Vanilla 28, chocolate 12, strawberry 26: Enough to Go By
Title: Enough to Go By
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vanilla 28 (mail/letter/package), chocolate 12 (understanding), strawberry 26 (rug), whipped cream (Ivy).
Word Count: 1962
Rating: PG.
Summary: Aaron gets into Berkeley, Ivy throws a fit, and Aaron's mother Melanie makes her first appearance.
Notes: Third leg of the cross-country marathon for Team Inconvienent Fire Drill. Also, I feel like there's something not quite working about this, and I'm not sure what it is. Concrit would be extremely helpful if you've got it.
Aaron sailed into the living room and in his best Professor Farnsworth imitation announced, "Good news, everyone!"
Neither of his sisters looked up, or indeed reacted at all. Ivy lay slung over the couch, nose in the middle of some book for school, and Summer, flat on her back on her baby blanket, was fascinated by her toes. Since Summer was less than a year old, Aaron felt he could forgive her.
Ivy was a different story.
He rolled his eyes, and reached down to tweak one of Ivy's pigtails. "I can see you're all riveted."
"Macbeth is way more interesting than you," Ivy said, turning a page. "Out, out, damned spot!"
"You only like it because it lets you get away with swearing," Aaron informed her. "All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten your foul mouth."
Ivy stuck her tongue out at him, still without looking up. "What's so important that you have to interrupt my reading?"
Aaron grinned, and waved the envelope at her. "I got into Berkeley."
That got a reaction, if not the one he'd hoped for. Ivy pushed herself up to stare at him with wide eyes. "What? Berkeley? But that's on the other side of the country!"
"Yeah," he said, confused and a little hurt. "Near San Francisco. It's a really good school. And it's your mom's alma mater, so she'll be happy."
"I don't care," Ivy said. "I won't let you go to Berkeley."
He reached out to tweak her pigtail again. "You don't have any say in it, pipsqueak."
She dodged his hand and scowled at him. "You can't go to Berkeley!"
"First of all," Aaron said, beginning to grow annoyed, "I can go to any school I want, and you can't stop me. Second, what is your problem? I thought you'd be happy for me!"
Ivy did not drop her eyes; she never backed down, not even when she knew she was wrong. But her stubborn, angry expression wilted, and her lip began to quiver. "I don't want you to go to California," she said. "Nobody will walk me home from school if you go to California."
Oh. That's what this was about.
He sighed. "Well, just because I got in doesn't mean I'm going. But I'm going to go away someday, Ivy, and so will you. That's what growing up's about."
"I don't want it," Ivy said, and her chin firmed again.
Aaron tweaked her nose this time. "You can't change things just by wanting them, pipsqueak." Though if anybody could, Ivy was probably the one; she had enough willpower for three people. But that was neither here nor there. "And I'll be back for breaks, you know that. And it's not even for another nine months. Remember how long your mom was pregnant before Summer was born? That's how long it's going to be."
She gave him a death glare, which was more like her usual self. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid. I'm twelve, not four."
"Well, when you behave like a four-year-old..." Aaron began.
"Oh!" Ivy didn't throw her book at him, but she did get up and stomp out of the room. Summer, distracted from an intent study of the ceiling, made an inquiring noise.
Aaron sighed, and tickled Summer's belly to distract her. This was going to be a long night.
---
His stepmother Gail was, as he'd predicted, thrilled when he told them over dinner. His father was more restrained but equally pleased, and when he called his mother, she sounded over the moon. If busy.
"I'm so proud of you, sweetie," she said, as something clanked in the background. "No, Ben, it goes in the other way. That's wonderful news!"
"Yeah," Aaron said, unenthusiastically. "I guess."
There was a pause. "Aaron, are you all right?" his mother asked, sounding suspicious. "Did your father say something to you?"
"What? No. I mean, he said congratulations and all, but nothing negative." Aaron grinned suddenly. "You know, Mom, most people would ask that about Gail."
His mother snorted. "Yeah, right, like Gail would ever do that. Unlike your father, she actually has half a clue when it comes to childrearing."
Aaron grinned wider. "Yeah, well, Dad did everything right, so stop ragging on him."
