Mazzy's Guide To Using A Fairytale

Chapter Three

  "Hello there!" A friendly voice called, sending a trail of dread singing through Mazzy's soul.

Suddenly, she was feeling very chilled and faint. For a moment, Mazzy just stood at her front gate, staring at the ghost of her past that seemed to be present on her porch.

"Uh, Mazzy?" Obidiah glanced between Mazzy and the man. "You uh, you alright?"

Mazzy nodded, forcing a smile, she lifted her chin to an even height, trying to set off the discomfort that was dancing in her. 

"Hi!"  Pushing past the gate, Mazzy started up the walk. "Sorry, you just reminded me of someone I know."

Someone she knew very well, indeed. The familiar brown eyes that had a mischievous glint to them, his blond hair otherwise neat despite the one stray piece that fell with a turn just in front of his left eye. 

Even the build was similar; his height average, but his arms depicted somebody who had done more than sit behind a computer.

Trying to calm herself, Mazzy unlocked the door, mind searching for conversation. "I'm Mazzy, I don't believe we've met."

The man broke into a smile, Mazzy's heart skipping a beat. "I'm Milo Borgen."

Mazy pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Obidiah through, she contemplated the name for a moment. "Milo, huh?"

He gave a hesitant nod. "I-yeah..."

A few seconds of uneasy silence passed between the two.

"That's not your real first name, is it?"

"That's a brazen question."

"Maybe so. You still don't look like a Milo." Mazzy smirked, crossing her arms. "So what bring's you 'round here?"

"Just thought I'd drop some pastries by, your neighbor Mrs.Galesburg paid for them. She said you were taken' in some girls, and she thought that you could use some pastries to welcome them with?"

Mazzy let out a defeated sigh, resting her forehead on the side of the doorframe. "Mrs.Galesburg ain't nothin' but a meddler." The last thing she needed, was a lady who managed to consume endless coffee meddling in her business.

Oh, how quickly everybody in the town was getting on her nerves.

"Maybe so, but she did seem to mean it genuinely."

Mazzy sighed, crossing her arms. If nothing else, Mazzy supposed it would be a good idea to have a friend here in the town. Even if it would receive some smug looks from Mrs.Galesburg as she tried to convince herself that Mazzy might actually fall for her trap. "Well, you want to come on in, if you're not too busy?"

Milo hesitated "You aren't...going to keep picking on my name, are you?"

"Don't worry, I'll be a good host." Mazzy chuckled, stepping aside "For now."

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          "So, what made you move here?" Milo asked, reaching for the glass of iced tea that Mazzy sat in front of him. "Mr. Peters  was telling me that you were a bit of a world-class traveler."

Mazzy bit back a groan, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I'm a world-class at regretting things I do."

Milo smirked, "Oh c'mon now, you can't be serious."

Taking a sip of her drink, Mazzy's eyes flitted to the lake that stirred about from varying boat's movement. "No."

"So what did bring you out here?"

Giving a meager shrug, Mazzy ran her fingers across the countertop. "My grandmother passed away."

"O-oh, I'm so sorry." Milo shifted uncomfortably, glancing out the window, and then back at Mazzy.

Mazzy shook her head as if to shake away the bad memories. "She lived a good life, and she was happy. She'd probably resurrect herself to take me to the grave with her if I mourned her death."

Milo chuckled. "She sounds like quite the character."

"She was." Mazzy traced the grain of the wooden counters for a second, before meeting Milo's eyes that danced with the same mischievous glint as before. "Anyway, I inherited this mansion, and I couldn't imagine...not being able to return to my roots...so I decided to follow in her footsteps, and become a house mother."

Milo raised his eyebrows. "A house mother, really?"

"Oh come on, it's not that surprising." Mazzy crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at Milo.

"Well, you made fun of my name!"

"I made fun of your nick-name."

"I never confirmed that."

"But am I wrong?" Mazzy smirked.

Milo shook his head. "Guess you'll have to wait and see." Milo paused before continuing "To be completely honest, I'm just surprised that you would give up the job of traveling the world to settle...well...here."

Mazzy shrugged mutely, using her beverage as a distraction from the thoughts that threatened to cross her mind.

"Well, listen, I know I can't do too much, but I can say, if you need any final repairs around the house before they arrive, I'd be happy to help." Milo offered a smile, his voice easing the discomfort in the room. "My dad used to be a handyman, and taught me a thing or two."

Only a fool would pass up free help just before such a pivotal moment. Mazzy broke into a grin. "Well, I have some of the boys from church coming to finish my patio and dock tomorrow, maybe you can swing by and supervise them?" Mazzy's logical side wanted to argue that he could in fact, be a serial killer. 

But then, in a town like this, that's one of the many secrets the smallest slip up would make hard to keep.

And anyway, Mazzy couldn't look at everybody negatively.

So, she settled on a time with Milo, and the two let their time together come to an end, leaving Mazzy to prepare for the strain of tomorrow. 

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        Mazzy never officially woke up to the next day; mainly because she never really went to sleep. Though she was usually very relaxed and had tried her hardest to be upbeat about her decision, her thoughts had made her anxious, and she was wondering if she had, perhaps, made the biggest mistake in her life? Applying a layer of chapstick to her lips, Mazzy examined the living room. The bright teals and warm reds usually brought a certain type of excitement, but currently, she was feeling dread. Who was she to be taking a bunch of impressionable girls through the most vulnerable times in their life? She had just gotten out of the mistake from a juvenile decision herself. 

"God, give me peace, give me a sign that this-" A knock from the knocker sounded, interrupting her prayer, and, in a sense, confirming it.

Sliding her chapstick into her pocket, Mazzy brushed a few strands of her red hair out of her face, before opening the door. Before her stood a taller blonde, with a slender figure, which the girl held with a stance that Mazzy could only assume was the stance of a ballerina. "Ah, you must Ellanor?" 

She nodded, her lips tugging at the ends, she glanced back at the man coming up the stairs of the steps. "Why don't you come in?"

Mazzy had officially decided; she was certainly in over her head.