Pieces of the Memories (Drabble Set 2)
Title: Pieces of the Memories
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Swan Family, Black Family, Clearwater Family
Genre: Humor/Angst/Friendship
Warnings: Occasional language.
banner courtesy of lilabut
Summary:
Renee leaves Charlie and Bella. AU drabble series.
( beginning)
Daycare (Billy)
Billy considers himself forward-thinking. Yes, he married his wife out of high school and she is a stay-at-home mom, but he knows that's a job in and of itself and deserves nothing but the greatest respect. He adores his whip-smart daughters and expects them to go to college and make their ways through life as strong, independent women. He glares at men who make misogynistic jokes. He even watched Terms of Endearment with Sarah and didn't complain once. So he's hardly some sort of nineteen-fifties Neanderthal.
But a man has limits.
"Why," Billy asks dangerously, "does my son have painted toenails?"
Sarah is lying on the couch with her forearm flung over her eyes. The dark-haired baby is asleep on the floor in a padded laundry basket, and his toenails -- along with the majority of each foot -- are bright pink. "The girls," she says with a weary sigh. The girls is the answer to most untoward events in the Black household. "Don't worry, it's just paint. It'll come off."
"That's not the point." His son's toes are pink. That is the point. "I'm going to talk to them."
"Be my guest," Sarah mutters.
Jacob yawns lopsidedly and makes a sleepy smacking noise, unconcerned by this affront to his six-week-old masculinity.
When Billy opens the door to the twins' bedroom his vision is assaulted by an explosion of color. A palette of watercolors sits on the floor and everything is pink or purple or yellow, including the children. They look at him wide-eyed as he crosses his arms.
"Where did this paint come from?"
Rachel, Rebecca, and Leah all point at Bella, who scoots backward rapidly and disappears under the desk. The girl's voice is almost inaudible as she whispers, "Daddy gave me it."
Billy makes a mental note to kill Charlie. "Put that down," he snaps at Rebecca, who is still turning Rachel's eyelids red.
"But--"
"No buts." Rebecca scowls and throws the brush to the floor. She and her sister have 'make-up' all over their faces (though why they wanted blue lips, Billy has no idea) including colored fingers and toes. "Did you paint Jacob's nails while your mother was sleeping?"
Rachel scratches at her cheek. "Had to."
"Bella's all done," Rebecca adds. "And Leah says no."
Leah is on one of the beds, covered in and surrounded by splotches of green. "Imma dragon," she explains. "Dragons don't have painty nails."
Well, at least Sue will be happy. "Don't you ever paint your brother again, girls." Billy directs this at the twins, but he just uses the terms 'brother' and 'sister' in general when it comes to the kids. They may as well be siblings for all the time they spend together.
"But he likes pink!"
"He's too young to like anything except your mom," Billy says, frustrated. "And boys don't wear pink."
Three confused looks. "Why not?"
"Because pink isn't a boy color."
"Why not?"
"Because... it just isn't."
"Why not?"
"Sarah!" Billy calls down the hallway. "Will you explain to them why my son is not going to wear pink?"
A tired but still arch voice comes from the living room: "No, honey, I'd rather hear you explain it."
Billy is going to remember this next time Sarah lectures him about presenting a united parenting front. "Never mind. Just don't do it again. And all of you go get in the tub." He'd prefer to hose them down in the backyard, but it's fifteen degrees outside.
The twins head for the bathroom muttering discontentedly; Leah follows, examining her green arms. There's no movement from under the desk. Billy sighs. "Bella?"
"I-didn'-color-tha-baby-I-promise," a little voice says in a rush.
"You still need to wash up, so come out." Billy has to bite the inside of his cheek when the girl crawls out sheepishly. Every available inch of her body is coated in paint; she looks like she has been bitchslapped by a bad-tempered rainbow. When she tries to slink past him he touches her shoulder says, "Don't let the big girls bully you. When your dad was little he stuck up for himself with me and Mr. Clearwater."
Bella's round eyes get even rounder at his words. "How?"
By being able to punch the hardest, but ten year old boys sort things out differently than three year old girls. Besides, Billy is taking that secret to the grave. "He was assertive when he needed to be. Now go wash up."
