E/T Ficlet: Drunk!Livvy
Jan. 1st, 2005 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thegirl20“Your sister’s totally wasted.”
Isabelle Del Monaco-Pillsbury did not expect to hear those words at the party signalling the last day of her school career. Nor did she expect to have to practically pour her fifteen year old sibling into the passenger seat of her car and take her home when it was barely 11 o’clock. But that’s what she’s doing. She’s also ranting.
“I cannot believe you did this. You know they’re gonna kill you, right? Like, actually kill you? Dead. And then they’re gonna kill me. They’ll probably kill me twice,” she says, her eyes trained on the dark road ahead. “The fact that I didn’t even know that you were going to the party won’t come into it. I mean, why were you even there? You’re a freshman. It was a senior party!”
She glances over at her sister to find her slumped down in the seat, her head lolling from side to side. A small snore reaches Belle’s ears and she grinds her teeth and grips the steering wheel tighter.
She knows exactly why her sister was at the party. Because Livvy is just the kind of girl who gets invited to all the parties. She’d have batted her big, blue eyes at one of the football players and secured herself an invitation. Belle sighs. She loves her sister dearly, but sometimes she’d happily strangle her and hide the body under the deck in the back yard.
Right now would be one of those times. She has to think of something to tell their parents. It’s not like Belle’s never had a drink in her life. She has. But she’s smart enough not to do it when she’s going home, and certainly not to get into the state Livvy’s currently in.
She can just picture the look on her parents’ faces. Her mom will be all disappointed and maybe tearful. And her mama...well, Belle’s a little scared to imagine how her mama will react. Part of her wants to think that she’ll be cool with it. She’s heard stories from when her mama was young from Uncle Will and Aunt Kendra. It doesn’t sound like she was an angel herself. But she’s probably going to explode anyway.
She reaches over and shakes Livvy. She needs her to be at least a little bit alert when they get home. She’s certainly not going to be carrying her up the walk.
“C’mon,” Belle cajoles, poking Livvy in the side, alternating her attention between her sister and the road. “Olivia, wake up. Now!”
“Don’wanna,” Livvy slurs, attempting to move away from Belle’s sharp fingers.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Belle says, yanking her sweater to pull her upright. “We’re gonna be home soon and we need to get you into bed without Mom or Mama seeing you like this.”
“S’cool,” Livvy says. “I’ll act sober. I’m a fabta-...fantab-...great actress.”
“If you can act sober tonight, I’ll call Rachel and have her hand over her Tony,” Belle says as she pulls into the driveway.
Belle doesn't really have a lot of options. She's relying on the element of surprise, but she'd really like to know where in the house her parents are. If they're in the living room or in their bedroom, the two most likely places, that's fine. She can get Livvy into bed quickly without either of them seeing. But if one or both of them are in the kitchen, the plan won't work because the hallway is clearly visible through the kitchen door. She could go and spy through the window in the back garden, but that would risk setting off security lighting and arousing more suspicion than necessary. She's just going to have to go for it.
Her choice is made for her as Livvy opens the car door. Belle had been so deep in thought she hadn't noticed her taking off her seatbelt.
"Olivia!" Belle hisses. "Wait. There."
"'Kay," comes the answer.
Livvy's discovered that her legs don't really want to hold her anyway. Belle quickly gets out of the car and moves around to the passenger side. She yanks Livvy to her feet, not terribly gently, and covers her mouth with her hand when she starts to protest.
"Okay, listen, when we get in, we just keep going, right? Straight to your bedroom and into your bed," Belle instructs as they walk slowly to the door, Livvy leaning heavily on her. "If Mom or Mama call out, you do not answer. Is that clear?"
"Clear," Livvy confirms, though Belle's not convinced she's listened to anything that she's said.
They've reached the front door and Belle takes a deep breath before pushing it open.
"Hey parentals," she yells, trying to sound as normal as possible while walking briskly into the hallway. "I'll be out in a minute."
