“I know what they want to tell me on facts and clinical details. I want to know more about you.”
Noelle scooped some noodles onto her chopsticks and stuck them into her mouth. Chewing as she did.
Evil watched her.
“There’s not a lot to know. Not really. My life as a kid sucked. I had a great grandma. She used to love canning. I remember her constantly growing vegetables and fruits, then all the way in September, she’d can them all for the next year. Always, without fail. She would even have it when she would make a specific day that day. Like, I don’t know, the fourteenth was apple day. Actually, that’s not accurate. There were always so many apples that it would be an entire weekend.”
“You were happy?”
“Yeah, I was happy. It was the only time that I was. She would often tell me it wasn’t my fault. She was my mother’s mother, and I think she felt a little responsible seeing as my mom was an addict.”
“Did she make her that way?” Evil asked.
Noelle shook her head. “My grandmother was a saint. I think the problem with my mom was that she fell into the wrong crowd and never fell out. It was like that all the time. They would fight a lot. Mom would say some nasty things to her. Grandma cried a lot after that. It was usually when she was trying to convince my mom to be better, you know. It was hard, watching them.”
“You miss her.”
“I do. Not my mom. When my grandma passed, I cried. I couldn’t stop crying. I cried so hard some days that my parents kicked me out of the house just so they could have some peace and quiet. My mom never cried. The heartless bitch.” She stopped, pressing her lips together. “Every September, I know it’s probably crazy, but I swear I can still smell the scent of cooking apples or the horrible smell of vinegar. Grandma, without fail, would be there. I’d turn up, and there’d be a cookie. A cookie, some milk, and a smile. Those days were good.”
Evil saw the pain in her eyes.
Noelle had truly loved someone. “I’m named after her, you know. Grandma Noelle. I think my mom did it as a cruel joke. I don’t know. We never got along.” She stared past his shoulder and frowned. “When my parents died, I didn’t care. I didn’t shed a single tear. I never placed a flower on their graves. I was … free. Happy they were gone.” She took a deep breath.
“They hurt you,” Evil said. “They didn’t deserve your pain.”
“I don’t think people see it that way.”
“I don’t give a fuck how people see it. It’s the truth.” Evil shrugged.
“You never had a grandma Noelle, did you?”she asked.
“No.”
“Anyone.”
“Nothing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I learned to live. I learned to survive, and that is what led me to you.”
Noelle laughed.
“Do you know how to can?” Evil asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do.”
“Have you ever done it without your grandma?”
Noelle shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I don’t know why.” She shrugged. “I, er, I think one day when I have a family, I might do it. She taught me, and I don’t want all of that knowledge to be left with just me. I do have her recipe books.”
Evil watched as Noelle glanced behind her. She turned back toward him, her hand hovering over the pot of noodles she’d been eating. He watched her, seeing the struggle inside her, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Noelle?”
She looked up toward him.
“What’s the matter?”