Chapter 3: Joanne
Summary: Simon, Grace, and One-One look over the mysterious notebook.
“So…how was the memorial service?” Simon asked as he heard his door open and boots stomping inside.
“I saw Min-Gi there. I tried telling him about the notebook but I guess he didn’t believe me. He stormed off before I could say anything else!” He heard his bed creak slightly, then Grace’s frustrated groan.
“Hey, maybe we can try again tomorrow. For now, you’re just in time for dinner.”
“Oh, are we at a dinner party, Miss Grace?”
Simon whirled around in his chair and found One-One crawling out of Grace’s bag and skittering around all over his bed while she lay on her back..
“Don’t…. Don’t do that, please.” he sounded exasperated.
Simon finished writing a note down in his textbook and got up to head downstairs. He stopped in front of a large entrance and sighed heavily before opening the double doors. He felt himself involuntarily release the tension in his shoulders when he saw the older brunette woman was the only one in the room, standing over a boiling pot. She turned around and smiled at him.
“Is your friend here for dinner again?” she asked, fixing two plates for him. Simon nodded and took both plates. He momentarily considered asking for a third plate for One-One, but wondered if he could even eat to begin with.
“Thanks, Susan,” he said. He headed back upstairs.
Grace leaned back on Simon’s chair, twirling a pen in her fingers as she looked through the notebook.
“So… anything interesting?” Simon asked, placing a plate by her side.
“Seems this train’s numbers have some sort of a system. Everyone gets a different number, and you don’t get to choose what number you get. Sometimes your number goes up, sometimes it goes down.”
“What happens if your number gets too high or low?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. Grace shrugs. The two of them glanced at One-One, who was making a nest out of the blankets on Simon’s bed.
“Well, your number’s supposed to help you figure out your journey.” he said cryptically. “You’ve got to work through your problems before you can leave the train. I’d say your number going down is a good thing!”
“Well, whoever had this book last had a really high one. Their number went up to their neck!” Grace pointed out.
“Damn. Did they start off with that number?”
“No. It grew over time until..this.” Simon tried to imagine how horribly a person could do to amass a number that high. He shuddered, ruminating on the implications. Grace pushed her notes towards Simon as she started to eat her dinner.
“The train seems to come for people who have problems they can’t deal with on their own.”
“My parents would’ve put me on that train if they knew about it,” Grace snorted. Simon decided not to entertain her comment.
“The author of this book doesn’t specifically state why they were on the train. Just how they took over and have been running things ever since.” Simon said.
“Maybe they’re a control freak and the train made them worse instead of better,” Grace suggested. “One-One, do you know anything about this woman?”
One-One poured over the images in the notebook. What Simon assumed were his eyes were narrowed in frustration.
“I… uh…I d–”
There was a sharp knock at the door, causing Simon to scowl and Grace to frown.He remained silent. The door swung open, and a middle aged woman in a sparkly blue dress strolled in. Her eyes narrowed at the site of Grace sitting on Simon’s bed with a plate in her lap.
“Get. Out.” Simon gritted his teeth, moving his chair in front of Grace to block her from the woman’s view. The woman rolled her eyes, making her way to his desk where his civil war display lay unfinished. She picked up one tiny cannon, causing Simon to shoot up from where he was sitting.
“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys, Simon?’ She chided. “A young man your age needs to get a real hobby. Or a job.”
“I told you to stop coming in here and moving my things around, Joanne. I hate it when you do that!”
Joanne scowled and tossed the cannon back onto the desk, sending several soldier pieces sprawling.
“I’m just saying. You spend entirely too much time cooped up in your room doing God knows what, especially with that girl around nearly everyday.”
“Grace knows me better than you ever will,” Simon snapped. “. And besides, what I do is none of your business. Now just get out of my room, Joanne.”
“Now you’re going to learn to stop calling me by my first name and start calling me your mother,” Joanne huffed, flashing her engagement ring.
“You’ll never be any parent of mine,” Simon sneered in her face. Joanne looked past him, to the open notebook in front of Grace on the bed with One-One on top of it.