The noises coming from the living room indicate that neither of her parents is likely to appear in the doorway. She distinctly hears her Mama say 'Shit, I thought she wouldn't be in until 1am?' while her Mom seems far more concerned with finding her shirt. She shudders at the thought of what she just interrupted.
They've reached Livvy's room and Belle quickly bundles the compliant teen into bed and pulls the covers over her. Livvy appears to be sleeping already and Belle resists the urge to flick her ear to wake her up so that she's not the only one panicking. She sighs and heads back out into the hallway. She approaches the living room hesitantly, peeking her head around the doorway to make sure that everyone is fully clothed before moving fully into the room.
She's impressed, both of her parents are fully dressed and are sitting watching a movie like that's what they've been doing all evening. Emma is snuggled into Terri's side, a hand resting on her belly. Terri’s head is resting against Emma’s, an arm flung loosely over her shoulders. On closer inspection, Emma's shirt is buttoned wrongly and Terri has a distinctive mark on her neck that hadn't been there when Belle left for the evening. Belle suppresses a smirk. They both look up at her and smile.
"Hey honey," Emma says. "How come you're home? Your curfew isn't for a couple of hours."
Where the story comes from, Belle has no idea, but when it starts coming out of her mouth, she can’t stop it.
“Livvy called me from Becca’s,” she begins, because it sounds plausible. “You know those two, always fighting and making up. Well I guess they didn’t make up tonight because Livvy called me in floods of tears, begging me to come get her.”
Emma’s sitting up, off Terri and it looks like Terri’s about to get to her feet.
“Is she okay? What happened?” Terri asks.
Belle holds up her hands.
“She’s fine,” she assures them. “You know how Livvy is, ever so slightly dramatic about everything. She said she just needs space so she didn’t want to come in and talk about it with you guys. I told her I’d let you know that she wanted to be left alone for the night.”
Terri and Emma look at each other, concern vying with understanding; their younger daughter is prone to overly dramatic reactions from time to time. Finally, Emma shrugs one shoulder.
“If that’s what she wants,” she says, shifting her eyes to Belle. “Maybe I’ll make her favourite breakfast in the morning, to cheer her up.”
“I think she’d like that,” Belle says, with a nod, picturing Livvy forcing down bacon and eggs in a hungover state.
“Are you going back to the party?” Terri asks. “You’ve still got a couple of hours.”
Belle fakes a yawn and stretches.
“Nah, I’m kinda tired,” she says. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
Emma and Terri nod, seemingly pleased with this answer. She’s almost home free. Unfortunately, Olivia chooses that moment to announce her presence.
“Izzy! M’bed’s spinning’!”
The slurred words jar her parents into action and Belle jumps out of the way as they barrel towards the door and into the hallway. She follows cautiously but stops short of the door, hanging back and listening.
“Livvy?” she hears Terri say. “Why do you have your shoes on in bed?”
“Olivia! This whole room reeks of alcohol!” Emma yells.
“S’prolly cuz I’ve been drinkin’ it, Mom.”
Belle rolls her eyes. So much for acting sober.
“You...I...” Emma appears to be at a loss for words.
“Isabelle, get in here!” Terri’s found some though.
Belle sighs and trudges into the room, where Emma is pacing, Terri is standing with her hands on her hips, and Livvy is attempting to sit up, with limited success. Terri turns to face her.
“So, I assume you noticed that your sister was inebriated when you picked her up,” she says, folding her arms over her chest.
Belle sighs.
“I didn’t pick her up, she was at the same party as me,” she explains. “I didn’t know she was gonna be there.”
Terri opens her mouth but a low moan from the direction of the bed halts whatever she was going to say as all three of the rooms standing occupants turn to face Olivia.
“I...don’t feel so good,” the young blonde says, holding her stomach.
“Right, get up!” Terri orders, gripping Olivia by the elbow and propelling her out of the room.
Emma and Belle are a few steps behind and by the time they reach the bathroom, Livvy is already crouched over the toilet, retching. Belle stands by the door, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Emma moves fully into the bathroom, kneeling by Olivia and scraping her hair back from her face. Terri stands and wets a washcloth, handing it to Emma, who uses it to wipe Livvy’s forehead.
