call me beth

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“Ok, ok, ok,” she repeated as she put her free hand up into the air as some sort of show of defeat, “You can pay for the mean, but,” she countered, “You have to pick the place. It’s only fair.” Sydney absolutely adored her nieces, she would never grow tired of spoiling them, but even so, she held the older one close to the title of friend. “Maybe we can find something silly to watch too. I work tomorrow morning, I get off around 2 so anytime after that would be good for me. Or even this weekend would be good.” She tossed a smile towards the blonde as they walked up towards the door of the spa before she opened and held it open for Beth, “Nieces first!”‘ she exclaimed with a goofy smile dancing on her lips. Sydney waited for Beth to enter the lobby before she, too, followed her inside. Once at the desk the older woman rang the little bell situated neatly on the counter, “Oh,” she squeaked as the desk clerk round the corner, “I brought an extra with me! Hope that’s ok…I just want my regular,” she turned towards Beth, “And Beth would like?”

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Beth smiled broadly, her face lighting up as she pretending to pout in thought. “If you let me pick the place, we’re going to end up Chez Naomi so that I can indulge in chocolate soufflés— it might be better if you chose— unless you have no complaints?” Sydney’s easy happiness was contagious, and she let herself forget her worries, if only for a moment. “This weekend could be good— I don’t want you to have to entertain me immediately after work.” As the doors to the spa opened, Beth turned her smile to the desk clerk. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like to have whatever treatment Sydney  usually goes for.” If they were going to spend a day in the spa together, might as well learn what her aunt finds most relaxing— maybe it work wonders on her too. God, she hoped so.

Chez Naomi had always been Brookes favourite place. The atmosphere was quiet and calm and no matter where you sat there was always a decent view, but now? The whispers, the stares? Brooke felt more anxiety than she ever had in the restaurant, only staring at her food the entire time people whispered the entire time. How was this anyone elses business? She couldn’t figure it out but the last thing she wanted to do was create more of a scene than her presence had. What was so different about her now than a few weeks ago? She was still the same person, at least to herself.

It wasn’t until she heard her sisters voice did her head pop up, only to be surprised at the older blondes reaction. Truth being, she was so glad that Beth was home to support her and the second her sister came back over toward her, she nodded. Grabbing her coat, the teenager nodded, tossing it on and then throwing a couple bills on the table for her snacks. Quickly with her head down, she exited the restaurant only turning toward her sister once they were out on the side walk. “Mom is totally gonna be one of those people, Beth. She’s gonna pretend to be concerned but in the long run think it’s fucked up.”

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Beth smiled at familiar faces as she exited the restaurant, the action more automatic than anything— her mind was far more occupied with getting Brooke out of Chez Naomi. They finally made it to the side-walk, and she felt herself beginning to relax, only to pause at the mention of their mother. Anger and frustration threatened to bubble up within her at the anxiety their mother had created in Brooke. It wasn’t right, and Brooke shouldn’t feel like this just for being who she is— especially about their own mother.

“If she says anything, we can shut her down. And don’t spend too much time agonizing over it Brooke—  if you feel like you need to speak to her, speak to her. But, you need to remember that she makes her own decisions, and her decisions aren’t a reflection of your worth, but of her ideas, okay?” Her head was bent towards her sister, her back facing the street as if she was trying to protect Brooke from any and every prying eye. “If you want me to talk to her, I can too, but you have to do what’s best for you.” She tugged her younger sister into a warm and tight hug— and god, it felt like yesterday that she’d been running with Brooke in the park, playing in the grass. “I love you, okay? No matter what. And I know you love mom, and I know deep down you want her to be happy for you, but you have to think of yourself, and Peyton, first.”

He couldn’t imagine generating enough care to actively try and fool the whole of Wisteria Lane. He hadn’t even tried to generate enough to get through ordering a cup of coffee and that was just a limited amount of people. There wasn’t enough money in the world for him to ever try. Though maybe the entertainment would come from the reactions of those who knew what he really was like. It still just wasn’t enough. His lack of enjoyment wouldn’t be something new to this town. Did authenticity exist? “I think my mind would prefer to suffer in a different way.”

