Betty
To say that time got away from her was an understatement. The moons coming and going and the panic that ensued because of it, the sudden marriage proposal and subsequent marriage, and the moving house... It had all been a lot. 

April was not usually this scatterbrained, but while her new husband was out working, she had to tend to making sure her things and the boys' were all settled up and crammed into Eli's admittedly slightly-cramped home. She didn't mind it, though. She liked that it all felt so homey already, as she put the books on the mostly-empty bookshelf. 

The boys were off running around in the backyard as she was washing up the sheets and hanging them to dry on the line. She hadn't realized she hadn't been by for her rations; it was just another chore that had fallen to the wayside as she chased her sons around the yard to wipe the dirt off their faces.
Junior
That untouched parcel of dry goods had been staring Carina down for three days. She knew Miss Baker had been injured, but that was months ago. Maybe something else was preventing her from coming to town? Barring death, whatever kept April busy wouldn't stop her and her boys from going hungry. The thought of delivery occurred to her, and instead of waving it away, she entertained it. The afternoon was slow, and Carina hadn't seen the town outside of Main Street for days. She was getting a cramp in her wrist from polishing the silver spoons on display, and besides, she'd better enjoy the weather before it got too cold, and these shoes she was wearing from the back of her closet still needed breaking in– a walk could be good for that!, and– 

How many excuses needed to be summoned before she felt comfortable in claiming part of her motivation as simply *Being kind*? She inched closer to the package marked `BAKER-ABRAMS`. It wasn't too heavy.

"Oh, fine." She rolled her eyes at the groceries and took them in her arms. 

The walk to the Abrams house was further than she'd realized, having only a vague recollection of its general location from chats with Eli as he stocked the ice box at the General Store with milk. She knew she'd reached the right address when she heard April's boys playing out back, the crisp air adding color to their cheeks. Soon after, she saw April out at the clothesline. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Baker," She greeted, unthinkingly calling the woman the name she was used to, "I brought your groceries. I'm glad to see you're well." Carina held out the package, though it was clear April's hands were already full from the wash. She wanted to get back to the store quickly now that she'd seen April alive and unharmed. She'd been foolish to venture so far just to ease a stupid intrusive thought (or maybe she'd been secretly hoping to stumble on some kind of tragedy?). The woman probably would have been by to pick up her rations in a few hours, anyway. 
_ _
Betty
She hadn't even heard the woman approaching the house, until the voice was on the other side of the sheet she was hanging. She was glad it was there so Carina couldn't see the way she jumped, having held in a shriek of surprise at the sudden visitor. 

"Oh! Carina!" She sucked in a breath, side-stepping her clothing as her eyes fell on the package in hand. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment immediately. "Oh, I'm so sorry," She said, quick as a whip to jump into apologies. "Honestly, my days are getting away from me! I don't even know— frankly, I completely forgot all about picking up the groceries." She admitted, shoulders slumping a bit. 

With a shameful look, she folded her hands. "And I feel awful that you've had to walk all this way, too. It's quite a hike to the house..." She looked down the path of which Carina had walked. "Let me get you something to drink or— even something to eat, or even take back with you!" She insisted, already turning to pick up the now-empty basket. 

The shrill sounds of squealing boys came around the house, as Richie and Mickey came smacking straight into Carina's legs, only serving to make April flush even redder. "Oops," Richie said, tumbling into the grass with his brother and staring up at the woman with wide, blue eyes and a missing front tooth. "Sorry, lady."
Junior
It was a bit of a comfort to hear April had forgotten, and that Carina hadn't trudged out here in vain. Out here in the sunlight, she could see every twitch and curve of April's expression. When she considered folks who came into the store, the light painted them in muddy midtones, allowing them to pass as vague creatures on parade for her enjoyment. Here, set against the openness of the sky and land, with light washing every contour, the shopkeeper felt like she was having an out of body experience, standing over the conversation to watch herself having a too-vivid interaction with a living breathing human. 

In the shop, it was easy to keep her focus inward, well aware of her next actions and reactions. Out here, she couldn't ignore that April was *Real* And *Close* And having thoughts of her own. Carina was overwhelmed. Maybe she did need something to ease her empty stomach, at least so she could make the trip back to town. 