Once she’s done vomiting, Livvy sits up and lets Emma clean her. She looks between her parents, her unsteady gaze finally settles on Emma and her face crumples.
“I’m so sorry, Mommy,” Livvy says, tears spilling from her big blue eyes.
Belle watches as Emma visibly melts and she curses her sister’s ability to wrap both of their parents around her little finger. Terri moves to stand next to Belle.
“Oh, I know baby,” Emma says, gathering the sobbing teenager in her arms and rocking her. “But not half as sorry as you’ll be when I wake you up tomorrow at 6am to help me in the yard. And you’re grounded.”
This elicits a whine of protest from her sister and Belle smirks. Terri nudges her.
“Come with me,” she says, quietly, and Belle’s stomach drops.
It’s not often that her Mama yells at her; she’s never been the disciplinarian. But when she’s mad, she can be truly terrifying. She trails Terri into the living room and watches her closely as she goes to stand by the window, looking out into the yard. She turns around. She doesn’t look mad, just sad, and that makes a lump appear in Belle’s throat.
“Look, I’m not an idiot, honey,” Terri begins, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “I was a teenager too, I know what teenagers get up to. Except your mom, apparently, who was some kind of Doris Day throwback when she was your age.”
Belle chuckles a little at this and Terri half smiles. The smile fades quickly.
“Isabelle, I know you’re both gonna do stuff like this. I get it, I really do. And while it worries me sick, I accept that it’s going to happen,” she says. “But I’m not okay with you coming in here and lying to our faces. Not where yours or your sister’s safety is at stake.”
“But she was okay!” Belle protests. “I got her home okay!”
“I know you did,” Terri agrees. “And I’m thankful for that. But what if she’d thrown up while she was sleeping? Or got up and wandered outside? We wouldn’t have known anything was wrong because we’d have been ‘giving her space’. Can you see where I’m coming from here?”
Belle sighs.
“I was gonna watch her,” she says, her voice quiet and contrite. “I was gonna sit up and make sure she was okay.”
Terri shakes her head.
“You’re a good girl,” she says. “And a great sister...far more so than she deserves, sometimes.”
Belle shrugs.
“She’s an okay sister too,” she says, smiling.
Terri walks over and wraps her arms around her daughter, holding her tight.
“No more lying, okay?” she says. “You’re not too big to take over my knee, young lady.”
Belle pulls back and grins.
“Mama, you’ve never taken either of us over your knee. Although, there were a few times when I really wanted you to do it with Livvy,” she says. “And I think I am too big...I’m taller than you.”
Terri’s mouth drops open.
“By an inch, if you’re lucky,” she grumbles.
“S’ok Mama, Livvy’s still shorter than you...for now,” Belle teases.
“I think there’s far too much hilarity going on in here after what happened tonight.”
Terri and Belle both turn to face the door where Emma is standing, arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m really sorry, Mom,” Belle says, extracting herself from Terri’s arms.
“We’ve had a chat,” Terri tells her wife.
“And I assume that, during this ‘chat’, you grounded her,” Emma says, an eyebrow raised at her daughter.
Belle spins to look at Terri.
“Mama...” she begins, but Terri holds up a hand to stop her.
“No, I didn’t” Terri tells Emma, evenly. “We reached an understanding.”
“Well, I’ll rectify that right now,” Emma says, turning to Belle. “You’re grounded.”
“But Mom! It’s the end of the school year! There are parties and...and this is my last summer with my friends before we all go away to college,” Belle says, close to tears. “I haven’t been grounded since I was thirteen and now I get grounded for Olivia getting drunk? It’s not fair!”
“Go to bed, sweetie,” Terri says, keeping her eyes locked with Emma’s. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Belle sighs.
“Great, now you guys are fighting...” Belle mutters as she trudges out of the living room. “This is the best night ever.”
She gets to her bedroom and slams the door. If she’s going to be treated like a kid, she’s sure as hell going to act like one.
