Carrot Cake 12, Coffee 12: that's what you get
Title: that's what you get
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 12 (eat), coffee 12 (frame), whipped cream (Ivy in utero), rainbow sprinkles (Gail and Kim).
Word Count: 1672
Rating: PG-13 for swearing. A lot of swearing.
Summary: Sometimes Gail just needs a friend, some ice cream, and elaborate plans for murder. Kim provides.
Notes: Well, if you thought you hated Ivy's biofather before...
"The son of a bitch," Gail spat, as soon as Kim opened the door, and barely managed not to burst into tears.
"Oh, honey," Kim said, sympathy loading her tone. "Come in, I'll get the ice cream."
Gail came in, ducked into Kim's pastel living room, and curled up on the pastel couch, wrapping herself around a pastel cushion and pressing her face against the armrest as Kim disappeared into the kitchen. She would not cry, she told herself, listening to the faint sounds of conversation. She would not.
Or at least, she amended, she would not cry until Kim's husband was gone. Some things you just didn't do.
Kim came back in, bearing two containers of ice cream and a spoon for each of them. "The mister's gone," she said, depositing the ice cream on the coffee table and sitting down next to Gail. "Tell me all about it."
"Fucking Brad," Gail said, which to her thinking said it all; hurrah for double entendres. She sat up a little more, and twisted to face her best friend. "Fucking Brad."
"I figured," Kim said, patting her arm gently. "I take it you told him?"
Gail nodded, and wiped away a few entirely unreasonable tears. "The son of a bitch called me a whore and told me I was trying to trap him. As if he was so irresistable. I don't fucking want to marry him. I didn't then, and I sure as hell don't now."
Kim's face had stiffened and gone remote as she listened; now, she shook her head. "He's a dead man," she said. "I mean that. He has but hours to live. Chocolate chip or avocado?"
"Ew," Gail said, and followed that up with, "Actually, avocado ice cream sounds good. As if I didn't already know I was pregnant."
"Stick with chocolate chip," Kim advised, handing over the relevant container, with a spoon balanced on top. "Avocado is an acquired taste, I think you'll find."
"I still can't believe they make avocado ice cream," Gail mumbled, popping her own container open. "I mean, of all the things to make ice cream out of."
Kim shrugged elaborately, and rearranged herself until she sat cross-legged, balancing the ice cream in her lap. "Go to California sometime. They put avocado in everything. Including sushi, which is a crime, and I like avocado. Now, about Brad... would you prefer an alibi or a shallow grave?"
"I want to kill him," Gail said, digging into the ice cream and imagining Brad's chest in its place. "I want him dead. Preferably messily."
"We can do that," Kim said, comfortingly. She scooped herself a spoonful and ate it, with every evidence of enjoyment, as Gail watched in a sort of bizarre fascination. "I know people. My mister knows people. We can make him die."
"Mm-hmm," Gail said emphatically, around her own spoonful of ice cream. "With a big dictionary, a fourth-story window and a garden hose?"
Kim considered that for a moment. "Sure," she said, finally. "I mean, it'd take some creativity, and I think I'd need a picture frame, too, but I am nothing if not creative. You think your sister would want to help?"
Cecily probably would, at that. "Yeah. She can bring the dictionary."
"Okay," Kim said. "You call her, and she can come over here, and then the three of us can go kill Brad. My mister'll give us an alibi, sure as anything. And then he'll be dead and out of your hair and you'll never have to think of him again."
Gail nodded, then put her spoon down and started to cry.
It was her particular curse that she had never been able to cry quietly or prettily. Maybe it was because she didn't cry often; she'd always been a pretty stoic kid, and she'd kept that into adulthood. Movies and books and national tragedies that left others in tears saw her dry-eyed and practical, thinking of what could be done next. She'd always valued that about herself.
But stoicism meant that when she did cry, it was hard and ugly, sobs shaking her chest and tearing her throat. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she could hold back the tears and the harsh sounds she was making, but it didn't help, it never helped, and it hurt so fucking much she could hardly breathe.
"Oh, honey." Kim's voice, soft and mournful, and Kim's hands easing the ice cream out of her lap so she could curl up more, and Kim's arms around her shoulders and Kim hugging her tight. "Go on and cry, honey. Everything's going to be all right. Cess and I can kill him dead for you."
