Chapter 14: Stitch and Bitch
The whir of sewing machines formed a steady drone in the community center's craft room, punctuated by the snip-snip of scissors and the low murmur of conversation. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above a large table buried under bolts of vibrant fabric, tangled skeins of yarn, and half-finished projects. Pearl kept her eyes fixed on the delicate floral pattern emerging beneath her embroidery needle, the rhythmic stab and pull a fragile anchor.
"...and honestly, Bev, the proportions," Ruby's voice cut through the background hum, pitched just a little too high, a little too animated. She smoothed the clingy fabric of her cobalt blue bodycon dress over her hips, a stark contrast to Pearl's flowing, layered boho skirt. "I mean, you wouldn't expect it, would you? He looks so... lanky in those baggy tees." A collective intake of breath, swiftly followed by stifled giggles and the frantic flutter of several paper fans suddenly produced from project bags. Mrs. Henderson choked slightly on her Earl Grey.
Pearl forced her hand not to tremble. She took a deliberate sip from her chipped floral teacup, the lukewarm liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat rising in her own cheeks. She hid behind the rim, her gaze flicking to Ruby. Her daughter's face was flushed a deep, telltale pink, starting at her neck and blooming upwards. That flush, more than the brazen words about Kai, revealed everything. Pearl felt a treacherous flicker of something – pride? Possessiveness? Horror? – that warred with the heavy knot of dread that hadn't unclenched since... since before.
"Oh, come on, Ruby darling, spill!" Bev leaned forward, her ample bosom resting on the edge of the cluttered table. Her eyes sparkled with avid curiosity. "Proportions where, exactly? Are we talking Michelangelo's David proportions? Or something more... practical?" Another wave of titters swept the circle.
Ruby waved a dismissive hand, the motion too sharp. "Just... impressive, Bev. Statuesque, maybe. Anyway!" She snatched up a ball of sunflower yellow yarn, focusing intently on untangling it. "Point is, it's nice to see him finally stepping up, taking initiative. Getting noticed." She avoided looking at Pearl, but the air between them crackled with unspoken tension – the shared, awful knowledge of how Ruby might have gained such intimate insight into Kai's dimensions.
"Notice is one thing," chuckled Agnes, threading a needle with meticulous care. "Landing the kind of girl who appreciates that sort of... architecture... is another. Does the poor boy even have a girlfriend? Seems a shame for such assets to go unappreciated." She winked broadly.
The question hung in the air, thick as the scent of tea and fabric sizing. Ruby’s hands stilled on the yarn. Her knuckles whitened. Pearl watched the flush deepen on her daughter's skin, creeping towards her hairline. She saw the slight tightening around Ruby’s mouth, the defensive set of her shoulders beneath the tight blue fabric.
"He doesn't need one," Ruby said, her voice suddenly flat, stripped of its earlier forced brightness. The words landed with a thud. "He's focused. On his studies. On helping... family." She shot a glance at Pearl, quick and fierce. "Some girls... they just cause trouble. Take things that aren’t theirs. Distract you."
The room quieted perceptibly. Bev’s eyebrows shot up. Agnes paused mid-stitch. They all knew Ruby’s usual stance on Kai was affectionate exasperation, not this protective sharpness. Pearl’s teacup clattered slightly against its saucer. Sera. Ruby was thinking of Sera stealing the laptop, the hard drive, years of Pearl’s digital art. But the ferocity... it felt personal. Too personal.
"Trouble, you say?" Bev probed gently, sensing the shift. "Someone specific in mind, Ruby? Someone who distracted our Kai?"
Ruby’s gaze snapped back to Bev. "Just saying. He’s better off without complications. Especially the kind who steal your grandma’s life’s work and vanish." The bitterness was palpable. It wasn’t just about the theft anymore. Pearl felt a chill, despite the warm room. Was Ruby projecting? Transferring her own complex, forbidden entanglement with Kai onto the convenient villainy of Sera?
The sewing circle murmured sympathetically about Sera, the theft, the violation. Pearl felt their eyes drift to her, expecting shared outrage. She managed a tight nod, her fingers gripping the needle so hard the eye dug into her thumb. The colorful embroidery hoop blurred. He doesn’t need one. Ruby’s words echoed. But Kai had needed something. Desperately. And Pearl… Pearl had taken it. Given it? The memory of his choked gasp, the impossible heat, the crushing weight of after surged, overwhelming the scent of tea and thread. Her skin prickled with remembered shame and a terrifying echo of that unwanted, traitorous thrill.
