Show and Tell
December, 2030
“Mam?”
“That’s right, Marcus. There’s a picture of your mam, looking pretty as ever.”
“He still don’t understand, does he?”
“I still don’t understand, Laine. I can hardly expect the babby to grasp the concept.”
“Oh, darlin’…”
“Don’t.”
“You’re allowed to miss her, you know. You’re allowed to be mad as hell about it too. Ain’t no one here goin’ to tell you’re wrong for feelin’ it.”
“I know that, sister of mine.”
“Ain’t no one goin’ to tell you you’re wrong for findin’ moments of happiness either, Rory.”
“Laine…”
“Come on. Someone’s got to save Anrai from bein’ tackled by two little boys ramped up on sugar and excitement.”
“Why does it have to me?”
“It don’t. We can just go watch our children torture him for a while.”
“That does have a certain appeal to it.”
“Don’t it, though?” A small smile, “Besides, it ain’t like the rest of us are tall enough to get that thing up on the top of the tree.”
“I see. Just using me, is that it?”
“If you don’t get your famous ass out of this room and help me decorate for Christmas, Rory Stone, I’m goin’ to call the local network affiliate and tell them where you are hidin’ for the holidays.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re mean, Laine?”
“Tough love, darlin’. Tough love.”
Laine Anderson MacEibhir//Flint Creek//224
Rory isn’t mine, I’m just using him. Marcus is quite mine, however.
This is set fairly far in Laine’s future, Marcus’ past. Cross-posted here.
“Mam?”
“That’s right, Marcus. There’s a picture of your mam, looking pretty as ever.”
“He still don’t understand, does he?”
“I still don’t understand, Laine. I can hardly expect the babby to grasp the concept.”
“Oh, darlin’…”
“Don’t.”
“You’re allowed to miss her, you know. You’re allowed to be mad as hell about it too. Ain’t no one here goin’ to tell you’re wrong for feelin’ it.”
“I know that, sister of mine.”
“Ain’t no one goin’ to tell you you’re wrong for findin’ moments of happiness either, Rory.”
“Laine…”
“Come on. Someone’s got to save Anrai from bein’ tackled by two little boys ramped up on sugar and excitement.”
“Why does it have to me?”
“It don’t. We can just go watch our children torture him for a while.”
“That does have a certain appeal to it.”
“Don’t it, though?” A small smile, “Besides, it ain’t like the rest of us are tall enough to get that thing up on the top of the tree.”
“I see. Just using me, is that it?”
“If you don’t get your famous ass out of this room and help me decorate for Christmas, Rory Stone, I’m goin’ to call the local network affiliate and tell them where you are hidin’ for the holidays.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re mean, Laine?”
“Tough love, darlin’. Tough love.”
Laine Anderson MacEibhir//Flint Creek//224
Rory isn’t mine, I’m just using him. Marcus is quite mine, however.
This is set fairly far in Laine’s future, Marcus’ past. Cross-posted here.