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“Goth heiress caught kissing an unknown Strangetown man with a blonde bowlcut mullet.”
Mortimer stared at the front page of the Pleasantview Daily as Alexander sat across from him at the dining table, calmly reading the contents of another article somewhere between the front and back pages of the newspaper.
“News day is awfully slow today, isn’t it?”
Alexander nodded, remaining quiet, as Mortimer heard footsteps scurrying down the stairs. Cassandra popped into view, still dressed in black pajamas, her hair tied up into her signature pigtails as she adjusted the round glasses on her face.
“Good morning, Father,” she said, “Good morning, Alexander.”
“Good morning,” Mortimer responded back, “...We heard you’ve been seeing someone.”
Cassandra froze, a horrid expression flashing across her face.
“I meant to tell you sooner, Father,” she stammered, “I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t end in failure again.”
“Well, no better way to figure that out than by inviting your new friend over for dinner,” Mortimer said, beaming, “It’ll be good for him to get a feel for life in this town, wouldn’t it?”
Cassandra nodded hesitantly, her terrified expression still frozen on her face.
“We’ll have Mr. Carr prepare the finest lobster thermidor, with baked alaska for dessert,” Mortimer continued, “Your friend doesn’t have any allergies, does he?”
“Not that I know of, no.”
“Ah, wonderful. Tell him to come to the house tomorrow. Alexander and I will be able to judge him then.”
“Huh?” Alexander said, looking up from his paper, “Who are we talking about?”
“...Nothing,” Mortimer said, “Go back to reading your paper, and let us know if you find any interesting articles.”
Alexander nodded, burying his head back in the paper as Mortimer eyed the photo that the Pleasantview Daily reporter caught with Cassandra and the unknown man.
He’s wearing a suit…in Strangetown? Among ninety degree weather? I suppose it’s safe to assume that he has very good heat resistance.
That, or he prioritizes being dapper over convenience.
Good for him!
“Are you sure you’re not mad, Father?” Cassandra asked, worried.
“Mad?” Mortimer said, stunned, “Why would I be mad about you choosing someone to dedicate the rest of your life with? And you’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.”
“Well, after Don…and Darren…”
“Don was a playboy who deceived all of us into pitying him so he could steal our wealth, and Darren was twice your age. Whoever this man is, he can’t possibly be worse than either of those two.”
Mortimer paused, then quickly turned back towards the picture of the man on the newspaper.
“...How old is this man?”
“Same age as me…but slightly younger though, since his birthday’s later in the year.”
Oh, thank the heavens.
“Wonderful,” Mortimer said, “I look forward to meeting him tomorrow.”
—
The next day arrived as Mortimer stood near the gate leading to the Goth manor’s graveyard garden, watching their butler, Zach Carr, tend to the weeds residing near some of his ancestor’s tombstones.
Thirty minutes until Cassandra brings her boyfriend over for dinner today.
Mortimer walked around the outdoor space, eyeing the neatly trimmed grass and the shade around the trees planted near his home.
No leaves in sight. Everything appears presentable.
Mortimer glanced over at the fence, noticing Cassandra walking on the sidewalk on the other side of it with the man from the photo towing behind her, holding his hand. He was dressed in a completely black suit, with a collared shirt that covered his neck, while also holding what appeared to be two red gift bags.
Oh! They’re early!
Mortimer scurried over as Cassandra opened the gate, letting the man walk before her before stepping onto the lot and closing the gate behind her. He made eye contact with Cassandra as he caught up to them, prompting Cassandra to gesture to the man beside her.
“Father, this is Vidcund,” Cassandra said, “My boyfriend.”
Vidcund made an awkward-looking smile as he waved at Mortimer.
Large nose, sharp chin, narrow blue eyes, and overall some very angular features. Very unlike the people here in Pleasantview.
“Mortimer Goth,” Mortimer said, holding his hand out, “Cassandra’s father.”
Vidcund nodded, looking down at Mortimer’s hand before grabbing it and shaking it firmly. Mortimer could feel sweat from his hand, though figured it’d be best to make no comment of it.
“...Vidcund Curious.” the man said, using his other hand to adjust the green-tinted aviator glasses on his face as his gift bags hung from his wrist, “Though, um…you know that already. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Goth.”
“Oh, please. There’s no need for formalities. You can just call me Mortimer. Most people in Pleasantview do.”