Emma watches her daughter go and turns back to face Terri.
“Terri, she lied to our faces,” she says, calmly. “Livvy could have been hurt or...anything could’ve happened.”
“She lied to protect her sister,” Terri reasons. “Whom she brought home safely and was going to stay up all night with in case she needed her.”
Emma’s shaking her head.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says.
“Yes. It does,” Terri counters, stepping closer to Emma. “We raised a good kid, Emma. She’s eighteen now. She’s pretty much an adult. Jesus, by the time I was eighteen I had do-“
Emma puts a finger on Terri’s lips.
“It would be in your best interests not to finish that sentence right now,” Emma says, quietly. “Or maybe ever.”
Terri tilts her head and smiles sadly.
“She’ll be going away to college after the summer and she’s going to have to make her own choices, without us there to judge them or ground her for making the wrong ones.”
Emma’s trying really hard to remain stern, but she’s hugging herself now, rather than crossing her arms. A tear escapes the side of her eye.
“But...she’s our baby,” she chokes out.
Terri pulls her close, resting her cheek against Emma’s hair as she holds her.
“She is, and she always will be,” she agrees, through a thick throat. “But trying to hold onto her like this, by controlling her, is only going to push her away.”
“When did you get so smart?” Emma mumbles into her shoulder.
“Hey! I’ve always been smart,” she grumbles. “I married you, didn’t I?”
Emma lifts her head and looks at Terri closely, studying her almost.
“You did indeed,” she agrees. “And you must’ve been listening to at least some of my psychobabble.”
“Well, you have been babbling it at me for pretty much quarter of a century now. Some of it was bound to have filtered through,” Terri says.
“Quarter of a century...wow,” Emma breathes. “And a kid going off to college. We must be getting old.”
“Speak for yourself!” Terri says, bristling. “You’re only as old as you feel! And I still feel thirty.”
“You still look thirty...ish,” Emma says, rubbing at the laughter lines around Terri’s eyes affectionately.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’ve been everywhere,” Emma muses with a smile. “And back again.”
Terri raises an eyebrow.
“Well, if you’re not opposed to retreading your steps, I suggest that we retire to bed to finish this conversation,” she says, leading Emma out of the living room. “And we should probably check on our deviant child on the way.”
“You can check on the deviant,” Emma says, switching off the light. “I guess I should go and unground Isabelle.”
“Nah,” Terri says. “Let her stew until morning.”
“That’s not very nice,” Emma whispers, peering over Terri’s shoulder as she opens Livvy’s door, content to find that she’s still breathing and that there’s a basin by her bed should she need it.
Terri closes the door and turns back to face Emma.
“True,” she agrees. “But I don’t think you’d like me if I was very nice.”
Emma rolls her eyes.
“Terri, you and I both know that you’re a big softie, especially when it comes to those girls,” she says, gripping the lapels of Terri’s shirt and pulling her in so that their noses are touching. “You’re just a big teddy bear.”
Terri gasps in mock outrage. She starts walking, forcing Emma to walk backwards to their bedroom.
“Teddy bear?” she demands, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I’ll show you teddy bear.”
She pushes Emma down onto the bed and climbs on after her, crawling up her body, nipping at her neck.
“Oh, I didn’t say you made love like a teddy bear, honey,” Emma says, her hands tangling in Terri’s hair.
Terri pauses and lifts her head, looking down into Emma’s eyes in confusion.
“How does a teddy bear make love?” she asks.
Emma thinks for a moment before bursting out laughing.
“I have no idea,” she admits. “So maybe you do make love like a teddy bear.”
Terri wiggles her fingers into Emma’s ribcage, making her clamp her lips together to keep from shrieking. She hates being tickled. Terri raises an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Emma relents. “I’m pretty sure you don’t make love like a teddy bear.”
Terri smiles, satisfied.
“But you are my Terri-bear,” Emma says, pinching Terri’s cheek. “And there’s no getting away from that.”
Terri rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” she agrees. “I’m your Terri-bear.”
“Yup,” Emma says, grinning. “So, are we ever going to finish what we started on the couch?”
