A Spa-tacular Day In Hell
“Wow, when Ange said ya were an artist, I never imagined it would be this fucking bomb-tastic!”
Stitches giggled as she applied the top coat to Cherri’s nails and carefully guided her hand to the curing light. She had originally planned on only painting a few designs for Charlie and Angel, but when everyone saw the intricacy of her nail art, she soon found herself painting half the hotel’s hands. Not that she really minded, it was nostalgic and relaxing, and most everyone had claws, which was a much larger surface to play with than human nails.
“Alright, Cherri!” Stitches exclaimed, letting the Cyclops admire her finished nails. “What do you think?”
She had given Cherri a fun design, each nail a different explosion pattern. On each ring finger, she had painted little bombs, their fuses slowly burning down towards an explosion. It fit her friend’s personality and had been a lot of fun to create with the shellac.
“Absolutely obsessed, mate!” Cherri shrieked, bouncing off to show Angel, who was giving Husker a massage across the room. Stitches smiled in her direction before putting the little bottles back where they belonged on the shelf behind her. She heard someone approach the desk and turned around to see whose nails she was doing next to see Charlie standing there.
“Haha, hey, Charlie, didn’t I already do your nails?” Stitches looked down to her sister’s nails, which she had made to look like outer space, each nail a different constellation from when she was alive. Charlie had been so excited since they didn’t have stars in Hell, and seeing her awe and excitement as she named each one had been so wonderful.
“Oh, absolutely! I absolutely adore them!” Charlie grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the pedicure station. “But you have spent the last two hours painting everyone’s nails, so now it is your turn to get pampered! Vaggie offered to give you a pedicure, so start there, and then go get a massage from Angel.” Vaggie smiled awkwardly from where she was setting up the pedicure booth. Stitches gave an equally awkward smile. Vaggie had never really spent one-on-one time with her, and so, it was definitely strange to be having her offer to touch her feet. Charlie gave her a reassuring squeeze of her hand, then kissed Vaggie chastely on the cheek before bounding away to a different area.
“So… Uh…” Vaggie scratched the back of her head and waved towards the chair. “Wanna sit and soak your feet? Charlie said you liked apples, so I used one of the apple pie epsom salts.”
Stitches nodded and climbed into the chair, slipping off her spa slippers before plunging them into the whirlpooling water. It was pleasantly warm, and smelled amazing, the Epsom salts immediately helped relieve the muscles in her feet and lower legs. She closed her eyes and sighed happily, leaning back in the chair. “Oh, I forgot how nice this feels!”
Vaggie chuckled and pulled up a stool. “To be honest, I am not too sure how to do this. But Charlie left a cheat sheet, so…”
“Oh, don’t worry, I used to do this stuff for a living. I could walk you through it, if you would like?” She opened her eyes and leaned forward, reaching out for the cheat sheet Vaggie was holding. The angel looked relieved and quickly handed it to her. She read over the list, a very simple treatment plan, much less extensive than the ones that she had performed. “Oh, this is going to be easy! Much less intimidating than it looks. While I soak to soften the skin and cuticles, I’ll help you organize the tray better so it is in the right order for the steps. It will be a lot easier that way.”
It didn’t take long for her to talk Vaggie through each tool and how to use it, The other supplies were simple: a delicious vanilla sugar scrub to remove dead skin, a creamy lotion for massaging, and a small bottle of cuticle remover for the nails. There was also some alcohol wipes to help prepare the nails for painting, and she had chosen a lovely royal purple shade. Vaggie started to relax under her instruction and reassurance as she motioned for Stitches to bring her feet out of the water so she could apply the sugar scrub.
“You’re a really good teacher.” Vaggie was focusing as she rubbed the sugar scrub around her feet, ankles, and up her calves. “I can’t believe how easy you make it to understand. Were you a teacher too?’
Stitches giggled as Vaggie rubbed into the bottoms of her feet, making it tickle ever so slightly. “Oh, no! I mean, I was often asked to train the new people, at all the jobs I had now that I think about it, and I did some tutoring here and there, but I could never be a teacher.” She felt some old feelings of resentment come up to the surface. “It would have made her happy, and I just refuse to do anything to make her feel happy.”
Vaggie paused for a second and looked up at her in confusion, before looking down and continuing. “You, uh, don’t have to, but if you wanted to talk about it, I would listen.”
Stitches sighed. “My adoptive mother, Lou Anne. She was an elementary school teacher, and I always felt pressured by her to follow in her footsteps.”
Vaggie looked up in surprise. “Wasn’t she, like, abusive? How the hell was she allowed to teach children?”
Stitches sighed again. “No one knew, I am sure, and the few that did either agreed with her methods or just didn’t care.” She paused to swallow down the bile threatening to come up. “She was really good at hiding her dark side, and the few times she slipped up, she was able to manipulate the situation back to her favor. Hell, I even believed her gaslighting for most of my life. Took over a decade after moving out to finally deprogram from her bullshit.”
“Deprogram?” Vaggie frowned, gently pushing Stitches’ feet back in the water to rinse them off.
“Yeah, it’s the word my therapist used. Apparently, when combined with religious trauma and familial torture, as well as constant psychological and emotional manipulation, it’s not much different from the conditional programming used by cults. She was trying to mold me into what she wanted, and even though I hated her, if she had asked me to die for her, I wouldn’t have even hesitated. She could have ordered me to do anything, and I would have.”
Vaggie nodded, empathy in her eyes, as she stopped the jets and drained the water, gently lifting her legs so she could dry them for the massage. But she remained silent, letting Stitches control the conversation.
“It took a lot of therapy and time to deprogram. I slowly went more and more distant from her. By the time my spouse and I started trying to have kids, I completely went no contact with her. I couldn’t let someone like that around my kids, I just couldn’t. Not her, and not her husband either. Last I heard, Jacob died of cancer and she was having heart problems.”
Vaggie nodded. “I think that was the right call to make. They sound awful. I am so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t really relate, but sounds a lot like some of the shit I saw happen with the Exorcists.”
Stitches smiled sadly at Vaggie. “You did the right thing, you know.” Vaggie snapped her head up at that. “Protecting that child? I know it cost you everything, but you did what was right. I know you still feel like you don’t deserve a second chance; like you can’t make up for all the shit you did under Adam, but you do belong here, happy. Charlie is just as blessed to have you by her side as you are to be there.”
Vaggie blushed and looked down as she finished massaging her legs. “That’s… thank you.” She looked up at Stitches and smiled at her warmly for the first time. “You deserve a second chance too, you know?”
Stitches smiled, but didn’t answer. It was nice of Vaggie to say, and everyone was so wonderful, helping her. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. She didn’t deserve the kindness and love and warmth. She didn’t deserve a second chance for her sins. She had had many “second chances” and “new beginnings”, and she had squandered it each time.
They switched to lighter topics as Vaggie finished her pedicure, and their new-found camaraderie was so wonderful and comforting. The bond they now shared felt like real friendship, and she was so grateful to have this. But as she continued to receive various treatments throughout the evening, she felt herself drawing further and further inside herself, forcing to put up a mask again. She knew she should reach out to someone, but by the time she felt she could even try, she was already alone in her room, and it was just too much.
I will reach out tomorrow. She promised herself. I will be fine.