“Hey, that’s--”
Joanne picked up One-One, peering at him suspiciously.
“Are you my mother?” He asked. Joanne yelped, causing One-One to slip out of her hands. He landed on the bed, seemingly unharmed. Grace reached out and snatched the notebook away before Joanne could take it.
“What the hell is that?” Joanne hissed, backing away.
“It’s… my robot,” Simon lied. “It’s the live aspect of my diorama which I told you to stop touching!”
Joanne looked between One-One, Grace, and Simon in disbelief.
“He’s not a child! You don’t get to mess with his stuff just because you’re mad!” Grace said. Joanne stared her down, and it took everything in Simon not to stand up and push the older woman out of his room.
“I’ll be talking to your mother tonight about your behavior later. You’ll probably be seeing less of that Grace girl from now on. See you later, son,” she said. With an eye roll she walked out of his room and slammed the door. Simon let out an exasperated sigh, flopping on his bed.
“So… now what?” Grace asked, lying next to him.
“It’s getting kind of late, you should be getting home. Want me to walk you there?” he asked. Grace smiled and got up to dust herself off.
Simon led her out of the door as they made their way to her home a few blocks away. His phone vibrated and chirped briefly. When he checked, a text from his mother popped up on the screen.
“We need to talk when you get home,” she said. Simon rolled his eyes and put his phone in his pocket. He noticed Grace was oddly silent.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, nudging her.
“Just… thinking,” she said, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger. He chuckled and gently moved her hand away. They stopped at her doorstep. “Well, this is me.”
“Wait, are we still talking to Min-Gi tomorrow?” he asked.
“Friend told me he was at the diner today. Maybe he’ll be there again… If not we can just stop by his house. And hopefully I can get him to listen to me.”
“Sounds good. Well, uh… Goodnight.” She wrapped her arms around him tight, and he hugged her back gently.
“Don’t let your mom or Joanne bite your head off tonight, Socks and Sandals,” she teased, ruffling his hair. He groaned as she laughed.
“It was ONE time,” he huffed. “My mom made me wear those.”
“Enough for me. Good night, Simon.” With a quick shoulder squeeze, she disappeared through the double doors of her home. Simon pushed his hair back and walked home alone. He stopped in front of his house and pressed his back to the wall, eyes closed. He checked his phone and sure enough, the text from his mother was still there.
“Simon, have a seat on the couch,” his mom said, suddenly appearing in the doorway in her nightgown. With a heavy sigh he walked inside of the house and followed his mom to her study. He dropped his jacket behind him and flopped onto the couch. His mom waved away any lingering attendants from the area. Once it was just her and Simon around, she sat in the chair in front of him stiffly.
“If this is about Joanne-”
“It is. Simon, I haven’t been married in 13 years. Now I’m engaged. I’ve never been so happy in my life. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
She poured herself a glass of apple cider, but left the glass in her hands instead of drinking it.
“It’s not that… I just don’t think you’ll find that happiness in Joanne.”
“She’s gorgeous, an amazing photographer, and we’ve traveled and grown so much together these past few years. She makes me feel…alive again-”
“Well, she makes me wish I were dead.”
“Simon!” She’d become agitated enough to loosen her hold on the glass but quickly tightened it. A few drops of cider escaped from her glass, leaving a small puddle on the floor. She paid no mind to the mess.
“She’s super weird to me, expects me to call her mom or whatever, she’s rude to my friends, and she always comes into MY room to mess with MY stuff.”
“You are entirely too old to be acting like this. It's like I don;t even know you anymore.”
“I’m your son!”
“Yes. My 19-year-old, nearly 20-year-old son. It’s time things change around here…”
“Things have been changing,” Simon snapped, edge sneaking into his voice. He stood up. “They’re always changing and I can’t do a damn thing about it! All the time you bring home new men and women thinking they’ll be ‘the one’, but they’ll never come close. Especially not Joanne. I hate her.”
“Simon!” He jumped at the sound of shattering glass. His mom scowled at the glass shards in her hand and the spilled cider on the floor. She got up wordlessly to clean up the mess.
