Chance meeting (Goat)

Astrid holds my coat out for me, and I find myself smiling as I take it. "Thanks," I tell her. Another strange thing happening tonight. Normally, I would just take the coat and walk away. But I'm still standing there, and I'm still smiling. Quickly, though, I shake myself out of it. "I'll leave the clothes out here."

I turn away from my new friend, clutching the coat close to me. The walk to my room is short, and I slam the door behind me. The coat gets thrown onto my bed, and my body follows after. I feel myself sink into the many blankets I've piled onto the mattress. I want to fall asleep, wrap myself in fuzzy blankets and drift off to the sound of firewood crackling downstairs. But I've got things to do. With a sad sigh, I drag myself away from the blanket nest.

My wardrobe is right across from the foot of my bed. I push the heavy doors open- they've always been much too heavy for me- and inspect what's inside. Astrid and I look.. about the same size? I've never been good with estimates. I flick through the hangers, before choosing something for her. A large purple sweater and plain old black sweatpants. Comfortable, and warm. After setting aside her clothing, I take the time to change my own clothes. This crop top and thin jeans combo really was not the smartest idea. I tug on a tight nightgown, and layer a hoodie over it. Good enough, I guess.

Gently folding the clothes for my friend, I make my way out of my room. The hallway is much warmer than my room. If I can find that maid again, I'll get her to light the fireplace in my room. When I stop in front of the bathroom, I set the clothes down by the door. I rap my knuckles against the doorframe- once, twice, just so she knows I put the clothes down.

"Thanks."

Thanks. I don't normally hear that said to me. Well, I don't normally do things for people. People do things for me, but I don't do things for people. It's just who I am. I'm not much of a worker, or somebody who does favors. If I do have to do something, I make sure I get something in return. So why am I helping out Astrid tonight? She doesn't have anything to give me. Why am I bothering?

I don't know. I really, really, do not know. And it scares me a bit, that I don't know. I don't know why I'm doing something so wildly out of character. Why, Miette, did you take some freezing girl to your house and give her your own food and clothes and hot water when she clearly couldn't give you anything in return? I don't know. This girl is drawing me in somehow, making me want to help her out, but I can't put my finger on why. My chest feels tight.

"The dining room is down the stairs and to the right. Meet me there instead. Big room, lots of chairs, can't miss it," I call through the door, standing up after I speak. I don't feel like having her come into my room anymore. As I go to step down the stairs, I pause, and look in the direction of my mom's room. She'd most likely be awake at this hour. I could invite her down for some hot food, but there's no guarantee that she'd come. Not even food can lure her out anymore.

I shrug and finally make my way down the stairs. The smell of food becomes more evident the more steps I climb down. I wonder what the maid is cooking. The kitchen is right off the dining room, so I decide to pop in and ask. She tells me pan seared salmon, asparagus, and mashed potatoes. I make a face at the asparagus. "Don't put any of that asparagus on my plate," I snap. I turn to go take a seat, but something stops me again. I look back at the maid, who's rushing to pull the unwanted vegetable off of my plate. "Thanks."

She wanders down into the dining room, and I find myself staring. Her hair really is a mess, but it's probably my fault for not giving her a hairbrush. She smiles, and says something about the food. I smile back at her. Well, it's not really a smile. More of a straight mouth with a corner slightly upturned. I think I've smiled enough for one night. I haven't genuinely smiled this much in weeks, maybe even months. It's starting to get a bit tiring.

"This one's yours," I tell her, pushing forward the plate with the asparagus on it. I take my own plate and sit right down. The food is almost burning hot, but it fills my stomach with warmth that I've been taking for granted all evening. Sitting here, with a fire crackling and shoving my face with warm food, makes me never want to go outside ever again. I shovel the food into my mouth faster and faster, as if I haven't eaten in days. Which is so not true- I had a huge breakfast and lunch today, just like any other day. But I hadn't realized how hungry the cold had made me.

I finish my food fast, and find myself just staring at my plate. "So," I start, looking over at my guest. "How far do you live from here? It's pretty cold out." I dab at my face with a cloth red napkin. Everything in this house is red, honestly. Courtesy of yours truly. Since my mom can't be bothered to leave her room and consult people for home updates, it's up to me. And I really like the color red.

"You could probably just crash here for the night. We got tons of guest rooms," I offer.

Mom.

Where is my mom?

Her body is here. I know that. Her body is curled up in her bed, probably crying or sleeping. She doesn't do much else. But her mind, I don't know where that is. Floating up in the sky, perhaps, carried off by the wind with no way to get back to her body. Or maybe it fell out, and sunk down through the house and into the ground, where all the dead lie. She's as good as dead anyway. The mind is the first to go.

I don't want to tell this to Astrid. I literally just met her. It was opening up enough, bringing her into my home and letting her borrow my clothes. I can't, won't tell her about my mother. "She's-" I cut off my sentence right away. I'm not sure what to say. Yeah, my mom gave up and spends her days laying around in bed? Such a good parent she is. I should be proud to have such a selfish mother.

"She, uh." Breathe, Miette. Lying is okay sometimes. In fact, in this type of situation, it's almost encouraged. "She holes herself up in her room a lot. She. Um. She's a party planner. She plans these huge parties." I make a blowing up motion with my hands, to further emphasize the hugeness of these parties my mom apparently plans. "Yeah. Sometimes she throws them at the house."

My mouth is dry. My mom would be heartbroken if she knew how embarrassed I was of her. I'm sorry, mom. I really am. "We'll invite you to the next one," I say, quickly taking a swig of water. But there won't be a next one. There hasn't even been a first one. I'm a liar.

I'm not hungry anymore. I slowly lower my fork. I'm a liar. I'm a liar, and Astrid knows it. I actually kind of wanted this girl to like me, and you shouldn't lie to people you like. I push my plate away and focus my attention not on the food, but on the girl.

"You don't have to tell her," I say, finally answering her previous statement. "Just like. Sneak out. That's what I do." Well, I'm not so sure it counts as sneaking out anymore. The maids know I leave. Mom knows I leave. They just don't do anything to stop it. I guess calling it 'sneaking out' just makes it seem a lot cooler.

What's the point of sitting around here if I'm not eating anymore? I make a deal of rising to my chair. I keep the water glass in my hand, leaving the plate and silverware strewn across the place I'd been at. It's not my job to pick those up. I'll wait for Astrid to finish eating, and then I can show her a spare room or something. Yeah. Sounds like a plan.

I settle myself against the doorframe, taking occasional sips of my water. The maid dashes past to clean up my dishes. I make no move to thank her this time. I don't really feel generous anymore. Mostly, I just feel guilty. I'm sorry, Mom. "When you're done, I can give you a room. We have a lot."