The oldest three are clean in half an hour. It takes two weeks for the color to completely come out of Bella's pale skin. The purple tint in the bathtub stays forever.
***
Different Kinds of Milk (Sarah)
Sarah is not surprised that Rachel and Rebecca quickly lose interest in Jacob. They're not allowed to dress him up, or color on him, or see how many goldfish crackers they can fit in his mouth; they think his name is boring; he doesn't talk or walk or do anything except sleep and eat. Overall their brother is a big disappointment and they're back to chasing each other around the front yard as soon as the weather improves. Leah heads outside too, and spends much of her time finding bugs and lecturing them fiercely for having too many legs.
Bella, however, has turned into a little shadow. She stays inside and is always trying to get a peek at the baby. For weeks she's been no more than two feet away from Sarah and Jacob at any moment in time, not from the second Charlie drops her off at eight until she's picked up at five-thirty. And she's one of the few things Jacob pays attention to other than his mobile.
Today she climbs onto the back of the couch and peers over Sarah's shoulder. "What's he doin'?" Bella asks. (Bella talks much more when the other girls aren't around.)
"He's having his lunch," Sarah answers, shifting her arms so that Jacob can latch more tightly. (The twins had been given formula -- she simply hadn't had the time to breastfeed them both -- but she loves getting to nurse her son, even though it's a lot more exhausting than she expected.)
"Why?"
"Because he's hungry."
"Oh." Bella's thumb drifts towards her mouth; Sarah gently catches her by the wrist before she can start sucking. Jacob kicks in protest at Sarah's movement, and Bella's eyes get wide again. "What's he doin' now?"
"He's kicking."
"Why?"
"Because he wants me to stay still so he can eat."
"Oh." Bella rests her chin on Sarah's collarbone; Sarah can't see her face, but she knows that the girl is frowning. Bella always frowns when she thinks. "What's he eatin'?"
"Milk, sweetie. Babies eat milk."
"Cows make milk," Bella pronounces with great authority. She has been watching a lot of Sesame Street.
Sarah smiles. "That's right. But mommies make milk too."
"Oh."
Had Sarah been more rested -- Jacob is always hungry and insists on eating once an hour every night -- she would have seen what Bella would conclude from this information. But she isn't more rested, and so she's taken by surprise when Bella says, "And I had mommy milk?"
Jacob squawks indignantly as Sarah freezes. She scrambles to both reattach him and think of how to answer. "Well, no, Bella. When you were a baby you drank milk from a bottle."
"Not from you?"
Sarah is not prepared for this. "Not from me. Your daddy gave you your milk."
"Daddies make milk?"
"Daddies can make milk in bottles."
"Not mommy milk?"
"No, not mommy milk."
"Oh." Bella curls herself up on the sofa cushion and hides her face against Sarah's spine. "I want mommy milk." Her voice is muffled.
Sarah suddenly realizes that Bella hasn't been shadowing Jacob -- she's been shadowing her. Bella has been trying to get her attention, not the baby's. And because she is full of hormones and loves this girl and hasn't slept more than two hours straight in three months, Sarah starts to cry. "I can get you some milk in a sippy cup," she manages to gasp, swallowing back estrogen-soaked sobs.
"Mommy milk or daddy milk?"
"Cow milk, sweetie."
"Oh." Sarah can feel warm breaths through her shirt, then Bella says, "I like cow milk. And I like sippy cups."
"I know." Hiccuping, Sarah reaches back over her shoulder awkwardly to pat Bella on the head. "Let Jacob finish, then we'll get some cow milk."
"C'n he have cow milk too?"
"No, not yet."
"Why?"
"Because cow milk is for big girls and boys."
"Oh." Bella leans around Sarah's arm and says to the baby (in a very formal voice), "When you're a big boy, you c'n have cow milk too."
Jacob rolls in his mother's arms, looks up at Bella, and blinks a few times. Then he gives her a huge, sloppy grin.
At lunch, Sarah sneaks Bella an extra oatmeal cookie.
***
Firsts
Rachel's first word was Sis.
Rebecca's first word was also Sis.
Leah's first word was No.
Bella's first word was Daddy.