“Ah, right. Of course.”
Mortimer let go of Vidcund’s hand, watching as Vidcund peered inside one of the gift bags.
“I, um, believe this one’s for you.”
Vidcund held out a bag for Mortimer to take. Mortimer took the bag as he noticed sweat dripping down Vidcund’s face, which likely would’ve been soaking his clothes if they were light enough for sweat to be visible at all.
He’s steaming in this extraordinarily hot weather.
“Thank you for the gift,” Mortimer said, beaming, “Why don’t we go inside? Mr. Carr is preoccupied with gardening, so I can take your coat for you.”
“Oh, it’s okay! You don’t need to do that.”
“Please, I insist. It’s common courtesy.”
Vidcund glanced over at Cassandra, who nodded at him. Vidcund then turned back to Mortimer, then repeated Cassandra’s nod as he removed his black coat.
“Thank you, Mr Go-er, Mortimer.”
“Of course.”
Vidcund handed Mortimer the coat as the three of them went inside of the house. Mortimer hung the coat against the coat rack beside the upright piano, one that he recalled someone gifting Bella as a birthday present. Nobody had bothered to touch it since Bella’s disappearance, though Mortimer would occasionally hear the pressing of keys at night.
“You play the piano, Mortimer?” Vidcund asked.
“Oh, no. That was my wife’s, before she…”
Mortimer paused, then shook his head as he realized Bella’s situation would be far too complicated to explain to an outsider.
“...Died.”
“...Oh. I’m sorry.”
How considerate of him to ask, however.
“My older brother used to play the piano a lot,” Vidcund said, “He was really good at it, too. Unfortunately we couldn’t afford one, so it’s been a while since I’ve heard him play.”
“Perhaps one day,” Mortimer responded cheerfully, “You can invite him to this house, and he can play for us.”
Vidcund’s eyes widened in surprise as he remained quiet, while Mortimer looked up at the staircase.
“The two of us aren’t very close,” he said, “I don’t think he’d want to play anymore.”
“Oh, nonsense! Someone’s got to use that piano, and those aliens aren’t returning Bella anytime soon!”
Mortimer laughed to himself as he briefly heard Vidcund repeat Bella’s name in shock, as though he had some sort of revelation.
“Anyway,” he said, “Cassandra, why don’t you take our guest to the dining room? I’ll go get Alexander from upstairs.”
—
Mortimer, Alexander, Vidcund and Cassandra sat around the family table as Mr. Carr passed around silver platters covered by silver food domes.
“...For our main course, we have lobster thermidor made from the freshest lobster from the most expensive grocery store in town,” Mr. Carr said, taking his time to remove the silver domes from everyone’s plates, “Enjoy.”
Vidcund stared at the food in shock as Mortimer, Cassandra and Alexander began to cheerfully dig in.
“We don’t usually have lobster thermidor, Father,” Cassandra said, “What’s the special occasion for?”
“You bringing home a boyfriend for dinner,” Mortimer said, “Is that not enough of a special occasion? I wanted to make sure that he got the best that he had to offer.”
Mortimer glanced over at Vidcund, who was still staring at the food in shock.
“...Do you not like lobster?”
“No, no,” Vidcund said, “I just…never had lobster before.”
“NEVER?”
Mortimer and Cassandra both shot Alexander a dirty look at the sound of his upset voice.
“How could you never have lobster?” Alexander asked, “Have you ever had a fish? Poor people can afford fish, right?”
“Alexander!” Cassandra hissed, “Not in front of Vidcund!”
“And certainly not in front of any guest,” Mortimer said sternly, “We taught you better than this.”
“I mean…it’s fine…” Vidcund said, “Again, just…taken off guard. I can still eat it.”
Vidcund took a very small and very reluctant bite of the lobster thermidor, before his eyes went wide as he ate a second spoonful.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Mortimer said cheerfully.
Vidcund nodded eagerly, shoving a couple of additional spoonfuls in his mouth before eyeing everyone else and slowing down his pacing.
“Perhaps next time, we can introduce you to more seafood dishes,” Mortimer said, “...What exactly do you eat in Strangetown?”
“Whatever my brother decides,” Vidcund said, “And we have had seafood before. He usually prefers pork and chicken.”
“That sounds awfully controlling of him.”
“No. He does all of the cooking, so it’s only fair that he gets to decide what we make.”
