William laughed, “Yes it can work up an appetite.”
“Edina didn’t have a fit when you came in this morning?”
“Well, she didn’t look entirely pleased, but I don’t really care.”
Buffy grinned, “Maybe she feels she holds the key to my chastity belt.”
“Yeah, I broke the lock, thank you very much.”
Buffy snorted, “And you’re ever so proud of that, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight.”
“I don’t know how much fun you’ll have with what I planned today,” she informed him.
“What did you plan?”
“I wanted to start going through the rooms and putting up some paint and carpet samples. I want to really look at those rooms and get an idea of what I want to do with them.”
He shrugged, “I’ll stay.”
She looked at him as if he were crazy. “How can you want to stay and do that?”
“I went shopping with you didn’t I?”
“You’re…what’s the word you say – You’re a nutter, William.”
He chuckled, “Thanks luv.”
“I want to ask Edina to join me – us,” she warned him. “I want her to feel involved.”
“Buffy, while I somewhat I understand your need to make her happy, at the same time, I stand by the fact that this is your house. It was left to you, not Edina.”
“William, this is her home more than it is mine. I don’t want her to feel as though she’s getting shoved out—“
“Buffy, as long as you don’t plan to fire her, she’s not getting shoved out. You’re making changes to a home to make it livable for you. If you should choose to make it a B&B, then it is still your home in which to make that decision, and you told me you’d still keep her on. She has more control of this home right now than you do—“
“She does not, William,” she snapped and stood, snatching her plate from the table and nearly throwing it in the sink.
“Yes, she does! You have not claimed ownership to this place or even attempted to make this place your home. Now that you are starting to, you want to make sure it’s livable for Edina more than yourself, you’re more concerned about how she feels than how you feel and you’re the one that owns it!”
“I didn’t sign the damn papers yet, did I?”
William jumped up, his temper flaring. “Well maybe you bloody should! Maybe you’d stop feeling as though you were just a guest here. Jesus Christ Buffy, where do you feel at home?”
“Why are you getting so upset with me on this?”
“Because you’re being so goddamned stubborn and difficult. You know, when I first met you, I thought that you didn’t care what other people thought of you. I thought you only lived to please and protect yourself. As it turns out, you do care what other people think of you and you go out of your way to please them – and unnecessarily!”
“So anytime I’ve tried to please you, it was unnecessary?”
He pointed at her, “Don’t turn this on me. I did not say that so do not put words in my mouth. . . . However, if you want to go there, then yes, you have tried unnecessarily to please me. You were so skittish about staying with me -- being all polite and not wanting to touch or do anything or get anything because you were so afraid to impose on me.“
“So what? My being polite is now somehow rude?”
“Yes! When I tell you to make yourself at home, I bloody mean it! And Christ, this is your fucking home, Buffy. You do what you want to it and blast Edina for what she wants and thinks.”
“I don’t think of this place as my home!”
“Not yet, you don’t, but you will. You start fixing this place up; you’re going to think of it as your home. You make it into what Edina wants, then no, it won’t be your home – it’ll be hers. Fuck it all if that isn’t what she wants too.”
“I am done with this conversation,” Buffy said angrily and started to leave the kitchen.
William grabbed her, halting her.
“Let me go, William!”
“Just listen to me,” he said, calmer, the timbre of his voice deep.
She looked at him, waiting impatiently.
“You’ve made some steps here to make your staying here a little easier – with the trying to communicate with the ghosts and with wanting to fix the place up. I’m proud of you—“
“I don’t care if you’re proud of me for that William. I don’t do any of that to make you proud.”
He sighed, his jaw clenching. “I know that. I’m just saying that you’re trying, but it’s like you still have one foot out the door by giving undue power to Edina or talking of not being here, and not signing the papers. You make a plan and then you put in some disclaimer somewhere on how you might not be here so it won’t really matter what you do. It does matter and maybe if you started putting your all into it, you wouldn’t have that one foot out the damn door. Your giving Edina power here is giving you an excuse to not stay, Buffy. You giving the ghosts power was an excuse for you to not stay. What is scaring you so much about staying?”
“Just leave it alone, William. Stop telling me what to do, stop telling me how you’re proud of me or upset with me or worried about me. God! Just let me be.”