"It's no trouble, Miss Baker. A drink would be lovely." Carina answered with robotic politeness, her thoughts swimming in rapid circles behind her eyes. To compound her sensory overload, the children collided with her as she turned to follow April indoors. Richie's apology was met with a reflexive grimace as she fixated on the pink, gummy gap in his smile. She straightened her skirts and said nothing to the boys, turning her head away quickly back to April. 

"When will it– he– grow that tooth back?" Carina asked, hopeful that some accident hadn't left the child disfigured and toothless forever. As little as she knew about kids, she was well aware of the concept of baby teeth, and keenly remembered losing her own. This was just her unfortunate way of making what she deemed to be well-mannered conversation. 
_ _
Hal
"Richie, that isn't a good apology," She said, feeling herself grow even more flustered by her son's behavior. "I promise, they're well behaved, they just have so much energy." She said weakly. 

Carina's question caught her off guard. She supposed *It* Must've been a slip of the tongue, but April couldn't help the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. "He just lost that tooth... Oh, a few days ago, wasn't it sweetheart?" 

April was quite the doting mother, and that came to just about everything she did and everyone she interacted with. She stepped to her older son and brushed her fingers through his hair, mussy up his soft brunette hair. She licked her thumb and crouched down a moment to wipe dirt off his face, which caused the young boy to squirm and whine in defiance. 

"You can go once you apologize," She said to him, and the boy shuffled as his mother stood up straight. "...'m sorry, Miss C'rina," He said, and about as quickly as he'd said it, he was grabbing his little brother's hand and off they went. "Be careful!" April called after them. "And don't go by the river!" 

She shook her head fondly and gestured for Carina to follow her into the house. "They're a handful, that's for sure!" She laughed and opened the screen door, walking in and beelining for the kitchen. "What can I get you? Water? Tea? We also have plenty of milk, if you can imagine." She laughed; a soft, bubbling thing.
Junior
To evidence how little Carina thought about motherhood: there was a distinct possibility that she had never once pictured herself as a mother until this moment. She supposed she'd connected the dots between being a woman and her biological capacity for childbirth, but seeing Richie there at her ankles gave her a vivid picture of what reproducing might actually look like, and there wasn't one aspect of it that she found agreeable. 

Her first instinct was to pity April. Here, a strong young woman with her freedom removed, held captive by two little beings who did nothing but take, take, *Take.* Once she saw how April's gaze softened on her boys, and the tone of voice she took with them, Carina reconsidered that pity might not be warranted. April seemed to enjoy being a mother, as outlandish as the idea felt. She was a *Good* Mother, naturally nurturing, Carina thought as she watched her clean her child's face. 

Carina tilted her head as Richie made another attempt at apologizing, doing her best to see the appeal of childrearing. He *Was* Kind of cute, with those watery eyes and feathery hair. She almost smiled at the way he said her name. 
"Well that's alright, Richie. Thank you." She told him, her words barely out before he'd zipped away. 

She followed April into the house, her eyes roaming the walls and studying the furniture. How many people lived here? It seemed tight for the family of four, though maybe it was nice to keep each other within reach like that. 
"Mmm," Carina replied, her interest in the children and budding tenderness toward the concept of motherhood already waning, "I'll take tea." She said, adding a quick "Please." 
_ _

This delivery was turning out to be a true lesson in domesticity, Carina mused, as she watched April shift from the role of parent to hostess. She remembered her own mother receiving guests, of course only *After* The visitors had already been welcomed by the servants, shown to the parlor, and the tea service had been wheeled in. Only then would Mrs. Templeton announce herself, pouring the tea and passing out biscuits or cookies like she'd baked them herself. Things were different here. The lady of the house wore many more hats in places like Briar Ridge. It'd been a culture shock to Carina at first, but she'd learned a good bit of small town etiquette from Mrs. Bigby over the years. 

Finding a clear spot on the counter to set down April's grocery order, Carina then helped herself to a seat at the kitchen table, continuing to survey the house. Again, as outside, the new setting was a bit dizzying for someone who spent most of their time in the same building, day in and day out, only changing floors for new scenery. There were so many markers of love here, of life. It was overwhelming. 

"Are you all moved out of your old place then, Miss Baker?" She asked, hoping the answer was yes. She couldn't imagine that this new shared house would fit another dinner fork or pillow case before it burst at its seams. 
_ _
Hal
In all honesty, being a mother had been April's biggest dream since she was small. It may have seemed like a small dream to some, but there were two things April had always loved— music and children. She's wanted badly to be a concert pianist, but that had never been something attainable for her. But being a mother— that was exactly what she wanted, and it was easy, too. 

