Roasted Chestnut 15; Strawberry 2
Author: Marina
Story: Shifts universe (Shifts)
Challenge: Roasted Chestnut 15 (letter to Santa), Strawberry 2 (curtains)
Toppings/Extras: Sprinkles, Malt (pfah - curtains : Ellen : the nightmare room)
Word Count: 1,126
Rating: PG
Summary: Joy gets a call from Ellen’s teacher.
Notes: Quite a few of my hat prompts point toward gratuitous Ellen torture. Even this turned out darker than I first intended.
In the front office, the receptionists did not pay very much attention to her until she stepped forward and cleared her throat. Then, a lady with gray hair puffed up around the crown of her head and rigid wire-frame glasses glanced up. “May I help you?” she asked, a little icily.
Joy stepped forward, shoving her instincts to retreat down in the furthest corner of her being. “I’m here to see Mrs. Groves about an incident involving my daughter, Ellen,” she said.
“Sign in, please.” The lady gestured to a clipboard supplied with a sign-in form. When Joy had finished carefully printing her name and the reason for her visit, she received a visitor’s badge for her trouble, and graciously thanked the giver on her way out.
Mrs. Groves taught fifth grade in Room 19, which stood in the furthest corner from the front office. Joy found the room easily. She found getting up the courage to walk in the door much more difficult. Rupert would be much better at this, she thought, rather bitterly. Or, better yet, Elie.
She turned the handle, almost expecting to find a brutal war zone beyond the door. Instead, she found the class of twenty-three children at their desks, plowing through math worksheets, and their plump, middle-aged teacher setting up the Smart Board for the next lesson. Joy scanned the room for her daughter, spotting her near the front. Ellen’s face was red, and she brushed agitatedly at her eyes every few seconds, but she seemed fully focused on her work.
Mrs. Groves looked up before Joy could go to her. “Hello,” she said cautiously, taking a step forward. “You must be Mrs. Gardiner.”
“Ms. Kopen,” Joy said automatically, “but yes, I am Ellen’s mother. Good to meet you.” She offered her hand.
Ellen looked up from her work, half-panicked, half-relieved. “Mother?”
“Hi, honey,” said Joy, with a little wave and-she hoped-a reassuring smile.
Mrs. Groves looked a little uncomfortable. Worry lines creased her previously serene features. “Could we talk outside for just a minute?”
“Of course.” Joy flashed another brief smile at her daughter and followed the teacher back out.
“I asked the class to write letters to Santa this morning,” said Mrs. Groves, when the door had safely shut them away from the students. “To post around the room for the holiday party, you know. Ellen did not write one, so I kept her in at lunch. She refused to do it and began to cry when I insisted. I was shocked. Normally she’s so calm and disciplined, but she practically went into hysterics.”
Joy frowned. “Did she say why she wouldn’t do it?”
“Only that she didn’t think there was any point, but she didn’t explain why.”
“I see. Do you think I could talk to her privately?”
She half-expected Mrs. Groves to say no, but the woman agreed immediately. “I’ll send her out, just a second.”
Joy watched the teacher scurry inside and stared at the door anxiously until Ellen quietly slid out to join her. “Are you mad at me?” the little girl asked, eyes settling uncomfortably on a spot between her mother’s shoulder and chin.
“No, I just want you to tell me what happened,” said Joy. She bent down a little and took Ellen’s hand. “Why didn’t you want to write the letter?”
“Because it’s stupid.” Ellen rubbed her eye with the heel of her other hand. “Santa’s not real. If he was, he would’ve come to the compound, but he didn’t. So there’s no point in writing a letter about presents I want to someone who doesn’t even exist. It’s stupid. Christmas is stupid.”
“Christmas isn’t all about Santa, sweetheart,” Joy said, alarmed at the vehemence that had accompanied the last sentence.
Ellen’s eyes began to shine with fresh tears. “I don’t care. I don’t want to write a stupid letter.”
“Okay, okay.” Joy gathered her into a tight hug. “You don’t have to. I’ll make sure Mrs. Groves doesn’t try to make you. Why didn’t you explain that to her? I’m sure she would have understood.”
