It still gets me where I wanna go (Leisure)
Title - It still gets me where I wanna go, part three. (Leisure)
Author - isabelquinn
Word count - 692
Rating - PG
Summary - A reprieve...
Link to table - link
Author's note - Part three, halfway through! Set around chapter 7 of the original book. Thanks to ozqueen for the beta! :)
Previous parts in the series: Other parts in the series:
[ Tradition | Adult | Leisure | Situation | Hurricane | Morning ]
Afternoon coffee with Dee. It's a staple of the week, one that has its routines and familiarities.
Usually, there's no distinct tang of salt in the air. And they don't sit on a breezy porch, gritty layers of sand coating the soles of their feet. Even the coffee cups seem more relaxed here: Natalie's is a soft green color, and it fits perfectly into the curve of her hand.
Life doesn't stop on vacation. Meals still need to be cooked, dishes washed, arguments settled. But all these things have absorbed some of the slow, leisurely pace of summer. Buddy and Suzi are (usually) too busy playing with the Pike kids to antagonize each other, and household jobs seem less frantic when they're not competing with work. Having Stacey around is an enormous help - an extra set of hands to turn off the hot plate or slather the kids with sunscreen is invaluable.
She's been awfully quiet, but she's getting the job done beautifully.
On the other hand: she's getting the job done beautifully, but she's been awfully quiet.
"I hope I'm not taking advantage of Stacey," muses Natalie. "I'm not sure she's having a good time."
Dee frowns. "It's not you. I think there's some boy drama going on."
Dee stirs her coffee vigorously, eyes fixed on their knot of kids playing in the sand. Natalie's gaze combs the beach, running through a mental checklist:
Marnie: Building/destroying sandcastles with Jessi and Vanessa.
Suzi: Burying Mallory's feet in the sand.
Buddy: Playing frisbee with Nicky.
All present. All accounted for.
After a few minutes, she registers the furtive glances that Mallory is shooting up the beach at another, smaller group. Kids building elaborate creations with sand, seaweed, shells and bottle caps. Two teenage boys help them out, dark hair dusted with sand.
Ah.
"So... You ready to raise a teenage daughter?"
"No," groans Dee.
Margo clatters up the porch stairs, tossing a cursory "hi-Mom-hi-Mrs-Barrett" their way.
Natalie sip her coffee, while Dee's spoon clinks erratically against the side of her mug.
"Okay," sighs Dee. "This is what I'm hoping. Tell me if it's stupid."
"Shoot."
"Fact number one: Franklin's coming down on Saturday."
"Right..."
"Fact number two: he's bringing the rest of the baby-sitters club with him."
"Mhm..."
"So... all I need to do is sit tight for three days. Mallory'll be so thrilled to see her friends that she'll completely forget about Casanova over there."
Natalie doesn't answer immediately. It's... a little stupid.
"It's a little short-sighted."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, even if that does happen, it won't change anything. Mallory won't suddenly start growing down."
"Yes she will," groans Dee. "In a month she'll be eight, and trying to make the cat perform in some play she's written."
"Mal's a sensible kid, Dee. More so than a lot of other girls her age."
"She's also desperate to prove she's grown up. And that boy is four years older than her."
Margo crashes through the screen door, a roll of tape around her wrist and a large chunk of cardboard under her arm.
"Can I take that?" she asks, pointing to a large shovel leaning against the wall.
"Honey, it's too big for the beach. Use your pink one."
"I don't wanna dig with it, I want it to hold my sign."
"Oh. Well, okay. Be careful."
"I will, thanks Mom!"
Margo drags the shovel behind her, leaving smooth tracks in the sand.
"Beach Zoo," announces John, ambling onto the porch.
"What?"
"That's what she's up to. She and Claire have decided to charge admission to the rock pools, they're calling it a Beach Zoo."
"Of course they are."
Before long, Claire skips amongst the other kids. Echoes of "Beach Zoo, Beach Zoo, silly-billy-goo-goo!" float towards the porch.
"Care for a walk?" John grins.
"Sure," sighs Dee, brushing loose hair off her face. "Beach Zoos I can deal with."
Natalie leaves the dregs of her coffee. She follows John and Dee down the porch stairs, the straps of her sandals threaded between her fingers.
Its been years since she last felt sand between her toes.
