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“She’s myniece, Rochelle! I want to wish her happy birthday!”
Another pause.
“Fuck you, Rochelle. She’s my flesh and blood. You have no right. You should take that idiot husband of yours and shove something sharp where the sun don’t… Rochelle? Roch? Are you still there?”
Rip wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want Mabel to think that he was eavesdropping, but… well, he guessed hewas.
He thought about it for a moment and decided that it was even weirder to eavesdrop and then sneak away, so he was going to reveal himself to her.
“Mabel?” he called softly, so he wouldn’t startle her. “Mabel? Are you there?”
As he turned the corner, he saw Mabel sitting on a fallen-down log, angrily tapping the ground with a stick, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Leave me alone, Rip,” she said. “Our scene isn’t for another hour. Stop following me around, okay?” She didn’t sound angry, though. She just sounded very, very sad.
Rip raised his palms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. You just… looked like you might need company.”
Mabel laughed through the tears. “Company fromyou? You’re about the last person around here I want company from.”
Rip nodded. “I get it. We haven’t exactly got off to the best start. But I can see you’re suffering, and I know we have a scene coming up soon, so… it might be helpful to talk it out.”
“Talk what out?”
“Whatever’s made you look like your day just turned to shit.”
Mabel paused, tapping the ground with her stick once more. “I expect you’d love it if my day turned to shit.”
Rip was trying not to judge, but hearing such filthy words coming out of Mabel’s mouth made him grimace. She was so small and so unavoidably cute. It just seemed… wrong, somehow. Something else he’d like to give her a smacked bottom for.
Stop it, Rip.
“Actually, I don’t want your day to turn to shit, Mabel. I want you to talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, if it’d help.”
Why exactlywasRip being so kind to her? He didn’t have the answer to that right now. Couldn’t fully explain it. He didn’t get the opportunity for heart-to-hearts with people very often. Maybe that’s why. Maybe he wished someone would offer him the same thing.
Mabel frowned, as though disturbed by something, then reached into her pocket and squinted at her cellphone screen. “What now?” she sighed. “For fuck’s sake. Why won’t everybody just leave me alone?” She hurled the phone at Rip’s crotch, but he caught it just in time.
“No missiles on set,” he warned her. It was kinda meant to be a joke, but also, it wasn’t. Throwing things at people was dangerous enough as it was. Throwing things at people on a movie set with hundreds of weapons on-site was just plain stupid. He gave her a stern look then handed the cellphone back to her.
“Go away, Rip,” Mabel said through clenched teeth. “You’ll get plenty of time to terrorize me at the duel. Just… let me be.”
“Alright,” said Rip with a nod. He had tried. Nobody could say he hadn’t. But he had to respect the fact that the lady wanted privacy. “I’ll see you soon,” he said as he walked away. “And if you want to chat before then, just holler.”
“I’ll holler alright,” muttered Mabel. “I’d have to be hollering to need your help.”
Suddenly, Rip felt something hard hit his leg. He looked down and saw Mabel’s cellphone on the ground nearby, the screen cracked.
So what?
He wasn’t going to pick it up for her. He wasn’t even going to react. He was done with trying to help that Little brat. Honestly, he was pretty much done with Littles forever. Just a bunch of adults who’d never grown up.
As he walked away, feeling a throbbing on the back of his thigh where Mabel’s surprisingly hard throw had hit him, he found an unexpected memory surfacing. It was a memory of his mother’s legs, from when he was a little boy. It was a memory of how he’d clung to them so tight, clinging for dear life, as his mother used to beg her father not to beat him.
But he did get beaten. Almost every goddamn weekend.
His mother’s legs, though, sturdy and wonderful under her long, starched skirts… they were safe. Warm. Perfect.
No legs he’d ever touched had rivaled them for those things. And no legs ever would.
