It was the first week of November, someone had just been murdered. Thanksgiving apparently didn’t exist anymore and the young woman didn’t want it to after last year. Lord knows she had prayed over it a thousand times at least and begged for forgiveness. Nothing was the same anymore and she couldn’t hide from her sins. The only thing making it even worse was Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You.

“I just don’t know.” The brunette gave a hefty sigh, looking down at the traditionally anal wrap job her mother had done. Not a single piece of scotch tape in site. She hoped her mother wouldn’t notice the crinkles her fingertips had created in the paper. “Do you think it looks okay?”

“Hey. This is your friendly check that you haven’t overindulged and you’re not feeling emotionally messy.” Austin remembered how he’d met Damaris- a night kind of like this, only it was more like a bar and less fancy. And he’d well, been trying to hit on her, only for him to instead get invested in psychoanalyzing her.

It was a bad habit. He was supposed to be working on not doing that.

“But like, if you are, that’s okay, and you can share to me if you want.” Not because he wanted to pick her brains. Not at all. He was just here, caring for a friend, not thinking about making a therapist profile at all.

@damarisbailey·

Damaris, mouth seemingly frozen in a trouty frown, nodded in gratitude. There was hardly anybody else in town who hadn’t known about what happened to her. Even though Damaris wanted nothing more than to put it behind her, she couldn’t seem to stop talking about it. She was appreciative to have someone to talk to. Maybe for once, she could have a close friend who truly wants to understand. 

A petite sniffle echoed in the almost empty glass of Malibu Sunset. Drinks that were sweet were dangerously high in alcohol content. The faithful knew that and was actively ignoring it.

in the land of gods and monsters ~

At the offer of wine, Elle nodded her head with a smile. To say that she’d shown up to Damaris’ apartment completely sober would be a lie. She’d had a glass (or two) of wine before she’d made her way over there. It was something that had become a necessity to get through each day as of late. Elle wasn’t proud of it, but she did what she had to do.

With the glasses poured, Elle took hers and sipped it slowly. She could always count on Damaris to have something just a little more fruity than what she would usually pick for herself.

When she was younger, being compared to a Disney princess would’ve been everything, but now not so much. Sure, she wanted to look like an absolute dream on her wedding day, but she actually wanted the man she was marrying to be her prince – and it was clear that she couldn’t have it both ways. Her princess dream became more of a nightmare with each passing day, and as much as she wished that she could be as excited about it was Damaris was, she just couldn’t. But, she’d become good at faking it. “Oh, please. You’d look just as stunning.” She countered, shaking her head. “You’re an absolute beauty, D.”

Thinking back to all of the dresses that she’d tried on, Elle tried to think of her favourites. “I haven’t picked out a definite winner, but a few of the finalists are A-line. Do you want to see some pictures?” She asked, but pulled out her phone before Damaris could answer.

.

Damaris blushed, flattered a little by Elle’s insistence but knew she could never compete with someone like Elle. There was a natural grace to her... Like a doe. And Damaris was an awkward freshly birthed fawn learning how to walk for the first time. 

Damaris drank as she talked, unclear what the actual alcohol content of this wine was because it definitely just tasted like peach juice. It wasn’t exactly gulping but an audible noise could be heard as she sipped. She didn’t care. She felt like they both knew that this was a safer space than the higher class family dinners. 

Placing the glass down on the table, Demi’s fingers flared outwards and she began to wave her hands about excitedly. Damaris had always wanted close friends to have weddings. She wondered if anybody in her close circle could even think about getting married.

“Please?” She gasped, jaw open, hands finally clasping together. “Are you in them or are they online?”

Maybe there was a lesson to be learned somewhere in the mess Mari had made of things with Damaris. Something about keeping in touch, not making assumptions about your worth to someone else… that it was okay to be vulnerable.

Marianne had a lot of pretty words that were suddenly coming to mind, but she voiced none of them. Instead she returned Damaris’ smile, a small nod accompanying the expression.

Sometimes one didn’t need words to convey what truly mattered.

