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“One of the other girls in my class has two moms like me,” Diana announces as they’re waiting to cross the street. "She told me yesterday."
“Hell yeah,” Addie says, raising her fist in solidarity. “Feminism.”
Diana laughs, tucking her fist into Addie’s other hand. “You’re so silly.” She says fondly, like she’s the one looking after Addie and not the other way around. “How many moms do you have?”
“Just the one,” Addie tells her. “And a Dad. Got the whole set.”
“What’s it like having a Dad?” Diana asks.
Addie makes a non-commital noise, wondering how to explain difficult parental relationships to a small child who was recently kidnapped and now has weird hang-ups about men, but is luckily saved by the crosswalk sign turning green. Diana begins to drag them both across the road, her small palm hot in Addie’s own. Her fingernails are smeared with hot blue courtesy of Addie’s nail polish bag, making it look like she’s turning into a Smurf.
They’re on their way to the dentist’s office, Addie entrusted with the important task of taking the heir of the Gordon dynasty to her check-up appointment. Alison was meant to take Diana today but got called into work on short notice, and there’s no point even asking Lauren to take an afternoon off.
Addie hasn’t even seen Lauren for longer than five minutes in the past month, and that’s pushing it.
Truth be told, Addie doesn’t know how she ended up in the Gordon’s lives. She thought that the last time she ever saw Lauren would be her poor broken body, crawling towards the doorway and covered in blood. She had promised to bring help, and Addie hadn’t believed her.
The bathroom was meant to be her grave, Addie knows that now. She was meant to die there in the dark, with Jigsaw’s voice echoing in her ear. She’d curled up on the tiled floor, and screamed and wept, and drifted in and out of consciousness before the authorities had shown up. Lauren hadn’t broken her promise.
Addie had woken up on the third day in hospital to find Lauren asleep in the chair beside her bed, leg propped up on a stool. She’d reached out to her, thinking that this was a mirage, a figment of her imagination. Lauren had been warm, and sturdy, and she snored like a freight train.
Addie’s heart rate had jumped on the monitor, which was embarrassing enough. The cocktail of drugs she was on had sent her quickly back to sleep, fingers still brushing Lauren’s hospital gown.
The next time she had woken up, Lauren had been replaced by Alison. Addie hadn’t known who she was at first, this pretty blonde woman curled up in Lauren’s chair, reading a paperback book about healing after trauma.
“Hello?” Addie had said, and the woman had looked over at her, her face easing into a smile.
“Hey there.” She’d said. “I heard you saved my wife.”
“Oh.” Addie flushed pink. “Alison Gordon.”
“Addie Faulkner-Stanheight.” Alison replied, and reached out to touch her hand. Her skin was soft, and her nails were painted a pretty baby pink. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” Addie said. “Lauren-“
“Loz is in physical therapy,” Alison said, because of course Lauren had a dykey nickname that only her wife called her. “She didn’t want you to be left alone.”
“Oh,” Addie had said, embarrassed and thrilled all at once. “Thank you.”
“You can go back to sleep if you want,” Alison said, her hand warm in Addie’s own. “This is the most peace I’ve had all week.”
“Sorry,” Addie said, even though she didn’t entirely know what she was apologising for.
“It’s okay,” Alison said. “I understand.”
Addie had fallen back asleep as easily as drowning, a great wave taking her under. The next week was a blur of doctors, nurses, and police officers, asking her the same questions over and over.
Where does it hurt? Describe the man in the bathroom? Why did you kill Mr Hindle?
It had been a relief when both Alison and Lauren had turned up during Agent Strahm’s final interrogation and bullied the officer out of the room. They were joined by their daughter Diana, who still had rope burns around her wrists, and who climbed up onto Addie’s hospital bed with wide eyes.
“Mommy says you saved her,” Diana said, and prodded the bandages on Addie’s shoulder. “Is that true?”
“Nope,” Addie said. “She saved me.”
In the corridor, the Gordons were yelling at Strahm. Addie couldn’t make out the words, but she knew she was the subject. She winced, and Diana reached into her satchel and pulled out a book.
“I want you to read this to me,” She said bluntly.
“Why, can’t you read?” Addie asked.
Diana gave her a look. It was one that Addie had seen on Lauren’s face in the bathroom.
“It’s better if someone else does it.” Diana wriggled in beside Addie on the bed, her body warm. “And you need to do the voices.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Addie said, and turned the first page.
And now Addie is walking hand-in-hand with Diana like she’s some old family friend, and not a torture game acquaintance. Addie doesn’t even know how it really happened - one moment she was screaming in fear that Lauren would forget her, and then she was in the Gordon’s kitchen, helping Alison make dinner. She’s never had any sort of relationship like this before, either friendly or romantic, and everything is new and scary.
She learns that Lauren is fussy with her clothes, but Alison dresses her and Diana for comfort. She learns that Lauren only came out as gay in her late twenties, but Alison came out at sixteen to bemused parents. She learns that Lauren and Alison are going to involve her in their family, no matter what.
The dentist’s office is located in a large building on the good side of the city. They have to ring a bell to be let in, and Addie feels like they’re going to frisk her on the way out, in case she steals any of the nitrous oxide whilst the nurse isn’t looking.
