Chapter 58

Silence and tension showered the living room. Isabella typed away on her laptop while Ophelia sat there doing nothing.

Ophelia inhaled, exhaled, then relaxed. She tried to ignore the itchiness in her back. She chewed on her bottom lip and the feeling became irresistible. She slowly brought up her hand, only to drop when the front door burst open.

The blonde expected to find the heavy, comforting presence of her boyfriend. The polar opposite happened: a black-haired woman in a black dress walked inside with her heels clicking and her handbag swinging.

"Hail Mary, bitches! I am back." The woman in black swiped her sunglasses off her face. Her eyelashes were long and pretty and her hazel eyes were even prettier. A bright golden that seemed to glow with royalty.

"M-Mary!?" Ophelia got up, jaw dropped. 

"Hail Mary." Sigh. Isabella turned to look at her and casually sipped on her can of Mountain Pew. "Want us to start worshipping you?" 

Mary raised a finger. Her nail polish and rings matched the rest of her aesthetic: black and regal. "Wow, look at you. Sipping Mountain Pew and doing something for once and getting high and mighty. Congratulations, Isabella. You've finally come close to being a normal person."

"And you haven't changed from being a far-sighted bitch. Congrats. I respect the consistency."

Owen took his time putting away his shoes, laughing in his head. He wasn't going to get in the middle of this. No way, it was too hilarious. 

"Far-sighted?" Mary scoffed. "Aren't you the one addicted to your computer? Why don't you go to the doctor for once? I'm sure they have plenty of diagnoses to give you."

Isabella drew in a breath and closed her laptop. "As expected, the one that dropped out of school barks the loudest and thinks the smallest."

"All that education and you're still jobless."

"All that family and you're still desperate."

The back and forth probably would have gone on for longer. Alas, Ophelia's enthusiasm was at its breaking point.

"Mary!" Ophelia enveloped the taller woman in a hug. "I missed you!"

"Ophelia, you little gremlin." Mary wasn't taken aback in the slightest and patted her. "You haven't been returning my messages."

Ophelia pulled back, her smile waning. "Oh, you know. Busy."

"Busy? You?" Mary turned to Owen, jabbing a thumb at the blonde. "Is she schizophrenic now? Also, why the fuck is she a giraffe?" She looked her new onesie over, then looked at Owen for answers. "I'm saying this with all the love in the world, by the way."

Owen laughed. "You must be tired," he said, coming over to pat her on the shoulder. "What do you want to eat?"

"I feel like a man that's come back from war and misses his mother's homemade cooking. Cachopo, cachopo. I'll have some fries with it too."

"Alright, cachopo and fries coming right up."

Meanwhile, Ophelia murmured, "Schizo…what?" 

He headed to the kitchen to prepare their meal. Mary and Ophelia settled onto the couch and engaged in lively conversation. Mostly, it consisted of Ophelia pestering her with questions about home and the meaning of "schizo-phonic" and Mary diverting the conversation to questions on what happened to Owen when he got injured. 

"Wow, wow, so interesting—why a giraffe though?" Owen shook his head from the kitchen. Mary was still caught up on that?

"It's cute!"

"Right…schizophrenia confirmed?"

Ophelia gasped, a hand covering her mouth, genuinely offended. "Are you calling giraffes ugly!?"

"I'm not not saying that."

"I'm also not not saying you're ugly," Isabella quipped.

Mary laughed. "Me? Ugly? In your nightmares."

Ophelia's jaw was still dropped. "You admitted giraffes are ugly, Mary!"

"No…oh, who am I kidding, they are."

"No, that's not true!"

"Yes, they're ugly as hell."

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"I say yes infinity times, I win." 

After fifteen minutes, Owen emerged from the kitchen with plates of steaming cachopo and crispy fries, setting them down on the coffee table in front of Mary and Ophelia. Isabella was on the couch chair, legs folded with her laptop open.

"Bon appétit," Owen said with a grin, taking a seat and putting Mary in the middle. "Dig in."

"Napkin?" Mary requested. Owen handed it over. "Fork and knife?" Also handed over. Mary began eating similar to how one would eat a fancy steak. No judgement from Owen, of course.

"I didn't expect you to be here so early. But I'm glad you are."

Mary flashed him a mischievous smile, her bright eyes gleaming with amusement. "Just thought I'd drop by and see my favourite boyfriend."

Isabella rolled her eyes. Ophelia blinked and said, "You mean our favourite boyfriend, right?"

"Of course," Mary replied with a smirk. "I wouldn't want to hog him all to myself. Oh wait, I do."

"Do you?" Isabella said. "We were the ones with him this entire time."

"And I was the one he facetimed during work, so let's call it even," Mary replied. Isabella snorted and went back to typing. "By the way, this food is good. Seriously, feels like home."

"Speaking of home…" Ophelia began. "How is everyone? How is the Prize Store?"

Mary glanced at Isabella and smirked. "Still running frauds."

"My father does not run frauds," Isabella interjected. In a low mutter, she added, "Unlike yours."

"He's long dead, just so you know."

"You should double-check his casket."

"Hilarious. Clearly, all that time on the computer had melted your brain."

"Okay, so the village hasn't changed," Owen said, chuckling. "Anything else?"

"Ah, right." Mary chewed on her food. "I'm broke as shit."

Ophelia blinked. Isabella turned, squinting. Owen opened his voice, unsure of what to say. "Uh, what?"

"You heard me."

"Are we talking zero dollars in the bank or broke as in lacking funds? Because I feel we have very different definitions of broke."

Mary let out a sigh. "The next court case is happening in a month. My brother is being a pain in the ass and got an arrest warrant on me."

"W-what!? For what!?"

"Fraud and theft."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that he wants," Mary said. "He has friends in the police and courts. He has the advantage. My accounts have been frozen and thus…I'm broke."

Well, shit.