Mari had caught the hesitation with the hug, though. It would have been difficult to not, truly, with Damaris’ outstretched arms hovering just outside of her ever-present personal bubble. And while perhaps a majority of the time she would have politely declined, for the briefest of moments Mari had been saddened that Damaris hadn’t just gone for it. There was still a wall that they were going to have to dismantle, but they’d at least made a solid start.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can hug me,” she insisted, an exception to her general no touching rule made due to both the circumstances (one participant drunk, a festive atmosphere, a reconciliation) and the person.

To make it even more clear just how fine with it she was, Mari was the one to wrap her arms around Damaris first.

“I should have prefaced - I don’t think I’m great at hugging. I am… out of practice,” she murmured into the embrace. “But also thank you for asking.”

.

Damaris smiled and sighed, eyes closing for a moment with arms wrapped around Marianne. It wasn’t the same as before but it was different. It was more adult. It wasn’t about being in any type of intellectual box, it was just about being friends. Baby steps were at least steps. 

After a moment of hugging, Damaris pulled back and looked Mari in the eyes, a sweet smile on her face. Consent was always the right way to go. And Damaris knew how that felt. With nobody close enough to even offer a hug, it felt like an unlearned closeness. It wasn't for lack of wanting physical affection. It's just that physical affection felt like a reward for good behavior.

“’m glad we can do thiz. And it’s ssooo magical that it happened dunight.” Maybe it was a bit corny but it felt like the right place and timing for such a thing. 

“We should get together for coffee and figure out some fun stuff to do together.” 

WHO: Teddy & @damarisbailey· WHERE: Damaris’ Apartment

Teddy wasn’t sure he had a best friend, but if he did, it was Damaris. They’d been close as kids, and she’d been one of the only people he’d kept in touch with when he’d moved out of state. Despite their fake childhood weddings, Teddy saw Damaris as the sister he never had, and he’d missed her a lot when he was gone. But, now he was back, and getting to see her often was definitely one of the highlights.

Despite the distance, they’d always called each other whenever they could, sharing all the big moments, and talking for hours about what was going on in their lives. It was a friendship that meant more to Teddy than he knew how to put into words, a connection to home that he didn’t know he needed. When his grandmother had told him that she was moving back to Gravewood, Damaris was the first person he told. She helped make the move more bearable, and helped him find his footing again in the town he’d left behind. 

It was after lunch when Teddy arrived at her apartment, a few extra ingredients in bag to assist in their afternoon baking endeavours. It had become something of a tradition – the two getting together and doing something fun together while they caught up on the previous week. 

He knocked on the door before opening it, letting himself in. “Damaris?” He called out as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “It’s me, and I brought the extra eggs you asked for.”

.

Damaris emerged from her bedroom like a Disney princess, rushing to Teddy to grab the eggs in the bag they were in. She knew he would be up at some point but wasn’t quite sure when. Damaris had been casually piddling and tidying until he had made his way up. 

“Thank you so much!” She celebrated, giving Teddy a casual Christian side-hug. “Now you let me know when you’re ready to start the meringue. It won’t take very long but we have a lot of time to hang out so it’s honestly whatever.” 

Damaris made her way across the living room into the kitchen and placed the eggs in the fridge next to the few eggs she had left that sat in a small glass bowl on the top shelf. Reaching down to the bottom, she grabbed the bottle of cranberry juice that sat on the bottom shelf. 

“Do you want some juice? Actually hold on - I have a surprise for you!” She placed the juice on the counter and went to the wall pegs that held various aprons that she used for different types of foods. 

“Okay, take off your jacket, close your eyes and hold out your arms like you’re gonna hug me.” 

One of the things that Elle loved about Damaris was that she was good, she was kind, and there were never any expectations that came along with spending time with her. However, there were times where Elle felt bad about lying to her. And she often felt like Damaris saw her in a way that was far from reality. But, she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the illusion and come clean.

In a way, keeping the lie going made it easier. Elle almost wondered if she kept it going long enough, maybe she’d start believing it herself. It hadn’t worked so far, but she’d come too far now to quit. At least not without a perfect plan. Which was something she didn’t have just yet.