Terri grins.
“If you insist.”
Isabelle Del Monaco-Pillsbury did not expect to hear those words at the party signalling the last day of her school career. Nor did she expect to have to practically pour her fifteen year old sibling into the passenger seat of her car and take her home when it was barely 11 o’clock. But that’s what she’s doing. She’s also ranting.
“I cannot believe you did this. You know they’re gonna kill you, right? Like, actually kill you? Dead. And then they’re gonna kill me. They’ll probably kill me twice,” she says, her eyes trained on the dark road ahead. “The fact that I didn’t even know that you were going to the party won’t come into it. I mean, why were you even there? You’re a freshman. It was a senior party!”
She glances over at her sister to find her slumped down in the seat, her head lolling from side to side. A small snore reaches Belle’s ears and she grinds her teeth and grips the steering wheel tighter.
She knows exactly why her sister was at the party. Because Livvy is just the kind of girl who gets invited to all the parties. She’d have batted her big, blue eyes at one of the football players and secured herself an invitation. Belle sighs. She loves her sister dearly, but sometimes she’d happily strangle her and hide the body under the deck in the back yard.
Right now would be one of those times. She has to think of something to tell their parents. It’s not like Belle’s never had a drink in her life. She has. But she’s smart enough not to do it when she’s going home, and certainly not to get into the state Livvy’s currently in.
She can just picture the look on her parents’ faces. Her mom will be all disappointed and maybe tearful. And her mama...well, Belle’s a little scared to imagine how her mama will react. Part of her wants to think that she’ll be cool with it. She’s heard stories from when her mama was young from Uncle Will and Aunt Kendra. It doesn’t sound like she was an angel herself. But she’s probably going to explode anyway.
She reaches over and shakes Livvy. She needs her to be at least a little bit alert when they get home. She’s certainly not going to be carrying her up the walk.
“C’mon,” Belle cajoles, poking Livvy in the side, alternating her attention between her sister and the road. “Olivia, wake up. Now!”
“Don’wanna,” Livvy slurs, attempting to move away from Belle’s sharp fingers.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Belle says, yanking her sweater to pull her upright. “We’re gonna be home soon and we need to get you into bed without Mom or Mama seeing you like this.”
“S’cool,” Livvy says. “I’ll act sober. I’m a fabta-...fantab-...great actress.”
“If you can act sober tonight, I’ll call Rachel and have her hand over her Tony,” Belle says as she pulls into the driveway.
Belle doesn't really have a lot of options. She's relying on the element of surprise, but she'd really like to know where in the house her parents are. If they're in the living room or in their bedroom, the two most likely places, that's fine. She can get Livvy into bed quickly without either of them seeing. But if one or both of them are in the kitchen, the plan won't work because the hallway is clearly visible through the kitchen door. She could go and spy through the window in the back garden, but that would risk setting off security lighting and arousing more suspicion than necessary. She's just going to have to go for it.
Her choice is made for her as Livvy opens the car door. Belle had been so deep in thought she hadn't noticed her taking off her seatbelt.
"Olivia!" Belle hisses. "Wait. There."
"'Kay," comes the answer.
Livvy's discovered that her legs don't really want to hold her anyway. Belle quickly gets out of the car and moves around to the passenger side. She yanks Livvy to her feet, not terribly gently, and covers her mouth with her hand when she starts to protest.
"Okay, listen, when we get in, we just keep going, right? Straight to your bedroom and into your bed," Belle instructs as they walk slowly to the door, Livvy leaning heavily on her. "If Mom or Mama call out, you do not answer. Is that clear?"
"Clear," Livvy confirms, though Belle's not convinced she's listened to anything that she's said.
They've reached the front door and Belle takes a deep breath before pushing it open.
"Hey parentals," she yells, trying to sound as normal as possible while walking briskly into the hallway. "I'll be out in a minute."
The noises coming from the living room indicate that neither of her parents is likely to appear in the doorway. She distinctly hears her Mama say 'Shit, I thought she wouldn't be in until 1am?' while her Mom seems far more concerned with finding her shirt. She shudders at the thought of what she just interrupted.
