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The embroidery on the pillow is leaving marks on Amanda's face. A roof over her head is great and all, she's grateful for it and shit, but the couch is slightly too short for her to stretch out, and all the decorative cushions dig in and make her neck ache.
As Amanda pries open her eyes to greet the midday, she's met with two big blue ones staring into her soul. Jeff must have dropped off Corbett while she was asleep.
There's a long pause as the two of them stare— what's the drill for waking up to a Victorian ghost child by your bedside, anyway? Amanda's got no clue.
"Where's your Mom?" Mandy finally asks, sitting up and stretching out. She hasn't slept in a proper bed in half her life, but apparently her body didn't get the memo. Her back hurts.
Corbett doesn't talk to her a lot. Corbett doesn't talk a lot, period. She gives a little shrug and Amanda doesn't really expect an answer, but the girl's small voice tells her, "hospital."
"Is she okay?" Amanda stands up, already reaching for her jacket, as Corbett gives her a judgemental look.
"She works there."
"Oh." Amanda clears her throat, standing in the middle of the living room.
"I'm hungry," Corbett informs her, already shuffling towards the kitchen. She makes a point to pause, turn back to Amanda, and stare to make sure she's following. The message is clear: make me food.
"What do you eat?" Mandy asks as she moves past the kid to the kitchen, getting her own green tea ready.
"A lot of things." Corbett watches her as she brews her tea with a blank expression. "I like hot dogs."
Amanda can make hot dogs, probably.
She quickly learns that Corbett likes to put them together herself. Corbett refuses to touch the one she made, and meticulously makes an identical one of her own with her shaky kid hands. As they eat, Corbett asks between bites, "why are you still here?"
Rude question. Fair, but rude. She's been crashing on Lynn's couch for a little over a month now. "... Your Mom would feel bad if she kicked me out."
"She kicked daddy out."
"... Yep."
"Do you think they're going to get a divorce?"
Amanda watches Corbett's expression carefully. It doesn't really change. Corbett isn't the most expressive kid. "Probably, yeah," she answers after a beat. Corbett's eyebrows furrow slightly, like she's thinking about how that would go.
"Will I have to live with daddy?" Jesus, that's a sad question. The kid says it with the same reverence she would have if she was asking what comes after death.
Amanda shakes her head. "I don't think your Mom will let that happen."
Corbett stays quiet for a few moments, lost in thought, before she says, "I don't want to stay with daddy." She says it so quietly, like it's a confession that could ruin her life.
Amanda nods, leaning against the counter. "Hey. That's okay. You know that, right? You're a great kid, don't feel bad. Your dad's been shitty to you. Fuck, I mean— dammit."
A tiny smile tugs at the girl's face. "You swear a lot."
Mandy lets herself soften a little. Small as it is, it might just be the first smile Corbett has let her see. "Yeah? You think that's funny? Do you ever swear?"
The kid's eyes widen, and she shakes her head fervently. "No! I'm too little to swear."
Mandy nods slowly, offering the kid a catlike grin. "Okay. But if you ever want to, promise I won't tell on you. Deal?"
Corbett considers it carefully, like it might be a trick, before shaking one of Mandy's hands in her own tiny one. "Deal."
Corbett goes quiet again not soon after, putting her own dish in the sink and moving to line up her collection of Barbie dolls on the living room floor. Amanda sits down on the couch and watches curiously. She's always had a soft spot for dolls. She didn't really have them as a kid, save for one ratty cabbage patch kid her Mom had given her that she'd held on to until John died.
"They're pretty," she tells Corbett, who nods.
The little girl holds one up proudly, then puts it back in the row. "Do you wanna come play with me..?" She asks.
"I don't know. How do I play?"
Corbett looks at her like she's stupid. "Line them up."
Right. It's not exactly a difficult to follow game. She sits with Corbett and lines up the dolls, making sure each of them has matching shoes and an outfit on, even if the little girl sometimes decides that an outfit is boring.
"You're a nice babysitter," Corbett tells Amanda, after a little while. And shit, she could just cry at that.
"Yeah? You're a nice kid." Amanda gently ruffles the girl's hair, earning a little smile and a wrinkled nose. "You can always talk to me, if you need someone, okay? I've got your back, kid." It's a less insane way of saying what she wants to, a less insane way of saying 'I would kill and die to protect you from anything', but Mandy's been trying to be less insane lately overall.
Corbett nods, brushing one of her doll's hair with the palm of her hand and setting it down. "Do you have a mom and dad?"
Kid is on a roll with the hard hitting questions. Amanda has to think over her reply. "No."
"How were you born then?" Corbett looks at her, eyes squinted slightly in suspicion. Like she tried to trick her into lying on purpose.
"I was born…" Amanda begins, holding the kid's stare and raising an eyebrow. "Out of a pile of sludge."
"Sludge?"
"Sludge. Toxic sludge. That's why I don't have parents, cause it wouldn't be good for me to visit toxic sludge, hey?"
Corbett doesn't even think that over, just shoots her a look and hands her another doll. "Shoes."
"On it, boss."