Elle smiled softly at Damaris. “Thank you, that really means a lot.” She nodded. Listening to the idea, Elle thought for a moment, trying her hardest to think of someone she knew that could come close to being a good match for her. But, everyone she’d met through her fiancé were simply not good enough for the woman in front of her. “I’m sure we can figure something, or someone, our for you. Absolutely. We’ll find you the most amazing date for the wedding, no one will even be looking at me because they’ll be looking at you.”

.

Damaris nodded before leaning forward to pop open the bottle of peach wine that sat on the coffee table. She twisted the top off and poured some into one of her glasses, gesturing to Elle as a sort of question without interrupting. The idea of having more than she thought she could felt like a dangerous path down the wrong path. After all, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” Matthew 19:24. Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to push down that path. 

After the two glasses were poured, Damaris left the bottle open on the table for it to air out - even though it was the cheap kind. 

“Elle, I would never upstage you at your wedding, as if anyone could. You’re like a real life Cinderella! Or a Rapunzel. You’re so pretty that even if I were wearing a custom made Versace dress.” Ooh, a dress. 

“Have you picked out a dress yet? Is it mermaid? A-line? Sheath, maybe? I think a mermaid cut would look just stunning on you.”

The more Damaris struggled to speak, the more Marianne began to wonder if she’d said the wrong thing. She hadn’t had the best track record of saying the right one that evening, so her default was to think a little more negatively of herself. Ten sips of red wine, spread out across hours, had not been enough to loosen her up.

It seemed like Damaris had had enough alcohol for the both of them, though.

(Seriously… was she pregnant? It was very concerning.)

Listening intently to what Damaris had to say, Mari paused at the end of the girl’s drunken ramble. It wasn’t hard to translate the slurred words. What was hard was working through what that meant for them.

Was their friendship salvageable? Or were they destined for a lifetime of missed opportunities and miscommunications, accidental distancing and Mari’s notorious ghosting?

“I know what it’s like to have very few people on your team,” Marianne acknowledged, doing her very best to not let the silence between them get awkward. It didn’t exist because she didn’t know what to say; it existed because there was too much. “Or, at least, to feel like that.”

There was nothing that could retroactively change that feeling… but what was important was looking ahead, right?

Mari’s tone was light as she spoke up again, the words she was about to offer a carefully held out olive branch. She didn’t think Damaris was about to reject any of her ideas, but Mari had always done her best to avoid setting herself up for even the possibility of rejection. Vulnerability did not run in her family.

“What if… we just start over? I know it’s super cliché, but… we can keep the good, ditch out on the bad, and take things from there. A clean slate for the new year.”

.

Damaris exhaled a sigh of relief as Mari built the bridge the rest of the way. Their coffee had felt like a lifetime ago and maybe they both had grown a considerable amount since high school. Damaris knew that she had, at least. They were strangers getting reacquainted with each other. It was okay if the kinks weren’t fully worked out yet. Time would be the only thing that could heal that, right? 

“I think thassa great idea.” Damaris smiled warmly, leaning forward to instinctually give Mari a hug but then it occurred to her that Marianne may not actually want a hug. She stopped, hesitating, arms outstretched but not moving forward. Maybe Mari was just saying things like that because she wanted the conversation to be over. Maybe their relationship wouldn’t change after. 

Even if they couldn’t be the same, Damaris was going to let herself have this nice New Year’s moment.

“Can... I hug you?”

- - -

Damaris Bailey was exactly the kind of girl Mack never thought in a thousand years would come to a place like Hard Times. In fact, the offer had been born of boredom, a typical Saturday night where she sat at home, partially hiding from texting her boyfriend, and partially trying to come up with a reason to be away from her parents. Her investigations may be leading her.. somewhere, but her parents hadn’t budged.

But here they were, dancing, and screaming lyrics to songs way too loudly, but the tequila healed sore voice boxes and made everything feel the right kind of buzzy. “No problem!” She yelled back, trying not to act surprised at the words, “You should totally lean into the whole experience, though. Let loose.”

Mack interlinked their fingers together, giving Damaris’ hand a little tug to dance with her. “Lets dance together!”

.

“I thought I was!” Damaris’ brows furrowed and she looked around the room. She thought she had been leaning into the experience and she had loosened quite a bit already. As she was dragged to the dance floor, she giggled in anticipation and felt her guard drop just a little bit more. The only thing that would have made the moment more liberating would be if they were from the town in Footloose.