"That's not really helping," Gail got out, around her sobs. "I was just hoping it would. Oh, God, Kim, it hurts so much!"
"I know," Kim said. "I know, I know."
"I wasted a year on him," Gail told her. It wouldn't stay in now, none of it would. "A whole fucking year. I thought... I thought... I don't know what I thought but it was so wrong, obviously, because he can't even trust me or respect me and I don't know what to do, I don't..."
Kim had been making little meaningless noises of agreement and acceptance; now she spoke up. "You'll do what you always do, honey, you'll get through. You're so good at that. And I'll be here, and Cess, and your other friends. We'll all be here for you."
"I want him to go away," Gail said, viciously, and bit back a fresh burst of tears. "God damn him, anyway. This is my kid's father?"
"Take it from me, honey," Kim said, patting her back. "DNA doesn't count for shit. It's where they grow up that matters, and any kid with you for a mom is going to turn out fine."
Gail snorted, and felt a sudden rush of bitterness. "Fat chance. I didn't even have the brains to see what an asshole Brad was. You'd think I'd have fucking noticed sooner."
Kim narrowed her eyes, then leaned back and nudged Gail in the ribs until she sat up enough to give Kim a good look at her face. "Is that what this is about?" she asked, her tone gentler than Gail would have expected given her expression. "Your... shall we call it a lapse in judgment?"
Maybe it was. "I fucked up so badly, Kim," she whispered, and wrapped an arm over her stomach. "I just keep screwing up. How can I trust myself with this kid? I can't even trust myself to pick a decent partner."
"Look at it this way," Kim said. "You're a teacher. Dozens of parents entrust their impressionable youngsters to you for seven hours a day. If that's not a vote of confidence for your parenting skills, I don't know what is."
Her kindergartners were different; she could give them back and anyway she couldn't screw them up any worse than their parents had already managed. She said so, then added, "Kim, I don't... what if I screw it up? What if I mess up and this poor kid has to pay the price? I don't know if I could stand that."
Kim shrugged. "You know, my dad once said that if you don't screw your kid up just a little bit, then you're either a robot or a failure as a parent. So here's what I think. You're going to mess up. It's a given. But we're none of us perfect, and I think you're going to be better than most at this. Don't give up on yourself, Gail. One error in judgment does not damnation make."
In spite of herself, Gail smiled. "And if I kill Brad?"
"Then you'll have fixed your error," Kim said, serenely.
"Right," Gail said, and took a deep breath, and folded her hands over her abdomen. "So here's what I'm going to do. I can't cut him off entirely--" She shook her head when Kim opened her mouth. "Kim, much as I'd like to, he's still my baby's father, and I can't take that away. I won't make this kid grow up fatherless because of my grudge. But he doesn't get to come back this time. He doesn't get to apologize, he doesn't get to try and make it up to me. We're over. That's it."
"No more second chances?" Kim sounded faintly suspicious, but then, she had every right to be; Gail had said this before.
But she meant it this time. "No more second chances," she said, firmly.
"Good," Kim said. "Forgive me for saying so, honey, but it's about damn time."
"No apologies necessary," Gail said, ruefully. "I know I took way too long making up my mind about this. Thanks for not saying 'I told you so,' because God knows you did."
"Don't worry about it," Kim said, and patted her shoulder. "What are friends for, hey? No guarantee Cecily won't say it, though."
Gail grinned. "Oh, Cess. I've been her big sister for twenty-four years, I'm used to her."
"Good," Kim said, again. "Hey, tell you what, let's get out a movie with explosions in it and eat the rest of this ice cream while we watch it. I'm thinking Star Wars. Lots of explosions in Star Wars."
"Geek. Your husband won't mind?"
"Are you kidding?" Kim laughed. "You showing up gave him an excuse to go out drinking with the guys and watch the football game. He might love you forever for this."
Gail raised an eyebrow. "I hope not. I'm done with men. But yes, I'll stay."
"Great," Kim said, and hopped up to get the movie. She paused briefly by the tapes stacked atop her TV and added, "But you're not done with men, honey. Just this one."
Gail let that go unanswered. She'd made up her mind, anyway. Men or no men, she was done with Brad. No more second chances.
