A Fishy End

Chapter 57

"It was nice of her to invite us," Holly said as she gathered up her crock.

Nicky nodded but didn't answer. She had taken to speaking less and less as the holiday season approached. Holly sighed and let it go. It was, after all, mostly her own fault.

Nikki bears some of the blame, at least, a small stubborn part of Holly's mind said. Despite trying more than a half dozen different meds, she still heard the chanting at times, still felt the presence, still lived with the crippling anxiety that came from knowing the beast was after her.

But it was Nicky that had pissed off Holly's family by constantly asking them about their mental-health history, insinuating they'd given Holly their bad genetics, or secretly abused her or some such shit. To top it off, Nicky had pissed off her own family by first telling them of Holly's cheating and then staying with her. Now it was Thanksgiving, and they were not welcome at either family's celebration.

They could always go to the local pride center, but Ashley had taken a job there. No way did Holly want to spend her Thanksgiving wedged between her wife and the woman she'd cheated with.

So when Lydia had invited them over, it seemed like a godsend. Nicky had been lukewarm to the idea but eventually agreed. Was Nicky suspicious that Holly was cheating on her with a woman more than twice her age?

They headed across the street. The first real snowfall of the year had been last night, but it left only a trace of white on the ground. The trees and bushes rattled noisily in the wind, and Holly was reminded of the raven that delivered the letter, months ago. Had that been real or another hallucination? She couldn't even trust her own memories anymore.

They knocked, and the door was opened by a tall, thin woman with long, blond hair and a pale face. Nicky gave Holly a sharp look, as if to ask if she knew that others would be here.

"Come in," the woman said. "I'm Melissa, by the way. I have no family locally, and Lydia was kind enough to invite me over."

"Holly! Nicky!" Lydia called from the kitchen. "It's good of you to come." She came bustling out with a platter of fresh-baked bread. She set it on the table and rushed to hug first Holly, then Nicky. "You've met Dr. West?"

"Doctor?" Nicky said.

"Please, just Melissa."

"Of course," Lydia said. "Melissa lives right around the corner from you guys. Moved in this summer. Come, have a seat. I have appetizers." She bustled around, getting them all seated and passing plates of some sort of vegan pastry. "Dinner is almost ready. Just waiting on Zoey."

"Zoey?" Nicky asked.

Holly nudged her. "You remember her daughter. She's not home?"

"She's so busy at that college," Lydia said, taking a seat at the table. "I swear, I've never seen the kid so eager to be part of everything. It's good, don't get me wrong. But she almost couldn't find the time to come home for Thanksgiving."

"It's a unique experience, Miskatonic," Melissa said.

"That's right, I forget, you've been there," Lydia said.

Melissa gave them a slight, regal nod. "Indeed. For the right person, it's a godsend. But not for everyone, clearly. Unconventional sort of place. Still I have fond memories. I only wish I could have done the whole of my medical studies there. They would have embraced . . ." She trailed off.

"So, Melissa," Nicky asked. "You live alone?"

"I do."

"Divorced," Lydia said, answering the unspoken question. "And Holly, how are you?" She turned to Melissa. "She's had some health problems."

Holly smiled. Nicky frowned; she didn't like to talk about Holly's problems. Holly liked the way that Lydia treated her mental-health issues like they were no different from any other sort of problem, like Holly had diabetes or high blood pressure. "We are trying some new meds, but no response yet," she replied. "Been trying to eat healthy, like you suggested. It does make me feel better. It does. But other than that . . ."

"If there is anything I can do?" Melissa offered.

"It's mental health," Nicky clarified, her voice cold.

"Not my specialty," Melissa conceded, her voice even, neutral—whether because she caught the mistrust in Nicky's voice or because of some attitude about mental health, Holly wasn't sure. "Still if you need advice. Doctors often talk over their patients' heads, instead of to them."

"Dr. Stevens is wonderful," Holly said. "Very kind. But yeah, I'll keep it mind. And thanks."

Their conversation was interrupted by a crash from upstairs. "Do you have cat or a dog?" Nicky asked, looking at the ceiling.

"Must be Zoey," Lydia said. "Just in time."

They heard footsteps from upstairs. Holly and Nicky exchanged looks. "I thought she was at college," Nicky said.

Melissa lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds like she is here now."

Holly's brow furrowed, but neither Lydia nor Melissa seemed to find the situation at all odd. If it hadn't been for Nicky's look, Holly would assume this was another hallucination, it seemed so surreal.

Moments later Zoey was indeed bustling down the stairs and into her mother's arms. She was wearing a dark-red, crushed-velvet skirt with tights underneath and a red blouse that blossomed in ruffles at the lapels and wrists. A dark traveling cape that came to mid-thigh completed her ensemble.

"Very Goth," Nicky muttered. Holly giggled, but she liked how Zoey looked—very mysterious with just a hint of playfulness.

Lydia introduced them all around, and they sat at the table to eat. Zoey bent over her food and said a quick prayer in some language Holly didn't know, but it made her startle, some of the sounds so close to the chanting she so often heard.

"Ancient Persian?" Melissa asked as they tucked into their food.

"Akkadian, actually," Zoey responded. "Finally getting to the point where I can read some of the oldest texts in their original form."

"Finally? It takes most people years of study."

"I've been studying for years," Zoey groused, as though this were an old argument.

Lydia just laughed, interrupting the conversation. "It's true," she said. "Even as a child, Zoey was fascinated with ancient books. We'd go to the library. Other kids would come back with some kid story; she'd come back with the Fall of the Roman Empire or some such. Loved looking at hieroglyphics and whatnot."