Dinner Time
So, you know how they call Georgia the Peach State? Well, they weren't fuckin' kidding! Man, is this place ever covered with acre-to-acre peach trees! I'm startin' to think all of America gets there peaches from this get up. But, they oughta have signs tellin' ya which are good for the pickin'… and which are better left alone. Because unripe peaches? Not really my idea of an after slay meal, ya know?
Anyway… back to the dress thing. Still not diggin' it, but hey. I deal. I can cope with it alright. At least they didn't prop me up in pink and pigtails. Still got the wicked red thing goin' on, so, believe it or not, I'm cool with it. I'm kickin' it. Just living this thing out the best I can. Red's all over it… but, just between the two of us, girl's always been on the side of weird.
After our little familial bonding session, we headed down for some grub. Smelled good enough… and I gotta admit, my stomach was startin' to make some pretty weird noises. What? So I got a big appetite. Deal.
"Good Evening Ladies," Jeeves greets us with a slight bow. Wow. Talk about the proper gentleman. This guy had the works. "May I just say that you look lovely?"
"Talk away, Jeeves," I grin while my witchy companion blushes all kinds of red. Yea, I know I look good. Red seems to think I don't dig dresses 'cause I think I look wicked stupid. But thing is, that just ain't it. I hate dresses 'cause they're wicked inconvenient and just ain't my style. I like stuff that feels like a second skin, ya know? Tight and leathery and clings to all the right places. Fuck the hoops skirts!
She ducks her head, but she's smiling too. "Thank you, Frederick."
He smiles back at her and I'm about ready to get a toothache over the sweetness of the scene. I take Willow's hand, hopin' he sees it as something cousiny, and gesture down the hall. "So, you gonna show us the way or do we gotta make a game of it?"
He coughs, but then does what he's bein' paid to. "Of course, right this way ladies."
And, I gotta laugh. I mean, who the Hell calls me a lady? Definitely a first here. Same thing with the ma'am. Man, these people really go all out on the manners thing. But, I dunno if I'm down with it. Makes me feel kinda… uncomfortable. Scratch that. It wigs me out big time. When people are too nice - it just ups the chances that there's something sinister behind the honey smiles and the warm eyes.
We end up goin; down this stupidly long hallway with creepy pictures of dead generals lining the walls. On the way there, I joked that maybe the place was haunted. Like, ya know, ghosts of the civil war era or something who are still pissed off they got their toys taken away from the big bad northerners. Red didn't seem to think I was so funny. Said something about how we should respect the dead.
If you ask me, though, I'd say the girl's sensing the same vibes I am. Something's up here in a bad way. It's like I said… you can paint a perfect picture… but that don't take away the bad underneath. Kinda like this old bike I had. On one of mom's nicer and saner days… she had a boyfriend of hers paint up this rackety old garage sale reject bike with a shiny red paint job. Looked good about two seconds… and then the tires got flat and the paint chipped off. It was just another unhappy day in the childhood of Faith. Bummer.
But, the point? This place was like that bike. Sooner or later, the paint was gonna chip. And, as much as I hate to plan, I think we oughta get some idea about what's goin' down here. Guess it's time for a little Nancy Drewing.
Jeeves led us over to the kitchen table after what seemed like fuckin' forever. They had a kind of Fondue thing goin' on as an appetizer and hey, I like cheese. I like bread. So, I had my ass on a chair stat. I was all ready to start diggin' in. Turns out, the owners of this place were already there lookin' all picture perfect.
Guy looked about 50. Had black hair that was graying on the side and big brown eyes hidden away behind a pair of glasses. Looked normal enough. Except for the suit part. Guy had on some kinda overly fashionable old styled suit that made me raise a brow some. So, it ain't just the girls stuck with a blast from the past. Must be the lifestyle around here. Weird.
A woman sat beside him. Looked a few years younger, but wasn't no cheerleader… that's for sure. She had kinda a sharp look to her… like, the kind of chick who spends half her life at country clubs talkin' about flowers and Versace. Or, in her case… maybe she's still talkin' about the Confederate Flag. She had her obviously bleacher hair up in some fancy bun thing and her eyes were a cold blue that could cut right through ya. Even made me shudder. Fuck. She was stuck in a dress too… but hers was a Hell of a lot fancier and matched her eyes.
"Ladies, I would like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lance and Julianne Hadley. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley, this is, uh…" he stumbles some for our names. Guess Jeeves memory must be goin' at his semi old age.
"Willow Rosenberg," Willow interrupts him. Man, she even did a little curtsy thing.
I shrug, not really lookin' for the big hello's when I could be eating. "Faith." And when they look at me funny, I just smirk and add, "Just Faith."
"Well, it's nice to meet you ladies," the woman says in a southern drawl, but it wasn't all honey like the touchy seamstress is. Even her voice was hard and cold. And for real now? I think she'd rather have us out as soon as possible.