“Didn’t know how,” Ellen muttered, gripping handfuls of Joy’s sweater tightly in her fists.
Unable to blame her, Joy let her hold on for two silent minutes, then gently withdrew. “Do you want to go home?” she asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Ellen’s ear.
“Yes, please.”
---
When they arrived back at the apartment, after retrieving baby Finn from the Harpers’, Ellen immediately curled up on the couch under the living room window and stared out at the alley beyond without speaking. Joy let her be until she had fed and changed Finn, and set him down for his nap. Then she sat down next to her daughter, drew the little girl’s legs over her lap, and waited.
Ellen said nothing. She rarely asked for anything aside from occasional help with her homework, and hardly ever expressed strong emotions. At first, when the shock of newfound independence had faded and the full responsibility of single parenthood had begun to weigh on her, Joy had considered that a blessing. Watching Ellen’s face made her rethink. The outburst in the school was the first Joy had witnessed in years, and she had no idea what to say or do in the face of her daughter’s obvious emotional turmoil.
After a moment, she took a stab at a lighter subject. “Since I’ve got you here,” she said, “I’d like to do some Christmas shopping while you’re at school tomorrow. Is there anything you really want?”
Ellen narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at the flower-print curtains. She shook her head. “Anything’s good.”
“Okay,” said Joy. “I’ll surprise you.”
“Do we have to have a Christmas party?”
“Well, we’re helping Drew’s mom host it. Don’t you want to?”
She rested her head on the back of the couch. “Not really.”
Joy thought for a minute. “You don’t have to be there, but I think you’ll want to. Oriana and Eleazar will be there, and Lynne and Rand are coming home from college, and there will be a turkey and pie and presents. And everyone would miss you.”
“Pie sounds good,” said Ellen, a little tiredly.
“It does to me, too.”
Ellen finally met her eyes. “Can Drew come over when he gets home?”
“You can call and ask him at three,” Joy said, with a smile.
“And can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”
“I think we still have a box, yes.”
“Okay.” She burrowed further into her seat, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Joy decided that progress was progress, and hoped that she could at least calm her daughter with her presence while she waited for the right words.
Story: Shifts universe (Shifts)
Challenge: Roasted Chestnut 15 (letter to Santa), Strawberry 2 (curtains)
Toppings/Extras: Sprinkles, Malt (pfah - curtains : Ellen : the nightmare room)
Word Count: 1,126
Rating: PG
Summary: Joy gets a call from Ellen’s teacher.
Notes: Quite a few of my hat prompts point toward gratuitous Ellen torture. Even this turned out darker than I first intended.
In the front office, the receptionists did not pay very much attention to her until she stepped forward and cleared her throat. Then, a lady with gray hair puffed up around the crown of her head and rigid wire-frame glasses glanced up. “May I help you?” she asked, a little icily.
Joy stepped forward, shoving her instincts to retreat down in the furthest corner of her being. “I’m here to see Mrs. Groves about an incident involving my daughter, Ellen,” she said.
“Sign in, please.” The lady gestured to a clipboard supplied with a sign-in form. When Joy had finished carefully printing her name and the reason for her visit, she received a visitor’s badge for her trouble, and graciously thanked the giver on her way out.
Mrs. Groves taught fifth grade in Room 19, which stood in the furthest corner from the front office. Joy found the room easily. She found getting up the courage to walk in the door much more difficult. Rupert would be much better at this, she thought, rather bitterly. Or, better yet, Elie.
She turned the handle, almost expecting to find a brutal war zone beyond the door. Instead, she found the class of twenty-three children at their desks, plowing through math worksheets, and their plump, middle-aged teacher setting up the Smart Board for the next lesson. Joy scanned the room for her daughter, spotting her near the front. Ellen’s face was red, and she brushed agitatedly at her eyes every few seconds, but she seemed fully focused on her work.
Mrs. Groves looked up before Joy could go to her. “Hello,” she said cautiously, taking a step forward. “You must be Mrs. Gardiner.”
“Ms. Kopen,” Joy said automatically, “but yes, I am Ellen’s mother. Good to meet you.” She offered her hand.
Ellen looked up from her work, half-panicked, half-relieved. “Mother?”