Jacob's first word is Bells.
( next)
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Swan Family, Black Family, Clearwater Family
Genre: Humor/Angst/Friendship
Warnings: Occasional language.
banner courtesy of lilabut
Summary:
Renee leaves Charlie and Bella. AU drabble series.
( beginning)
Daycare (Billy)
Billy considers himself forward-thinking. Yes, he married his wife out of high school and she is a stay-at-home mom, but he knows that's a job in and of itself and deserves nothing but the greatest respect. He adores his whip-smart daughters and expects them to go to college and make their ways through life as strong, independent women. He glares at men who make misogynistic jokes. He even watched Terms of Endearment with Sarah and didn't complain once. So he's hardly some sort of nineteen-fifties Neanderthal.
But a man has limits.
"Why," Billy asks dangerously, "does my son have painted toenails?"
Sarah is lying on the couch with her forearm flung over her eyes. The dark-haired baby is asleep on the floor in a padded laundry basket, and his toenails -- along with the majority of each foot -- are bright pink. "The girls," she says with a weary sigh. The girls is the answer to most untoward events in the Black household. "Don't worry, it's just paint. It'll come off."
"That's not the point." His son's toes are pink. That is the point. "I'm going to talk to them."
"Be my guest," Sarah mutters.
Jacob yawns lopsidedly and makes a sleepy smacking noise, unconcerned by this affront to his six-week-old masculinity.
When Billy opens the door to the twins' bedroom his vision is assaulted by an explosion of color. A palette of watercolors sits on the floor and everything is pink or purple or yellow, including the children. They look at him wide-eyed as he crosses his arms.
"Where did this paint come from?"
Rachel, Rebecca, and Leah all point at Bella, who scoots backward rapidly and disappears under the desk. The girl's voice is almost inaudible as she whispers, "Daddy gave me it."
Billy makes a mental note to kill Charlie. "Put that down," he snaps at Rebecca, who is still turning Rachel's eyelids red.
"But--"
"No buts." Rebecca scowls and throws the brush to the floor. She and her sister have 'make-up' all over their faces (though why they wanted blue lips, Billy has no idea) including colored fingers and toes. "Did you paint Jacob's nails while your mother was sleeping?"
Rachel scratches at her cheek. "Had to."
"Bella's all done," Rebecca adds. "And Leah says no."
Leah is on one of the beds, covered in and surrounded by splotches of green. "Imma dragon," she explains. "Dragons don't have painty nails."
Well, at least Sue will be happy. "Don't you ever paint your brother again, girls." Billy directs this at the twins, but he just uses the terms 'brother' and 'sister' in general when it comes to the kids. They may as well be siblings for all the time they spend together.
"But he likes pink!"
"He's too young to like anything except your mom," Billy says, frustrated. "And boys don't wear pink."
Three confused looks. "Why not?"
"Because pink isn't a boy color."
"Why not?"
"Because... it just isn't."
"Why not?"
"Sarah!" Billy calls down the hallway. "Will you explain to them why my son is not going to wear pink?"
A tired but still arch voice comes from the living room: "No, honey, I'd rather hear you explain it."
Billy is going to remember this next time Sarah lectures him about presenting a united parenting front. "Never mind. Just don't do it again. And all of you go get in the tub." He'd prefer to hose them down in the backyard, but it's fifteen degrees outside.
The twins head for the bathroom muttering discontentedly; Leah follows, examining her green arms. There's no movement from under the desk. Billy sighs. "Bella?"
"I-didn'-color-tha-baby-I-promise," a little voice says in a rush.
"You still need to wash up, so come out." Billy has to bite the inside of his cheek when the girl crawls out sheepishly. Every available inch of her body is coated in paint; she looks like she has been bitchslapped by a bad-tempered rainbow. When she tries to slink past him he touches her shoulder says, "Don't let the big girls bully you. When your dad was little he stuck up for himself with me and Mr. Clearwater."
Bella's round eyes get even rounder at his words. "How?"
By being able to punch the hardest, but ten year old boys sort things out differently than three year old girls. Besides, Billy is taking that secret to the grave. "He was assertive when he needed to be. Now go wash up."