Husband was nicer though. Guy had a nice rich tone and actually sounded sincere in his dealings. "I hope ya'll enjoy our home. We haven't had visitors in quite a while. In fact, not many people venture to these parts. Everyone's all about Atlanta."
I snort. Yea, I can see why people wouldn't wanna "venture to these parts" anymore. Nothing but a bunch of hicks stuck in time long gone. They really oughta get hip to the times. Man, I can't wait till we head up Jersey and the Big Apple. Now, that's the kinda shit I'm used to.
"How old is your house?" Red asks, always the little historian. "I mean, you have all these statues and paintings and it's just amazing! It's like something totally out of a history book. You could even do tours here!"
Cold eyes huffs See, I told ya the chick was a wicked snob. "I'd rather not have to deal with a bunch of snot nosed children poking around in my home, thank you very much."
"Julianne…" her boytoy interrupts with a disapproving nod. Take that, bitch.
"Sorry," she rolls her eyes. "We enjoy our privacy Miss Rosenberg and most of the items in our home are genuine antiques. We have an extensive alarm system to keep them and us well protected from thieves and the like. Tours would only increase our chances of robbery."
"And to answer your question," the boytoy adds. "Our home was built in the late 1700's but has been built upon throughout the years and was renovated during the 1950's for modern appliances and the like. Our family inherited the home in the early 1900's. The family before ours were a part of the Underground Railroad and there are still passages to this day."
"Wow," I mutter, not really impressed with all this crap, but amazed how much he sounds like a tour guide sellin' us our all expenses paid vacation to paradise. "Talk about a tourist trap."
I get a dirty look from wifey. She could sense my sarcasm from a mile away I bet. It's a thing. And you know what? Come to think of it, she reminded me of an odler and blonder version of Lilah fuckin' Morgan. Lawyer who hired me to off Angel. No wonder I hated this bitch with a fuckin' passion already. So, I shoot her an equally angry glare and chow down at my Fondue. Not really givin' a fuck how unladylike my eating is.
Meanwhile, Willow's completely oblivious to our little stare down. Girls already well into geek heaven. Good for her. One of us oughtta enjoy the show here. But, before any of us have a chance to say much more - Jeeves interrupts with the main course.
Rest of dinner is filled with a lot of me eating, Willow and Lance talkin' up a storm, and the queen bitch boring holes into my head with her stare. Gee, I wonder if maybe she doesn't like me? You think? Jeeves stops in every now and then lookin' wicked uncomfortable. I gotta wonder what crawled up his ass and died in those few minutes between fondue and mashed potatoes.
When I'm finally stuffed - I drag Red out of there. I got a few little theories I'd like to discuss with her before her heads gets too stuffed with what she thinks of as historical goodies.
Anyway… back to the dress thing. Still not diggin' it, but hey. I deal. I can cope with it alright. At least they didn't prop me up in pink and pigtails. Still got the wicked red thing goin' on, so, believe it or not, I'm cool with it. I'm kickin' it. Just living this thing out the best I can. Red's all over it… but, just between the two of us, girl's always been on the side of weird.
After our little familial bonding session, we headed down for some grub. Smelled good enough… and I gotta admit, my stomach was startin' to make some pretty weird noises. What? So I got a big appetite. Deal.
"Good Evening Ladies," Jeeves greets us with a slight bow. Wow. Talk about the proper gentleman. This guy had the works. "May I just say that you look lovely?"
"Talk away, Jeeves," I grin while my witchy companion blushes all kinds of red. Yea, I know I look good. Red seems to think I don't dig dresses 'cause I think I look wicked stupid. But thing is, that just ain't it. I hate dresses 'cause they're wicked inconvenient and just ain't my style. I like stuff that feels like a second skin, ya know? Tight and leathery and clings to all the right places. Fuck the hoops skirts!
She ducks her head, but she's smiling too. "Thank you, Frederick."
He smiles back at her and I'm about ready to get a toothache over the sweetness of the scene. I take Willow's hand, hopin' he sees it as something cousiny, and gesture down the hall. "So, you gonna show us the way or do we gotta make a game of it?"
He coughs, but then does what he's bein' paid to. "Of course, right this way ladies."
And, I gotta laugh. I mean, who the Hell calls me a lady? Definitely a first here. Same thing with the ma'am. Man, these people really go all out on the manners thing. But, I dunno if I'm down with it. Makes me feel kinda… uncomfortable. Scratch that. It wigs me out big time. When people are too nice - it just ups the chances that there's something sinister behind the honey smiles and the warm eyes.
We end up goin; down this stupidly long hallway with creepy pictures of dead generals lining the walls. On the way there, I joked that maybe the place was haunted. Like, ya know, ghosts of the civil war era or something who are still pissed off they got their toys taken away from the big bad northerners. Red didn't seem to think I was so funny. Said something about how we should respect the dead.
