~ what I hold inside
'finally found the answer to my story'
prompt; addiction
word count; 5731
When Julio comes back from a trip to New York, pale and shaken and worried, Ophelia takes the children for the afternoon to let Mark and Julio talk without interruption. Later, with children worn out and tired, hugging their fathers' tightly before heading to their beds, Ophelia stands in the sitting room, anxious and worried, feeling the air heavy around them. Mark sits on the couch, Julio pacing behind it, and Ophelia has to leave the feelings hanging around them all for fear of breaking something between them.
"I'm going to," Mark looks up, looks at Julio and Phe follows the gaze, waiting for Julio to find his words. "I have a problem, I- I'm going to need those lists you made up, Phe, baby. The one for the meetings?" She knows exactly what he means, and she smiles softly, crossing the room towards him.
Her hands slide up his shoulders, pulling him in to hug close to her and kiss his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Shaker." Smoothing his hair back, she lets him feel her love and her pride and her belief in him. Stretching over the couch, her hand strokes Mark's cheek and she places a small kiss to his temple before she takes her leave, intent on compiling a more suitable list for Julio now that he's come to his decision.
Julio takes to sobriety slowly but surely. They all make small changes to assist. Lucia understands it best, she knows that there's something Papa has to do, but she's worried that it's something horrible, that she'll lose him. Phe tries to explain it the best she can, instead she ends up inviting a group of Julio's fellow AA attendees back to the house.
The Start;
Phe feels him the moment he crosses into the driveway, but she's slightly busy, so she doesn't meet him at the door with a hug and a grin. Julio walks into the house with long, heavy sigh, stopping short when he reaches the living room.
"I never understood it then, I never saw how it was linked. I guess, my father, it always just seemed normal." Clarice is a lovely woman, she's dainty and sweet, Ophelia likes her. She's a little bit bookish, and has some rather deep seated troubles from her past, she's so overly cautious and worried all the time. Ophelia adores giving the woman heart shaped cookies just to see that smile she has.
"Does he realise it? His impact on how you've grown? You know it's his vice and not your own." Around the living room, several heads nod.
"Phe, sweetie, what's going on?"
"Julio!" She naturally knew when he'd arrived, but these days she finds herself focusing so much more on the wider things, her powers never narrowing to just Julio and Mark any more. "Tea?" She's got a tea set out, four of her tea seats, actually. She had too many people and not enough to match, so she just mixed it up. Julio takes the tea cup from her, smiling a little awkwardly at the people around their living room. "You know the group, pick a seat?"
He does, and Phe pats his head lovingly, taking her seat again and grinning towards Clarice, waiting for the girl to continue.
Later, after the group have filed out, giving Ophelia their thanks, Julio asks her again. "What was that, Phe? Why bring them here?"
"Lucia was worried, you know how she can be. Had to show her it's all fine, had to let her see." For Ophelia, that meant letting Lucia see that these were all just people, perfectly ordinary people struggling with perfectly ordinary things. Brushing away invisible dust from Julio's shoulders, she smiled at him, "Don't fret it much, she only met them at the door. Martini, our dearest, took the kids to the store."
But what was meant to comfort Lucia, turned into something so much more for Ophelia. She doesn't see it like other people do, but in the future, they'll all look to this as the turning point. Really, it's just Ophelia getting too involved as always.
Step One;
Acceptance; we admitted that we were powerless over alcohol.
She becomes a Sponsor with little coaxing. Clarice, naturally, is Ophelia's first case as a Sponsor.
"I brought it for you, as a gift. But it's also an exercise, one that'll give you a lift." What it is, plainly, is a plant in a pot. It's a small green shrub, long spiked leaves with red tips. She put it in the plainest pot she could find, and it aches for her to see it like that.
"Um, thank you?" Clarice seems to think there's something attached to it, so Ophelia has to elaborate on the point of it.
"It needs you to care, it needs your love." Her fingers stroke the long leaves carefully, lovingly. "It's delicate and needy, like a child but less greedy." Clarice stares at it, as if something is dawning on her. "You'll care for it and tend it, keep it fed."
"It needs me." Ophelia nods her head, smiling nicely.
"First thing it needs is a pretty home, that pot's too plain, it'll feel like a drone. Paint or ink, it's fine with me, but let’s get you something colourful and bright to see." And thus starts the first of Ophelia's steps. Power over something so fragile, devotion to something so beautiful, a focus and a distraction.
It's easier than loaning out her children for a day.
Step Two;
Belief; a power greater than ourselves can return us to sanity.
Geoff is a troubling case, Geoff has a hollowness inside him. His plant lives in a green pot, carefully painted all the one colour; careful, considerate, controlled. Ophelia doesn't draw the emotions out of him like she could, instead, she does it with a calm sort of control that she really wasn't aware she had.
"Have you ever been addicted, Ophelia?" She nods once, giving him her full attention, even as a couple fight over the street. Geoff stares into his coffee cup; black, no sugar, scalding hot but drank cold. "It's strange, I feel like I'm the only one. Like I'm being punished for something."
"It's not punishment, just a trial." Ophelia has never been overly religious. She knows the words, she knows the Saints, she knows the belief system. She lives her life as openly and lovingly as she knows how in her state, she believes that's the point. "You're still here, you still have hope."
"Does He still love me?"
"Everyone is loved." There's a spark of something in him, it's tiny, but she smiles softly at the hint of it. "You'll see it in time, like a canvas carefully filled."
"You like art, don't you?" Her smile is so much broader.
"Colours and shapes, filling the gaps with something so full of meaning. It's about finding something that sparks up that feeling." He takes the moment to think, stirring a spoon around his coffee and she waits, patiently.
"I like animals, they interest me." Ophelia gets this glint in her eye, one that might scare a more observant person, but Geoff is still getting out of that stage where his motor functions are slow.
"Zoo." They spend the day examining all the animals, asking questions and feeding the tamer ones when Ophelia presses the owners for permission. By the end of the day, she can feel Geoff's slow rising hope and that careful belief mending itself.
Step Three;
Understanding; decision to turn our will and our lives over to God because we understood Him.
Ophelia is not Julio's Sponsor -Julio's Sponsor is a lovely Mexican man named Miguel, he's been sober for nineteen years following the death of his wife, he's a very bright man and a very loving father. However he does loan out Julio to Ophelia one afternoon when a majority of her Sponorees are at step three. Even those beyond it want to participate.
"What're we doing?"
Because Ophelia is not religious, she's made a slight amendment to her practice for the third step, she's taken the time to consider her options and keep it as close to the program as possible. "It's just a little different, it's all still in keeping."