“I don’t want to leave you be! I want you to stay here and be with me Buffy – why can’t you see that?”
“Just stop it William, please!”
He held up his hand. “Fine. I’m stopping.”
“I think you should go,” she told him softly.
“Buffy—“
“Please.”
He sighed heavily. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. Will you at least call me later after you try again with the ghosts?”
“Yes.”
“Promise me?”
She gave him a warning look and he stopped. “Right. Okay…will I see you tomorrow?”
“Possibly. Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Buffy, please don’t shut me out. Not now.”
“I will see you later, William,” she said firmly.
With a shake of his head, he walked away from her.
As it will be one day I’m sure, she thought. She had to wonder at that point: Was it her making things so difficult so that he would walk away, or was it him pushing her for something she sure she could ever have, that is, a normal relationship?
“So, I’m about to start looking over the rooms and seeing what can be done about them. Do you want to join me?” Buffy asked Edina, catching up to her en route to her bed chamber.
Edina blinked and shook her head slowly. “I think I’ll pass on that.”
“Why? I want to include you—“
“I do not need to be included, Miss. Forgive me, but I do not wish to be. This is your home, not mine.”
“Edina, you live here too—“
“It is unbefitting of the maid to make such decision. That is up to the Master and Mistress of the home. You, mi’lady, are the Mistress.” She bustled away from her quickly and Buffy stood there, feeling defeated.
“Who else can I piss off today?” she muttered to herself and went to collect her samples.
Later that night, Buffy wearily collected with her a lamp she snagged from one of the rooms. She’s had a productive day going round the place, gaining visuals in her mind and taking notes on what she envisioned for each of the rooms she’d visited. She set up the samples based on what she had in her mind, and felt a sense of satisfaction with herself. She felt a sense of accomplishment, and she had to admit – she was excited to see her visions come to life. The place really would make a killer Bed and Breakfast, and in the back of her mind, in a few of the rooms, she placed a bed in them. Her ideas were indeed taking flight.
It was with a sense of extreme reluctance that she made her way back down to the ballroom. She was not looking forward to any repeats from the night before. This time, though, she had the lamp with her. She did not want the intense brightness of the ceiling lights in the room, nor did she want the dimness of a singular candle. Some light, like that from a lamp, would give her some sense of security. She also took with her an afghan that had been lying in chair in one of the rooms.
Padding into the ballroom, she flicked the light on and set about setting up her lamp near her chair. Then she flicked it off and sat in her chair.
Sitting, she said, “I’m here, again. I wish to speak with one of you at least. I know that you’re probably upset with me for ignoring you for so long, and perhaps you’re making this difficult on me because of that. Perhaps last nights theatrics were your way of getting back at me, or your way of playing tricks on me. Well, I’d like to do this seriously now, so please, talk to me.”
She was met with deafening silence. She did not speak again for a long time, but rather sat there with her eyes closed, trying to send her feelers out to sense something, anything. And when she finally did, her eyes flew open. Letting out a deep breath, she saw her breath in front her and shivered, pulling the afghan closer about her.
“Hello?” she said softly.
The chair before her moved back slightly.
“Please—“
It moved again.
“Can you just talk—“
And this time the chair flew until it hit the wall and then toppled to the side. That was enough for Buffy, blowing out the candle, she got up and fled the room, feeling a creeping sense of foreboding wash over her and chill her to the bone. It was not until she had fled the room that she felt safe.
“Miss?”
She looked to see Edina coming toward her.
“I heard something again. Everything all right?”
“Yes, I …was done.”
Edina peered into the room. “You left a lamp on.” And she went inside to shut it off. Buffy watched her to do so and when Edina came out she questioned her.
“Did you feel anything?”
Edina blinked, “Like what?”
“Cold?”
The maid gave her a funny look. “No miss. I felt the ballroom.”
Now she was making fun of her. Great.
“Things not go well?” Edina asked.
“No, things went fine,” Buffy said, annoyed.
“All right then. Good night.”
“Night.”
Buffy stood there, staring inside the dark and empty ballroom for a long time, feeling something quite like determination and anger rising up inside her.
They were not going to get the best of her.