“You were raised here, of course they think that.” There had to be some psychological phenomena that explained small town logic. The same phenomena that explained the switch that flipped in Beth at the moment. Maybe it was an absence of privacy of healthy privacy. The entire town was functioning in some aspects of privacy but God only knew how much of that was a result of really just hiding their deals with the devil from the rest of the town. “I’m not sure that’s love.” He wasn’t sure what it was either but it seemed more bent on conditions than anything else. It was easier to humanize someone when they failed, obviously, but if their love was dependent on humanizing Beth or anyone else, it seemed like a subtle manipulation. It wasn’t PTSD was it? The phenomena or small town logic. Even just hearing bits of experiences in this godforsaken town, it did ring a little like trauma. Nathan let out a snort at her next words. “That name is insignificant the moment you step out of here.” If anyone knew it, it was Beth. That last name accounted for just a last name outside of the unhealthy environment and yet she wore it like a badge. Not that she shouldn’t be proud, but the pressure of a last name wasn’t worth trading in your sanity. 

“It’s more of a life reward for being your uncle than a talent.” Although he couldn’t lie, he had invested more time into finding new ways and moves to beat her with. Nathan just couldn’t take the possibility that Beth would ever beat him, not while he was still capable of all his faculties. He scoffed, offended, mostly proud, and slightly impressed. “Evil. If I didn’t know better, those would be fighting words, Elizabeth.” He’d have to get a beware of dog sign, he didn’t have a dog but maybe it would scare people off. “Don’t let them think my resting bitch face doesn’t work, I’d have to actively scowl and that requires more muscles.” He laughed. Perhaps he should prepare himself if she ever resorted to such tactics.

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Beth nodded, conceding the point. “No, it’s definitely not love, but we all say that it is.” It honestly baffles her, how the word love is so regularly used to describe things that do not represent love in the slightest. It’s just expectations and conformity wrapped up in pretty bows. A part of her wanted to curl away in disgust, or vehemently reject the personality she was known for in Fairview. But she couldn’t. It was so intrinsically tied to her, tied to her identity and tied to her understanding of family that she couldn’t help but wonder if it was even possible to strip all of it from her person. Besides, she could admit to herself that there were aspects of her personality that felt real... And yet, what was even more difficult was reconciling the young lady she is in Fairview with the young woman she was at university— her core values never wavered, and yet the way she presented herself changed— she wondered what her uncle thought, having been privy to both ‘sides’ of her, so to speak. Perhaps one day she would ask, when she wasn’t such a coward.

A small scoff escaped her as her uncle continued to speak. “I’m fairly certain that in Fairview, most people are more likely to remember my surname before my actual name.” Though, in their defense, Elizabeth wasn’t necessarily a stand-out name. There had been quite a few Elizabeths in high school during the same time, but surprisingly she’d been the only Elizabeth in her grade. Small miracles. “Hell— I’m pretty sure most people know exactly where I live.” Small towns truly are a different world, especially in the suburbs. God knows that she can’t fathom having so many people knowing exactly where her dorm is. In cities, there’s a sense of privacy that small towns do not afford— and so people devise their own ways to create privacy. The Ashworth’s way was to present themselves as picture-perfect households that look as if they’d been pulled out of the pages of a misogynistic magazine from the 50s— but it works. It works amazingly.

Beth laughed, the sound loud and open as her uncle presented the idea of beating her at chess as a life reward for being her uncle. “Maybe we can take this up in the ring,” she replied, her fists coming up as she fell into a boxing stance, before she laughed once more and continued walking. It had been too long since she’d properly worked out, and she couldn’t help but miss the physical exertion— and God, it would be so freeing. “Careful now, if you actively scowl you might just end up attracting more attention. Housewives get bored, you know? A new face with a perma-scowl might be the exact kind of excitement they think they want in their lives.” It was a stereotype, but one that seemed to actually be true.