They've reached Livvy's room and Belle quickly bundles the compliant teen into bed and pulls the covers over her. Livvy appears to be sleeping already and Belle resists the urge to flick her ear to wake her up so that she's not the only one panicking. She sighs and heads back out into the hallway. She approaches the living room hesitantly, peeking her head around the doorway to make sure that everyone is fully clothed before moving fully into the room.
She's impressed, both of her parents are fully dressed and are sitting watching a movie like that's what they've been doing all evening. Emma is snuggled into Terri's side, a hand resting on her belly. Terri’s head is resting against Emma’s, an arm flung loosely over her shoulders. On closer inspection, Emma's shirt is buttoned wrongly and Terri has a distinctive mark on her neck that hadn't been there when Belle left for the evening. Belle suppresses a smirk. They both look up at her and smile.
"Hey honey," Emma says. "How come you're home? Your curfew isn't for a couple of hours."
Where the story comes from, Belle has no idea, but when it starts coming out of her mouth, she can’t stop it.
“Livvy called me from Becca’s,” she begins, because it sounds plausible. “You know those two, always fighting and making up. Well I guess they didn’t make up tonight because Livvy called me in floods of tears, begging me to come get her.”
Emma’s sitting up, off Terri and it looks like Terri’s about to get to her feet.
“Is she okay? What happened?” Terri asks.
Belle holds up her hands.
“She’s fine,” she assures them. “You know how Livvy is, ever so slightly dramatic about everything. She said she just needs space so she didn’t want to come in and talk about it with you guys. I told her I’d let you know that she wanted to be left alone for the night.”
Terri and Emma look at each other, concern vying with understanding; their younger daughter is prone to overly dramatic reactions from time to time. Finally, Emma shrugs one shoulder.
“If that’s what she wants,” she says, shifting her eyes to Belle. “Maybe I’ll make her favourite breakfast in the morning, to cheer her up.”
“I think she’d like that,” Belle says, with a nod, picturing Livvy forcing down bacon and eggs in a hungover state.
“Are you going back to the party?” Terri asks. “You’ve still got a couple of hours.”
Belle fakes a yawn and stretches.
“Nah, I’m kinda tired,” she says. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
Emma and Terri nod, seemingly pleased with this answer. She’s almost home free. Unfortunately, Olivia chooses that moment to announce her presence.
“Izzy! M’bed’s spinning’!”
The slurred words jar her parents into action and Belle jumps out of the way as they barrel towards the door and into the hallway. She follows cautiously but stops short of the door, hanging back and listening.
“Livvy?” she hears Terri say. “Why do you have your shoes on in bed?”
“Olivia! This whole room reeks of alcohol!” Emma yells.
“S’prolly cuz I’ve been drinkin’ it, Mom.”
Belle rolls her eyes. So much for acting sober.
“You...I...” Emma appears to be at a loss for words.
“Isabelle, get in here!” Terri’s found some though.
Belle sighs and trudges into the room, where Emma is pacing, Terri is standing with her hands on her hips, and Livvy is attempting to sit up, with limited success. Terri turns to face her.
“So, I assume you noticed that your sister was inebriated when you picked her up,” she says, folding her arms over her chest.
Belle sighs.
“I didn’t pick her up, she was at the same party as me,” she explains. “I didn’t know she was gonna be there.”
Terri opens her mouth but a low moan from the direction of the bed halts whatever she was going to say as all three of the rooms standing occupants turn to face Olivia.
“I...don’t feel so good,” the young blonde says, holding her stomach.
“Right, get up!” Terri orders, gripping Olivia by the elbow and propelling her out of the room.
Emma and Belle are a few steps behind and by the time they reach the bathroom, Livvy is already crouched over the toilet, retching. Belle stands by the door, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Emma moves fully into the bathroom, kneeling by Olivia and scraping her hair back from her face. Terri stands and wets a washcloth, handing it to Emma, who uses it to wipe Livvy’s forehead.