As Damaris began to move her body to the beat, she thought about what Mack had said just a little bit more. The whole experience? Experience of what? It didn’t matter. Bodies were moving and sweat was building. It smelled like alcohol and the floor felt like sticky. Maybe this was the experience. 

Maybe it was the hangover she had gotten from her night out with Jamie, but Hope was not a fan of being wasted. And, not whatever state Damaris had managed to get to tonight. Not that Hope was judging, neither of them were known for their ability to hold their liquor, so it was inevitable with two lightweights going out for the evening. But, Hope being responsible for an overly intoxicated Damaris? That was not on her bingo sheet for the year. 

“I mean, maybe a little,” Hope mused, her own mind still a little hazy from the alcohol. Damaris losing her shoes and her jacket were reasonable, Hope stopping to scoop up the discarded heels from the floor. 

She did not expect to look up to see Damaris trying to take her skirt off in the middle of the hallway. Sure, it wasn’t like it was the middle of the day or anything, but that was no reason to walk around with no pants on. 

“Whoa, Damaris,” Hope started, grabbing the zipper on the skirt, and starting it back the other way, “Don’t you think we should wait till we get to your bedroom? So we can put you in some shorts or something? That sounds like the better idea, right?”

.

Damaris’ head tilted back in frustration, a whiney groan buzzing her mask. Matted lips pursed and she continued to clomp as loudly and as quickly as she could barefooted down the hallway to her door. At this point, she felt like Hope was her mom and she wasn’t being allowed a sense of freedom - toddler like qualities shaping Damaris’ frame. 

Looking back at Hope, who had collected all of her things, Damaris waited impatiently - Marge Simpson like noises escaping her nose as her eyebrows furrowed. The woman was the spitting image of a troll doll’s face squished in half. She only hoped that her friend would hurry up so she could lay butt naked in the air conditioning under the blankets.

“It’s definitely not nothing.” Elle said quickly, not wanting Damaris to downplay the obvious effort she’d put into the evening. It was far more than Elle had been expecting, but she liked that Damaris seemed to be just as excited as she was.

As she looked over the spread, she took a few mental notes. No doubt she would be expected to put on little things like this from time to time once she was a married woman, and since her mother had never been one to put in that kind of effort (she’d rather hire people to do it for her), Elle didn’t really have much to base things on.

Sitting down next to Damaris, Elle made herself comfortable, tucking her legs up under her. “The new place is great, we’re basically all unpacked now. Future hubby is great too, he’s a dream, a total gentleman.” It was almost concerning how easy it came to lie, but she wasn’t about to start droning on about how unhappy she really was. “It’s more than I ever could’ve imagined.”

.

Damaris couldn’t help but smile. Elle had the life that she was told and taught to want. Her parents were confused why Damaris wasn’t married to or at least dating a nice man at this point. Damaris didn’t know why her luck with men was so bad in the town but, she could only hope to find the knight in shining armor that Elle had landed. The extra money wouldn’t hurt either. 

She sighed dreamily, hands cupping around her cheeks. Even though the envy bubbled a bit behind her chest, she pushed forward trying to be a supportive friend. She knew that it all couldn’t be sunshine and roses but if Elle was telling her that he was a gentleman and a dream, there couldn’t be much room for argument. Maybe he really was that amazing. 

“I’m so happy for you!” Damaris tilted her head to the side, an idea popping into her head. “You’ll have to set me up with someone you guys know... I don’t know, a mutual friend or something. Someone respectful and kind. I can’t imagine there’s somebody I don’t already know but... Maybe?” 

“Cheers!” Damaris chimed, tongue grazing the back of her hand where the salt sat. The shot glass hit the top of the bar with a small *clink* that could barely be heard above the blaring music. Her mouth bit the lime and and shook at the flavor, hoping her lipstick hadn’t been ruined by the process. After three shots, it was bound to be at least a little smudged. She hadn’t gone to the bathroom to check.

The newcomer began to move her hips to the beat and despite never having danced in a setting like this, Damaris was surprisingly not too awkward of a dancer. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing a few familiar faces. That made her smile. In the back of her mind, she hadn’t expected to see so many faces from high school but then again, everybody had their secrets. 

