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WITH THE PROMPT SMACK OF A CAR DOOR SHUTTING, Romy was alerted to the fact that her Aunt Meg was now likely approaching the them as they stood on the front lawn of the house, but she had no idea of the degree of her anger, or how she would lash out upon her niece.
"Romilda Yves!" She squawked, swinging her arms surely with clenched fists on the ends of them as she marched over, in a beige turtleneck sweater that matched her skin in a shade so similar that it was borderline uncomfortable to look at, and demanded, "You get your scrawny little ass over here this instant!"
"Meg!" Romy said incredulously, with chiding tones rising to the surface of her voice, praying that her aunt would stop embarrassing her in front of her friends. And, looking back, it was quite an irrational thing to be thinking about at the time, as they'd just had an awful encounter with the thing. She twisted her jaw.
Before receiving a prompt smack across her face, that caused her skin to sear and blush. "You heard me," Meg scoffed, grimacing at all the grime that had lathered Romy's clothes, only imagining that she'd have to chip in on taking her orange corduroy jacket to the laundrette, "Goodness, look at the state of you! What on Earth have you been doing?!"
Luckily, as Romy was stumped for an answer as she delicately touched where her skin burned, her aunt forcibly shoved her into the car, dunking her head down to make her sit in the back seat. The windows were rolled down, and because of that, she could hear the conversation between Sonia Kapsbrak and her friends.
The podgy woman clutched little injured Eddie like a lifeline, holding him by his good arm as her young son cradled his other with a pained look twisting his features. She placed a bloated hand onto his shoulders, "You," she managed, pointing to Bill, her finger progressing across all of the children except for Romy, who wore a disdainful look in the back seat of the automobile, "All of you. You know how delicate he is."
"We were attacked, M-M-Mrs K," Bill made an attempt to defend them all, knowing all too well that his words would soon be countered by the he's fragile argument. Eddie wasn't all that fragile — he was quite robust, actually. Romy had grown to see through that façade of fragility.
Mrs K cut him off without any consideration as to what he may have been trying to explain. Romy could hear her spiteful words pouring through the wound-down window, as she scolded, "Don't try to blame it on anyone else."
She turned and fumbled with her car keys to try and shove them into the door lock, accidentally dropping them onto the concrete with a small metallic clink. Nicely, Beverly bent down to pick up the keys, but Sonia batted her the redhead's hand away from her belongings, as the girl offered, "Let me help —"
"Get back," the helicopter mother hissed, as if touching Beverly would trigger the spread of some horrible, contagious disease that would infect both herself and her boy, "I've heard of you, Miss Marsh, and I don't want a dirty girl like you touching my son."