Once she’s done vomiting, Livvy sits up and lets Emma clean her. She looks between her parents, her unsteady gaze finally settles on Emma and her face crumples.
“I’m so sorry, Mommy,” Livvy says, tears spilling from her big blue eyes.
Belle watches as Emma visibly melts and she curses her sister’s ability to wrap both of their parents around her little finger. Terri moves to stand next to Belle.
“Oh, I know baby,” Emma says, gathering the sobbing teenager in her arms and rocking her. “But not half as sorry as you’ll be when I wake you up tomorrow at 6am to help me in the yard. And you’re grounded.”
This elicits a whine of protest from her sister and Belle smirks. Terri nudges her.
“Come with me,” she says, quietly, and Belle’s stomach drops.
It’s not often that her Mama yells at her; she’s never been the disciplinarian. But when she’s mad, she can be truly terrifying. She trails Terri into the living room and watches her closely as she goes to stand by the window, looking out into the yard. She turns around. She doesn’t look mad, just sad, and that makes a lump appear in Belle’s throat.
“Look, I’m not an idiot, honey,” Terri begins, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “I was a teenager too, I know what teenagers get up to. Except your mom, apparently, who was some kind of Doris Day throwback when she was your age.”
Belle chuckles a little at this and Terri half smiles. The smile fades quickly.
“Isabelle, I know you’re both gonna do stuff like this. I get it, I really do. And while it worries me sick, I accept that it’s going to happen,” she says. “But I’m not okay with you coming in here and lying to our faces. Not where yours or your sister’s safety is at stake.”
“But she was okay!” Belle protests. “I got her home okay!”
“I know you did,” Terri agrees. “And I’m thankful for that. But what if she’d thrown up while she was sleeping? Or got up and wandered outside? We wouldn’t have known anything was wrong because we’d have been ‘giving her space’. Can you see where I’m coming from here?”
Belle sighs.
“I was gonna watch her,” she says, her voice quiet and contrite. “I was gonna sit up and make sure she was okay.”
Terri shakes her head.
“You’re a good girl,” she says. “And a great sister...far more so than she deserves, sometimes.”
Belle shrugs.
“She’s an okay sister too,” she says, smiling.
Terri walks over and wraps her arms around her daughter, holding her tight.
“No more lying, okay?” she says. “You’re not too big to take over my knee, young lady.”
Belle pulls back and grins.
“Mama, you’ve never taken either of us over your knee. Although, there were a few times when I really wanted you to do it with Livvy,” she says. “And I think I am too big...I’m taller than you.”
Terri’s mouth drops open.
“By an inch, if you’re lucky,” she grumbles.
“S’ok Mama, Livvy’s still shorter than you...for now,” Belle teases.
“I think there’s far too much hilarity going on in here after what happened tonight.”
Terri and Belle both turn to face the door where Emma is standing, arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m really sorry, Mom,” Belle says, extracting herself from Terri’s arms.
“We’ve had a chat,” Terri tells her wife.
“And I assume that, during this ‘chat’, you grounded her,” Emma says, an eyebrow raised at her daughter.
Belle spins to look at Terri.
“Mama...” she begins, but Terri holds up a hand to stop her.
“No, I didn’t” Terri tells Emma, evenly. “We reached an understanding.”
“Well, I’ll rectify that right now,” Emma says, turning to Belle. “You’re grounded.”
“But Mom! It’s the end of the school year! There are parties and...and this is my last summer with my friends before we all go away to college,” Belle says, close to tears. “I haven’t been grounded since I was thirteen and now I get grounded for Olivia getting drunk? It’s not fair!”
“Go to bed, sweetie,” Terri says, keeping her eyes locked with Emma’s. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Belle sighs.
“Great, now you guys are fighting...” Belle mutters as she trudges out of the living room. “This is the best night ever.”
She gets to her bedroom and slams the door. If she’s going to be treated like a kid, she’s sure as hell going to act like one.
Emma watches her daughter go and turns back to face Terri.