“Thanks for inviting me!” Damaris yelled, leaning in closer to Mack.  “This is super fun!” 

“That wasso mudge fun! Wasnthat so mudge fun? We were dancin’, n’ singin’, n drinkin’, n talkin’. You’re-a good danzer, Hope!”

Damaris stumbled over her footing, one arm laced around her friend’s neck and the other flailing wildly about as she tried to gain balance on the wall. A shrill and boisterous laugh leapt from her stomach as if trying to escape the pooled poison in her stomach. Damaris - had wayyy too much to drink. The voice in the back of her mind that normally would have told her that she was being a burden had been silence by one too many Peach Bellinis. 

“Is it hot!?” The woman practically yelled down the hall, a whiney tone coloring her voice. “I’m hot!” 

Her arm that was previously around Hope’s shoulders slid down and she began to take off her jacket, heels taken off somewhere in their shuffle down the hall. 

The offer from Damaris to finally have their girl’s night had come at the perfect time, and Elle jumped at the chance to spend another night out of the house. She needed a distraction, a night off from her mess of a life. Damaris always seemed to be a source of light, even when she was struggling through her own things. It was something that Elle admired about her, and something she wanted more of in her life. And while the two women weren’t particularly close, Elle definitely felt like Damaris could quickly become someone she could confide in.

Dressed down from her usual day to day attire in an oversized cardigan, baggy t-shirt, and leggings, Elle was ready for a night of just relaxing and watching shows while just enjoying Damaris’ company.

After packing a few things to take over with her, Elle drove over to Damaris’ apartment, stopping on her way to pick up an extra bottle of wine or two and a few more snacks just to be safe. When she arrived, doing her best to juggle the bags she was holding, she knocked on the door. The moment the door opened and she was greeted by a smiling Damaris, Elle couldn’t help but forget about the last 24 hours. She smiled back and stepped inside. “Hi! Oh, a wine would be amazing. I stopped and got a few extra things just in case.” She said, gently shaking the bags she was holding.

As her eyes wandered the apartment, she spotted everything that Damaris had set out for them. “Wow, you really went all out!”

.

Damaris, not knowing just the extent of how extra her actions truly were, gave a small giggle and a sheepish shrug. Her cheeks glowed a small shade of pink and she gave a bashful wave. Perhaps it was the way her mother had hosted, or the way their family hosted mass every Sunday for the community. Maybe it was the way that she was made to feel literally useless unless she was catering to other people. 

“Oh this is... It’s nothing.” The woman sat down on the futon, patting the spot next to her for Elle to sit. “I just wanted us to have a nice relaxing evening where we won’t have to get up or do anything, and we can just be lazy and pamper ourselves!” 

As Damaris settled in, she pulled one of the blankets from the back of the futon and placed it over her lap to get cozy. 

“Okay, so! Tell me how things are going, how the new place is, how everything is with your hubby. Is it everything you ever imagined?” 

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

“You didn’t do anything.”

It was all Marianne could offer in the moment, the girl’s words having hit her like a ton of bricks. It was legitimately crushing, to realize that the way she’d naturally distanced herself from everyone in Gravewood had impacted someone other than herself. Maybe she’d been naïve to think that everyone would simply recover and maybe even be better for it. She knew a thing or two about abandonment. She had never wanted anyone to feel the way she felt.

Lonely.

That particular word was going to echo around Mari’s brain for a hot minute.

“I’m one hundred percent serious about that. I know some people say that when they don’t mean it just to be nice, but I’m not just saying it,” she continued, avoiding eye contact.

She wanted to explain, but she also didn’t want to make excuses. A delicate balance.

“Look, I’m sorry. This is on me. I do like you, Damaris. And I want to be your friend. I just-I guess… I didn’t realize when I left that anyone would actually miss me? And coming back, things have been awkward with almost everyone. I’m not very good at making friends. At being social. But the friendship we had back in high school? That was real. And I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort when I went to college.”

.