"Family support is crucial," Agnes offered sagely, breaking the awkward pause. "Especially after a blow like that. You two must be leaning on each other so much." Her gaze encompassed both Pearl and Ruby.
Pearl’s laugh came out brittle, a sharp sound that startled even herself. "Oh, we share everything, Agnes," she said, her voice unnaturally bright. "Absolutely everything." The words tasted like ash. Not that kind of sharing. Never that kind. She saw Ruby flinch minutely, her eyes darting away, fixing on a poster about cross-stitch tension. The flush hadn't faded; it looked feverish now.
"Sharing's important," Bev agreed, oblivious to the undercurrents. "Keeps things healthy. Open." She beamed.
Healthy? Pearl’s stomach roiled. The floral pattern on her embroidery swam, the colors bleeding into a nauseating swirl. The drone of the sewing machines amplified, vibrating in her skull. The scent of the fabric, the tea, Ruby's floral perfume – it all coalesced into a suffocating fog. She saw Kai’s frozen face again, terror in his eyes as she’d held him close, grinding against him. She saw Ruby’s flushed cheeks, heard her boast about his 'proportions'. He doesn’t need one. But she had needed. And taken. And now it lived inside them all, a festering secret poisoning the air between mother and daughter, grandmother and grandson.
The needle slipped from Pearl’s suddenly numb fingers, clattering onto the wooden tabletop. "Excuse me," she whispered, pushing her chair back with a scrape that silenced the room. "Too much... tea." She didn't look at Ruby. Couldn't. The vibrant posters, the colorful fabrics, the curious faces of the women – they blurred into a sickening kaleidoscope.
She stumbled towards the restroom signposted down the hall, the cheerful chatter fading behind her. The dread solidified into a physical lump in her throat. Ruby knew. Somehow, some part of Ruby knew. The way she’d looked at her, the ferocious protectiveness mixed with that deep, revealing flush... It wasn't just about Sera. It was about Pearl. About Kai. About the terrible, unfiltered reality Pearl had forced into existence. Panic clawed at her chest, tight and cold. How much had Ruby seen? Guessed? Felt? The confrontation she’d managed to delay, locked away with the shame in her bedroom, was now inevitable. It was waiting for her outside this bathroom door, wearing a tight blue dress and a mother’s wounded intuition. Pearl fumbled for the restroom door handle, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She needed to lock it. To hide. To breathe. But the walls were closing in, papered with imagined accusations in Ruby’s voice, and the relentless, terrifying question: What have we done?
The cold porcelain of the sink bit into Pearl’s palms as she leaned over, gasping for air. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering slightly, casting harsh, unflattering shadows on the avocado-green tiles. What have we done? The question wasn’t just hers anymore; it vibrated in the stale, antiseptic air, thick with the implication hanging between her and Ruby.
"You okay in there, Mom?" Ruby’s voice, sharp and clear, pierced through the flimsy bathroom stall door. It wasn’t concern edging her tone; it was challenge. Pearl flinched, pressing her forehead against the cool metal of the stall partition. "Just... a moment," she managed, her voice hoarse, barely recognizable. The cheerful chatter from the craft room felt miles away, muffled by the pounding in her ears.
The stall door rattled under a light knock. "Open up." It wasn't a request. Pearl fumbled with the latch, her fingers clumsy with dread. The lock clicked open. Ruby stood framed in the doorway, her cobalt dress vibrant against the drab bathroom walls. Her eyes, usually avoiding direct confrontation, pinned Pearl with unnerving focus. That tell-tale flush was still high on her cheekbones, but her expression was unnervingly calm, almost assessing. She stepped inside, closing the stall door firmly behind her. The cramped space shrank instantly.
The mingled scents of Ruby’s expensive perfume and the harsh bathroom cleaner clashed in Pearl’s nostrils. Ruby surveyed her mother – the pallor replacing her usual vibrancy, the tremor in her hands. A humorless, knowing smile touched Ruby’s lips. "Had a bit of a turn, did you? Hearing all that talk about Kai?" She leaned against the stall wall, crossing her arms. The pose was casual, but her gaze was relentless. "About his… impressive qualities?"