They attend a large open space, green and new and full of life, she can still feel how fresh it all is. "Phe, baby," Julio is a little apprehensive, it's how he usually gets around some of the others, he's further along than this, but she knows it'll be good for him, "what're we doing?"
"Giving new life." There are saplings laid out, wrapped in their cloth diapers, fresh out of the nursery. "This is His world and it's what we wish to keep, so it's important to give and refresh and renew." There's an excitement through the group that makes Ophelia's blood tingle. "There's one for everyone and it goes in the ground, the Earth we've been given, this life we've all found." It's part of a plan, something to signify their faith in the God that Ophelia doesn't actually believe in. She believes in Nature though, and She is just as powerful as He is and thus, they're giving back to the world they've been blessed with.
It's a massive operation. Seventy trees are planted that afternoon and while there is a few news crews that appear, asking Ophelia strange questions like 'Why are you doing this?' and 'What is the purpose?' while she stands there, head to toe in dirt with leaves in her vibrant red hair and mud smeared on her cheek and nose. She isn't sure how to answer the question, so Julio steps in.
"We're part of a community program, we're just giving back to the park, solidifying a future for our children in the area and hopefully raising some awareness for the environment." Ophelia just nods as Julio speaks. Really, she's just out with some friends, planting trees that will grow and require some hugs.
By the time everyone heads home, there's a tiredness about them, but this thrumming sense of accomplishment. Ophelia hears Julio on the phone to one of his business contacts later, talking about an outreach program. She doesn't bother listening in, going to find Mark and Charlotte instead, curling up with the napping duo and waiting for Julio to find them later.
Step Four;
Insight; made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Directing Clarice towards an accurate assessment of her inner turmoil is a little daunting. Not because Ophelia realises that she has her own unresolved issues with her parents, but because she realises that Clarice is nursing some troubling confliction regarding her sexuality. Nudging someone towards the realisation that they are attracted to females is difficult to consider when one is the recipient of those attractions.
It's not that Ophelia doesn't find Clarice attractive, she does. Clarice is all soft skin and simple curves. She's mousey brown hair and sharp hazel eyes. She's a crooked smile and a small gap in her teeth. She's a slim build with dainty wrists. She's adoration and resentment, she's laughter and fear, she's weakness and determination, she's resistance and guilt. Ophelia could tangle herself with Clarice and stroke through everything that makes the girl so pretty and so caring and so endearingly adorable. She could twine her fingers along those long, librarian hands and keep the girl forever.
But Clarice feels for the ideal of Ophelia, not the person she is, but what she represents. Clarice craves acceptance and guidance, she needs a figure that can ground her. Ophelia is far too flighty for that.
It doesn't stop her from smiling softer, her touch lingering. It doesn't stop Ophelia from introducing Clarice to Denise, another of Phe's Sponsoree's, it doesn't stop her from encouraging the pair to talk. They have so much in common, they match so well. Clarice comes out to Ophelia three days later, slightly flushed and anxious.
"Dearest, you don't need to worry." And Clarice pushes her hair behind her ear, glancing over at Denise, who is standing at the water cooler with Malcolm and Geoff. Ophelia already knows that Denise would be oh-so-very-open to a relationship like Clarice needs.
"But, it's just so, well, isn't it, wrong." Sometimes, Ophelia forgets just how rigid some people teach the bible.
"I have four children by two men, those men are married and I'm the third in our relationship. I'm no less loved than they love each other and the children are ours, the three of ours." Sometimes, she doesn't understand how people can possibly imagine boundaries on something as pure as love. If only they could feel it, if they could taste it or see it, they'd realise just how uncontrollable it is, how perfect and ideal it all is and how something like that, something like love could never be wrong or bad. "I'm hardly about to tell you that gender matters."
Clarice nods her head, and Phe can feel it. That acceptance of that part of herself. It's almost as good as that time Julio surprised her in the kitchen that one time.
Step Five;
Admittance; admitted the exact nature of our wrongs.
Why Julio writes her a letter, she doesn't know. But Ophelia reads it all the same. It's carefully thought out and worded and she smiles softly as she reads through it. It's the first time he's ever actually explained everything to her, even if it is just in pen, but that's more because Ophelia never pressed for his reasons.
"What're you reading?" Mark appears, as usual, out of no where. Just there in a second and filling up the room with all his scattered emotions that Ophelia pulls together and knots by his shoulder.
"Julio's letter." Mark makes a mumbling noise, something that Ophelia believes may be an acknowledgement.
"Have you gotten to the part about the Candy girl?" Ophelia scans the letter, raising an eyebrow at Mark.
"You got a different one, Twist. It's a personal admittance." She pats the bed, nodding Mark over onto her large, decadent, comfortable bed and encouraging him to join her. "What's the matter?" By now, they know better than to lie to her.
"He's doing better, I know. And what you're doing? God, Phe, it's amazing. You don't realise just what you're doing for them, but it's amazing. I just feel like maybe I'm being useless." Mark wrings his fingers together, staring at them in his lap.
"You've got the kids," Phe doesn't understand why they think she's doing something wonderful, it's just a few meetings, planting some trees. She feels like she's cheating on something. It's meant to be hard work, this volunteering thing, it's meant to be difficult. Ophelia is making friends, she's socialising and planting trees and playing. She's having the time of her life and she's supposed to be working hard. It really doesn't make sense, clearly she's slacking off somewhere. "You're keeping the house as a home, and Julio needs that. Every day, he comes home and just wants to wrap himself up in you. You should feel it, he's all jittery and muddle and then there you are and everything straightens, it's all so sweet."
She loves it when they clap eyes on each other, it's like that fall into love all over again. It's like jumping off a cliff and not knowing if the water below is deep enough. She could do it every day.
"You're what keeps him going." And Mark sort of smiles, leans into her and just lets her soak up his appreciation. "Love you too, Twist."
Step Six;
Cleansing; were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
No one is pushed into a baptism or christening, Ophelia can't really push for something she hasn't done herself, nor has any intention of doing. She contemplates cliff diving for a moment before putting it aside. Instead, there's another mass outing. This time the head out to the beach at the first light of the day.
"What is it this time?" No one seems to mind when she takes them on field trips; they see it as bonding, she sees it as giving back. The news crews seem to see it as some weird cult thing or something. Ophelia is strangely glad for Julio's little spin doctor lady thing. The suit is sent off to deal with the news crews while Ophelia and the group start cleaning up the beach.