The receptionist greets them cheerily, and slides across some paperwork for Diana to fill out whilst they wait to be called. Addie can’t help but stare at the lavish white room, with free magazines to read, and posters of smiling happy people. The last time she got a tooth pulled, it was in the bathroom of her ex-girlfriend with a pair of pliers and a dream.
“What medication do I take?” Diana asks, chewing the end of the biro.
“Klonopin,” Addie says. “And Triazolam for the nightmares.”
“Please can you spell them?” Diana asks, and Addie tries her best.
Diana writes it down in her neat print, so different from the scrawl of Lauren. Addie thought the whole doctor’s handwriting thing was a joke, and then she had to read a shopping list that Lauren had written on the back of a receipt. It was like deciphering a fucking code.
Adam picks up one of the magazines and flicks through it. It’s for women of a certain age, discussing the merits of layering outfits, and the wonders of a warm scarf. Addie chews on her hangnails as she imagines herself in any of these stupid outfits. Alison keeps trying to give her old clothes that she doesn’t wear anymore, but their styles are very different. Alison’s favourite item of clothing is a turquoise knit jumper that was part of a Chanel collection in 1999. Addie’s favourite item of clothing is a Nine Inch Nails shirt that she stole from a merch stall after a concert.
Diana finishes up with her paperwork, signing her name at the bottom and drawing a cat face in the O in Gordon.
“Very nice,” Addie says. “Still hoping for that late torture present, huh?”
“It’s not fair.” Diana pouts. “Jeremy at school got a puppy when he broke his arm on his bike, and Mommy won’t even let me have a cat.”
“I’ll get you a cat,” Addie says. “I’ll steal one of the mean ones from my apartment block.”
“Like the one with no tail?” Diana asks. She’s visited Addie’s apartment once, and was delighted by both the feral cat colony and the drag queens that occupy the building. “He’s so cute! And loud.”
“He can sleep on your bed and give you fleas,” Addie promises. “And maybe do a wee in Mommy’s shoes.”
Diana opens her mouth to respond, but a nurse sticks her head out of one of the surgeries and calls for her.
“Miss Diana Gordon?”
Diana looks at Addie, biting her bottom lip.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Addie asks.
“I don’t think children can go in on their own,” Diana says, which Addie knows isn’t true. Alison had even said that she could wait outside and read the fabulous literature on offer but Addie can see the fear written on Diana's face. Addie stands upright, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“I guess I need to make sure you don’t climb out the windows,” Addie says. “Or steal any of the dentist's tools.”
“Mommy won’t let me have a scalpel until I’m at least sixteen,” Diana informs her.
“Mommy has the right idea,” Addie says and follows her into the surgery.
Diana has “perfect teeth” according to the dentist, and they’ll discuss the need for braces when she’s a little bit older. Addie jots down notes for Lauren and Alison to pour over later, imagining them both discussing their daughter's oral hygiene over a glass of wine and a Xanax.
“Someone in my class already has braces,” Diana says, inspecting the sheet of stickers that the nurse has presented to her for being a model patient.
“Some children need them earlier than others.” The dentist says. “It’s all to do with genetics and environment.”
He looks over at Addie, who is sitting on the couch reserved for plus-ones. “Did your sister need braces when she was your age?”
“Oh god ,” Addie says, as Diana laughs.
“Addie isn’t my sister!” She says, delighted. “She’s a friend of my mom’s. She saved her life when she was abducted.”
The dentist and the nurse exchange glances. Addie wonders if she can explain the bathroom trap using the tooth-shaped stress ball that Dana was offered when she walked in, and the plushie toothbrush that Addie’s been fiddling with.
“I’m very sorry for the mistake-.” The dentist apologises, but Addie holds up her hands.
“It’s cool,” She says. “I get it all the time. And to answer your question, I’ve never had braces.”
“Did you never need them, or?”
Addie shrugs. Her parent’s relationship with dentistry was filling her sippy bottles with Pepsi and telling her the tooth fairy wasn’t real when she was 6. “I don’t know.”
The dentist smiles at her. He’s an older man, salt and pepper hair. Addie imagines him in a Jigsaw trap, screaming as he’s forced to tear out his own teeth with pliers. Maybe the nurse would be there too, still dressed in her blue scrubs but splattered with blood.
“You should book an appointment with one of our receptionists.” He says, breaking Addie out of her imagination. “We can do a check-up.”
“Then we could go together!” Diana says happily. “And you could get a sticker too.”
She waves the sticker in question. The one she’s chosen is of a beaming anthropomorphic tooth giving the viewer a thumbs up. Lauren would probably accuse it of being too saccharine, of putting a face to the important world of dentistry.
“A sticker does sound very exciting,” Addie says, and Diana wiggles her feet.
Addie drops Diana back to school with a paper bag of McDonald's and a magazine about some British band she likes. Whenever Addie asks her questions about any of the band members, Diana’s face goes pink, and she can’t look her in the eye. Addie thinks this is absolutely hilarious, and can’t wait to tease Lauren about her daughter’s heterosexual crush.