“So you can’t cook?”
Vidcund and Cassandra both froze as they stared at Mortimer in shock, while Alexander gleefully ate up the remains of his lobster thermidor.
“I mean…I know…a little bit…and I can learn. It’s just easier for Lazlo…er…my brother…to do it, because he’s the one who enjoys doing it the most and he’s good at it.”
“So you make him do all of the cooking because you don’t like doing the cooking?” Alexander asked with an innocent tone.
Tension filled the air as Vidcund remained silent, before Cassandra placed a hand on his shoulder.
“He can cook instant noodles,” she said, “And macaroni and cheese. I’m sure it’s something we can figure out together.”
He looks like he’s quivering. Perhaps he’s cold? Most people with heat tolerance tend to be very vulnerable to the cold…
“Right, right, of course,” Mortimer said, nodding. “No worries at all. I’m sure you have other qualities too, yes?”
Vidcund nodded reluctantly as Cassandra gave him a small pat on the shoulder, before the two returned back to their food.
“So tell me, Vidcund,” Mortimer said, “What do you do for work?”
“I’m an astronomer at the Strangetown Laboratory.”
“Ah, the most boring section of the Strangetown laboratory.”
Cassandra scowled at Mortimer as he laughed, while Vidcund made a face that implied that he was slightly more uncomfortable than he already was.
“I apolgoize,” Mortimer said, “I used to be fond of astronomy as well, but…”
That was what led to my wife’s disappearance.
“It reminds me of my wife,” Mortimer said, “...Who is dead.”
“Right, of course,” Vidcund said, nodding, “I do apologize for bringing it up, then. And I also like studying botany on the side.”
“Why don’t you pursue botany as your career instead?”
“The only plants that are native to Strangetown are cacti and weeds. And as much fun as I’d have studying them, I’ve figured out everything that I need to know about them both.”
“Fascinating.”
Bella was quite fond of plants, too. Her favorite plants were the thorns and stems of red roses. She wasn’t that big of a fan of the flowers themselves, but she kept them on because she claimed they reminded her of me.
Ah, Bella. I wonder where you are now…
—
Everyone finished up their lobster thermidors as Mr. Carr presented them with baked alaska, making sure to add the special effect of setting it on fire before placing it down on the table. Vidcund stared at the dessert in shock, his face slightly green as he continued sweating once more, before he quickly got up from his chair.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly uttered.
Vidcund sprinted towards the downstairs bathroom before Mortimer, Cassandra or Alexander could say anything in return.
“...Was there something wrong with the food?” Mr. Carr asked, concerned.
“No, no,” Mortimer said, shaking his head, “Perhaps he has an allergy that we didn’t know of.”
“He doesn’t,” Cassandra said, shaking his head, “And I don’t think allergies would take the form of indigestion, would it?”
“Yeah!” Alexander added, “He looked like he was about to throw up. Maybe he just didn’t like the food.”
“He most certainly did not!” Mortimer said, “And don’t you speak about the food in that way in front of Mr. Carr! You know he worked very hard to cook for us. It’s insensitive.”
“But he’s poor! Poor people aren’t used to fancy food like lobster thermidor, right?”
“Perhaps one of us should go check on him?” Cassandra asked, standing up, “Make sure he’s feeling alright?”
Mortimer nodded, watching as Cassandra stood up to head towards the bathroom door.
—
Vidcund stood shirtless before the sink as he aggressively scrubbed his black shirt with the Goth family’s saffron-flavored soap, before hearing a gentle knock on the door.
“It’s Cassandra! May I come in?”
“The door’s unlocked.”
Cassandra opened the door as she eyed Vidcund in the mirror, a lustful expression flashing across her face as Vidcund looked up to stare at her reflection in return.
“That’s a view that’ll never get old,” Cassandra said playfully, “...Though, Father and Alexander might find it improper if you return to the dinner table without your shirt.”
“I know,” Vidcund said, sighing, “I was able to clean myself up and the toilet, but for some reason it won’t get off the shirt.”
Cassandra entered the bathroom before she closed the door behind her, examining the stain on Vidcund’s shirt and tie as he felt more sweat dripping down his body.
“...I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he said, “Normally I’m not this sweaty. Strangetown’s way hotter weather-wise, you know?”
“I believe it might be due to your nerves.”