It feels right. Tin cans and fishing wire and beer bottles, cleaning them all off the beach and even getting the stones and pebbles lifted up for some landscaping on the far end of the beach. "Is there a point to this, or are we just doing some poor inmates out of some community service?"
Ophelia knows that Malcolm is just being difficult because he hasn't understood the task, he hasn't grasped the concept, and that still irritates him. With the beach mostly cleared, Ophelia kicks off her shoes and stands by the shore. "You are the beach. This is where we are now, you've moved on, you're the beach. Everything has been picked up and cleared away. You've trashed all the bad and now," she drew a face in the sand, smiling up at them all as the water rolled in and cleared away her picture. "Now, it's up to you who you are."
There are sparks of understanding, and Clarice bends down to write her name in the sand just to watch it wash away. Malcolm takes off his wedding ring, looking at it carefully and Ophelia understands what he means to do. "You don't cast it off," she tells him, putting it in the middle of his hand and closing his fist around the band, "just the darkness attached."
When they leave the beach, spotless and clean and perfect, everyone feels a little lighter.
Step Seven;
Assistance; humbly ask God to remove our shortcomings.
Michael, who is twenty five and part of Ophelia's little group of former drug abusers, decided to go for the baptism. Ophelia promises to attend, as his Sponsor, although she's only just started meeting with the small group of Narcotic Anonymous attendees. Michael is a sweet boy, and Ophelia doesn't mind showing up to chapel in something just a little more conservative than she'd usually don.
Afterwards, she joins the small party at Michael's grandmother's house, bringing along with her heart shaped cookies and some of Lucia's brownies that she made while Ophelia iced the cookies with pink and blue and white.
"Ophelia, you have to meet my Grandma." Michael is brimming with energy, and Ophelia senses a magnificent sort of crash later. It's the first time in a long time that Michael has had his whole family around him, and with Mexican families like this one, Ophelia understands just how important that is for the young man. "Grandma, this is Ophelia."
Grandma is a stout woman with fluffy white hair and deep brown eyes. She's proud and loving and Ophelia can't find even the smallest hint of cruel or dark or malice inside her at all. It makes her a little light headed. She almost feels shy at meeting the woman.
"You're the one that got my niño back on the path?" Grandma takes Ophelia's face between her hands and kisses her cheeks softly. Ophelia just smiles brightly.
"Not at all, I'm just support." Michael is already off shaking hands with his brothers and getting a hug from his aunt, "He wants to make you proud, he wants to show you he's not what they say, he wants you to be able to smile when you speak about him, he doesn't want you to hurt when you think of him."
Grandma swells with love and adoration, and Ophelia could get lost in this. "Dear, are you single?" It makes her laugh, she's not the ideal bride for a traditional Mexican family like Michael's. But she raises her hand anyway, showing off the small, cameo ring that Julio bought for her following the twin’s birth, her own commitment to the trio.
"Happily committed and with a rather large brood." She knew that Grandma was somewhat disappointed, but she laughed her way through it. "He'll get his girl and she'll adore him so." Because Michael was so darling and such a pure heart, and if Ophelia knew anything it was that he would manage through this. "Cookie?" She offered Grandma a pink one, nibbling her way through a blue one, watching all the festivities and enjoying the family glow.
Step Eight;
Apology; list all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Ophelia finds Julio's list on her bed one day. It's been crumpled and straightened and crumpled and straightened again, names crossed out, rewritten or scribbled out. Her name is there -her proper name, along with Marie and Mark's. Emma's is there too and she remembers that whole incident, when Julio tried to self destruct again, when he'd almost blown up in New York, right in front of the press and on Emma's stomping ground.
The White lady had put Julio on a plane the same day and called Phe or Mark to pick him up from the airport since she'd smacked him with a psychic trance to stop him being so stupid. Phe didn't see Julio's apology to Emma being terribly difficult.
"Shaker," she slinks into his office, noticing him sitting at his desk, head in his hands as he stares at a piece of paper in front of him, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing, just some funding stuff." His shoulders are all tense, back rigid and his face drawn. Phe just wanders around the desk, her hands going to his shoulders and carefully starting to sap out the tension with a massage to boot.
"You should hire an accountant, they get their kicks from that. It's sort of their calling, playing it tit for tat." She didn't really know what it was he spent all his time doing -she didn't realise that a lot of her little social and community outings were getting funding from organisations and that Julio had sent anything up to try and make it easier for her. "Julio," he murmured a 'hmm' in response, leaning into her hands and sighing when she worked out some tension, taking most of it away her own sort of way. "Why am I on your amends list?"
She understands Marie, she understands Mark, she doesn't understand herself being there, because Julio's moods have never really affected her to the point where he's needed to apologise to her. He had never wronged her, he had never done anything that needed forgiving.
"Phe," he straightens up, pulling away from her hands to turn around, "Sarah," he hasn't ever called her that before, not even when they found out her name, she was still always just Ophelia. "The pressures I put on you, the weight you had to carry, what you did to keep Mark and I together, to keep me together, I should've never put that on you."
He was such an idiot. She shook her head, cupped his face with her hands and smiled, full of love and devotion. "You never have anything to apologise to me for, with all you give me, I don't mind a little stumble. You're too precious to let fall, and I'll always do the same. Now get up and in the kitchen, don't think I missed your belly rumble."
Step Nine;
Amends; made direct amends with everyone wherever possible.
"I'm just not sure if I can do it."
"What's holding you back?"
"What if she doesn't want to talk to me?"
"What if she does?"
"What if she doesn't forgive me?"
"What if she already has?"
"What if she doesn't love me any more?"
"What if she never stopped?"
They stand outside Malcolm's wife's house in the rain, Malcolm drenched to the bone and staring at the house while Ophelia stands quietly beside him. Joannie is the last person Malcolm has listed, she's his last to make amends, and Ophelia is knee deep in his anxious energy and gut churning fear. She doesn't remove it, doesn't douse it, he needs it to push him onwards.
There's a crash of lightning in the air, something that makes Malcolm take those steps up to the front door. Phe stays by the road, closing her eyes as the rain pours down on her, reaching out to feeling that tight coiling of fear and apprehension in Malcolm and the startled burst of shock from Joannie. Malcolm stumbles over his words, he stops trying to get his rehearsed speech out and just starts talking. Ophelia doesn't know how long she waits there, but there's this slow sweep of affection that filters out, this building sense of forgiveness and when she turns around Malcolm has his head buried in Joannie's shoulder, his shoulders shaking as he clings to his wife.