She smokes on the way back to the Gordon family home to drop off the paperwork, even though Lauren would kill her if she knew. Alison also disapproves of smoking, but will steal from Addie when drunk, the both of them hiding in the guest bathroom with the windows open.
“I used to have a girlfriend who could blow smoke rings,” Addie says once, a little loose with wine. “I thought it was gorgeous.”
Addie tries her best but just ends up coughing. Alison smacks her on the back, giggling, and presses a lipstick kiss to her forehead.
“Cute,” She says, and Addie had almost dropped the cigarette on her bare foot.
She can’t stop thinking about the dentist’s comments today. She is young enough to be Alison and Lauren’s daughter, if they’d somehow managed to get pregnant at sixteen through the sheer power of imagination and a prayer. Yet they treat her like an adult, part of the family, someone who they trust to take care of their daughter and get her back safe.
Addie has never been that sort of person before. She doesn’t know how to feel about it.
When she gets back to the Gordon family home, the door is only locked once, even though Addie knows she double-locked it when she left. Lauren is very into home security at the moment, for obvious reasons, and there are alarm systems and safety measures all over the house.
She steps over the threshold, one hand balled into a fist. There’s music playing in the kitchen, something classical, and Addie wouldn’t put it past John Kramer to have set up a tableau featuring Billy the Puppet playing the double bass.
She kicks open the door with her Doc Marten boot, leaving a greasy imprint across the white wood. Lauren, in the middle of drinking a glass of water, chokes comically, spilling water down her white shirt. Her cane, which was leaning against the counter, clatters to the ground.
“Oh my god ,” Addie says, “I thought you were a serial killer.”
“Two in one lifetime?” Lauren says, bending down to pick up her cane. “A little extreme.”
“You never know,” Addie says, trying to control her heartbeat. “Misery loves company.”
“Alison is going to kill you when she sees what you’ve done to her panelling by the way,” Lauren says reproachfully. “She spent a lot of time picking out the aesthetics of this kitchen.”
“It’ll clean up,” Addie says although she’s not so sure. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing in my own house?” Lauren asks, dabbing at her shirt. Addie tries not to stare at the outline of Lauren’s bra. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Addie takes the dentist's note from her pocket and waves it in the air. “Bringing this back. And maybe stealing some of your leftovers, depending on what was available.”
“We have lasagna and some mac & cheese that has developed a new strain of fungus,” Lauren says, wrinkling her nose. “How was the dentist?”
“All Diana’s teeth had to be pulled,” Addie says. “She’s currently gumming her way through school lunch like a turtle.”
Lauren rolls her eyes and takes the paper from Addie’s hand. She scans through it quickly and then pins it to the fridge with a pink triangle magnet. Addie had bought her the magnet not long after leaving the hospital. She thinks she may have still been high at the time.
“Was she good?” Lauren asks.
“She was perfect,” Addie says. “As always. She even got a sticker.”
“Impressive,” Lauren says.
“Wish I’d got a sticker after I left the hospital.” Addie jokes. “Congratulations! You survived a Jigsaw trap, have a sticker and this lollipop.”
“Lollipops are bad for your mouth,” Lauren informs her. “They push your teeth forward.”
Addie rolls her eyes. She’s put worse things in her mouth than a strawberry-flavoured sucker.
“Have you had lunch?” Lauren asks. “My surgery got cancelled due to a scheduling error. We could go out.”
Addie mock-gasps. “Are you inviting me out on a date Doctor Gordon? What would your wife think?”
“She told me to ask you,” Lauren says, a wry smile on her lips.
That stumbles Addie for a moment. She thinks about Lauren and Alison discussing her in private, and shakes away the weird feeling it gives her. “Okay. If you’re paying.”
“Of course,” Lauren says. “A reward for helping us out with Diana.”
“She’s a good kid.” Addie blurts out. “Seriously. I don’t know how she’s your daughter.”
“Neither do I,” Lauren says, and places her glass of water upside down on the drying rack. “I suppose I have Ally to thank for her upbringing.”
Loz and Ally. Sometimes Addie is surprised that they don’t go the whole hog and paint the outside of the house in the lesbian flag. The doorbell could even be the theme tune to the L-Word or the Ellen show.
“Your vast array of servants also contributed to Diana’s upbringing,” Addie says.
Lauren laughs. “Oh yes, the nannies and the butler helped.” She glances over at Addie. “And you.”
“Am I a nanny or a butler?” Addie asks, wiggling her eyebrows. She’s aiming for nanny, as she can’t buttle to save her life.
“I don’t know.” Lauren muses. “I think you’re just our Addie.”
Addie flushes pink and looks away. She can feel Lauren’s eyes on her, the same way she had looked at Addie in the bathroom, curious but hungry.
“C’mon.” Addie says, clearing her throat. “I’m starving, and I want one of those unhealthy burritos you hate.”
“I can’t convince you to switch to a salad?”
“Never,” Addie says, placing a hand on her heart. “Carbohydrates till I die.”
Lauren mock-sighs, and picks up her cane. Her shirt still hasn’t dried, but Addie isn’t about to tell her. “Let’s make a move then. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Addie says, and follows her out.