Damaris’ brows furrowed as she tried to understand fully what was happening. The brunette stammered for a minute, unsure what to say in response. This certainly wasn’t the expectation of the conversation. Damaris stood her ground, shivering slightly in the cold with arms wrapped around her shoulders,

At least what Mari had said was better than the image that had stayed stuck in her head. It wasn’t a far stretch to say Damaris had offended someone. She knew that was to be expected holding beliefs as strong as hers. In her head, Damaris had violently offended Marianne beyond repair. Or that maybe Mari wanted to be friends and would have asked at Thanksgiving but chose not to because who would want to be friends with a pregnant girl in her early 20′s? She tried her best to find the end of her sentence as it began.

“I didn’t... Yeah, so obviously we’re... Okay. Yeah, I think I...” The woman stuck her tongue out, eyes rolling into the back of her head in frustration. If the cold wasn’t sobering her slightly, the subject matter definitely was. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t zacktly hava large groub of friends.” Damaris pushed through each smudge of a word. “You left and I was like “What am I gonna do,” you know? “I have one person left... And I don’even talk to them.” And then you came back n’ I forgot to send my condolenzes about your dad and then coffee happened n’ I... Is okay. ” 

-

Noah sent a smile over to the waitress as he sat there wishing he was anywhere else. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around Damaris it was more so the reluctance to do what he knew he had to. Did it make him a coward? Most definitely but yet he didn’t care. He watched as the waitress left and dread followed knowing that he’d have to say something. 

Maybe he didn’t need to start confessing just this moment though? 

“So…” He started feeling awkward, “How have you been?” Noah himself knew how half assed that was at a conversation starter but at this point he didn’t know what else to say. The situation between them was a little weird and honestly all of it was his fault; he should’ve just said no but how could he look the pastor in the eyes and say no? 

.

Damaris sat still with a plain look on her face, wondering if Noah was actually being serious or not. If there was one thing for certain, it was that Damaris was there for answers. She needed to know why everything had gone so far south and so quickly. It was true that she was keen to date him in order to keep her parents happy but the fallout of everything else made things a bit more complicated. The devout was grateful the exchange between them didn’t happen after her Thanksgiving pregnancy reveal. 

“I’m fine.” Demi responded sharply, plain look still clear on her face. There wasn’t an easy way to say things so she decided that perhaps blurting it out was the best way. 

“So was it all a joke or something? You didn’t actually want to date me? And why get my dad involved? What’s going on?”

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Mari had sort of expected Damaris to just offer her a nod of recognition as she kept on moving. The two of them hadn’t had much luck with reconnecting since Mari had reappeared back in town, and the odds that such a thing would occur when they’d both momentarily slipped outside felt slim to none.

But Damaris took her greeting and ran with it, attempting to bridge the gap between the two of them with a question that was mildly alarming.

Wasn’t Damaris… pregnant?

Marianne had never been pregnant, nor even thought for a second that she was, but she was pretty sure that one was actually not supposed to be drinking. She was therefore equal parts nervous about what Damaris wanted to talk about and why she was so drunk.

The alarm bells were still ringing in her mind as she nodded, the action soon paired with a verbal answer to Damaris’ question. “Sometimes you don’t realize how drunk you are until you take a minute to breathe. Or sit down. Usually sitting,” she pointed out. “But yeah, we can talk. Are you… okay?”

.

Damaris’ eyes moved in the silence, back up to the fireworks that held her captive. She knew what was on her mind but it was almost like something was preventing her from being present. Oh, yeah. Alcohol. It didn’t matter if her eyes were glued to the fireworks in the night sky because everything that was spilling out of her was word vomit. Damaris had passively thought these things for a while but hadn’t even seen Mari around for a minute. Even when she did, it seemed short - in passing. 

Eyes still fixed on the fireworks, Damaris knew her mouth was going to run faster than she ever did in high school gym class. 

“Mari, I know we sort of smooved everythin’ over but I still feel like I did something wrong. I dunno if it was the religious stuff, or if i annoyed you away, or if you jus don’ like me as a person. Maybe it’s none of my biz-nuss and you don’ owe me a reason. I’ve been lonely.” Damaris nodded, eyes finally breaking from the fireworks to look at Marianne. It was then that the situation became real to her. She was actually talking to a person. 

“I jus’ wanted to apogolize for the way I acted if I did somethin’ wrong.”