She smiles as she walks down the street in the rain, enjoying the monsoon.
Step Ten;
Progression; continued to take personal inventory, and promptly admitted when wrong.
Walking along the grocery store with Geoff is a sombre affair. Her funeral march isn't lost on herself but Geoff accepts it as another of her quirks. "How much shampoo should I get? I mean, do I stock up or just go day to day, do I get an all in one or a shampoo and then a conditioner? What's the best brands? What sort of hair do I have? I mean, is it normal, or is it dry, is it oily or damaged? I just don't know, Phe."
Her hand runs through the top of his hair, petting just slightly as she considers, "I'd say normal, a little dry at the scalp, a hydrating shampoo will surely help." Standing by the bottles she just watches him check them over. "Do you want scented or natural, it's all up to you. Buy a big one or small one, no wrong here to do." Shampoo is the first hurdle. They get a basic, lower cost all in one and Geoff relaxes slightly.
Shower gel comes easier, so does his toothpaste and mouth wash. They go to the home department and buy new bathroom towels and wash cloths. Stocking the fridge is easiest to do, they buy only what Geoff likes and don't focus on nutrition, dealing mainly in frozen meals although Phe points out some easy cook books to pick up for later on.
They stop at the drink isle.
"Usually, I'd have my kitchen full of those." Phe stares down at the pretty bottles, the colours all glinting together with their eye catching packages and their labels of enticement. "I'd have as many cheap bottles as possible, all over the place." Phe can't drag him away, she knows this, she has to stand where she is and let him walk away.
"I'm stronger than that now." He pushes onward, not looking back and Phe skips the rest of the way, her arms thrown around him in a hug and her smile infectious.
"Deserts, you deserve them, lets fill up the cart. Have a sweetness explosion with some strawberry tart!"
Step Eleven;
Knowledge; praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Meditation and prayer could be taken as the exact same thing. So, if any of her group wanted to pray, they could, if any of them simply wanted to meditate, that was fine too. She organised to her all her Sponsoree's together for the day out. Mark had told her that the weather would be fantastic for her plans, although he hid a little smirk that she wasn't all too sure about.
But still, one Friday afternoon, Ophelia and her darling circle of friends gathered around the park, sitting out on blankets and towels and quilts, and just waited for that calm to take them. This time, Ophelia helped everyone get into the zone, calming them and relaxing them to the point where everyone was loose and open.
The hours drifted by, people sighing softly and worry and fear ebbing out of everyone easily. The air was still, the sun warm, they had the shade in the trees but enough light to keep people sunny and happy themselves. No one notices the group of construction workers standing there, no one notices the news crews or the gathering crowds, no one notices when random people start to join the meditation, sitting calmly and quietly with the rest of them.
Julio and Mark appear after sunset, bringing Mama V, who has a basket full on sandwiches and fresh bottles of water to hand out to everyone. Mama V gets to Ophelia, smiling in that loving way as she pets Ophelia's hair back and kisses her forehead, giving her the water bottle and moving on.
"In a startling turn of events, here in Guadalajara, where a local woman and a group of fifteen have taken to peaceful protest in the Bosque la Primavera, where a section of the park had been scheduled for development which would culminate in the destruction of over a hundred trees and plan life." The news crews were rather stoic, calm and precise in their detailing. Lucia let go of Mark's hand, taking Merc with her and joining Ophelia, Merc crawling into his mother's lap and grinning up at her.
"Local politicians have amended the order to strip the area thanks to the action of local community activist, Sarah Mayspring. With us right now are the family of Ms Mayspring," the reporter gave Julio and Mark a small smile, "Gentlemen, do you have any words to explain?"
"It's simple really, she adores nature, she loves the outdoors. This is just one of many areas where Oph- Sarah and her group are trying to better the community. Everyone has a little bit to give back." When Ophelia came back to the now, noticing all the people around, she raised an eyebrow at Julio, who just smiled wide and got Charlotte to wave to her Momma.
Another sixteen trees were planted in the area in honour of the group.
Step Twelve;
Awakening; try to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Any time Ophelia completes a program with a person, she gives them a new potted plant to paint. The fact that she has an office building now, that she has her own branch of organisation to help deal with addictions. She hasn't named it, not really, although her building has a pretty mural with a plaque attached calling it the Cobweb Foundation.
There's a large garden area out behind the building, a nursery for all her baby plants and four trees planted in the garden, a fourth waiting for Charlotte to grow old enough to plant her own like her siblings. There are volunteers to help, there are meetings and outings and fund raisers and Ophelia is having the time of her life. Each of her original group visit, still doing well, even with bumps in the road, but they all know where she is and she always makes space in her life for them.
"You need a motto."
"A motto?"
"Yeah, something we can put under the mural, something to motivate people, something to speak to them." Julio hasn't steered her wrong at all in her journey towards this point, towards being this centre piece for the community, for the kids and the adults and the addicts and the homeless. They've got so many people under the branches of her tree now that she can't possibly narrow it down to simply starting it out to show Lucia there was nothing wrong, that Papa was fine and all was well.
"Stay sober and plant a tree." Both Ophelia and Julio stare at Lucia, who is once again painting on Ophelia's office wall with Mercurio.
"That's probably copyright infringement, baby. But good input."
"In Nature we trust."
"Lucia, you can't just take common sayings and put something else in there."
"Why not?" Ophelia likes that one, in Nature we trust, she likes it a fair amount. It would fit nicely on the wall, and it was so very true. "Why can't we have that motto? I want that one." And that is exactly how Ophelia gets it painted on the mural the following week.
The End; only not
"Why are we here?"
"They want to honour your contribution to the community, Phe."
"Did we write a cheque for someone?"
"They mean your work, all the things you do with your friends."
"I get an award for that?"
"Apparently."
"What is he doing? Why does he have a drill? What's the plaque- Why is he drilling in a hole in that tree?!"
"No, Ophelia, come back."
"She's gonna deck him. You should do something."
"Me? What about you?"
"I've got the kids. All weighed down."
"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I would've said something, but it's just funny, look at her! She's ninety pounds soaking wet and she's got that big old meat bag bodyguard on the floor."
"Okay, so you have a point."
"But you really need to go now, or she's going to kick the Mayor of New York in the gonads and she put on her steel capped boots today."
"Shit, Phe!"
