Hairwolf
Chapter Five

“I don’t know. You sure it’s the same necklace? You don’t remember, ah?”

“No. I have to go,” Stef says, defeated. She heads towards the door.

Lillian watches, torn between what to do. “You already know who he is, Stef. You’re just blocking it out. A professional will draw that out safely. I could cause more damage.”

“I know.” Stef reaches for the door knob and pulls the door open. Lillian can’t decide if she’s playing this out or really giving up. What is she keeping from her? Lillian crosses to block her.

“Stefanie...?”

Stef can’t do this. She doesn’t have time. She gives her a hug. “Thank you.”

Lillian asks, “what are you doing?”

“I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”

“So you’re going to drop it?” Lillian asks.

“I can’t let anyone else know about this, Lillian. You have to understand that.”

“It happens to people all the time. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was attacked as a child. You work it out. You get through it. You don’t ignore it.”

“How is what I just experienced, ignoring it? I’d say that was pretty much, in your face

accepting it. But I wasn’t attacked. Not that way. You can’t help me, I get that. But you can’t tell

anyone about this, either. Promise me,” Stef pleads.

Lillian steps away from the door, asking, “are you sitting for Old man Winster tonight?”

Stef is aware Lillian’s avoiding an answer. “Yes! Now promise me, Lillian.”

“No!”

“Please.”

This is a side of Stef Lillian hasn’t seen before. She’s very serious and this is very important to her.

“I won’t use your name, but I’ve got to get help on this.”

Stef is out of options at this point. Lillian’s friendship and concern is proving to be more of a detriment than anything. Stef needs this to be confidential but Lillian’s threatening that.

Lillian watches her exit the office. There’s no goodbye, or we’ll talk tonight. The door closes, leaving Lillian to wonder what just happened.

Stef walks deadpan across an empty parking lot towards her Chevy Tahoe. Whatever concerns she has are greater than what was revealed in the session. She slows her pace, as if to be wondering what she’s doing or where she’s going. Her mind is so consumed with this new problem she

feels numb. She stops in the center of the parking lot and stares at her Tahoe.

“I can’t worry about this. I can’t. She’s going to do what she’s going to do. I was so close.”

She continues to the Tahoe and leans against the driver’s door, clutching her bag to her stomach.

“Why can’t I remember?” She closes her eyes, pressing them tight, hoping to force a result. But there isn’t any. “I was in the truck. How did I get out of that?”

Lillian’s standing outside her building watching Stef go through this conflict. She too is

struggling with what to do. Stef is her best friend and she trusted her enough to include her into the deepest, darkest arena of her life.

Lillian approaches the Tahoe. “Stefanie,” what’s going on?”

It’s pointless for Stef to rehash it again. She just stares blankly at Lillian.

“All right, listen to me. I’ll do it on your terms if you do it on mine.”

“You won’t tell anybody?”

“Look at you. Look at me. I’m worried sick over you. No, I won’t tell anybody.”

“What are your terms?”

Stef is waiting for Lillian’s terms. If she’s promised not to tell anybody about the attack, then the terms can’t be all that bad. But then again, she’s dealing with Lillian. She’s the sister she’s never had and will do what it takes to protect Stef, regardless of what Stef thinks is best.

“I know what you’re trying to do but I want to know why and I want the truth,” Lillian says.

“You’re not gonna like it – or believe it. But I’ll deal with that when the time comes. But I really got to go. Thank you.” Stef pulls Lillian in for a hug and holds on tight.

Lillian still isn’t convinced she’s doing the right thing but she likes this resolve over the previous one. She’d rather be in-the-loop on Stef’s terms, than out-of-the-loop on hers. Stef gives her a kiss on the cheek and enters her truck. The window winds down. Stef fans in the cooler outside air and notices Lillian’s green silk shirt ruffling in the breeze. It looks nice. Lillian looks nice. But then again, she always does. Lillian’s a classy dresser.

“I like that shirt,” Stef says. “Is that silk, over the black pants?! You have such good

taste! Aren’t you afraid of it getting dirty?”

“It’s not like I work in a salt mine. I’m in an office all friggin day, not out bailing hay.”

“I bailed hay once. It was actually quite fun.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lillian says, smiling. Then, “speaking of shirts, where’d you get that, the bottom of your laundry basket? You dress like a twelve-year-old.”

“Bite me! I prefer wearing my clothes, not taking care of them.”

“Oh, trust me, sister, it shows,” Lillian says, lovingly. “I’ll set you up. We’ll go shopping.”

“Thanks, Lil,” She’s not referring to the shopping and Lillian knows it.

Lillian enters her office and crosses to her desk. She reaches for her schedule book and scans the upcoming dates. As she’s doing this, her eyes roll to a photo sitting on her desk. It’s of her and

Stef at a backyard picnic. They’re posing for a selfie, smiling ear to ear. Lillian’s hair is different

in the photo. It must have been taken a long time ago. She considers their friendship. She closes her schedule book and types on her computer. The screen shows werewolves. The images are intense, mostly from Hollywood films and random artist depictions. She keys in on the words, Folklore, and Myth. She closes out of the site with disdain, and, “Come on, Lillian!”

After a moment with the photo of her and Stef, she drops back in her seat, struggling with something. “Ten years old. My God in Heaven. No wonder she avoids relationships. She doesn’t trust anybody. Except me. She trusts me. Jesus, I’m all she’s got.”

She looks back at the photo, “you’re going to owe me big time, lil sis.” Lillian clicks back on the website of Werewolves, continuing . . . “Where talkin T-bone steak, rare, with grease-fat dripping all over your vegetarian grill. Man, talk about ugly,” she says looking at the many pictures of werewolves. “Oh. Now wait a minute. You’re pretty cute.”

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