Vidcund turned to stare at Cassandra as she eyed the tub inside of the bathroom.
“You did mention that you never had a good relationship with your father before he died,” Cassandra added, “So perhaps, in a cursed way, you’ve become desperate to please mine.”
Vidcund nodded, recalling various nights of him and his brothers reading Mortimer’s various written articles together.
“That’s one way to think of it.”
Cassandra gave Vidcund a concerned look as he turned back towards his tie, adding some additional soap on it before continuing to scrub it under running water.
“...You’re a fan of my father’s work, aren’t you?”
Vidcund froze in place as Cassandra walked over to him, placing her hand on his butt.
“...Yeah.”
“You should’ve just told me,” Cassandra said, giving Vidcund’s butt a squeeze, “I wouldn’t have minded helping you. Between the two of us, I’m a far better speaker than you.”
“You sure are.”
Vidcund and Cassandra shared a laugh as Vidcund turned off the running water.
“...I was afraid to tell you sooner because I was worried that you’d think I was trying to get to him through you,” he said, “I really do enjoy the time we have together, especially the conversations that we have where we take turns infodumping on our respective fields of science.”
“And I appreciate those conversations too. And you know, I never would’ve thought that of you. You’re a very genuine person, and also horrible at lying. I assure you that I would’ve seen through you almost immediately.”
Vidcund and Cassandra laughed again, before Cassandra looked back over at the door.
“I could probably get Mr. Carr to get a new shirt for you,” Cassandra said, “Father has this tendency to buy souvenir shirts and never wear them.”
“Probably our best bet.”
Cassandra opened the door, then screamed as she saw Mortimer waiting on the other side.
“FATHER?”
Vidcund winced as Mortimer gave him a wave through the mirror’s reflection, before pulling out a red and black Hawaiian shirt from behind his back.
“It’s funny you bring up that shirt, because that was the exact shirt I sent Mr. Carr to fetch for you,” Mortimer said, “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.”
“...Sorry.”
“Ah, no worries! Rejoin us at the table when you’re ready.”
Mortimer handed the shirt over to Cassandra before leaving, before she held it out to Vidcund to let him see it for himself.
“...Seems like you’re off to a good start with him.”
Vidcund wiped some of the sweat off of his body with the clean parts of his shirt, before putting the Hawaiian shirt on. He stared at his reflection as he buttoned up the shirt, feeling its silky texture against his skin.
This shirt must be crazy expensive.
“Are you ready for dessert?” Cassandra asked, “Or maybe we can skip it, since…you know…”
“No, it’s alright,” Vidcund said, “I’m ready.”
—
The rest of the night concluded itself with conversations about science over Baked Alaska and several games of chess, before Mortimer and Alexander sat together on the sofa as they overheard Cassandra and Vidcund saying their goodbyes to each other.
“Send me a voicemail once you get back home, okay?” Cassandra said, “I want to make sure you’re home safe.”
“Of course!”
Mortimer noticed Alexander shuddering as the two overheard Vidcund and Cassandra giving each other multiple kisses.
“You should go to sleep, Alexander,” Mortimer said, “You have school tomorrow.”
“Certainly,” Alexander said, standing up, “I just hope I can get those noises out of my head before then.”
Alexander walked towards the stairs as Cassandra re-entered the living room, sitting down besides Mortimer as the two stared at the chessboard in their living room together.
“So…” Cassandra said.
Ah. She wants a response to everything, doesn’t she?
“He was quite frankly the sweatiest and most nervous man that I’ve ever seen,” Mortimer responded.
Cassandra grimaced as Mortimer nodded in approval.
“Just like me when I met your mother’s parents for the first time,” he said, “I’ll start planning the wedding.”
“Father! We’ve only been seeing each other for three months!”
“Just a joke, dear. I’m sure his family would want to get in on the wedding planning as well.”
Cassandra groaned as Mortimer laughed to himself.
“But in all seriousness,” he said, “You have my approval. Now, why don’t we play one more round of chess?”
Cassandra nodded eagerly as the two made their way to the chessboard. Mortimer reorganized the pieces to their starting positions, before gesturing for Cassandra to make a move first.
I wonder if Vidcund could potentially help us locate Bella.
Though, I’m unsure exactly how much help he could be for that…
Either way, what matters most is that Cassandra is happy.
And it seems like, for the first time in a while, she is.