She'd given him enough of those.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 12 (eat), coffee 12 (frame), whipped cream (Ivy in utero), rainbow sprinkles (Gail and Kim).
Word Count: 1672
Rating: PG-13 for swearing. A lot of swearing.
Summary: Sometimes Gail just needs a friend, some ice cream, and elaborate plans for murder. Kim provides.
Notes: Well, if you thought you hated Ivy's biofather before...
"The son of a bitch," Gail spat, as soon as Kim opened the door, and barely managed not to burst into tears.
"Oh, honey," Kim said, sympathy loading her tone. "Come in, I'll get the ice cream."
Gail came in, ducked into Kim's pastel living room, and curled up on the pastel couch, wrapping herself around a pastel cushion and pressing her face against the armrest as Kim disappeared into the kitchen. She would not cry, she told herself, listening to the faint sounds of conversation. She would not.
Or at least, she amended, she would not cry until Kim's husband was gone. Some things you just didn't do.
Kim came back in, bearing two containers of ice cream and a spoon for each of them. "The mister's gone," she said, depositing the ice cream on the coffee table and sitting down next to Gail. "Tell me all about it."
"Fucking Brad," Gail said, which to her thinking said it all; hurrah for double entendres. She sat up a little more, and twisted to face her best friend. "Fucking Brad."
"I figured," Kim said, patting her arm gently. "I take it you told him?"
Gail nodded, and wiped away a few entirely unreasonable tears. "The son of a bitch called me a whore and told me I was trying to trap him. As if he was so irresistable. I don't fucking want to marry him. I didn't then, and I sure as hell don't now."
Kim's face had stiffened and gone remote as she listened; now, she shook her head. "He's a dead man," she said. "I mean that. He has but hours to live. Chocolate chip or avocado?"
"Ew," Gail said, and followed that up with, "Actually, avocado ice cream sounds good. As if I didn't already know I was pregnant."
"Stick with chocolate chip," Kim advised, handing over the relevant container, with a spoon balanced on top. "Avocado is an acquired taste, I think you'll find."
"I still can't believe they make avocado ice cream," Gail mumbled, popping her own container open. "I mean, of all the things to make ice cream out of."
Kim shrugged elaborately, and rearranged herself until she sat cross-legged, balancing the ice cream in her lap. "Go to California sometime. They put avocado in everything. Including sushi, which is a crime, and I like avocado. Now, about Brad... would you prefer an alibi or a shallow grave?"
"I want to kill him," Gail said, digging into the ice cream and imagining Brad's chest in its place. "I want him dead. Preferably messily."
"We can do that," Kim said, comfortingly. She scooped herself a spoonful and ate it, with every evidence of enjoyment, as Gail watched in a sort of bizarre fascination. "I know people. My mister knows people. We can make him die."
"Mm-hmm," Gail said emphatically, around her own spoonful of ice cream. "With a big dictionary, a fourth-story window and a garden hose?"
Kim considered that for a moment. "Sure," she said, finally. "I mean, it'd take some creativity, and I think I'd need a picture frame, too, but I am nothing if not creative. You think your sister would want to help?"
Cecily probably would, at that. "Yeah. She can bring the dictionary."
"Okay," Kim said. "You call her, and she can come over here, and then the three of us can go kill Brad. My mister'll give us an alibi, sure as anything. And then he'll be dead and out of your hair and you'll never have to think of him again."
Gail nodded, then put her spoon down and started to cry.
It was her particular curse that she had never been able to cry quietly or prettily. Maybe it was because she didn't cry often; she'd always been a pretty stoic kid, and she'd kept that into adulthood. Movies and books and national tragedies that left others in tears saw her dry-eyed and practical, thinking of what could be done next. She'd always valued that about herself.
But stoicism meant that when she did cry, it was hard and ugly, sobs shaking her chest and tearing her throat. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she could hold back the tears and the harsh sounds she was making, but it didn't help, it never helped, and it hurt so fucking much she could hardly breathe.
"Oh, honey." Kim's voice, soft and mournful, and Kim's hands easing the ice cream out of her lap so she could curl up more, and Kim's arms around her shoulders and Kim hugging her tight. "Go on and cry, honey. Everything's going to be all right. Cess and I can kill him dead for you."