“I didn’t mean… I’ll help you clean this mess,” he said awkwardly, getting up from the couch to pick up the shards. She shooed his hands away from the glass.
“I don’t know what else you want from me. We both know I can’t bring back your father no matter how much I’d want to. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to move on. You too.”
“Settling for shitty people is NOT moving on.Those people weren't good for you.”
“And who the hell are you to decide that?” she hissed. “Who the hell are-”
“I’m someone who cares about you, and we’re the only thing this family has left. People like Joanne come here and ruin what we have. If you would just listen to me-”
“Simon just… stop, ok? I wanted to talk to you tonight so you and Joanne could work things out before I get married but it seems that’s not happening any time soon.”
She picked up the rest of the glass shards and put them in a garbage bag.
“You know I miss when we could talk without things turning into a yelling match or something getting broken,” Simon said quietly, sitting on the armrest of the chair.
“And I wish I had a son who’d stop meddling in my love life. Now go… Please, Simon.”
He sighed and headed back upstairs. He paused by his mom’s room, seeing Joanne’s suitcase on one side of the bed. He huffed and kept it moving. Simon opened the door to his own room and nearly fell on his ass when he turned on the lights.
“I told you to stop fucking with my things,” he snapped, lurching forward and snatching his army set pieces from her hands.
“Your mother told me you didn’t need them anymore,” Joanne said.
“You’re lying! I’d never get rid of it! Now get the hell out of my room!”
Joanne suddenly yelped, and One-One came skittering between her legs and over her feet. feet. Grace must have left him behind accidentally. He took out his phone, and sure enough, there was a text from Grace asking him to bring One-One over once they met. Joanne scooped the little robot up before Simon could do anything.
“For god's sake Simon. Can we have one day without you picking a fight with Joanne?” his mom groaned, appearing in the frame of his door with another glass of cider.
“I was just doing as you asked,” Joanne said with a shrug, moving to her side. “I had no idea he was attached to these old things.”
“Simon, I have barely seen you touch that set in years, why do you care now?”
“I just don’t want anyone messing with it, alright? Am I not allowed to have one thing around me remain the same?” His mother rolled her eyes and took Joanne by the arm.
“Final warning, Simon.”
“Frankly, I think he’s had enough warnings,” Joanne piped up. “He needs to be taught a lesson that’ll stick.”
Simon tried to take One-One back from Joanne, but she moved him out of Simon’s reach.
“That’s my robot! I swear, if anything happens to it-”
“My family is hosting a party tomorrow evening. It’s my goddaughter’s 16th birthday, so it’s a big deal. Your mother Lisa here’s been such a good help,” Joanne continued, pressing a kiss to Lisa’s cheek.
“A party? Am I invited?” One-One asked, but Joanne ignored him. Lisa gave One-One a strange look.
“And what does that have to do with me?” Simon asked, suddenly wary.
“The assistant that was supposed to help me on the day’s event canceled on me, so I’ll need someone to take his place.”
“Ugh, I hate flakers,” One-One said in disapproval.
“Well, good luck with that,” Simon said, closing the door on the two. Joanne jammed her foot through the door before he could shut it completely.
“Simon.” The warning tone in his mother’s voice made him stop cold.
“Anyways. If you can help me ensure that the event goes off without a hitch, I’ll give you your precious robot back.”
She held One-One up tauntingly in her hand.
“What? No way. Just give me the damn robot back.”
“Only if you help me with this event, and only if things go well.”
“And what happens if it doesn't go well?” His mom cut him a look, and he shut up quickly. The two left, and Simon was alone in his room. He sat back in his chair and texted Grace to tell her what happened to One-One.
“I’m getting that robot back even if I have to pry it from that ice queen’s frostbitten hands.”
“Woah, let’s tone it down a little. Surely there’s some way we can get the book back while Joanne’s distracted. We just need to do it at the right moment.”
“Fine…” he grumbled.
“We can get our revenge on her later once this is all over, promise,” she said.
Simon scowled, but he knew this mystery he and Grace stumbled upon would hit a dead end soon if he didn’t get One-One back. So for now, he’d play along until he figured out how to get the robot back away from Joanne.
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