"All right," his mother said, and laughed. "I suppose if I can trust Gail with my kid, I can trust your father with you too. What's up, then?"
"It's Ivy," he said, and sighed. "I told her I got into Berkeley, and she threw a fit. She's still not speaking to me."
"When was this fit?" his mother asked. Aaron told her, and she sighed. "Kiddo, you can't expect her to get over it in three hours. She is only twelve."
Aaron wrinkled his nose, and glanced into the kitchen, where Ivy was sulking around putting dishes in the dishwasher. "I'm sure I was much more reasonable when I was twelve."
His mother laughed again. "Sorry to disillusion you, but you definitely were not."
He might have said "I was so!" if he hadn't realized that it was exactly the sort of behavior he was complaining about. As things were, he figured it out in time and changed the incipient sentence to, "Okay, whatever you say. How do I get her to quit sulking?"
"As the only person in this conversation who was ever a twelve-year-old girl-- Ben, I told you, you're putting it in upside down!-- you don't get them to do anything. Ivy will stop sulking in her own sweet time." She paused, then added, "You might try making it clear that she'll always be your sister and you'll always love her, though."
"She knows that, Mom." He shifted the phone to his other ear.
"Apparently she doesn't," his mother said. "Aaron, remember, she's not had the most stable family life. You don't have any idea what that's like."
Aaron found that a little bit ridiculous. "Mom, you and dad divorced when I was two."
"Your point?"
"My point," he said, "is that I know what it's like to have an unstable family."
"Fair enough, but you had both your parents around and you knew we weren't going to leave you. Ivy--" Something clattered loudly on the other end, and Aaron could just barely hear his stepfather swearing. "Oh, for the love of-- I've got to go, Aaron. Ben's trying to fix the sink and making a mess."
Aaron grinned. His stepfather was one of the smartest men he'd ever met, and yet was totally incapable of basic mechanical tasks. "Okay, Mom. Tell him I said hi."
"I will. Love you, kiddo. Remember what I said about Ivy." She hung up.
"Sure, Mom, whatever," Aaron said into the silence of his handset.
--
Aaron came out of his room at eleven-thirty for a nearly-midnight snack and nearly tripped over Ivy, which badly startled him. He'd thought everyone was asleep.
"Ivy?" he hissed, crouching to get on her level. "You're supposed to be in bed!"
"I'm not tired," she hissed back, without looking at him. "Go away."
Considering that she was sitting on the rug right outside his room (with another rug inexplicably wrapped around her shoulders), Aaron felt this to be an unreasonable request. "No," he said. "You have to go to bed sometime, pipsqueak. You've got school tomorrow."
Ivy scowled, still refusing to look at him. "So do you. You're not in bed. And don't call me pipsqueak."
"I'm still doing homework," he said. "What's wrong, Ivy?"
She scowled harder. "Nothing. As if you'd care. Go away."
Aaron sat back on his heels and huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Ivy, little sister, I love you dearly, but if you don't stop it I am going to be badly tempted to pop you one. Not everything's about you."
"Oh!" She whirled to glare at him. "That is not fair! When did I ever say it was?"
"You made it pretty clear," he retorted. "And keep your voice down. If you wake up Summer it's on your own head."
Ivy balled her fists, letting the rug slip from her shoulders. "I never said it was about me, and I don't know why you think I think that." Her tone made it a question-- barely.
Aaron chose to ignore it. No way he was going to rat out his mother. "Me going to Berkeley," he said instead, "if I go, has nothing to do with you."
Her chin came up. "But I'm going to miss you if you go."
"You're making it about you again," Aaron said. "It's not about you. It doesn't mean I won't miss you, or that I don't love you, because it's got nothing to do with you. All it means is..." He stopped suddenly, remembering; this was almost exactly how his parents had explained their divorce all those years ago.
Ivy watched him with round eyes for a moment. "All it means is what?" she prompted, after a while.
"Uh..." He shook his head. "It means I want to go and it'll be a good place for me. That's all. It doesn't mean I'm leaving."
"But you are," she said, but it was no longer a pout, and there were no tears threatening. This was just Ivy picking at holes in logic, which was an infuriating habit but less annoying than the silent treatment.
