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Eleanor nods as I unlock the car.
“I can’t believe you’re staying!”
“Well, someone has to look over the contractors. That’s the whole reason I went here in the first place! Besides, I’ll be fine. I grew up in that house. I’ve survived it for forty-plus years; what’s another week?” I say blithely.
Eleanor shoots me a look. “I just think you should be taking this more seriously.”
“Eleanor, I just went to see a fucking psychic with you!”
“And you rolled your eyes the whole time.”
“Not this again,” I say as I pull out of the parking lot.
“It would be nice to feel supported by my partner, that’s all.” Eleanor snaps.
“Eleanor, I’ve done nothing but support you!”
“But I handed you a solution on a silver platter, and you practically laughed in my face!”
“You can’t seriously think this guy is for real,” I say. We stand facing each other on the porch. It’s the first week of December. Snow is falling, and I can’t tell if Eleanor’s cheeks are red from the cold or fury.
“You’re always so quick to judge people,” Eleanor says.
“I wasn’t judging him! I was being healthily skeptical!”
“And practically making fun of him. Joseph, he knew your father! He knows Iphigenia! Isn’t that enough? He’s familiar with the house!”
“I’d like to see some verification.”
We enter the vestibule, and Eleanor scowls at me as she kicks the snow off her boots. “Joseph, he’s not a contractor! He doesn’t have a psychic license. I’m sorry that you have to try and believe in something for once, but I—” Eleanor winces and clutches her rib cage. The twins have been kicking her ribs to shreds. Purple bruises are blooming across her stomach.
“Are you okay?” I ask as she winces again.
“I’m fine. I need to pack anyway.”
Eleanor stomps upstairs. I can hear her moving around, dragging her suitcase out of her closet.
I race upstairs. “Eleanor, wait!”
“Why, Joseph? What else do you have to say to me?” Eleanor unzips her suitcase and starts furiously packing. She’s surrounded by sweaters and mismatched socks, grabbing any clean piece of clothing she can get her hands on.
“Did you ever think that she’s doing this?” I ask.
“What, being an asshole? No, that’s all you.”
“No, I mean, what if this is Beatrix trying to drive us apart? What if she’s trying to distract us, to weaken us?”
“Are you serious?” Eleanor asks with a pair of tights clenched in her fist.
“Yes, I mean, what if that’s the point? She can get to us better!”
Eleanor pauses. “Make up your mind! Seriously! Either you believe in this, or you don’t!”
“What if I want us to be a united front?” I shoot back.
“Then I’d say you’re the one being delusional! It’s not safe!” Eleanor screams.
“Joseph, please come with me," Eleanor begs as she zips up her suitcase.