"Look Charlotte, see Momma? See her beat up the naughty man drilling the tree? She's gonna sit in that tree for hours, so you and me and Alexandria and Alejandro, we're gonna go get some lunch for Momma and Papa, okay? Wave bye-bye."
prompt; addiction
word count; 5731
When Julio comes back from a trip to New York, pale and shaken and worried, Ophelia takes the children for the afternoon to let Mark and Julio talk without interruption. Later, with children worn out and tired, hugging their fathers' tightly before heading to their beds, Ophelia stands in the sitting room, anxious and worried, feeling the air heavy around them. Mark sits on the couch, Julio pacing behind it, and Ophelia has to leave the feelings hanging around them all for fear of breaking something between them.
"I'm going to," Mark looks up, looks at Julio and Phe follows the gaze, waiting for Julio to find his words. "I have a problem, I- I'm going to need those lists you made up, Phe, baby. The one for the meetings?" She knows exactly what he means, and she smiles softly, crossing the room towards him.
Her hands slide up his shoulders, pulling him in to hug close to her and kiss his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Shaker." Smoothing his hair back, she lets him feel her love and her pride and her belief in him. Stretching over the couch, her hand strokes Mark's cheek and she places a small kiss to his temple before she takes her leave, intent on compiling a more suitable list for Julio now that he's come to his decision.
Julio takes to sobriety slowly but surely. They all make small changes to assist. Lucia understands it best, she knows that there's something Papa has to do, but she's worried that it's something horrible, that she'll lose him. Phe tries to explain it the best she can, instead she ends up inviting a group of Julio's fellow AA attendees back to the house.
The Start;
Phe feels him the moment he crosses into the driveway, but she's slightly busy, so she doesn't meet him at the door with a hug and a grin. Julio walks into the house with long, heavy sigh, stopping short when he reaches the living room.
"I never understood it then, I never saw how it was linked. I guess, my father, it always just seemed normal." Clarice is a lovely woman, she's dainty and sweet, Ophelia likes her. She's a little bit bookish, and has some rather deep seated troubles from her past, she's so overly cautious and worried all the time. Ophelia adores giving the woman heart shaped cookies just to see that smile she has.
"Does he realise it? His impact on how you've grown? You know it's his vice and not your own." Around the living room, several heads nod.
"Phe, sweetie, what's going on?"
"Julio!" She naturally knew when he'd arrived, but these days she finds herself focusing so much more on the wider things, her powers never narrowing to just Julio and Mark any more. "Tea?" She's got a tea set out, four of her tea seats, actually. She had too many people and not enough to match, so she just mixed it up. Julio takes the tea cup from her, smiling a little awkwardly at the people around their living room. "You know the group, pick a seat?"
He does, and Phe pats his head lovingly, taking her seat again and grinning towards Clarice, waiting for the girl to continue.
Later, after the group have filed out, giving Ophelia their thanks, Julio asks her again. "What was that, Phe? Why bring them here?"
"Lucia was worried, you know how she can be. Had to show her it's all fine, had to let her see." For Ophelia, that meant letting Lucia see that these were all just people, perfectly ordinary people struggling with perfectly ordinary things. Brushing away invisible dust from Julio's shoulders, she smiled at him, "Don't fret it much, she only met them at the door. Martini, our dearest, took the kids to the store."
But what was meant to comfort Lucia, turned into something so much more for Ophelia. She doesn't see it like other people do, but in the future, they'll all look to this as the turning point. Really, it's just Ophelia getting too involved as always.
Step One;
Acceptance; we admitted that we were powerless over alcohol.
She becomes a Sponsor with little coaxing. Clarice, naturally, is Ophelia's first case as a Sponsor.
"I brought it for you, as a gift. But it's also an exercise, one that'll give you a lift." What it is, plainly, is a plant in a pot. It's a small green shrub, long spiked leaves with red tips. She put it in the plainest pot she could find, and it aches for her to see it like that.
"Um, thank you?" Clarice seems to think there's something attached to it, so Ophelia has to elaborate on the point of it.
"It needs you to care, it needs your love." Her fingers stroke the long leaves carefully, lovingly. "It's delicate and needy, like a child but less greedy." Clarice stares at it, as if something is dawning on her. "You'll care for it and tend it, keep it fed."
"It needs me." Ophelia nods her head, smiling nicely.
"First thing it needs is a pretty home, that pot's too plain, it'll feel like a drone. Paint or ink, it's fine with me, but let’s get you something colourful and bright to see." And thus starts the first of Ophelia's steps. Power over something so fragile, devotion to something so beautiful, a focus and a distraction.
It's easier than loaning out her children for a day.
Step Two;
Belief; a power greater than ourselves can return us to sanity.
Geoff is a troubling case, Geoff has a hollowness inside him. His plant lives in a green pot, carefully painted all the one colour; careful, considerate, controlled. Ophelia doesn't draw the emotions out of him like she could, instead, she does it with a calm sort of control that she really wasn't aware she had.
"Have you ever been addicted, Ophelia?" She nods once, giving him her full attention, even as a couple fight over the street. Geoff stares into his coffee cup; black, no sugar, scalding hot but drank cold. "It's strange, I feel like I'm the only one. Like I'm being punished for something."
"It's not punishment, just a trial." Ophelia has never been overly religious. She knows the words, she knows the Saints, she knows the belief system. She lives her life as openly and lovingly as she knows how in her state, she believes that's the point. "You're still here, you still have hope."
"Does He still love me?"
"Everyone is loved." There's a spark of something in him, it's tiny, but she smiles softly at the hint of it. "You'll see it in time, like a canvas carefully filled."
"You like art, don't you?" Her smile is so much broader.
"Colours and shapes, filling the gaps with something so full of meaning. It's about finding something that sparks up that feeling." He takes the moment to think, stirring a spoon around his coffee and she waits, patiently.
"I like animals, they interest me." Ophelia gets this glint in her eye, one that might scare a more observant person, but Geoff is still getting out of that stage where his motor functions are slow.
"Zoo." They spend the day examining all the animals, asking questions and feeding the tamer ones when Ophelia presses the owners for permission. By the end of the day, she can feel Geoff's slow rising hope and that careful belief mending itself.
Step Three;
Understanding; decision to turn our will and our lives over to God because we understood Him.
Ophelia is not Julio's Sponsor -Julio's Sponsor is a lovely Mexican man named Miguel, he's been sober for nineteen years following the death of his wife, he's a very bright man and a very loving father. However he does loan out Julio to Ophelia one afternoon when a majority of her Sponorees are at step three. Even those beyond it want to participate.
"What're we doing?"
Because Ophelia is not religious, she's made a slight amendment to her practice for the third step, she's taken the time to consider her options and keep it as close to the program as possible. "It's just a little different, it's all still in keeping."