Anyway, this time he had a plug for the hole. "Not forever. It doesn't count if you don't leave for forever. Seriously, Ivy, I'm coming back."
She thought about that for a moment. "I still don't want you to go," she said, after a while. Aaron was about to be very irritated all over her when she added, "But I guess you can. If you want to."
He sighed. Beggars couldn't be choosers and she was twelve. Besides, the day Ivy stopped being convinced that she ruled the universe would be a sad day indeed. "With your Highness's gracious permission."
She picked up a corner of the rug she'd been wearing and swatted at him with it. "I'm a Majesty, not a Highness."
"Oh, yeah? What's the difference?"
"A Majesty," Ivy said, with immense gravity, "is a ruling monarch. A Highness is just a princess, and I'm not gonna be a princess. I'm gonna be an overlord."
Aaron grinned. "An evil one, right? Ruler of all Australia."
She shook her head, red hair flying. "Of the world. And when I rule the world I'm gonna make Berkeley be in New York."
Touched, Aaron ruffled her hair. "Thanks, pipsqueak." He paused, glanced at the clock-- after midnight now, sheesh-- and added, "You gonna abolish bedtimes, too?"
Ivy looked up, and muffled a shriek in her rug. "Oh, no!" She bounced to her feet and grabbed her rug, then paused, and looked back down at Aaron. "You won't tell, right?"
He pretended to consider for a moment, while Ivy bounced from foot to foot impatiently, throwing glances at their parents' bedroom door. He could have told her that they wouldn't wake up unless Summer screamed or the house caught on fire; not with a six-month-old baby in the household who had yet to master sleeping through the night. "Okay, I won't tell. But you promise not to give me the silent treatment again."
"I promise!" she whispered. "I promise, I promise. 'Night!" She blazed off down the hallway, making surprisingly little sound, little ninja that she was.
She was totally going to forget that promise as soon as she woke up. Ah, well. If they needed more midnight talks, they could have them. At least he understood why the sulks, now... maybe next time he'd get her in bed by eleven forty-five.
Yeah, right. Aaron got up and went to fetch his long-delayed snack, grinning.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vanilla 28 (mail/letter/package), chocolate 12 (understanding), strawberry 26 (rug), whipped cream (Ivy).
Word Count: 1962
Rating: PG.
Summary: Aaron gets into Berkeley, Ivy throws a fit, and Aaron's mother Melanie makes her first appearance.
Notes: Third leg of the cross-country marathon for Team Inconvienent Fire Drill. Also, I feel like there's something not quite working about this, and I'm not sure what it is. Concrit would be extremely helpful if you've got it.
Aaron sailed into the living room and in his best Professor Farnsworth imitation announced, "Good news, everyone!"
Neither of his sisters looked up, or indeed reacted at all. Ivy lay slung over the couch, nose in the middle of some book for school, and Summer, flat on her back on her baby blanket, was fascinated by her toes. Since Summer was less than a year old, Aaron felt he could forgive her.
Ivy was a different story.
He rolled his eyes, and reached down to tweak one of Ivy's pigtails. "I can see you're all riveted."
"Macbeth is way more interesting than you," Ivy said, turning a page. "Out, out, damned spot!"
"You only like it because it lets you get away with swearing," Aaron informed her. "All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten your foul mouth."
Ivy stuck her tongue out at him, still without looking up. "What's so important that you have to interrupt my reading?"
Aaron grinned, and waved the envelope at her. "I got into Berkeley."
That got a reaction, if not the one he'd hoped for. Ivy pushed herself up to stare at him with wide eyes. "What? Berkeley? But that's on the other side of the country!"
"Yeah," he said, confused and a little hurt. "Near San Francisco. It's a really good school. And it's your mom's alma mater, so she'll be happy."
"I don't care," Ivy said. "I won't let you go to Berkeley."
He reached out to tweak her pigtail again. "You don't have any say in it, pipsqueak."
She dodged his hand and scowled at him. "You can't go to Berkeley!"
"First of all," Aaron said, beginning to grow annoyed, "I can go to any school I want, and you can't stop me. Second, what is your problem? I thought you'd be happy for me!"