"That's not really helping," Gail got out, around her sobs. "I was just hoping it would. Oh, God, Kim, it hurts so much!"
"I know," Kim said. "I know, I know."
"I wasted a year on him," Gail told her. It wouldn't stay in now, none of it would. "A whole fucking year. I thought... I thought... I don't know what I thought but it was so wrong, obviously, because he can't even trust me or respect me and I don't know what to do, I don't..."
Kim had been making little meaningless noises of agreement and acceptance; now she spoke up. "You'll do what you always do, honey, you'll get through. You're so good at that. And I'll be here, and Cess, and your other friends. We'll all be here for you."
"I want him to go away," Gail said, viciously, and bit back a fresh burst of tears. "God damn him, anyway. This is my kid's father?"
"Take it from me, honey," Kim said, patting her back. "DNA doesn't count for shit. It's where they grow up that matters, and any kid with you for a mom is going to turn out fine."
Gail snorted, and felt a sudden rush of bitterness. "Fat chance. I didn't even have the brains to see what an asshole Brad was. You'd think I'd have fucking noticed sooner."
Kim narrowed her eyes, then leaned back and nudged Gail in the ribs until she sat up enough to give Kim a good look at her face. "Is that what this is about?" she asked, her tone gentler than Gail would have expected given her expression. "Your... shall we call it a lapse in judgment?"
Maybe it was. "I fucked up so badly, Kim," she whispered, and wrapped an arm over her stomach. "I just keep screwing up. How can I trust myself with this kid? I can't even trust myself to pick a decent partner."
"Look at it this way," Kim said. "You're a teacher. Dozens of parents entrust their impressionable youngsters to you for seven hours a day. If that's not a vote of confidence for your parenting skills, I don't know what is."
Her kindergartners were different; she could give them back and anyway she couldn't screw them up any worse than their parents had already managed. She said so, then added, "Kim, I don't... what if I screw it up? What if I mess up and this poor kid has to pay the price? I don't know if I could stand that."
Kim shrugged. "You know, my dad once said that if you don't screw your kid up just a little bit, then you're either a robot or a failure as a parent. So here's what I think. You're going to mess up. It's a given. But we're none of us perfect, and I think you're going to be better than most at this. Don't give up on yourself, Gail. One error in judgment does not damnation make."
In spite of herself, Gail smiled. "And if I kill Brad?"
"Then you'll have fixed your error," Kim said, serenely.
"Right," Gail said, and took a deep breath, and folded her hands over her abdomen. "So here's what I'm going to do. I can't cut him off entirely--" She shook her head when Kim opened her mouth. "Kim, much as I'd like to, he's still my baby's father, and I can't take that away. I won't make this kid grow up fatherless because of my grudge. But he doesn't get to come back this time. He doesn't get to apologize, he doesn't get to try and make it up to me. We're over. That's it."
"No more second chances?" Kim sounded faintly suspicious, but then, she had every right to be; Gail had said this before.
But she meant it this time. "No more second chances," she said, firmly.
"Good," Kim said. "Forgive me for saying so, honey, but it's about damn time."
"No apologies necessary," Gail said, ruefully. "I know I took way too long making up my mind about this. Thanks for not saying 'I told you so,' because God knows you did."
"Don't worry about it," Kim said, and patted her shoulder. "What are friends for, hey? No guarantee Cecily won't say it, though."
Gail grinned. "Oh, Cess. I've been her big sister for twenty-four years, I'm used to her."
"Good," Kim said, again. "Hey, tell you what, let's get out a movie with explosions in it and eat the rest of this ice cream while we watch it. I'm thinking Star Wars. Lots of explosions in Star Wars."
"Geek. Your husband won't mind?"
"Are you kidding?" Kim laughed. "You showing up gave him an excuse to go out drinking with the guys and watch the football game. He might love you forever for this."
Gail raised an eyebrow. "I hope not. I'm done with men. But yes, I'll stay."
"Great," Kim said, and hopped up to get the movie. She paused briefly by the tapes stacked atop her TV and added, "But you're not done with men, honey. Just this one."
Gail let that go unanswered. She'd made up her mind, anyway. Men or no men, she was done with Brad. No more second chances.
She'd given him enough of those.