They attend a large open space, green and new and full of life, she can still feel how fresh it all is. "Phe, baby," Julio is a little apprehensive, it's how he usually gets around some of the others, he's further along than this, but she knows it'll be good for him, "what're we doing?"
"Giving new life." There are saplings laid out, wrapped in their cloth diapers, fresh out of the nursery. "This is His world and it's what we wish to keep, so it's important to give and refresh and renew." There's an excitement through the group that makes Ophelia's blood tingle. "There's one for everyone and it goes in the ground, the Earth we've been given, this life we've all found." It's part of a plan, something to signify their faith in the God that Ophelia doesn't actually believe in. She believes in Nature though, and She is just as powerful as He is and thus, they're giving back to the world they've been blessed with.
It's a massive operation. Seventy trees are planted that afternoon and while there is a few news crews that appear, asking Ophelia strange questions like 'Why are you doing this?' and 'What is the purpose?' while she stands there, head to toe in dirt with leaves in her vibrant red hair and mud smeared on her cheek and nose. She isn't sure how to answer the question, so Julio steps in.
"We're part of a community program, we're just giving back to the park, solidifying a future for our children in the area and hopefully raising some awareness for the environment." Ophelia just nods as Julio speaks. Really, she's just out with some friends, planting trees that will grow and require some hugs.
By the time everyone heads home, there's a tiredness about them, but this thrumming sense of accomplishment. Ophelia hears Julio on the phone to one of his business contacts later, talking about an outreach program. She doesn't bother listening in, going to find Mark and Charlotte instead, curling up with the napping duo and waiting for Julio to find them later.
Step Four;
Insight; made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Directing Clarice towards an accurate assessment of her inner turmoil is a little daunting. Not because Ophelia realises that she has her own unresolved issues with her parents, but because she realises that Clarice is nursing some troubling confliction regarding her sexuality. Nudging someone towards the realisation that they are attracted to females is difficult to consider when one is the recipient of those attractions.
It's not that Ophelia doesn't find Clarice attractive, she does. Clarice is all soft skin and simple curves. She's mousey brown hair and sharp hazel eyes. She's a crooked smile and a small gap in her teeth. She's a slim build with dainty wrists. She's adoration and resentment, she's laughter and fear, she's weakness and determination, she's resistance and guilt. Ophelia could tangle herself with Clarice and stroke through everything that makes the girl so pretty and so caring and so endearingly adorable. She could twine her fingers along those long, librarian hands and keep the girl forever.
But Clarice feels for the ideal of Ophelia, not the person she is, but what she represents. Clarice craves acceptance and guidance, she needs a figure that can ground her. Ophelia is far too flighty for that.
It doesn't stop her from smiling softer, her touch lingering. It doesn't stop Ophelia from introducing Clarice to Denise, another of Phe's Sponsoree's, it doesn't stop her from encouraging the pair to talk. They have so much in common, they match so well. Clarice comes out to Ophelia three days later, slightly flushed and anxious.
"Dearest, you don't need to worry." And Clarice pushes her hair behind her ear, glancing over at Denise, who is standing at the water cooler with Malcolm and Geoff. Ophelia already knows that Denise would be oh-so-very-open to a relationship like Clarice needs.
"But, it's just so, well, isn't it, wrong." Sometimes, Ophelia forgets just how rigid some people teach the bible.
"I have four children by two men, those men are married and I'm the third in our relationship. I'm no less loved than they love each other and the children are ours, the three of ours." Sometimes, she doesn't understand how people can possibly imagine boundaries on something as pure as love. If only they could feel it, if they could taste it or see it, they'd realise just how uncontrollable it is, how perfect and ideal it all is and how something like that, something like love could never be wrong or bad. "I'm hardly about to tell you that gender matters."
Clarice nods her head, and Phe can feel it. That acceptance of that part of herself. It's almost as good as that time Julio surprised her in the kitchen that one time.
Step Five;
Admittance; admitted the exact nature of our wrongs.
Why Julio writes her a letter, she doesn't know. But Ophelia reads it all the same. It's carefully thought out and worded and she smiles softly as she reads through it. It's the first time he's ever actually explained everything to her, even if it is just in pen, but that's more because Ophelia never pressed for his reasons.
"What're you reading?" Mark appears, as usual, out of no where. Just there in a second and filling up the room with all his scattered emotions that Ophelia pulls together and knots by his shoulder.
"Julio's letter." Mark makes a mumbling noise, something that Ophelia believes may be an acknowledgement.
"Have you gotten to the part about the Candy girl?" Ophelia scans the letter, raising an eyebrow at Mark.
"You got a different one, Twist. It's a personal admittance." She pats the bed, nodding Mark over onto her large, decadent, comfortable bed and encouraging him to join her. "What's the matter?" By now, they know better than to lie to her.
"He's doing better, I know. And what you're doing? God, Phe, it's amazing. You don't realise just what you're doing for them, but it's amazing. I just feel like maybe I'm being useless." Mark wrings his fingers together, staring at them in his lap.
"You've got the kids," Phe doesn't understand why they think she's doing something wonderful, it's just a few meetings, planting some trees. She feels like she's cheating on something. It's meant to be hard work, this volunteering thing, it's meant to be difficult. Ophelia is making friends, she's socialising and planting trees and playing. She's having the time of her life and she's supposed to be working hard. It really doesn't make sense, clearly she's slacking off somewhere. "You're keeping the house as a home, and Julio needs that. Every day, he comes home and just wants to wrap himself up in you. You should feel it, he's all jittery and muddle and then there you are and everything straightens, it's all so sweet."
She loves it when they clap eyes on each other, it's like that fall into love all over again. It's like jumping off a cliff and not knowing if the water below is deep enough. She could do it every day.
"You're what keeps him going." And Mark sort of smiles, leans into her and just lets her soak up his appreciation. "Love you too, Twist."
Step Six;
Cleansing; were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
No one is pushed into a baptism or christening, Ophelia can't really push for something she hasn't done herself, nor has any intention of doing. She contemplates cliff diving for a moment before putting it aside. Instead, there's another mass outing. This time the head out to the beach at the first light of the day.
"What is it this time?" No one seems to mind when she takes them on field trips; they see it as bonding, she sees it as giving back. The news crews seem to see it as some weird cult thing or something. Ophelia is strangely glad for Julio's little spin doctor lady thing. The suit is sent off to deal with the news crews while Ophelia and the group start cleaning up the beach.