Ivy did not drop her eyes; she never backed down, not even when she knew she was wrong. But her stubborn, angry expression wilted, and her lip began to quiver. "I don't want you to go to California," she said. "Nobody will walk me home from school if you go to California."
Oh. That's what this was about.
He sighed. "Well, just because I got in doesn't mean I'm going. But I'm going to go away someday, Ivy, and so will you. That's what growing up's about."
"I don't want it," Ivy said, and her chin firmed again.
Aaron tweaked her nose this time. "You can't change things just by wanting them, pipsqueak." Though if anybody could, Ivy was probably the one; she had enough willpower for three people. But that was neither here nor there. "And I'll be back for breaks, you know that. And it's not even for another nine months. Remember how long your mom was pregnant before Summer was born? That's how long it's going to be."
She gave him a death glare, which was more like her usual self. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid. I'm twelve, not four."
"Well, when you behave like a four-year-old..." Aaron began.
"Oh!" Ivy didn't throw her book at him, but she did get up and stomp out of the room. Summer, distracted from an intent study of the ceiling, made an inquiring noise.
Aaron sighed, and tickled Summer's belly to distract her. This was going to be a long night.
---
His stepmother Gail was, as he'd predicted, thrilled when he told them over dinner. His father was more restrained but equally pleased, and when he called his mother, she sounded over the moon. If busy.
"I'm so proud of you, sweetie," she said, as something clanked in the background. "No, Ben, it goes in the other way. That's wonderful news!"
"Yeah," Aaron said, unenthusiastically. "I guess."
There was a pause. "Aaron, are you all right?" his mother asked, sounding suspicious. "Did your father say something to you?"
"What? No. I mean, he said congratulations and all, but nothing negative." Aaron grinned suddenly. "You know, Mom, most people would ask that about Gail."
His mother snorted. "Yeah, right, like Gail would ever do that. Unlike your father, she actually has half a clue when it comes to childrearing."
Aaron grinned wider. "Yeah, well, Dad did everything right, so stop ragging on him."
"All right," his mother said, and laughed. "I suppose if I can trust Gail with my kid, I can trust your father with you too. What's up, then?"
"It's Ivy," he said, and sighed. "I told her I got into Berkeley, and she threw a fit. She's still not speaking to me."
"When was this fit?" his mother asked. Aaron told her, and she sighed. "Kiddo, you can't expect her to get over it in three hours. She is only twelve."
Aaron wrinkled his nose, and glanced into the kitchen, where Ivy was sulking around putting dishes in the dishwasher. "I'm sure I was much more reasonable when I was twelve."
His mother laughed again. "Sorry to disillusion you, but you definitely were not."
He might have said "I was so!" if he hadn't realized that it was exactly the sort of behavior he was complaining about. As things were, he figured it out in time and changed the incipient sentence to, "Okay, whatever you say. How do I get her to quit sulking?"
"As the only person in this conversation who was ever a twelve-year-old girl-- Ben, I told you, you're putting it in upside down!-- you don't get them to do anything. Ivy will stop sulking in her own sweet time." She paused, then added, "You might try making it clear that she'll always be your sister and you'll always love her, though."
"She knows that, Mom." He shifted the phone to his other ear.
"Apparently she doesn't," his mother said. "Aaron, remember, she's not had the most stable family life. You don't have any idea what that's like."
Aaron found that a little bit ridiculous. "Mom, you and dad divorced when I was two."
"Your point?"
"My point," he said, "is that I know what it's like to have an unstable family."
"Fair enough, but you had both your parents around and you knew we weren't going to leave you. Ivy--" Something clattered loudly on the other end, and Aaron could just barely hear his stepfather swearing. "Oh, for the love of-- I've got to go, Aaron. Ben's trying to fix the sink and making a mess."
Aaron grinned. His stepfather was one of the smartest men he'd ever met, and yet was totally incapable of basic mechanical tasks. "Okay, Mom. Tell him I said hi."
"I will. Love you, kiddo. Remember what I said about Ivy." She hung up.
"Sure, Mom, whatever," Aaron said into the silence of his handset.