Pearl tried to look away, but Ruby’s stare held her captive. "Ruby, I don’t—"
"You fixed me," Ruby cut her off, her voice dropping low, echoing slightly in the tiled space. The words landed like stones. "That night. After… everything." She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to. The image of Kai's terrified face, the shocking intimacy Pearl had forced, surged back with sickening clarity. "That weird… thing you did? It fixed me."
Guilt, sharp and corrosive, lanced through Pearl. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the condemnation. But Ruby’s next words, uttered with a chilling matter-of-factness, weren't an accusation. "And it fixed Kai too." A pause, heavy as lead. Pearl opened her eyes, met Ruby’s unnervingly steady gaze. "He's different now. Confident. Too confident." Ruby’s lip curled slightly. "He's hammering every woman who moves. Every. Single. One. Barely sleeps. Barely studies. Just… driven."
The implication detonated in Pearl’s chest. That raw, desperate energy she’d unleashed, that terrifying power she’d tapped into and channeled into her grandson… it hadn’t just vanished. It had mutated. Amplified. Unleashed him. Pleasure, dark and unwanted, warred violently with the guilt within her. A twisted pride flickered – she’d done that? Given him that power? The sheer, terrifying wrongness of it slammed back down. Surely this wasn’t the way to fix things. This was breaking everything.
Pearl searched Ruby’s face for disgust, for horror, for anything resembling the turmoil tearing her apart. But Ruby’s skin had a noticeable, healthy glow, her eyes were clear, her posture radiating a newfound, unsettling vitality. This radiant health, this visible proof of the ‘fix’, stood in stark, grotesque counterpoint to the guilt consuming Pearl. Ruby looked… better than she had in years. Revitalized by the same monstrous act. "He needs fixing again, Mom," Ruby stated calmly, her voice devoid of its usual flighty hesitation. "He’s burning out. Or burning someone else." She pushed off the stall wall, the movement fluid, predatory. "And you’re the only one who knows how."
The fluorescent bulb flickered, casting a sickly strobe on the avocado tiles. Ruby’s words – He needs fixing again – hung in the thick, antiseptic air, a grotesque echo of Pearl’s own desperate justification that awful night. Pearl’s stomach clenched, bile stinging her throat. Fixing? What had she unleashed? Not healing, but some monstrous amplification, turning Kai into… into what Ruby described. A wave of revulsion warred with a terrifying, dark pride that she recoiled from. Her mouth opened, a weak protest forming on her lips – “Ruby, that’s not…” – but the words died.
Pearl barely had time to process Ruby's statement, let alone protest them as a possessive kiss from Ruby silenced any. It wasn’t tender. It was sudden, hard, claiming. Ruby’s hand clamped the back of Pearl’s neck, fingers tangling in the dyed black strands near her scalp, holding her firmly against the cool metal partition. The taste of Ruby’s expensive lip gloss, cloyingly sweet, clashed violently with the lingering bitterness in Pearl’s mouth. Shock froze Pearl rigid. This wasn't her flighty, distant daughter; this was someone else entirely, radiating a fierce, almost feral energy Pearl had unwittingly gifted her. The kiss was an assertion, a demand sealed in suffocating intimacy.
The pressure released as abruptly as it began. Ruby pulled back just enough to stare into Pearl’s stunned eyes, her own pupils wide, dark pools reflecting the flickering light. A bead of saliva, visible and obscene, clung to the corner of Ruby’s swollen lower lip. Her breath hit Pearl’s face, warm and rapid. No apology. No explanation. Just that unnerving stillness, the charged silence roaring louder than any words. Pearl’s own lips felt bruised, violated by the force and the impossible wrongness of it. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe past the thick perfume and the memory of Kai’s terrified gasp echoing this new violation.
Ruby’s gaze flickered down Pearl’s body, pausing almost imperceptibly on her mouth, then back to her eyes. That predatory calm remained, but Pearl saw a flicker of something else now – not just demand, but a raw, desperate hunger that mirrored the terrifying compulsions she’d apparently ignited in Kai. It wasn't just Kai Ruby wanted fixed. It was her own insatiable need, awakened by the darkness Pearl had tapped into, demanding to be fed. Ruby wanted in. Pearl’s own breath caught in a ragged gasp. The stall walls felt like they were collapsing.
