Though you still have the pens in your possession, it’s unwise to trick a criminal. You’re unsure if Meredith will fulfill the part of her bargain, but she seems to know things about your grandparents, and the family resemblance is there.
Even if it means sacrificing your mother now, as long as they keep the end of their bargain, might as well make it easier for them. “Alright,” you finally cave in. “But you better keep your word.”
“Don’t expect me to cross my heart,” she declares, nonchalantly. “I said I’d think about it.”
“So you won’t.”
“Again - that I’d think about it. Gotta keep open the possibilities, y’know.” She takes a deep breath, growing very pensive. “Might be the chance to see them again.”
“Who?” Her dry look reminds you of who. “Grandma and Grandpa.”
“And my parents too. Figure out what they think about me.”
“So...” Your mother’s family isn’t very large, though you know little of them beyond your grandparents. “Since you’re Mom’s cousin, that means you gotta be one of grand-aunt Rosalie’s children, right?”
“That’s right.”
No wonder you never knew about her. That side of the family lives out of state, and you’ve visited them sparingly. You’re surprised, though, since they’re the “richer” cousins – for a given sense of the word, since they can afford a nice lakeside cottage, if a simple one, complete with their own boat for leisure.
“What made you choose this life?” you ask, taking their better standing into consideration. “They got a better life than us.”
“I wanted more,” she confesses. “Dad loves living a simple life way too much. And Mom...” She stops, eyeing you warily. “How do you know?”
“I’ve been to their house,” you confess. “But I haven’t seen any of your photos.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they disowned me.” She sighs, disappointed in the outcome. “Guess I have more motivation to figure out why – though I wouldn’t be surprised.”
She stands before the mirror, grabbing your mother’s deflated skin. She plunges her face into the slit behind your mother’s hair, and soon her short ash blonde hair is replaced by your mother’s light auburn. From behind, you can see the slit merge until it’s almost invisible, while at the mirror, you can see her fondle and adjust your mother’s face into hers, until there’s no clue that this woman is Meredith (Brooke? That’s your grand-aunt's married name, after all), but instead your mother, Marie Anderson.
“Mmm...” she moans, grasping possessively your mother’s face. “Never get tired of this.” Then, with a big breath, she turns towards you and points at Claire’s room, with a very motherly tone. “Alright, Davey. Help me fix your sister’s room.”
“You were the one who screwed it up,” you say, reminding her that she’s not your mother.
“I can always look for your stash of porn,” she says very confidently. “Kids like you always have one. I’ve been observing – you’re always trying to get one over the other.”
“That wouldn’t happen if Claire wasn’t so childish,” you reply.
“Kid, that’s not sibling rivalry.” That stuns you, since the tone is very decidedly Meredith’s. “She’s trying to get your attention. If you complement her once in a while, she’ll probably stop.”
“Why would you say that?”
“She won’t expect the brother she hates yet she admires to do so.” She grabs your shoulder and shakes it, smiling just as your mother does. “Just because I’m hiding in her doesn’t mean I can’t try to be a better cousin Marie than she is, don’t you think?”
You’re worried about the meaning behind her words. What would she mean by that?
--
As far as you’ve seen, nothing. And everything.
Behavior-wise, Meredith plays your mother almost to a hilt. You’ve taken to observe her quirks, and those she copies from your mother’s, warning her about the first and when she screws up with the second.
The biggest warning, of course, is her smoking. She’s taken to hide her pack inside your room, taking a couple out when doing your mother’s runs, and occasionally at other times. You’re fortunate no one enters into the basement, which has taken a nasty smell of burnt tobacco, but you’ve had to slip in whenever your father tries to find a tool he needs to avoid suspicion. (Which, strangely, hasn’t caused any from your part.)
You can’t help but feel weirded out that your father’s on a much better mood. He’s kissing your “mother” a lot more, and he grins more often. You can only wonder why, but you can’t help indulge your curiosity. “You’ve been... doing it with Dad, right?”
