Chapter 320: A Friend in Need
*Shy, I need a place to stay. – Gertie*
Like most of their friends, Shiloh did not like Gertie's boyfriend, Mitchell. He wasn’t like them. Sure, he tried. He had the dark clothes, kind of.
It wasn’t like there was a dress code. But with his slacks, loafers and polo or Oxford shirts, he just did not fit in.
Most of the girls dressed like Shiloh in a psychobilly or gothabilly style. Or just straight up goth and punk. The guys were all similarly dressed. Almost all of them wore dark eye makeup, guys included.
But not Mitchell.
He was, in the words of Shade, a wannabe. He wannabe liked. He wannabe popular. He wannabe something he’s not.
They got them every so often. Someone trying something new. Usually, they know pretty quickly if this is where they fit. There were also the partners and friends who didn’t live the goth style. And some that they called the weekenders.
Mitchell didn’t fit into any of those categories either.
He didn’t like the music. The clothes. The lifestyle. The décor. In fact, other than Gertie, Shiloh could not think of anything that Mitchell did like.
And other than Gertie, Shiloh could not think of anyone that liked Mitchell.
From what Shiloh had seen, the man even tried to change her. Trying to get her to fit more into his boring mold. She kept hoping that her friend would break up with him. But at the same time, she was glad that Gertie had found someone that made her happy.
Gertie was one of the friends that Shiloh had made in a very dark time in her life. Not the dark that she lied to live in now. But the dark that her grandfather and cousin feared would put her in a coffin. And not one of the decorative ones that occupied her space.
Gertie had just called crying, begging Shiloh to come get her. Shiloh wasn’t sure that Gertie liked him anymore. Part of her was happy that things were over. And another part of her felt bad for her friend.
Shiloh stopped in front of the apartment building and Gertie ran out to the rat rod. She got in and snapped her seat belt, never looking at her friend.
“Just go.” Gertie whispered.
Shiloh shifted into reverse and drove back to the old funeral home. The drive back seemed to take longer than ever before. Maybe it was because of the unusual tense silence punctured only by the occasional sniffle. Maybe it was because of the rain.
Using the remote on her keychain, Shiloh opened the roll up garage door. The car came to a stop and Gertie got out, heading for the door that opened to the stairs leading to the living space on the second and third floors.
Shiloh took her time closing the garage and following her friend. Instinctively, she knew the other woman needed some time to herself. When she entered the newly remodeled space, she found Gertie on the library window seat watching the rain.
Turning on a floor lamp, Shiloh walked back down the hall to the kitchen and flipped on the overhead light. Putting water into the kettle, she put it on the gas stove and turned on the flame. Gathering cups and other necessities on a tray, she waited for the kettle to boil.
Before going into the living room, Shiloh poured the hot water into ceramic tea pot with the chamomile tea bags already inside. With a full tea service, 1950s fashion but with skulls and spiders as the design, she carried the black and silver skull shaped tray over to where her friend sat.
“My grandmother loved the old-fashioned ways. Tea service. Formal rooms. The classic dresses.” Shiloh said sitting down on the window seat with the tray between them. “She’s probably the reason I like the vintage.”
Gertie finally looked at her and Shiloh did not flinch or gasp. She saw exactly what she suspected.
A busted lip.
Black eye.
Finger marks on the throat.
Torn clothes.
Bite marks.
Bruises.
Handprints.
“It was never this bad before.” Gertie whispered. “He always apologized and swore it would never happen again.”
“It will always happen again. Until you decide that it won’t. It will always happen.”
“I can’t go back.”
“You don’t have to.”
“He destroyed my clothes.”
“Lucky you, I have a basement full of clothes for my store. We’ll go look tomorrow.” Shiloh said pouring two cups of tea.
“I can’t pay you.” Gertie whispered. “I have no money or job.”
“I need help with the stores. We’ll consider it an advance on your pay.”
“You’re a really good friend.”
Shiloh smiled at her friend. “It’s nothing more than what anyone else would do.”
“Not everyone would care.” Gertie whispered.
Shiloh knew that she was talking about her family. They were devout Catholics and when Gertie had an abortion, they had disowned her. It did not matter that it was an ectopic pregnancy and could have killed her. It was a life made by God and that was all there was to it.
They had shared a dark past due to their family issues. One no longer had a family. The other only spoke to two members of her large family. But they had each other and their friends who were closer than family.
“Not everyone is as awesome as I am.” Shiloh replied with a grin.
Gertie gave her a weak smile.
“What are we going to do about my things?”
“Is there anything that you want?”
“Just my kittens.”
Shiloh picked up her phone and sent a quick message. A moment later, her phone chimed with a response. Texting back to the other person, she grinned at her friend. “My cousin will send someone to go get them.”
“Did you know? What he was doing to me?” Gertie whispered.
“No. I thought he was a controlling jerk but I never thought that he would stoop this low. Not even him.”
With sad eyes, she looked at her friend. “How did you get over it?”
“I didn’t.” Shiloh admitted. “I just learned to control it and not let it control me. I changed my name. cut off the majority of my family. Completely remade myself. Told the world to fuck off.”
She gave a small smile. “I still can’t fly. Cold weather gives me nightmares. I can’t sleep in the dark by myself. Carnivals and street fairs scare me.”
Gertie reached over and took her hand in her own. “What a pair we are.”
Shiloh squeezed her hand and then leaned over and kissed her cheek.