The avocado tiles spun. Pearl pressed her palms flat against the cold metal stall partition, her breath rasping in the cramped, buzzing silence. Ruby stood unnervingly close, that predatory stillness radiating from her newly vibrant skin, the cloying sweetness of her lip gloss still sharp in Pearl’s mouth. “Fix him,” Ruby breathed again, the demand a low thrum vibrating through Pearl’s bones, echoing the fluorescent light’s erratic flicker. He needs it. The words weren’t just about Kai anymore; they were about Ruby’s own terrifying, awakened hunger. Pearl flinched as Ruby’s fingertip, impossibly warm, brushed the edge of her own bruised lip where the kiss had landed. The touch wasn’t affectionate; it was a claim, a reminder of power transferred. Of darkness shared.
“We can’t stay in here,” Ruby stated, her voice regaining its familiar pitch but laced with a new, steely core. She unlocked the stall door, the click echoing sharply. The abrupt return to the mundane hallway light was blinding. Pearl stumbled slightly, the scent of bleach and Ruby’s perfume warring in her nostrils. Her reflection in the smudged mirror above the sinks was a ghost – pale, dyed-black hair slightly askew, eyes wide with unprocessed horror. Ruby, beside her, looked flushed, alive, unfairly luminous. She smoothed her bodycon dress, a tiny, satisfied curve touching her lips as she met Pearl’s shattered gaze in the glass. “Ready?”
The walk back to the craft room felt endless. Pearl’s boho skirts felt heavy, dragging like chains. Every step echoed the suffocating weight of Ruby’s demand and the memory of that violating kiss. Kai’s terrified face from the bedroom merged with Ruby’s unnerving focus. Fix him. And then what? Feed this monstrous thing she’d unleashed? Her hands trembled. She clenched them into fists, feeling the bite of her short nails against her palms.
The cheerful chaos of the craft room washed over them, a jarring symphony of whirring machines, snipping scissors, and overlapping chatter. The scent of warm fabric, spilled tea, and lavender sachets replaced the bathroom’s harshness. Heads turned as they re-entered. Bev’s eyes immediately locked onto them, sharp and curious. Agnes paused her stitching, needle held aloft. The low hum of conversation dipped noticeably.
“Goodness!” Bev chirped, fanning herself theatrically. “Where on earth did you two disappear to? We were about to send out a search party for our star embroiderers!”
Pearl opened her mouth, a flimsy excuse about dizziness dying on her tongue, her throat too tight.
Ruby beat her to it. She flashed a dazzling, effortless smile at the circle, linking her arm casually through Pearl’s stiff one. Pearl felt the heat radiating through Ruby’s skin, the unnatural vitality humming beneath the surface. “Oh, don’t fuss, Bev!” Ruby trilled, her voice light, airy, perfectly calibrated. She gave Pearl’s arm a conspiratorial squeeze that felt more like a shackle. Her eyes swept the room, holding their gaze. “Mom and I just needed a moment. You know. To catch up.” A deliberate pause, loaded. Then the bomb, dropped with casual, breathtaking audacity: “We were making out in the stall.”
Silence. Absolute, deafening silence. The only sounds were the distant hum of the building’s HVAC and the frantic whirring of one neglected sewing machine. Bev’s fan froze mid-flutter. Agnes’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. Pearl felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her icy cold despite the room’s warmth. She couldn’t look at anyone, staring fixedly at the tangled yellow yarn Ruby had abandoned.
Then the room erupted. Not in horror, but in raucous, disbelieving laughter. Bev shrieked, slapping the table. Agnes wheezed, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Ruby Givens-Baker!” Bev managed between gasps. “You are too much! Making out? With your mother?”
Ruby just shrugged, the picture of cool amusement, her arm still locked through Pearl’s. “What? We’re very close.” She winked, the gesture pure provocation. “Kai’s not the only one with impressive qualities in this family.”
The laughter swelled again, shaking the bolts of fabric on the table. But Pearl, frozen beside her daughter, saw it. Beneath the hilarity. Past Bev’s shaking shoulders and Agnes’s tear-streaked cheeks. Mrs. Henderson wasn’t laughing. She watched Ruby, then Pearl, her gaze lingering, thoughtful. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her paper fan and began to wave it before her flushed face. Her eyes held a spark that wasn’t amusement. Across the table, another woman, younger, with fiery red hair Pearl barely knew, met Mrs. Henderson’s look. Her own fan fluttered open. Her lips parted slightly, not in laughter, but in something else. Hunger? Curiosity? A dark, vicarious thrill. They watched Pearl and Ruby, not as a joke, but as a spectacle. A possibility. The laughter echoed, but Pearl felt the shift, the undercurrent. A sight they’d be willing to see. And join in on.