RE: Trailer Trash 6 pt 12 (Patreon)

After exchanging some parting pleasantries with the recovering cop, Mrs. Williams took Tabitha on a bit of a stroll— or at least, a roll—aimlessly meandering through the building. Anything to get the poor thing out and about and away from the cloying cabin fever of her room for a bit! The redheaded teen seemed to enjoy seeing even the lackluster sights around Springton General Hospital, but Mrs. Williams wasn’t content to allow them to lapse into contemplative silence—she still had a mission to perform.

“Since you’ve read Anita Blake I should probably assume… but oh, I’ve just got to ask anyways,” Karen Williams let out an easygoing laugh. “You’re thirteen years old—has your mother had… the talk with you? About the little birds and the little bees?”

Steering the conversation in that direction felt dishonest, because Karen knew Mrs. Moore had not sat down for that particular discussion with Tabitha. The flustered Mrs. Moore had in fact asked Karen to make this discreet enquiry on her behalf! Extraordinary change was on the horizon for the Moore family, and there was apparently some awkward distance between parents and daughter that needed to be very carefully addressed before the big topic would be broached.

“She has not,” Tabitha replied in good humor, tilting her head back to give the woman behind her an amused grin. “I believe I have a firm idea of the um, the mechanics of it, but I don’t have any personal understanding of that, and don’t intend to for some time.”

“Okay, phew,” Mrs. Williams pantomimed wiping sweat off her brow in relief. “I’m so sorry, dear—it really is just such a dreadful thing to come out and ask a young woman!”

“It is,” Tabitha agreed with a chuckle. “And, it is dreadful. I’ve really been... struggling to wrap my mind around a lot of those ideas, lately.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Williams prompted, lighting up with interest.

“I think… I’d given up on all of that,” Tabitha mused. “For a long time. I honestly didn’t see personal intimacy in my future at all. Ever. Then, I worked out so hard and fixed my diet and transformed for high school, and… well, I don’t know what I expected. My body’s attractive now, apparently, but I feel like I already missed out on getting the user manual for how to deal with that, or… I don’t know. Maybe I changed too fast, and I just can’t keep up?”

“There’s this…” Tabitha trailed off as she struggled to find the words to express herself. “Gap, I guess, in my formative… um. It’s like, expressing interest in boys, and what to do with their interest in me—it’s, it’s like I don’t even know what to do with it.”

“In my first month at school, I’d get compliments from guys, and—” Tabitha cupped her hands out in front of her as if she’d been handed something unexpected, “—I don’t know what to do with compliments.”

The teen shifted in the wheelchair uncomfortably.

“It feels like... an inbox piling up in a department where no one’s been manning the desk,” Tabitha said. “I know it’s not good to just leave it unattended until it becomes a problem, but... I’m leery of picking up the slack over there. Because I’m not trained for that position, and good lord what if I start getting expected to actually do that job in addition to everything else I’m trying to figure out, here? That... probably doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“No, no,” Mrs. Williams quickly patted the girl’s shoulder. “Honestly Miss Tabitha, you make a lot more sense than you should! At thirteen years old, how are you relating your feelings to the workplace, of all things? What are they putting on television for you kids these days?!”

“Yeah,” Tabitha blew out a weary sigh that seemed uncharacteristic of a girl her age. “Television…”

“So, you have trouble accepting compliments,” Mrs. Moore said. “That’s not so unusual. Do you feel like you don’t deserve the compliments they give you, or are you just uncomfortable with boys being interested, right now?”

“I—I don’t know,” Tabitha admitted. “Both, maybe. I may never manage to get over… this bizarre age dynamic that doesn’t make any sense and probably never will. Also, psychologically speaking, I think I have this… severe case of imposter syndrome in regards to who I am and who I present myself to be. It may even be totally warranted, I… I don’t know anymore. I don’t belong with my peers, in a lot of ways, and improving my body image may have exacerbated the problem rather than helped it, I think.”

“Aw, Tabitha…” Mrs. Williams fretted, momentarily at a loss.

Conventional platitudes and reassurances weren’t going to cut it here, and Mrs. Williams felt herself taken aback all over again. This girl’s mind always surprised her, but now Mrs. Williams could see that Tabitha’s intellectual development had so far outstripped her emotional growth that the poor thing was completely floundering on the delicate matters of adolescence.

“Sorry, I—sorry,” Tabitha apologized. “Weird thing to bring up, I’ve just been—”

“You stop that,” Mrs. Williams chided, patting the girl’s shoulder again. “You’re fine, don’t you ever apologize for needing to talk.”

“I… I think I really have needed to talk,” Tabitha revealed in a quiet voice. “I really didn’t mean to bring up the whole trailer trash subject or the drama with Aunt Lisa before and make things weird there, either. I just… I feel like almost dying changed things for me. Just the other day I kind of poured my soul out to Elena, and now I’m worried I might have freaked her out a little. Or more than a little. I’ve spent too much time cooped up in here with my thoughts. Unable to do anything about anything, and now there’s just, there’s just so many things to get off my chest. About everything.”

Mrs. Williams paused, guiding the wheelchair to a stop and stepping around in front of it to face Tabitha. Without hesitation, she kneeled down beside the surprised girl so that she could envelop her in a crushing hug.

“Get it all off your chest then, honey,” Mrs. Williams said softly. “Whenever you need to— about anything. I’m sure your friend Elena understands, and I’ll be here anytime you ever need to vent. I can understand how it could be tough to talk about some of these things with your parents! Well, I can tell you; your family’s not trailer trash, you’re not trailer trash, and I don’t think you’re any kind of imposter, either!”

“Thank you,” Tabitha squeaked out. “Mrs. Williams, I—”

“You call me Mom or Momma Williams like Hannah does from now on, okay?” Mrs. Williams huffed. “You’re really in luck, because talking about things just so happens to be my favorite thing in the world! About getting that old clunker in your yard fixed up, about introducing you to the church group, about boys. I have stories that even make my husband blush!”

“We can talk about your family troubles, or about that story you’re writing, about faith, I’ll talk your ear off on any subject, and I might even listen to you, too! I mean, my word—I can’t wait to skedaddle over real quick to pick up some of those novels for you to read! You don’t know how thrilled I’ll be to have someone new to talk about them with! All Sandy ever reads are those dull old The Cat Who... books!”

You’re an amazing young woman, Miss Tabitha, Mrs. Williams sighed to herself as she gave Tabitha one last big squeeze. I don’t know why your mother’s fussing so much about how you’ll react to the news—this really might be just what you needed. You’re going to make a GREAT big sister when that little one arrives!

( Previous, 6 pt 11 | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, To be Continued... )

/// Surprised myself by cutting this one off fairly short. There's a couple tiny more sections to rotate through before we're done with the slack and back to rising action, but I think those ones weren't appropriate to try to cram into the tail end of Chapter 29 here.

It's almost a given that with the parents suffering together through emotionally turbulent circumstances (and Mrs. Moore losing a lot of weight) that this sort of thing might happen. The timing is suspect enough that it's natural Mrs. Moore will worry that Tabitha would feel like they'd immediately been trying to replace her, and sex is already a very touchy subject for Mrs. Moore.