Chapter Text
Carmilla rehearsed the speech her mother had given her in her head as they walked up to the front door. Mrs. Karnstein had her hands on Carmilla’s shoulders, guiding her gently up the walkway, and Carmilla clutched the pie tin tightly in her hands.
Mrs. Karnstein leaned forward, lifting a hand to knock on the door.
“Just like we practiced Sweetheart, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
They waited. When the door finally opened Mrs. Cochrane was looking at them with red rimmed eyes.
“...Lily?”
Mrs. Karnstein squeezed Carmilla’s shoulders. “Lizzie, Carmilla had something she wanted to say to you,” she said, “on behalf of the Karnsteins. Go ahead.”
Carmilla took a deep breath, taking a step forward.
“Mrs. Cochrane, we baked you this pie because we’re both very very sorry about what happened to your daughter. We hope you feel better soon and we love you.”
She held out the pie. Mrs. Cochrane put a hand over her mouth.
“Oh my God.” Tears sprung to her eyes. Carmilla looked at Mrs. Karnstein for confirmation that she hadn’t done anything.
“Mom, did I say it wrong?”
“No, Sweetheart, you did great. Here.”
She grabbed the pie from Carmilla’s hands. “Lizzie, let us come in and put this in the fridge for you.”
Mrs. Cochrane wordlessly agreed, turning to let them through. Carmilla had been in her house before, a lot of times, usually alone and sometimes with Ell.
“Thank you both,” Mrs. Cochrane managed to say, “this is so sweet.”
“Lizzie, of course we did it,” Mrs. Karnstein said, “a pie is no real consolation for what you’ve lost. Are you doing okay?”
Mrs. Cochrane grabbed a chair, lowering herself down slowly. “Well, as good as one could expect,” she said wearily, “I’m flying down in a few days for the funeral.”
Carmilla ran back and forth, grabbing plates and utensils.
“She’s a real woman on a mission, isn’t she?”
“We bake for people around town all the time. She knows what to do.”
Mrs. Karnstein joined her at the table. “She made up the recipe all by herself,” she continued, “I told her what happened and she was so upset.”
“Where’s Taz?”
Mrs. Karnstein looked down at the table. “Thaddeus had work.”
“Lily, are you alright?”
“We’re here for you Lizzie, not for my marriage.”
Before Mrs. Cochrane could say anything else, Carmilla hopped into her mother’s lap.
“Okay, the pie is ready!”
“It looks delicious.”
“Thanks! Mom let me fill the pie crust all by myself.”
“Mmm,” Mrs. Cochrane hummed after taking a bite, “that must be why it tastes so much better than normal.”
Carmilla grinned. “See Mom, you should let me bake all the pies!”
“When you're older baby.”
Carmilla watched her eat for a moment before tilting her head. “Mrs. Cochrane, how did Miss Hollis die?”
“Carmilla!” Mrs. Cochrane hissed.
“No, Lily, it’s okay. Eileen was in a car crash, dear.”
Carmilla frowned. “Oh.”
“How is Sherman holding up?’
“Staying strong for Laura. What else can he do?”
She looked at Carmilla fondly. “You know I have a granddaughter that’s five too?”
“Really?”
Mrs. Cochrane pulled out her wallet, producing a photo. “Here she is. Little Laura Eileen Hollis on Halloween.”
She was dressed in a flowing red cape and T-shirt with an S emblazoned on the front. Her hands were on her hips and she was missing a tooth.
“She’s pretty,” Carmilla remarked.
“Lizzie--”
“Laura is doing as well as she could be too, from what Sherman has told me. At least she wasn’t hurt.”
“That’s the one bright spot, isn’t it?”
The longer Carmilla stared at the picture, the more upset she became; Mrs. Karnstein noticed.
“Aw, baby, maybe it’s time to go home.”
She stood, hefting Carmilla up. They said their goodbyes, and Carmilla buried her face in Mrs. Karnstein shirt.
“Honey, shhh,” Mrs. Karnstein said softly, rocking her back and forth on the sidewalk, “it’s okay. I know this is sad and I’m so proud that you talked to her anyway so she would feel better.”
“Mom, I feel really bad for Laura.”
It was one thing for it to have been a woman Carmilla didn’t know; it was still really sad of course. But not as sad as seeing that a pretty girl Carmilla’s age had lost her mother.
Carmilla didn't even want to imagine something bad happening to her mom.