It feels right. Tin cans and fishing wire and beer bottles, cleaning them all off the beach and even getting the stones and pebbles lifted up for some landscaping on the far end of the beach. "Is there a point to this, or are we just doing some poor inmates out of some community service?"
Ophelia knows that Malcolm is just being difficult because he hasn't understood the task, he hasn't grasped the concept, and that still irritates him. With the beach mostly cleared, Ophelia kicks off her shoes and stands by the shore. "You are the beach. This is where we are now, you've moved on, you're the beach. Everything has been picked up and cleared away. You've trashed all the bad and now," she drew a face in the sand, smiling up at them all as the water rolled in and cleared away her picture. "Now, it's up to you who you are."
There are sparks of understanding, and Clarice bends down to write her name in the sand just to watch it wash away. Malcolm takes off his wedding ring, looking at it carefully and Ophelia understands what he means to do. "You don't cast it off," she tells him, putting it in the middle of his hand and closing his fist around the band, "just the darkness attached."
When they leave the beach, spotless and clean and perfect, everyone feels a little lighter.
Step Seven;
Assistance; humbly ask God to remove our shortcomings.
Michael, who is twenty five and part of Ophelia's little group of former drug abusers, decided to go for the baptism. Ophelia promises to attend, as his Sponsor, although she's only just started meeting with the small group of Narcotic Anonymous attendees. Michael is a sweet boy, and Ophelia doesn't mind showing up to chapel in something just a little more conservative than she'd usually don.
Afterwards, she joins the small party at Michael's grandmother's house, bringing along with her heart shaped cookies and some of Lucia's brownies that she made while Ophelia iced the cookies with pink and blue and white.
"Ophelia, you have to meet my Grandma." Michael is brimming with energy, and Ophelia senses a magnificent sort of crash later. It's the first time in a long time that Michael has had his whole family around him, and with Mexican families like this one, Ophelia understands just how important that is for the young man. "Grandma, this is Ophelia."
Grandma is a stout woman with fluffy white hair and deep brown eyes. She's proud and loving and Ophelia can't find even the smallest hint of cruel or dark or malice inside her at all. It makes her a little light headed. She almost feels shy at meeting the woman.
"You're the one that got my niño back on the path?" Grandma takes Ophelia's face between her hands and kisses her cheeks softly. Ophelia just smiles brightly.
"Not at all, I'm just support." Michael is already off shaking hands with his brothers and getting a hug from his aunt, "He wants to make you proud, he wants to show you he's not what they say, he wants you to be able to smile when you speak about him, he doesn't want you to hurt when you think of him."
Grandma swells with love and adoration, and Ophelia could get lost in this. "Dear, are you single?" It makes her laugh, she's not the ideal bride for a traditional Mexican family like Michael's. But she raises her hand anyway, showing off the small, cameo ring that Julio bought for her following the twin’s birth, her own commitment to the trio.
"Happily committed and with a rather large brood." She knew that Grandma was somewhat disappointed, but she laughed her way through it. "He'll get his girl and she'll adore him so." Because Michael was so darling and such a pure heart, and if Ophelia knew anything it was that he would manage through this. "Cookie?" She offered Grandma a pink one, nibbling her way through a blue one, watching all the festivities and enjoying the family glow.
Step Eight;
Apology; list all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Ophelia finds Julio's list on her bed one day. It's been crumpled and straightened and crumpled and straightened again, names crossed out, rewritten or scribbled out. Her name is there -her proper name, along with Marie and Mark's. Emma's is there too and she remembers that whole incident, when Julio tried to self destruct again, when he'd almost blown up in New York, right in front of the press and on Emma's stomping ground.
The White lady had put Julio on a plane the same day and called Phe or Mark to pick him up from the airport since she'd smacked him with a psychic trance to stop him being so stupid. Phe didn't see Julio's apology to Emma being terribly difficult.
"Shaker," she slinks into his office, noticing him sitting at his desk, head in his hands as he stares at a piece of paper in front of him, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing, just some funding stuff." His shoulders are all tense, back rigid and his face drawn. Phe just wanders around the desk, her hands going to his shoulders and carefully starting to sap out the tension with a massage to boot.
"You should hire an accountant, they get their kicks from that. It's sort of their calling, playing it tit for tat." She didn't really know what it was he spent all his time doing -she didn't realise that a lot of her little social and community outings were getting funding from organisations and that Julio had sent anything up to try and make it easier for her. "Julio," he murmured a 'hmm' in response, leaning into her hands and sighing when she worked out some tension, taking most of it away her own sort of way. "Why am I on your amends list?"
She understands Marie, she understands Mark, she doesn't understand herself being there, because Julio's moods have never really affected her to the point where he's needed to apologise to her. He had never wronged her, he had never done anything that needed forgiving.
"Phe," he straightens up, pulling away from her hands to turn around, "Sarah," he hasn't ever called her that before, not even when they found out her name, she was still always just Ophelia. "The pressures I put on you, the weight you had to carry, what you did to keep Mark and I together, to keep me together, I should've never put that on you."
He was such an idiot. She shook her head, cupped his face with her hands and smiled, full of love and devotion. "You never have anything to apologise to me for, with all you give me, I don't mind a little stumble. You're too precious to let fall, and I'll always do the same. Now get up and in the kitchen, don't think I missed your belly rumble."
Step Nine;
Amends; made direct amends with everyone wherever possible.
"I'm just not sure if I can do it."
"What's holding you back?"
"What if she doesn't want to talk to me?"
"What if she does?"
"What if she doesn't forgive me?"
"What if she already has?"
"What if she doesn't love me any more?"
"What if she never stopped?"
They stand outside Malcolm's wife's house in the rain, Malcolm drenched to the bone and staring at the house while Ophelia stands quietly beside him. Joannie is the last person Malcolm has listed, she's his last to make amends, and Ophelia is knee deep in his anxious energy and gut churning fear. She doesn't remove it, doesn't douse it, he needs it to push him onwards.
There's a crash of lightning in the air, something that makes Malcolm take those steps up to the front door. Phe stays by the road, closing her eyes as the rain pours down on her, reaching out to feeling that tight coiling of fear and apprehension in Malcolm and the startled burst of shock from Joannie. Malcolm stumbles over his words, he stops trying to get his rehearsed speech out and just starts talking. Ophelia doesn't know how long she waits there, but there's this slow sweep of affection that filters out, this building sense of forgiveness and when she turns around Malcolm has his head buried in Joannie's shoulder, his shoulders shaking as he clings to his wife.