The oldest three are clean in half an hour. It takes two weeks for the color to completely come out of Bella's pale skin. The purple tint in the bathtub stays forever.
***
Different Kinds of Milk (Sarah)
Sarah is not surprised that Rachel and Rebecca quickly lose interest in Jacob. They're not allowed to dress him up, or color on him, or see how many goldfish crackers they can fit in his mouth; they think his name is boring; he doesn't talk or walk or do anything except sleep and eat. Overall their brother is a big disappointment and they're back to chasing each other around the front yard as soon as the weather improves. Leah heads outside too, and spends much of her time finding bugs and lecturing them fiercely for having too many legs.
Bella, however, has turned into a little shadow. She stays inside and is always trying to get a peek at the baby. For weeks she's been no more than two feet away from Sarah and Jacob at any moment in time, not from the second Charlie drops her off at eight until she's picked up at five-thirty. And she's one of the few things Jacob pays attention to other than his mobile.
Today she climbs onto the back of the couch and peers over Sarah's shoulder. "What's he doin'?" Bella asks. (Bella talks much more when the other girls aren't around.)
"He's having his lunch," Sarah answers, shifting her arms so that Jacob can latch more tightly. (The twins had been given formula -- she simply hadn't had the time to breastfeed them both -- but she loves getting to nurse her son, even though it's a lot more exhausting than she expected.)
"Why?"
"Because he's hungry."
"Oh." Bella's thumb drifts towards her mouth; Sarah gently catches her by the wrist before she can start sucking. Jacob kicks in protest at Sarah's movement, and Bella's eyes get wide again. "What's he doin' now?"
"He's kicking."
"Why?"
"Because he wants me to stay still so he can eat."
"Oh." Bella rests her chin on Sarah's collarbone; Sarah can't see her face, but she knows that the girl is frowning. Bella always frowns when she thinks. "What's he eatin'?"
"Milk, sweetie. Babies eat milk."
"Cows make milk," Bella pronounces with great authority. She has been watching a lot of Sesame Street.
Sarah smiles. "That's right. But mommies make milk too."
"Oh."
Had Sarah been more rested -- Jacob is always hungry and insists on eating once an hour every night -- she would have seen what Bella would conclude from this information. But she isn't more rested, and so she's taken by surprise when Bella says, "And I had mommy milk?"
Jacob squawks indignantly as Sarah freezes. She scrambles to both reattach him and think of how to answer. "Well, no, Bella. When you were a baby you drank milk from a bottle."
"Not from you?"
Sarah is not prepared for this. "Not from me. Your daddy gave you your milk."
"Daddies make milk?"
"Daddies can make milk in bottles."
"Not mommy milk?"
"No, not mommy milk."
"Oh." Bella curls herself up on the sofa cushion and hides her face against Sarah's spine. "I want mommy milk." Her voice is muffled.
Sarah suddenly realizes that Bella hasn't been shadowing Jacob -- she's been shadowing her. Bella has been trying to get her attention, not the baby's. And because she is full of hormones and loves this girl and hasn't slept more than two hours straight in three months, Sarah starts to cry. "I can get you some milk in a sippy cup," she manages to gasp, swallowing back estrogen-soaked sobs.
"Mommy milk or daddy milk?"
"Cow milk, sweetie."
"Oh." Sarah can feel warm breaths through her shirt, then Bella says, "I like cow milk. And I like sippy cups."
"I know." Hiccuping, Sarah reaches back over her shoulder awkwardly to pat Bella on the head. "Let Jacob finish, then we'll get some cow milk."
"C'n he have cow milk too?"
"No, not yet."
"Why?"
"Because cow milk is for big girls and boys."
"Oh." Bella leans around Sarah's arm and says to the baby (in a very formal voice), "When you're a big boy, you c'n have cow milk too."
Jacob rolls in his mother's arms, looks up at Bella, and blinks a few times. Then he gives her a huge, sloppy grin.
At lunch, Sarah sneaks Bella an extra oatmeal cookie.
***
Firsts
Rachel's first word was Sis.
Rebecca's first word was also Sis.
Leah's first word was No.
Bella's first word was Daddy.
Jacob's first word is Bells.
( next)