——-

“You wouldn’t be imposing!” she exclaimed, grabbing hold of Beth’s arm tightly, “I would love to have the company honestly….I promise.” Spa days weren’t something that Sydney often took; today was a sort of special occasion. She needed to relax. “And don’t worry about the cost…I got it, plus I got to spoil my nieces. Have to make up for all those years I didn’t get to, ya know?” a soft laugh slipped out of her lips. She knew how much her husband didn’t care for the older niece, however, that didn’t mean she had to share the same feelings. Besides she had a small inkling that the reason was that Charlie perhaps saw a little too much of himself in the blonde. “I bought some new wine recently as well if you want to swing by my house afterwards? Or maybe another day after the spa? Wouldn’t want to steal you away from your parents for too long.”

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The earnestness of Sydney’s words won her over, and she smiled gently, covering the brunette’s hands with her own. “Then I’d be happy to join you— and if you’re paying for the spa, then I’m paying for whatever meal we end up having afterwards, deal?” Beth couldn’t let her pay for everything. At the mention of new wine, an even broader smile grew on her face. “I can come over anytime. They won’t miss me too much, and besides, we can make a day out of it. I’ll bring some from our own cabinet, so that we can have some variety.” A part of her worried for Sydney, being thrust into this unforgiving environment, but she couldn’t help but be selfishly grateful for the older woman’s presence in her Fairview life.

So she had heard everything. Emily shook her head, cursing herself for not thinking that her and Brooke were the only ones in the house. “Why else? Unsatisfied, unfulfilled, self-loathing bored housewife has an affair to try and make her life seem more interesting than it actually is.” There were a million of excuses running through her mind, countless empty phrases that she could blame her lack of judgement on. She was drunk, she was sad, none of it would be the truth. And it wouldn’t answer any of the questions that her daughter currently had, or worse, it would answer them and she would dig herself a deeper hole. “I’m sorry that you are finding out like this, really I am. I should have told you and your sister together.” Her words were genuine no matter how much her calm exterior wasn’t. She was hoping her and Andrew would sit the girls down together or even just Emily herself, but that her dirty laundry would come from the source itself. Not to be blindsided with a confrontation with her youngest daughter, and have the oldest one only a floor away getting to hear every word of it. Emily supposes she lost the right to getting to dictate her privacy when she kept things from her family. “You must have a million questions. Or did Brooke pretty much ask everything you wanted to know in between her yelling at me?” 

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A flicker of rage coursed through her at the almost dismissive way her mother had replied. While the words may have been better than falsities and excuses, it wasn’t the full story. It clearly wasn’t. Her mother had chosen to have an affair with Charles. That’s not boredom. Her mother must have known what that would do to Brooke, to father, to everyone. Still, Beth stayed quiet, listening as Emily continued to speak— and not once did her mother apologize for what she did. Her mother had apologized for not telling her with Brooke, but not for the affair. That was more damning than anything else her mother could have said. Her hurt, her pain, her anger, her everything threatened to rise up within her, but she pushed it down, so far down— it needed to wait. A part of her, the child within her, wanted to scream and break glass like Brooke had. Brooke had said exactly what she’d felt— what had been the fucking point if this fucking family was crumbling anyways? But her mother didn’t need her exploding emotions. Nobody needed her exploding emotions. It needed to wait. She needed to wait until she wasn’t— wasn’t in this stupid fucking house.

Beth let the silence sit between them for a moment longer. It was deafening— but finally, she opened her mouth to speak. “If you were bored with your life, you could’ve picked up a hobby. Or, if you were so intent on having an affair, you could’ve picked some biker from End Zone, or a patron of Temptation’s. Instead, you had an affair with Uncle Charles. Dad’s brother. Brooke’s favorite person in the world. A recently wedded man. That’s not boredom. That’s deliberate. That’s an attack.” Her voice was tight, controlled—colder than it had ever been before towards her mother, but controlled all the same. She sat up straight, prim and proper, the way she’d been taught all her life. “So, I’m asking again. Why did you do it?” What had her mother said? ‘Unsatisfied, unfulfilled, self-loathing, bored’. It’s too simple. There had to be more, more that she was willing to say. She’d heard what her mother had said to Brooke, all the secrets she’d spilled when pushed. But what would her mother say when she had time to think? To formulate thoughts? Beth knew that she may not like what she would hear, but she had to hear it.