She smiles as she walks down the street in the rain, enjoying the monsoon.
Step Ten;
Progression; continued to take personal inventory, and promptly admitted when wrong.
Walking along the grocery store with Geoff is a sombre affair. Her funeral march isn't lost on herself but Geoff accepts it as another of her quirks. "How much shampoo should I get? I mean, do I stock up or just go day to day, do I get an all in one or a shampoo and then a conditioner? What's the best brands? What sort of hair do I have? I mean, is it normal, or is it dry, is it oily or damaged? I just don't know, Phe."
Her hand runs through the top of his hair, petting just slightly as she considers, "I'd say normal, a little dry at the scalp, a hydrating shampoo will surely help." Standing by the bottles she just watches him check them over. "Do you want scented or natural, it's all up to you. Buy a big one or small one, no wrong here to do." Shampoo is the first hurdle. They get a basic, lower cost all in one and Geoff relaxes slightly.
Shower gel comes easier, so does his toothpaste and mouth wash. They go to the home department and buy new bathroom towels and wash cloths. Stocking the fridge is easiest to do, they buy only what Geoff likes and don't focus on nutrition, dealing mainly in frozen meals although Phe points out some easy cook books to pick up for later on.
They stop at the drink isle.
"Usually, I'd have my kitchen full of those." Phe stares down at the pretty bottles, the colours all glinting together with their eye catching packages and their labels of enticement. "I'd have as many cheap bottles as possible, all over the place." Phe can't drag him away, she knows this, she has to stand where she is and let him walk away.
"I'm stronger than that now." He pushes onward, not looking back and Phe skips the rest of the way, her arms thrown around him in a hug and her smile infectious.
"Deserts, you deserve them, lets fill up the cart. Have a sweetness explosion with some strawberry tart!"
Step Eleven;
Knowledge; praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Meditation and prayer could be taken as the exact same thing. So, if any of her group wanted to pray, they could, if any of them simply wanted to meditate, that was fine too. She organised to her all her Sponsoree's together for the day out. Mark had told her that the weather would be fantastic for her plans, although he hid a little smirk that she wasn't all too sure about.
But still, one Friday afternoon, Ophelia and her darling circle of friends gathered around the park, sitting out on blankets and towels and quilts, and just waited for that calm to take them. This time, Ophelia helped everyone get into the zone, calming them and relaxing them to the point where everyone was loose and open.
The hours drifted by, people sighing softly and worry and fear ebbing out of everyone easily. The air was still, the sun warm, they had the shade in the trees but enough light to keep people sunny and happy themselves. No one notices the group of construction workers standing there, no one notices the news crews or the gathering crowds, no one notices when random people start to join the meditation, sitting calmly and quietly with the rest of them.
Julio and Mark appear after sunset, bringing Mama V, who has a basket full on sandwiches and fresh bottles of water to hand out to everyone. Mama V gets to Ophelia, smiling in that loving way as she pets Ophelia's hair back and kisses her forehead, giving her the water bottle and moving on.
"In a startling turn of events, here in Guadalajara, where a local woman and a group of fifteen have taken to peaceful protest in the Bosque la Primavera, where a section of the park had been scheduled for development which would culminate in the destruction of over a hundred trees and plan life." The news crews were rather stoic, calm and precise in their detailing. Lucia let go of Mark's hand, taking Merc with her and joining Ophelia, Merc crawling into his mother's lap and grinning up at her.
"Local politicians have amended the order to strip the area thanks to the action of local community activist, Sarah Mayspring. With us right now are the family of Ms Mayspring," the reporter gave Julio and Mark a small smile, "Gentlemen, do you have any words to explain?"
"It's simple really, she adores nature, she loves the outdoors. This is just one of many areas where Oph- Sarah and her group are trying to better the community. Everyone has a little bit to give back." When Ophelia came back to the now, noticing all the people around, she raised an eyebrow at Julio, who just smiled wide and got Charlotte to wave to her Momma.
Another sixteen trees were planted in the area in honour of the group.
Step Twelve;
Awakening; try to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Any time Ophelia completes a program with a person, she gives them a new potted plant to paint. The fact that she has an office building now, that she has her own branch of organisation to help deal with addictions. She hasn't named it, not really, although her building has a pretty mural with a plaque attached calling it the Cobweb Foundation.
There's a large garden area out behind the building, a nursery for all her baby plants and four trees planted in the garden, a fourth waiting for Charlotte to grow old enough to plant her own like her siblings. There are volunteers to help, there are meetings and outings and fund raisers and Ophelia is having the time of her life. Each of her original group visit, still doing well, even with bumps in the road, but they all know where she is and she always makes space in her life for them.
"You need a motto."
"A motto?"
"Yeah, something we can put under the mural, something to motivate people, something to speak to them." Julio hasn't steered her wrong at all in her journey towards this point, towards being this centre piece for the community, for the kids and the adults and the addicts and the homeless. They've got so many people under the branches of her tree now that she can't possibly narrow it down to simply starting it out to show Lucia there was nothing wrong, that Papa was fine and all was well.
"Stay sober and plant a tree." Both Ophelia and Julio stare at Lucia, who is once again painting on Ophelia's office wall with Mercurio.
"That's probably copyright infringement, baby. But good input."
"In Nature we trust."
"Lucia, you can't just take common sayings and put something else in there."
"Why not?" Ophelia likes that one, in Nature we trust, she likes it a fair amount. It would fit nicely on the wall, and it was so very true. "Why can't we have that motto? I want that one." And that is exactly how Ophelia gets it painted on the mural the following week.
The End; only not
"Why are we here?"
"They want to honour your contribution to the community, Phe."
"Did we write a cheque for someone?"
"They mean your work, all the things you do with your friends."
"I get an award for that?"
"Apparently."
"What is he doing? Why does he have a drill? What's the plaque- Why is he drilling in a hole in that tree?!"
"No, Ophelia, come back."
"She's gonna deck him. You should do something."
"Me? What about you?"
"I've got the kids. All weighed down."
"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I would've said something, but it's just funny, look at her! She's ninety pounds soaking wet and she's got that big old meat bag bodyguard on the floor."
"Okay, so you have a point."
"But you really need to go now, or she's going to kick the Mayor of New York in the gonads and she put on her steel capped boots today."
"Shit, Phe!"
"Look Charlotte, see Momma? See her beat up the naughty man drilling the tree? She's gonna sit in that tree for hours, so you and me and Alexandria and Alejandro, we're gonna go get some lunch for Momma and Papa, okay? Wave bye-bye."