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┏━━━━━━𖤐━━━━━━┓ chapter thirty three: a birthday and a funeral ┗━━━━━━𖤐━━━━━━┛
"I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,'' said the Ghost. "That they are what they are, do not blame me!"
— Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
As a daughter of a theologist, Marlene's childhood was very different from her peers'. Every holiday was an episode of Mythbusters, after which she returned to school possessing a sacred knowledge that could very possibly ruin her classmates' lives. Santa was just a monk, Easter Bunny — a German Judge Judy and you really didn't want to get her started on the Tooth Fairy.
But the greatest myth of them all to have been busted turned out to be...family.
See, to Marlene, family was having dinner with her dad on the days he hadn't been held up at work. Family was her dad taking her to the NY public library every time he had a thing in New-York (and couldn't find a babysitter). Family was the silent visits with her grandmother at the nursing home once a year. Family was her father locking himself in his study on his late wife's birthday and their housekeeper Sona distracting Marlene from the occasional noise of something being smashed coming from behind the closed door.
She gaped at the crowd of people at the grande entrance of a Pemberley-worthy mansion. Yeah, that definitely wasn't her idea of family.
By the looks of it, Marlene had stopped by right in time for a wake. Which took place on her birthday, of all days. Whose it was, she was yet to figure out. Though it wasn't that hard, considering her extended family wasn't particularly...well, extended.
It couldn't have been her grandmother — Ophelia wouldn't pass away for another fifteen years and it obviously wasn't her dad. And since Arthur was an only child, the absence of any aunts and uncles left only one person. The man Marlene's father despised more than the Da Vinci code. Her grandfather Felix.
When the initial shock of the discovery finally wore off, Marlene realised that it was actually a pretty good opportunity to meet the family and do some well-intended snooping. As compared to knocking on their door and having to explain to a peeved butler that she was a distant relation from the not so distant future. Every corner of that mansion was haunted by memories long buried, and Marlene had the prime opportunity to take a peek. No way in hell she'd pass up on that.
She looked down at her clothes: faded jeans she'd got at Salvation Army, a pair of brown ankle boots and Dean's old jacket she'd dug up at Bobby's. Oh, and a black shirt that had a small marinara stain on it. Well, at least it was black, so she was technically following the dresscode. And the pizza had been delicious, so that was a win win.