“Terri, she lied to our faces,” she says, calmly. “Livvy could have been hurt or...anything could’ve happened.”
“She lied to protect her sister,” Terri reasons. “Whom she brought home safely and was going to stay up all night with in case she needed her.”
Emma’s shaking her head.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says.
“Yes. It does,” Terri counters, stepping closer to Emma. “We raised a good kid, Emma. She’s eighteen now. She’s pretty much an adult. Jesus, by the time I was eighteen I had do-“
Emma puts a finger on Terri’s lips.
“It would be in your best interests not to finish that sentence right now,” Emma says, quietly. “Or maybe ever.”
Terri tilts her head and smiles sadly.
“She’ll be going away to college after the summer and she’s going to have to make her own choices, without us there to judge them or ground her for making the wrong ones.”
Emma’s trying really hard to remain stern, but she’s hugging herself now, rather than crossing her arms. A tear escapes the side of her eye.
“But...she’s our baby,” she chokes out.
Terri pulls her close, resting her cheek against Emma’s hair as she holds her.
“She is, and she always will be,” she agrees, through a thick throat. “But trying to hold onto her like this, by controlling her, is only going to push her away.”
“When did you get so smart?” Emma mumbles into her shoulder.
“Hey! I’ve always been smart,” she grumbles. “I married you, didn’t I?”
Emma lifts her head and looks at Terri closely, studying her almost.
“You did indeed,” she agrees. “And you must’ve been listening to at least some of my psychobabble.”
“Well, you have been babbling it at me for pretty much quarter of a century now. Some of it was bound to have filtered through,” Terri says.
“Quarter of a century...wow,” Emma breathes. “And a kid going off to college. We must be getting old.”
“Speak for yourself!” Terri says, bristling. “You’re only as old as you feel! And I still feel thirty.”
“You still look thirty...ish,” Emma says, rubbing at the laughter lines around Terri’s eyes affectionately.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’ve been everywhere,” Emma muses with a smile. “And back again.”
Terri raises an eyebrow.
“Well, if you’re not opposed to retreading your steps, I suggest that we retire to bed to finish this conversation,” she says, leading Emma out of the living room. “And we should probably check on our deviant child on the way.”
“You can check on the deviant,” Emma says, switching off the light. “I guess I should go and unground Isabelle.”
“Nah,” Terri says. “Let her stew until morning.”
“That’s not very nice,” Emma whispers, peering over Terri’s shoulder as she opens Livvy’s door, content to find that she’s still breathing and that there’s a basin by her bed should she need it.
Terri closes the door and turns back to face Emma.
“True,” she agrees. “But I don’t think you’d like me if I was very nice.”
Emma rolls her eyes.
“Terri, you and I both know that you’re a big softie, especially when it comes to those girls,” she says, gripping the lapels of Terri’s shirt and pulling her in so that their noses are touching. “You’re just a big teddy bear.”
Terri gasps in mock outrage. She starts walking, forcing Emma to walk backwards to their bedroom.
“Teddy bear?” she demands, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I’ll show you teddy bear.”
She pushes Emma down onto the bed and climbs on after her, crawling up her body, nipping at her neck.
“Oh, I didn’t say you made love like a teddy bear, honey,” Emma says, her hands tangling in Terri’s hair.
Terri pauses and lifts her head, looking down into Emma’s eyes in confusion.
“How does a teddy bear make love?” she asks.
Emma thinks for a moment before bursting out laughing.
“I have no idea,” she admits. “So maybe you do make love like a teddy bear.”
Terri wiggles her fingers into Emma’s ribcage, making her clamp her lips together to keep from shrieking. She hates being tickled. Terri raises an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Emma relents. “I’m pretty sure you don’t make love like a teddy bear.”
Terri smiles, satisfied.
“But you are my Terri-bear,” Emma says, pinching Terri’s cheek. “And there’s no getting away from that.”
Terri rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” she agrees. “I’m your Terri-bear.”
“Yup,” Emma says, grinning. “So, are we ever going to finish what we started on the couch?”
Terri grins.
“If you insist.”