Page 14 of You've Got Hate Mail
She points at it. “Burned it off in a fried chicken accident. Girls were hanging lower than I thought.”
“That must’ve hurt.”
“Not as bad as being married did.”
“Cricket, meet Aunt Pip.” Mabel sails back into the kitchen. “She owns this place.”
“I don’t owe a play,” Aunt Pip says to Mabel.
“Place. Youownthisplace.”
“Oh. Yes, I do. Outlived my bastard of a husband, so I’m using everything I’ve got to do things he would’ve hated.”
“She told me she was planning on reading a book all morning, or I would’ve prepared you already,” Mabel tells me. “What you see is—well, it’s what you get.”
My eyes get hot again.
I instantly love Aunt Pip as much as I instantly love Mabel and Ginny, even if Pip’s near nudity is making me flash back to my own most traumatic moment.
“Is it just the three of you?” I ask Mabel. “No, four. I met Samantha last night.”
“There are seven of us here these days,” Mabel replies. “Whenever you’re ready, you can meet everyone else.”
“And you’ve all—you’ve all gone viral?”
“Even me,” Aunt Pip says, pointing to her scarred breast again. “For a hot minute there, I had the nip everyone was talking about.”
“Did you get breakfast?” Mabel asks her.
Aunt Pip gives her adon’t be stupidlook. “No, I didn’t get breastfed. That’s probably what’s wrong with me.”
“Breakfast, Aunt Pip. Cinnamon rolls? Coffee?”
“Oh! No, I was about to offer to wrestle Cricket for the last roll.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say quickly.
Mabel studies me like she wants to tell me it takes a lot of energy to handle the hate mail and the death threats and the snarky comments that come in when you’re the world’s current most-despised internet sensation.
But all she says is, “You know where the kitchen is now whenever you want food. We keep the fridge and cabinets pretty well stocked.”
“I—how do I—I didn’t ask how much it costs?—”
“Who’s the boss? Well, no one, except Mabel’s the boss,” Aunt Pip says.
“How much it costs, Aunt Pip,” Mabel corrects. She looks at me again. “And it’s nothing. When you’re up for it, pitch in with chores, but everyone here knows the mental and emotional toll that you’ve been through.”
“You—for real?”
Her face relaxes into a soft smile. “For real. The pictures in the hall? Those are all women who’ve stayed here when they went viral, lost jobs, lost family and friends, lost relationships… We’re here to be whatever you need while you’re in turmoil.”
My eyes start leaking again. “That’s just so nice of you.”
“We’ve all been there.”
“You fought a bear?” Aunt Pip says. “When? You didn’t tell me about that.”
“We’ve allbeen there.” Mabel’s lips quirk affectionately as she shakes her head at Aunt Pip. She looks back at me. “If you stay long-term, we’ll talk about more permanent options for pitching in, but if all you need is some time to get your bearings back and let the world’s attention fade, then do whatever you need to do to work through it all.”