She would take care of doll babies and care for them like they were her own flesh and blood. And though her marriage with Jonah had been... Well, not a pleasant one, she would always be grateful for the two blessed little ones she'd been given. Richie and Mickey were her entire life; and now she'd truly been blessed to share their upbringing with someone who was as invested in them as she was. 

Being a mother was something she was proud of. Her children were of her; she'd made them in her own body, and the people they were today were a direct reflection of her. Her boys were (usually) quite polite, they did well at learning their ABC's and their numbers. Mickey was silly, and loved to dance. Richie was funny, and liked to tell jokes that only a mother could love. Seeing them grow was like a painter finishing a masterpiece, or a farmer growing a prized crop. They were her most precious things in this entire world. 

She poured hot water into a cup and put the tea bag in, bringing the cup to the table. It came accompanied with a plate and some fresh tea cookies she'd just made that morning. "Oh, yes. Things have been settling really nicely. And— you don't have to call me that. It's Mrs. Abrams, but you can just call me April," She assured her quickly. 

She turned and poured herself a cup, having a seat across from her and sipping it before wincing and adding some sugar. "But actually, you see, Eli is working in procuring some money from his family to get us a bigger house in town. And he's working so hard, too— you know my husband, of course." Everyone knew Eli. He was a friendly face—

—that milk man of hers. 

"He's working so hard for us. He's the sweetest, most hardworking man I've ever known," She said, wistfully. "I'm very lucky, at that. He's good to me. And the boys, too." She looked up from her cup and felt herself flush. 

"But that's enough about me," She said quickly. "What about you? How are things at the store?" She asked.
Junior
Carina let her posture go. There was no one to preside over, here. There was no one to prove anything to. Her shoulders curled forward slightly as April laid down the tea and cookies, her hands in her lap to warm her fingers that'd seemingly gone bloodless on the walk over. She looked up as April set her name straight. 

"My apologies, Mrs. Abrams," She paused, "April. Thank you." Carina took up the string on her tea bag and bobbed it in the steaming water, watching the water go dark. Besides the tea, an idea was brewing. 

"Ah, of course. Your husband's is a welcome face in the store each week." She tried to smile warmly to accompany the pleasantry, but it predictably fell flat. She was stuck on the thought of April's empty home. How long would it be vacant? Was it for sale? Were there rooms enough for Mrs. Bigby to have her space and Carina to have hers? It would be so good for Mrs. Bigby to be out of town– quieter. The air was fresher. They'd have a bigger kitchen and Carina could cook their meals. They could have chickens and a few cats to keep the mice away, and–

A silence had fallen, wherein Carina realized April had asked her a question. 
"Oh– the store is just fine. It's the most secure job in town. People need their rations." It was a joke, but a bland one. Carina cleared her throat, trying to understand how to transition the conversation back to April's prior residence. 

"Mrs. Bigby is getting on in years, though she insists on running the register some days. She's still so full of life, I do worry about her being cooped up in her apartment in town. You know what doctors say about fresh air– it's a pillar of a healthy life!" Okay, she'd made the pitch. Now for background. 
"She's got enough money saved to move into a bigger place. I just wonder if she hasn't come across the right one up for sale."
_ _
Hal
Thankfully for Carina, April didn't think too much on the long pauses. Maybe she just chose not to judge too much, as the woman seemed so lost in thought. 

She didn't know Carina well, despite having seen her at the general store for a few years now. She saw her regularly, smiled, made polite talk. But Carina never seemed to open up in the slightest; not like others had in town. April thought she was pretty, she was hardworking, and Mrs. Bigby was also an admirable woman. 

"Well," She put her cup down on the saucer and broke a cookie in half, nibbling on one half thoughtfully. "My previous house is up for sale, actually," She explained. "It's a decent size, I'd say. Two bedrooms, plus a small extra room that I used to use for sewing... And a spacious basement, too, and an easily accessible attic." 

She'd loved that house. The garden she'd worked so hard on, the beautiful kitchen... It was the place her children had been born and raised until now. But the place had had too many memories, too many awful things, for her or the boys to continue living there anymore. 

"Honestly, if she liked the place, I'd sell it for barely anything at all," She admitted. "I hated to move, but I really wanted to move in with my husband." She explained. "And this place... It's nice. But it's small, built for a bachelor. But all the same, it's ours." And she was just happy about that, with little complaint. 

