Room 511, Sunday Evening

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine loved her mother. Most of the time she was perfectly happy to love her mother from 1000 miles away, out of reach of the dating tips, the wardrobe critiques, and the sound of her parents fighting, except for holidays, letters, and the occasional phone call, but she did still love her mother. So, today being today, the evening found her

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[marieofsuburbia]

And lo, in Houston the call was picked up.

"Hello?" asked Marie. Actually, that wasn't entirely accurate: Marie did ask that, but not until after a spirited burst of "YipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipyipYIPYIPYIP!" from Muffins.

[thatsamilkshake]

Which for some reason made Francine laugh like it could drain out every last bit of the tension that she'd been carrying along this week. It was just so... home. "Hi, momma. Happy Mother's Day!"

[marieofsuburbia]

The yipping carried on, but from a distance; you could tell because it was quieter, but also more indignant.

"Francine!" The squeal of glee made up for the decrease in yippy volume. "Thank you, honey! I'm so glad you called!"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Well, of course I called, silly. As if I was going to forget." She totally forgot. Until she checked her e-mail and had to delete about fifteen spams from FTD.com.

[marieofsuburbia]

"Of course not," Marie agreed blithely in the manner of indulgent mothers who occasionally fail hard at objectivity when it comes to their children. "How did finals go?"

She hadn't asked about future med students yet, but give her time.

Say, a breath or two.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Finals were great! Not hard at all." Of course, one of them had consisted of 'bring in your favorite food' and the other was about one of her favorite things besides food, so yeah. "And summer workshops start tomorrow. I don't have a Monday one, though, so I can spend it moving my stuff down to the cabins."

[marieofsuburbia]

"Oooh, that's right, it's summer camp time again, isn't it?" There was not, in fact, an ominous musical sting right then, but there could have been. If there was a soundtrack here. "Any interesting new students? Any interesting students with future careers in medicine?"

Subtlety: the Peterses has it. Not.

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine snorted, because one of the few people whose subtext she had no trouble following was her mother. "Any interesting new boys, you mean?"

[marieofsuburbia]

"I meant people in general!" No, she hadn't, and even Muffins's barking in the background seemed to agree.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Uh huh. Well, in that case, yes! But they were all girls. I'm a Big Sister this summer, and my little sister is from Japan. And there was a girl from California and also this really pretty new girl--" Kind of intimidatingly pretty, really. "--who's friends with my boyfriend."

Tiny mean streak, about the size of a baby bunny. She wanted to count the seconds before Marie registered the last part.

[marieofsuburbia]

Could she count in fractions of a second?

". . . BOYFRIEND?!? Franciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

[marieofsuburbia]

"Tell me all about him," Marie said. Nay, positively babbled. "Oh, my little girl has a boyfriend! Happy Mother's Day to me!"

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine laughed, and couldn't for a moment think of why she hadn't called to tell her mother this sooner.

Oh wait, yeah, the endless parade of questions that was sure to follow. And the awkward meetings, and the embarrassing stories of things she'd done when she was four...

"Well, he's not a med student, that's for sure. He's kind of... uh. A valet?"

[marieofsuburbia]

Yes, shhhhh. That wasn't the sound of Marie flipping through the photo albums in preparation already.

"Not the kind that parks cars, honey?" Marie asked. No, not that photo, but this one . . . !

[thatsamilkshake]

No, the kind who's never even ridden in a car. "No, the butlery personal servant kind. Arthur, his boss, is a prince." That ought to distract from the lack of pre-meditude, at least.