and life lessons work as good visuals.
"Sweetheart, listen, I appreciate that, but-"
"Oh for pete sakes mama, she told you not to argue, so don't argue, you know you'll lose!" Lydie's voice echoed into the kitchen, her accent coming in thick as she scolded her mother. "It's not like I need much anyway. I can't grow much taller, or I hope I can't. Don't think God's that cruel." Lydie quipped, grabbing the pepper grinder from the counter, she moved beside Mazzy, adding more to the gravy she was focused on.
"Lydie what have I told you about eavesdropping?" Miriam fussed, shooting her youngest a glare that could only be met by somebody with a similar attitude.
Unfortunately for her, both her daughters had a similar attitude, though even in their most rebellious phases wouldn't dare respond to their mother's anger.
"Relax mama, she said yes, I won't die, and if I have too, I'll just have to eat a bunch of foods with additives and preservatives and try and shrink down a little." Lydie's eyes sparkled with mirth as she watched Mazzy for a moment. "So what's the deal? Do I get to choose my room, do I get a roommate? Oh! Are we gonna have a chore board? I call dishes."
"I have a dishwasher," Mazzy smirked, knowing the next words out of her sister's mouth. "You're fifteen, should you really be cooping out of things like that?"
"I have important matters to attend to."
"Like what?"
"Like pointing out that you don't have any cayenne in there."
"I don't put cayenne in my gravy."
"I do, it needs spice."
Miriam watched her daughters with a whistful smile for a moment, before addressing the argument that was already unfolding. "Sure you haven't changed your mind yet, Maze?"
Mazzy grinned, nudging her sister some. "No, I think this just reminded me of how in my element I might actually be."