"How old is she now? I admire her hard work, I think she's always up and doing something in the shop whenever I come by!" She nibbled on the cookie again and set it down on the edge of her saucer.
Junior
Carina sipped her tea casually, now that the seed had been planted. In her mind she'd done a fabulous job: not too subtle, not too presumptive. So confident in her groundwork was she that when April offered to sell the house, Carina's feigned surprise was perhaps a touch too aggressive. 

"Oh April, you can't be serious! That's just *Too* Kind." Her hand splayed on her chest and her voice was pitched up from its standard octave, "I'm positive she will have no issue paying you exactly what the property is worth." Carina assured, perhaps prematurely spoiling a good deal for Mrs. Bigby. The girl had a flawed sense of money. How much could the old Baker residence really be, anyway? Sure Mrs. Bigby had it in her pocket. 

"Home is about the family, isn't it?" She chimed, entirely lacking faith in the statement. It seemed appropriate for the moment and she had not had a very tight control of her tongue since the sale had become a distinct prospect.

"Mrs. Bigby just turned 80. It's been a hard few years since Mr. Bigby left us, but she's as sharp up here as I've ever known her– " Carina tapped her temple, "Yet, she's slowing down quite a bit, physically. There are days she takes to bed before the sun sets. I can only imagine being outside the dust of Main Street will help her im*Mense*Ly." She followed with another sip of tea, quite pleased with herself and the unexpected outcome of the delivery. So excited was she about the possible real estate acquisition, the issue of the recent attacks was far from her mind, though he'd written in her notes months ago about the werewolf *Inside* The Baker residence. The memory raised no flags now, however, and she happily selected a cookie from the plate. She should have followed next with a question about April, to maintain the polite volley of conversation, but Carina's tact predictably failed in her preoccupation. 
_ _

"Any other details about the house I should pass on to Mrs. Bigby before we go and look in person? I'm sure she'll fall in love with the place." She spoke with her mouth full. 
_ _
Hal
April's eyebrows raised in surprise, halfway to sipping her own tea, she paused and set the cup back down to properly answer any questions Carina could throw at her. She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows— she wasn't sure why Mrs. Bigby would want to pay the full amount, but she supposed some people just didn't like to be seen as cheap. 

"Well, I don't mind, really. Mrs. Bigby is always so nice to me and the boys and, well, she sometimes even lets the boys pick out a sweet if they use their manners. They always do," She assured her quickly. She'd instilled upright manners in her boys, but of course, they were still little... Mistakes could be made. 

"But I agree that home is all about the family and not much to do with the house itself. I think I'd be completely happy living in a shack with Eli and the boys if it came down to it, so long as we were all happy and safe together." 

She finally picked up her cup, taking a long sip from her cup. She contemplated on Carina's question and tilted her head in thought. "Dallas just had the basement door redone after... Everything." She grimaced and gripped her cup a little tighter. "Some of the doors squeak and the cupboard tends to stick in the winter, but that's about it," She admitted. "I've managed to keep it in good shape for the past few years..." 

Her voice trailed off, a bit forlorn. She'd really, really loved that house. She had envisioned growing old in that house, raising her children there. She supposed it just wasn't meant to be. And maybe that was for the best— maybe now, someone else could be happy there. 

"I hope that she ends up liking the house. The backyard is beautiful in the spring," She said. "The most amazing flowers grow on the bushes. And the smell of honeysuckle— to die for."
Junior
"Mrs. Bigby loves the little ones." Carina nodded, idly casting a glance out the window to see if the boys were out there before vaguely recalling that they'd run off someplace. 

Again, hearing April speak of married life, content with her domesticity, it triggered something in Carina's chest as she tried to relate but couldn't quite. Having a house, sure. She could get behind that. Being in love? That was different. Carina wouldn't know love if it set fire to the General Store with her still inside. She could recall having felt lust, attraction, admiration. But love? Her subordinate, pseudo-daughterly relationship with Mrs. Bigby was the closest thing she could pin to love, and she still would be *Loathe* To share a shack with the woman. 

What would it feel like if a person — a small clutch of people, in April's case— was all you needed to feel whole? The thought made bile rise in Carina's throat. 