Nathan couldn’t help the smile that placed itself after her response. What a great bet that would be, to see how long he would last faking his way through Fairview, obviously assuming no one else had seen his treatment in that coffee shop. “And how long do you think I would last?” A week would be believing in him more than anyone should. Maybe more accurate would be an hour or two. Maybe if a clear distraction and motivation he could push himself longer. “Maybe you’re right about fooling you, but you haven’t beat me at chess yet.” A trivial point, but a point nonetheless.

“They often are.” He added, clearly speaking about the dogs. He didn’t miss the small moment of hesitation but knew better than to try and take back or cover up what he had said. Especially when he had meant what he said. The last thing Beth needed was for him to add himself to the list of lying adults around her, not when she was one herself. Especially not when it was clear that she was often smart enough to pick it up on her own. But manipulation had been an easy word. Or society had seemingly made it bad, as if most of society wasn’t covering up their own forms of manipulation on the daily. “No wonder they love you already, you’ve been practicing this for years,” he quipped. Moving to Fairview was supposed to help make things make sense, but that was like joining a circus and expecting to not become a clown wasn’t it? It’s nearly impossible to make sense from the senseless. “Maybe you’ll have to teach me that skill, I wouldn’t mind adding another talent to my book.” He gave her a slight nudging, hoping she’d understand a little better what his intentions were by his original statement. Women’s fashion. It never makes sense. The cup was brought to his lips, a hope to stifle the thoughts that threatened to spill.

The little genius had a point, it was clear she knew it too. Still, he rolled his eyes. “I feel like the only small talk I’d get would be someone telling me my aura is uninviting.” Otherwise his resting face wasn’t doing it’s job correctly.

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She studied her uncle, her lips pursed in thought. How long would her uncle last? She wasn’t sure, and while she figured he might not be able to keep the charade up for long, she also knew that he could be determined when he wanted to be. “If you put your mind to it, I think you’d be able to fool Fairview for a while. Whether you’d enjoy doing so is a different matter altogether.” But then again, happiness seemed temporary in Wisteria Lane regardless— or perhaps she was looking at everything through a biased lens. Disenchantment with her hometown had grown once she’d left to go to university, and it had grown even more when Mrs. Moore’s death had reached her ears.

Her expression turned firm at his next words. “It’s easy for them to love me. They think they know everything about me.” Fairview had seen her through her outwardly awkward stages. They were there to see her as a little girl, shyly hiding behind her father during Ashworth parties (before elementary school changed things.) They knew about her initial inability to do well in chemistry— those whispers hadn’t stopped until she’d buckled down and taught herself how to balance equations. They’d known she’d gotten rejected by her first crush in middle school. Hell, half of them still believed that she’d mostly stayed home before leaving Fairview for university because she’d been so heartbroken about being broken up with immediately after graduation. “They think they’ve seen me at my worst, and it’s easier to love someone ‘perfect’ when you’ve seen them fail.” And so, when she’d graduated as salutatorian (not valedictorian, she isn’t that perfect), as head cheerleader with a perfect quarterback boyfriend and a willingness to help anyone who asked, they felt that her ‘perfection’ was all the more deserved. She wasn’t an evil mastermind— It wasn’t like she’d planned all of this out, but it was the way things had unfolded, and Beth could admit to herself that she preferred being loved, no matter how superficially, than being shunned and looked down upon for being too perfect. “Besides, I’m an Ashworth. It’s what we do.” Her voice took on an affected air as she turned to her uncle, trying her best to look as haughty as possible.

The snobbish air was quickly traded for a groan. “You already have so many talents— like... beating me at chess, every—single—time. I will win against you one day, I swear.” A cheeky grin crossed her face as she laughed, a horrible idea forming. “Perhaps I should tell everybody that you’re actually the nicest person ever and that you just have terrible resting bitch face. You’ll get so frustrated by everybody talking to you and asking you for favors that the next time we play chess, you’ll be off your rhythm— and then I’ll win.” Of course, she’d never do such a thing, but the idea made her inwardly snort.