Page 28 of Gaming with the Gargoyle in Hallow's Cove

“Hi Gwen, Cecelia again. Listen, don’t freak out, we just need to talk. Call me back.”

We stand in stunned silence as message after message plays, Cecelia getting more urgent and annoyed as time goes on.

“Gwen, pick up the fucking phone. There’s a lot on the line here! You can’t just hide in your silly little monster town and hope this goes away!”

Finally, the last message “We are running out of time, I’m coming to Hallow’s Cove. I’ll see you this evening.”

It hangs in the air, heavy amongst us.

We stood there, staring at the answering machine, as if it was about to blow up. "So yeah, she hasn't changed a bit. Still a bitch." Sydney grimaces. "Sorry about that."

Hayley shuffles from foot to foot. "She sounds really intense."

She does sound really fucking intense, and honestly, that makes so much sense for Preston. In hindsight, I was probably pretty easy for him to manipulate, but I can't imagine that he actually liked me very much, because he was always the kind of person that liked a challenge, and I'm just not that girl. Cecelia, at least from how she sounds on the phone, sounds much more his type. For not the first time, I wonder what the hell he was even doing with me. What did he want with some dumpy girl in the backwoods of nowhere when he could obviously have this powerful, beautiful, composed boss bitch that I just heard on the phone?

"When was that message left?" Sydney asks.

Hayley leans over and looks at the machine. "It looks like it was today."

"Great, so she's on her way here. I was kind of hoping that we would be lucky and then it would've been from a few days ago and we missed her."

"No such luck."

"What do you wanna do?" Sydney asks. "Do you wanna leave? Do you want us to go get the guys? Do you want us to go get your lawyer? "

"I hate to break it to you, but we only have one lawyer. And he’s this old slug man. I worry he's not gonna be too much help."

"OK then, so I'm going to call my lawyer, and we're gonna get you a real lawyer. As amazing as this slug man sounds. I have a friend from school that I think will potentially be better. I'll be right back." Sydney pulls out her cell phone as she leaves the room, walking towards the kitchen where the house phone is. Her phone doesn’t work, we don’t have Wi-Fi at the house, but I’ll bet she has their number there.

Hayley wrings her hands and looks toward the door. "I don't have any lawyer friends that I can call, but I could pour you that glass of cider?"

"Thanks. I honestly think that maybe I should be getting home. The odds are that Cecelia is gonna come here to the house, and I don't know that I want to be here when she gets here."

"That's a great idea! Let's leave! I too would like to not be here when she gets here."

Damn, really hates conflict doesn't she?

After Sydney finishes up her call, she writes her friend's number down on a napkin. She then pulls Hayley and I into a hug.

"This is going to be OK. Whatever this bitch wants you are in a better position. You were married first, and now you are pregnant with a Fairfield heir. We can only benefit from her deciding to cause a ruckus and take it to court. Because if I know Cecelia, there is no way that this bitch let Preston put a baby in her.”

And then, it all clicks into place. That is why Preston wanted me. That is why I was useful to him. He must have known that there was no way Cecelia would ever have a baby, and he wanted an heir. I wish it didn't hurt to know that Preston was using me as his gullible little breeder. But it still hurts. How am I letting him do this to me from beyond the grave? What's worse is it makes me feel pathetic.

As we are about to leave, I remember that there is a trunk in the attic with some of Gabe's baby clothes.

"You guys go on ahead, I am going to grab something to surprise Gabe with.” The girls give me a hug, and I take the stairs two at a time until I arrive at the third floor attic. When I open the chest and see Gabe's tiny baby clothes, I can't help but cry. They are so tiny, and they tie up the back like a hospital gown to make room for tiny wings. It’s so cute, and my heart squeezes thinking about the life growing inside me. Monster genes are dominant, so inside me will certainly be a gargoyle. I imagine our baby, dressed in this wee sleep gown, flapping their wings in the bath, like a little bird in a birdbath.

This whole thing with Cecelia is scaring the shit out of me, but Sydney is right. The law is on my side. My wedding date with Preston falls before Cecelia's wedding date, and I’m the one that is pregnant with a Fairfield heir. What's more is, I have something Cecelia doesn't, something invaluable. I have a best friend who is going to help me raise this perfect little baby, and if I'm lucky… maybe more. Surely anything that has happened with us over the last two weeks meant something to Gabe too? Surely when I tell him about our baby, he'll want to be a real family… he'll want to be with me.

I’m a bundle of nervous energy as I skip down the stairs. The sun should be setting soon and I'll be able to tell Gabe. We will get a game plan together for talking to Cecelia, and I’ll talk to him about us.

As I'm locking the door to the house, I hear tires squeal down the road. It's one of those really loud, rumbling, sports cars that I have only ever seen in the city. We don't even have one street light in town, so nobody drives like that here. My stomach drops out as the bright red car screeches to a halt in front of the house. Of course. I'm not surprised when the door opens and delicate high heeled ankles step out of the car. Cecelia stands, and she looks exactly like I remember from the pictures. She has long, shiny brown hair, and wears an expensive looking cream blouse, and a pair of tailored houndstooth trousers. I pick at my rolled hem denim shorts, and know how plain I must look. I wish that I had worn something other than my faded pink D&D t-shirt that says “Sleight of Hand” on it, because I would like to look a little more put together. While I haven't left Hallows Cove often, I do know how Preston saw me when I dressed like this. Something tells me Cecelia is going to see me the same way. She's going to see an immature, ignorant girl that can be easily manipulated. Every time we went into the city, Preston always picked out my clothes, because he had always wanted to make sure that I was “presentable” to be seen with him.

Cecelia snatches her purse out of the car and threads her arm through with jerky motions. She slams her door and her eyes fix on me.

The clacking of her heels on the driveway is a war drum as she storms toward me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this town so backwards that you don't even answer your fucking phone?" she snaps.

"I am—"