For the most part, it's a lovely feeling.
Author - isabelquinn
Word count - 692
Rating - PG
Summary - A reprieve...
Link to table - link
Author's note - Part three, halfway through! Set around chapter 7 of the original book. Thanks to ozqueen for the beta! :)
Previous parts in the series: Other parts in the series:
[ Tradition | Adult | Leisure | Situation | Hurricane | Morning ]
Afternoon coffee with Dee. It's a staple of the week, one that has its routines and familiarities.
Usually, there's no distinct tang of salt in the air. And they don't sit on a breezy porch, gritty layers of sand coating the soles of their feet. Even the coffee cups seem more relaxed here: Natalie's is a soft green color, and it fits perfectly into the curve of her hand.
Life doesn't stop on vacation. Meals still need to be cooked, dishes washed, arguments settled. But all these things have absorbed some of the slow, leisurely pace of summer. Buddy and Suzi are (usually) too busy playing with the Pike kids to antagonize each other, and household jobs seem less frantic when they're not competing with work. Having Stacey around is an enormous help - an extra set of hands to turn off the hot plate or slather the kids with sunscreen is invaluable.
She's been awfully quiet, but she's getting the job done beautifully.
On the other hand: she's getting the job done beautifully, but she's been awfully quiet.
"I hope I'm not taking advantage of Stacey," muses Natalie. "I'm not sure she's having a good time."
Dee frowns. "It's not you. I think there's some boy drama going on."
Dee stirs her coffee vigorously, eyes fixed on their knot of kids playing in the sand. Natalie's gaze combs the beach, running through a mental checklist:
Marnie: Building/destroying sandcastles with Jessi and Vanessa.
Suzi: Burying Mallory's feet in the sand.
Buddy: Playing frisbee with Nicky.
All present. All accounted for.
After a few minutes, she registers the furtive glances that Mallory is shooting up the beach at another, smaller group. Kids building elaborate creations with sand, seaweed, shells and bottle caps. Two teenage boys help them out, dark hair dusted with sand.
Ah.
"So... You ready to raise a teenage daughter?"
"No," groans Dee.
Margo clatters up the porch stairs, tossing a cursory "hi-Mom-hi-Mrs-Barrett" their way.
Natalie sip her coffee, while Dee's spoon clinks erratically against the side of her mug.
"Okay," sighs Dee. "This is what I'm hoping. Tell me if it's stupid."
"Shoot."
"Fact number one: Franklin's coming down on Saturday."
"Right..."
"Fact number two: he's bringing the rest of the baby-sitters club with him."
"Mhm..."
"So... all I need to do is sit tight for three days. Mallory'll be so thrilled to see her friends that she'll completely forget about Casanova over there."
Natalie doesn't answer immediately. It's... a little stupid.
"It's a little short-sighted."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, even if that does happen, it won't change anything. Mallory won't suddenly start growing down."
"Yes she will," groans Dee. "In a month she'll be eight, and trying to make the cat perform in some play she's written."
"Mal's a sensible kid, Dee. More so than a lot of other girls her age."
"She's also desperate to prove she's grown up. And that boy is four years older than her."
Margo crashes through the screen door, a roll of tape around her wrist and a large chunk of cardboard under her arm.
"Can I take that?" she asks, pointing to a large shovel leaning against the wall.
"Honey, it's too big for the beach. Use your pink one."
"I don't wanna dig with it, I want it to hold my sign."
"Oh. Well, okay. Be careful."
"I will, thanks Mom!"
Margo drags the shovel behind her, leaving smooth tracks in the sand.
"Beach Zoo," announces John, ambling onto the porch.
"What?"
"That's what she's up to. She and Claire have decided to charge admission to the rock pools, they're calling it a Beach Zoo."
"Of course they are."
Before long, Claire skips amongst the other kids. Echoes of "Beach Zoo, Beach Zoo, silly-billy-goo-goo!" float towards the porch.
"Care for a walk?" John grins.
"Sure," sighs Dee, brushing loose hair off her face. "Beach Zoos I can deal with."
Natalie leaves the dregs of her coffee. She follows John and Dee down the porch stairs, the straps of her sandals threaded between her fingers.
Its been years since she last felt sand between her toes.
For the most part, it's a lovely feeling.