If you ask me, though, I'd say the girl's sensing the same vibes I am. Something's up here in a bad way. It's like I said… you can paint a perfect picture… but that don't take away the bad underneath. Kinda like this old bike I had. On one of mom's nicer and saner days… she had a boyfriend of hers paint up this rackety old garage sale reject bike with a shiny red paint job. Looked good about two seconds… and then the tires got flat and the paint chipped off. It was just another unhappy day in the childhood of Faith. Bummer.
But, the point? This place was like that bike. Sooner or later, the paint was gonna chip. And, as much as I hate to plan, I think we oughta get some idea about what's goin' down here. Guess it's time for a little Nancy Drewing.
Jeeves led us over to the kitchen table after what seemed like fuckin' forever. They had a kind of Fondue thing goin' on as an appetizer and hey, I like cheese. I like bread. So, I had my ass on a chair stat. I was all ready to start diggin' in. Turns out, the owners of this place were already there lookin' all picture perfect.
Guy looked about 50. Had black hair that was graying on the side and big brown eyes hidden away behind a pair of glasses. Looked normal enough. Except for the suit part. Guy had on some kinda overly fashionable old styled suit that made me raise a brow some. So, it ain't just the girls stuck with a blast from the past. Must be the lifestyle around here. Weird.
A woman sat beside him. Looked a few years younger, but wasn't no cheerleader… that's for sure. She had kinda a sharp look to her… like, the kind of chick who spends half her life at country clubs talkin' about flowers and Versace. Or, in her case… maybe she's still talkin' about the Confederate Flag. She had her obviously bleacher hair up in some fancy bun thing and her eyes were a cold blue that could cut right through ya. Even made me shudder. Fuck. She was stuck in a dress too… but hers was a Hell of a lot fancier and matched her eyes.
"Ladies, I would like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lance and Julianne Hadley. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley, this is, uh…" he stumbles some for our names. Guess Jeeves memory must be goin' at his semi old age.
"Willow Rosenberg," Willow interrupts him. Man, she even did a little curtsy thing.
I shrug, not really lookin' for the big hello's when I could be eating. "Faith." And when they look at me funny, I just smirk and add, "Just Faith."
"Well, it's nice to meet you ladies," the woman says in a southern drawl, but it wasn't all honey like the touchy seamstress is. Even her voice was hard and cold. And for real now? I think she'd rather have us out as soon as possible.
Husband was nicer though. Guy had a nice rich tone and actually sounded sincere in his dealings. "I hope ya'll enjoy our home. We haven't had visitors in quite a while. In fact, not many people venture to these parts. Everyone's all about Atlanta."
I snort. Yea, I can see why people wouldn't wanna "venture to these parts" anymore. Nothing but a bunch of hicks stuck in time long gone. They really oughta get hip to the times. Man, I can't wait till we head up Jersey and the Big Apple. Now, that's the kinda shit I'm used to.
"How old is your house?" Red asks, always the little historian. "I mean, you have all these statues and paintings and it's just amazing! It's like something totally out of a history book. You could even do tours here!"
Cold eyes huffs See, I told ya the chick was a wicked snob. "I'd rather not have to deal with a bunch of snot nosed children poking around in my home, thank you very much."
"Julianne…" her boytoy interrupts with a disapproving nod. Take that, bitch.
"Sorry," she rolls her eyes. "We enjoy our privacy Miss Rosenberg and most of the items in our home are genuine antiques. We have an extensive alarm system to keep them and us well protected from thieves and the like. Tours would only increase our chances of robbery."
"And to answer your question," the boytoy adds. "Our home was built in the late 1700's but has been built upon throughout the years and was renovated during the 1950's for modern appliances and the like. Our family inherited the home in the early 1900's. The family before ours were a part of the Underground Railroad and there are still passages to this day."
"Wow," I mutter, not really impressed with all this crap, but amazed how much he sounds like a tour guide sellin' us our all expenses paid vacation to paradise. "Talk about a tourist trap."
I get a dirty look from wifey. She could sense my sarcasm from a mile away I bet. It's a thing. And you know what? Come to think of it, she reminded me of an odler and blonder version of Lilah fuckin' Morgan. Lawyer who hired me to off Angel. No wonder I hated this bitch with a fuckin' passion already. So, I shoot her an equally angry glare and chow down at my Fondue. Not really givin' a fuck how unladylike my eating is.
Meanwhile, Willow's completely oblivious to our little stare down. Girls already well into geek heaven. Good for her. One of us oughtta enjoy the show here. But, before any of us have a chance to say much more - Jeeves interrupts with the main course.
Rest of dinner is filled with a lot of me eating, Willow and Lance talkin' up a storm, and the queen bitch boring holes into my head with her stare. Gee, I wonder if maybe she doesn't like me? You think? Jeeves stops in every now and then lookin' wicked uncomfortable. I gotta wonder what crawled up his ass and died in those few minutes between fondue and mashed potatoes.
When I'm finally stuffed - I drag Red out of there. I got a few little theories I'd like to discuss with her before her heads gets too stuffed with what she thinks of as historical goodies.