--
Aaron came out of his room at eleven-thirty for a nearly-midnight snack and nearly tripped over Ivy, which badly startled him. He'd thought everyone was asleep.
"Ivy?" he hissed, crouching to get on her level. "You're supposed to be in bed!"
"I'm not tired," she hissed back, without looking at him. "Go away."
Considering that she was sitting on the rug right outside his room (with another rug inexplicably wrapped around her shoulders), Aaron felt this to be an unreasonable request. "No," he said. "You have to go to bed sometime, pipsqueak. You've got school tomorrow."
Ivy scowled, still refusing to look at him. "So do you. You're not in bed. And don't call me pipsqueak."
"I'm still doing homework," he said. "What's wrong, Ivy?"
She scowled harder. "Nothing. As if you'd care. Go away."
Aaron sat back on his heels and huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Ivy, little sister, I love you dearly, but if you don't stop it I am going to be badly tempted to pop you one. Not everything's about you."
"Oh!" She whirled to glare at him. "That is not fair! When did I ever say it was?"
"You made it pretty clear," he retorted. "And keep your voice down. If you wake up Summer it's on your own head."
Ivy balled her fists, letting the rug slip from her shoulders. "I never said it was about me, and I don't know why you think I think that." Her tone made it a question-- barely.
Aaron chose to ignore it. No way he was going to rat out his mother. "Me going to Berkeley," he said instead, "if I go, has nothing to do with you."
Her chin came up. "But I'm going to miss you if you go."
"You're making it about you again," Aaron said. "It's not about you. It doesn't mean I won't miss you, or that I don't love you, because it's got nothing to do with you. All it means is..." He stopped suddenly, remembering; this was almost exactly how his parents had explained their divorce all those years ago.
Ivy watched him with round eyes for a moment. "All it means is what?" she prompted, after a while.
"Uh..." He shook his head. "It means I want to go and it'll be a good place for me. That's all. It doesn't mean I'm leaving."
"But you are," she said, but it was no longer a pout, and there were no tears threatening. This was just Ivy picking at holes in logic, which was an infuriating habit but less annoying than the silent treatment.
Anyway, this time he had a plug for the hole. "Not forever. It doesn't count if you don't leave for forever. Seriously, Ivy, I'm coming back."
She thought about that for a moment. "I still don't want you to go," she said, after a while. Aaron was about to be very irritated all over her when she added, "But I guess you can. If you want to."
He sighed. Beggars couldn't be choosers and she was twelve. Besides, the day Ivy stopped being convinced that she ruled the universe would be a sad day indeed. "With your Highness's gracious permission."
She picked up a corner of the rug she'd been wearing and swatted at him with it. "I'm a Majesty, not a Highness."
"Oh, yeah? What's the difference?"
"A Majesty," Ivy said, with immense gravity, "is a ruling monarch. A Highness is just a princess, and I'm not gonna be a princess. I'm gonna be an overlord."
Aaron grinned. "An evil one, right? Ruler of all Australia."
She shook her head, red hair flying. "Of the world. And when I rule the world I'm gonna make Berkeley be in New York."
Touched, Aaron ruffled her hair. "Thanks, pipsqueak." He paused, glanced at the clock-- after midnight now, sheesh-- and added, "You gonna abolish bedtimes, too?"
Ivy looked up, and muffled a shriek in her rug. "Oh, no!" She bounced to her feet and grabbed her rug, then paused, and looked back down at Aaron. "You won't tell, right?"
He pretended to consider for a moment, while Ivy bounced from foot to foot impatiently, throwing glances at their parents' bedroom door. He could have told her that they wouldn't wake up unless Summer screamed or the house caught on fire; not with a six-month-old baby in the household who had yet to master sleeping through the night. "Okay, I won't tell. But you promise not to give me the silent treatment again."
"I promise!" she whispered. "I promise, I promise. 'Night!" She blazed off down the hallway, making surprisingly little sound, little ninja that she was.
She was totally going to forget that promise as soon as she woke up. Ah, well. If they needed more midnight talks, they could have them. At least he understood why the sulks, now... maybe next time he'd get her in bed by eleven forty-five.
Yeah, right. Aaron got up and went to fetch his long-delayed snack, grinning.