“Whaddya think, kid?” she says as he takes a swig from a half-consumed cigarette. (The windows are open and she’s smoking as far away from the gas line, though you still feel that’s a threat.) The nasty grin from her crooked teeth, yellowed by the stain of tobacco, barely distracts you from the fact that she’s fully – and unabashedly – naked. “Gotta give Paul what he wants at night.”
“You don’t feel bad you’re cheating at Leslie?”
She takes another swig, covering her small breasts with her arm. “Considering he’ll be there soon, I’d say it’s practice.”
“If my dad knew he’s cheating on mom with someone else--”
“As long as you cooperate, he won’t know. Out of sight and all that.”
Your mind slips as you see her true body – slim, slightly curvy but not like your mothers, with a couple tattoos – causing you to question her experience. “Did you like it?”
She snorts, huffing a plume of smoke from her teeth. “Your dad’s still got some fire. A shame cousin Marie doesn’t share it.” She leans closer, snickering as she speaks. “Kinda small, but it’s thick.”
“Eww!” You skitter away in disgust, and she cackles – which puts you on alert. “Keep it low! They’ll know!”
She looks at what’s left of the cigarette and douses it on a puddle of water. “Right.” She hands you a can of air freshener as she moves towards the mound of flesh left aside – your mother, deflated, with her clothes lying atop as a cover. “Help me with that, will you dear?”
She’s started to mimic your mother’s traits even outside her – as a way to taunt you – which makes you regret making that decision. But you don’t want Leslie to take it against you.
--
It’s Thursday, and you see your “mother” dressed rather nicely, with a frilly blouse under a cardigan, and a long skirt with pumps – she even took her fantasy pearl necklace and matching earrings for the occasion. She’s chosen today to enact her plan – and you’ll be there to help her.
Tina will be studying at college, Nick – as always – will be out with his parents, and Claire will be at the Hunts, so the house will be alone. She asked you if you wanted to be with your girlfriend, but then decided it’d be better if you met Leslie first.
The plan is simple. Yesterday, Meredith – of course, in your mother’s guise – asked Nick if he could keep the pick-up truck he often uses for something you needed to do. (So good that you’ve already got your driver’s license.) That “something”, of course, is getting Leslie, while she takes the opportunity to turn your dad into skin. Then, inside your very house, he’ll get in, posing as your dad for the time being.
You wait for him at the airport in Tyneside, communicating only through texts. He asked you to check for a blonde girl with pigtails holding a backpack – he didn’t mention, of course, that he’d be inside. You call him, and you notice she’s the one answering. “Hey. You’re the kid that’s helping us, right?”
You wonder how someone like Meredith can be in love with someone sounding like that. “Yeah,” you say as you stand up.
She sees you and waves. “That must be you, right?”
“Yeah,” you reply as she draws closer. “Could’ve told me about that.”
“Well, had to keep it a secret.” You let “her” in as she drops the backpack – a rather large one, and surprisingly heavy – on the truckbed. “Can’t be too careful, y’know.”
As you move away, and while your companion sends a text to his partner, you indulge in some interrogation. “Is your name really Leslie?”
“Leslie isn’t just a girl’s name,” she replies harshly. “And yes, it is.”
His attitude makes it obvious he’s unwilling to chat. But his disguise makes you wonder. “Is she...?”
“Been my hiding place for these few weeks,” she says, somewhat relaxed. “But I can’t move as well as I want to with her.”
“You’re gonna turn her back, no?”
She cackles, then gives you a stony glare. “You’re as nagging as Merry told me, didn’t you?”
You gulp at his harshness. “That means you won’t.”
“It means I’ll keep her in case I need her,” he replies starkly. “The quicker I can get off her, though, the better.”
You figure it’ll be better not to bother him – or “her” - so you spend the rest of the way in silence. You arrive at dusk, telling him to keep an eye on the road while you call.
As Leslie holds the phone, you wait for her answer. “Davey?”
“We’re here, Mom.”
“Good,” you hear from the other side of the phone. “Your dad’s ready.”
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