“Hi, honey,” said Joy, with a little wave and-she hoped-a reassuring smile.
Mrs. Groves looked a little uncomfortable. Worry lines creased her previously serene features. “Could we talk outside for just a minute?”
“Of course.” Joy flashed another brief smile at her daughter and followed the teacher back out.
“I asked the class to write letters to Santa this morning,” said Mrs. Groves, when the door had safely shut them away from the students. “To post around the room for the holiday party, you know. Ellen did not write one, so I kept her in at lunch. She refused to do it and began to cry when I insisted. I was shocked. Normally she’s so calm and disciplined, but she practically went into hysterics.”
Joy frowned. “Did she say why she wouldn’t do it?”
“Only that she didn’t think there was any point, but she didn’t explain why.”
“I see. Do you think I could talk to her privately?”
She half-expected Mrs. Groves to say no, but the woman agreed immediately. “I’ll send her out, just a second.”
Joy watched the teacher scurry inside and stared at the door anxiously until Ellen quietly slid out to join her. “Are you mad at me?” the little girl asked, eyes settling uncomfortably on a spot between her mother’s shoulder and chin.
“No, I just want you to tell me what happened,” said Joy. She bent down a little and took Ellen’s hand. “Why didn’t you want to write the letter?”
“Because it’s stupid.” Ellen rubbed her eye with the heel of her other hand. “Santa’s not real. If he was, he would’ve come to the compound, but he didn’t. So there’s no point in writing a letter about presents I want to someone who doesn’t even exist. It’s stupid. Christmas is stupid.”
“Christmas isn’t all about Santa, sweetheart,” Joy said, alarmed at the vehemence that had accompanied the last sentence.
Ellen’s eyes began to shine with fresh tears. “I don’t care. I don’t want to write a stupid letter.”
“Okay, okay.” Joy gathered her into a tight hug. “You don’t have to. I’ll make sure Mrs. Groves doesn’t try to make you. Why didn’t you explain that to her? I’m sure she would have understood.”
“Didn’t know how,” Ellen muttered, gripping handfuls of Joy’s sweater tightly in her fists.
Unable to blame her, Joy let her hold on for two silent minutes, then gently withdrew. “Do you want to go home?” she asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Ellen’s ear.
“Yes, please.”
---
When they arrived back at the apartment, after retrieving baby Finn from the Harpers’, Ellen immediately curled up on the couch under the living room window and stared out at the alley beyond without speaking. Joy let her be until she had fed and changed Finn, and set him down for his nap. Then she sat down next to her daughter, drew the little girl’s legs over her lap, and waited.
Ellen said nothing. She rarely asked for anything aside from occasional help with her homework, and hardly ever expressed strong emotions. At first, when the shock of newfound independence had faded and the full responsibility of single parenthood had begun to weigh on her, Joy had considered that a blessing. Watching Ellen’s face made her rethink. The outburst in the school was the first Joy had witnessed in years, and she had no idea what to say or do in the face of her daughter’s obvious emotional turmoil.
After a moment, she took a stab at a lighter subject. “Since I’ve got you here,” she said, “I’d like to do some Christmas shopping while you’re at school tomorrow. Is there anything you really want?”
Ellen narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at the flower-print curtains. She shook her head. “Anything’s good.”
“Okay,” said Joy. “I’ll surprise you.”
“Do we have to have a Christmas party?”
“Well, we’re helping Drew’s mom host it. Don’t you want to?”
She rested her head on the back of the couch. “Not really.”
Joy thought for a minute. “You don’t have to be there, but I think you’ll want to. Oriana and Eleazar will be there, and Lynne and Rand are coming home from college, and there will be a turkey and pie and presents. And everyone would miss you.”
“Pie sounds good,” said Ellen, a little tiredly.
“It does to me, too.”
Ellen finally met her eyes. “Can Drew come over when he gets home?”
“You can call and ask him at three,” Joy said, with a smile.
“And can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”
“I think we still have a box, yes.”
“Okay.” She burrowed further into her seat, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Joy decided that progress was progress, and hoped that she could at least calm her daughter with her presence while she waited for the right words.