"Completely redone?" Carina targeted April's admission, "He had to replace it? I had no idea your encounter was so... Violent." She sipped her tea with eyebrows raised, pinky out. 
"It's so good you or the boys weren't hurt. You know I still haven't seen one of the monsters up close," She admitted. April had piqued her morbid side, now, and Carina had yet to collect April's testimony to record in her sordid little gossip ledger. She all but waved off the other woman's *Lovely* Comments about honeysuckle and whatnot. Carina was more interested in carnage. 
_ _
Hal
Though the boys were out of sight, it was a mother's ear that could hear the rustling off in the distance and somehow know exactly where those little ones were. She'd been hyper vigilant as of late... But she supposed with the full moon not for a good long while, they would be fine playing in the bushes and gorging themselves on the apples that fell from nearby trees. 

All talk of the werewolves made her feel sick to her stomach. That night... She hated thinking about that night. The fear that coursed through her, the cold chill that ran down her spine. 

"It was an awful night," April said, squeezing herself tight in an attempt to self soothe. "But, yes. The door has been completely redone. You wouldn't even be able to tell that... Something happened at all." She could tell Carina was wanting more than that, by the way she leaned in with curiosity. She hated to talk about it. She despised it, actually. 

"The thing," She started. "The... *Werewolf*... Got in through my cellar doors," She said. "I'd left them open on accident. Chained them up tight when I didn't realize the beast was... Down there." She swallowed hard. "It tried to come up the basement stairs. It was clawing and snarling and it almost got me a few times. I thought I was dead. I'm just so glad the boys were with a neighbor that night. I was working late and all..." She sucked in a breath. 

"Oh, it was awful, Carina," She said, cup set down on the saucer as her face went into her hands. "You have no idea how terrified I was." She looked up, tears at the corners of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away and gave a sniff. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't get all emotional." She straightened out her skirt and cleared her throat a little. "What... What were we talking about before?" She asked the woman, but her hands were shaking a bit as she picked up her cup again. Clearly, that attack was a little more than traumatic for the woman.
Junior
Carina had begun her line of questions with her sights on blood, and April's answers did not disappoint. Though she was somewhat sympathetic to the slump of the other woman's shoulders, that would not hold her back now that she'd had a taste of the detail she craved. 

She blinked after the story, a litany of follow up inquiries lining up behind her teeth. 

"You didn't hear it when it broke in? But you were— wow, so: once you heard it on the stairs, you managed to chain the doors?" Her eyebrows were sky-high, her lips forming the next words before her brain could process a logical order, "You just... Had a chain on hand?" She scoffed, "Would've been nice, really, if you'd remembered to use it to hold closed the doors *Before* The thing got in!" 

Yes, Carina was having a great time, entertaining herself with her own detective work— until she noticed the tears in April's eyes. 

"Oh—" She caught herself, her face flashing pink, "Don't cry, April—" Carina panicked, "I'm sure it was awful. It's over now, though, it's over." She only relaxed when April drank another sip of tea. Had she taken it too far? Maybe she'd taken it too far. April would never let Mrs. Bigby buy her old house if Carina kept on like this, making a monster of herself. Relieved when April changed the subject, it seemed the real estate deal wasn't quite canceled. Still, Carina no longer trusted herself to keep it on the table. 

"I should get back to the store, Mrs. Abrams." She stood from her chair, "Thank you for the tea. I'll bring Mrs. Bigby around to see your old house. You'll be hearing from us, I'm sure."
_ _
Hal
She hadn't intended for her tears to bring Carina's line of questioning to a halt, but she was altogether happy that it did. She didn't want to recount the mistakes she'd made that night - ones that could've really ended up with someone killed, including herself. Her sons only being a few doors down, not locking the chains up tight enough... It was enough to make her want to cry out of regret. Something like nausea was bubbling up in her stomach, and she was glad for the tea in that moment to help soothe it. 

"I'm sorry," She apologized once more, bowing her head and rising as Carina did. "I really don't mean to get emotional. My deceased husband always said I cried too much. Sometimes, I think he might've been right." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief; a small and embroidered flower on the corner.

"I hope to hear from you both soon enough," She told her, walking Carina to the door. It was the polite thing to do, even if she was nearly in tears all over again. "Thank you again... For the groceries. And for stopping in and having a chat with me. Feels like I don't talk to many people, these days," She admitted, wiping her eyes again and trying to soothe herself properly. "Don't be a stranger, Miss Vanora. My door is always open." She assured her, pushing the front door open for the woman to make her exit.