011 - Memory
Title: Moonlight
Rating: K
Series: Jones
Characters: Terrence Jones
Prompt: 100 themes - 011 - Memory
Claimer: Mostly mine. But shared with SuperSpecialAwesome!Lori.
Authors Note: Mass uploading today. My apologies in advance.
Terrence can remember things that Parker can’t.
He can remember when Bella was alive, and they’d dance in the moonlight in the cemetery. At her insistence, that was where they’d dance, because “the moonlight looks so beautiful glinting off the headstones.”
He can remember the first time he got to hold his son. How tiny and beautiful he’d been, and how much joy he had been filled with when little eyes stared up at him, as if to challenge him, and how a little hand squeezed his finger tightly.
He can remember when Parker hadn’t hated him. But he could also remember when he had first said that he did. He’d been six years old, and Bella’s funeral had just concluded. Terrence had been holding his hand, introducing him to various people who came by to pay their respects. When the last of them had wandered away, presumably to go join the others at the wake, he’d asked Parker what he wanted to do now. The boy had looked up at him, soulful eyes completely empty of tears, and a scowl on his face.
“I hate you. Mama’s dead, and I hate you.”
Terrence didn’t cringe at the words, simply retrieved the boys skateboard from the back of the car and let him skate away amongst the headstones.
Terrence can remember things that Parker couldn’t.
He can remember the smell of apple and cherry pies as they cooled on the bench top. He could remember creeping through the kitchen on his knees, Parker on his back, the two of them rising up only when in front of the pie. Bella, smart woman she was, never let them get away with the dessert. Unless she’d made two for just that purpose. Parker had burnt himself once, trying to grab the ceramic dish. Bella had given Terrence such a dressing down for that, but it didn’t stop them, for the next week they did it again, Parker with a bandage around his hand.
He can remember the way the house had smelled. Everything had it, every room, every object, the clothing, the sheets, the front porch. Everything had smelled differently when Bella had been around. He still hasn’t found out whether it was her or the cleaning products she’d used that made it smell so wonderful. It’s the smell he misses most, aside from the woman herself-the house doesn’t feel anywhere near as homely now that the smell has changed.
He can remember the time Parker discovered he was named for a dead man that not Terrence nor Bella nor Adam had known. That had been before Bella’s death and thus before Parker had hated him. But oh, how mad the little boy had gotten. Terrence still has the mark on his shin, and has never bought Parker boots like those again.
Terrence can remember things that Parker can’t.
From the good things to the bad things, from Adam reading fairy tales, to Bella drinking a little too much wine and telling Parker rather explicitly how babies are born (and then about how, when and where he was conceived), to burns and scrapes and first steps and last kisses and new fish and dead fish and green dresses and blue jeans.
Terrence can remember it all, and waits patiently until Parker gets old enough to want to ask him to share.
(in the meantime, he has black high-heels and ivy-covered headstones in the moonlight)
Rating: K
Series: Jones
Characters: Terrence Jones
Prompt: 100 themes - 011 - Memory
Claimer: Mostly mine. But shared with SuperSpecialAwesome!Lori.
Authors Note: Mass uploading today. My apologies in advance.
Terrence can remember things that Parker can’t.
He can remember when Bella was alive, and they’d dance in the moonlight in the cemetery. At her insistence, that was where they’d dance, because “the moonlight looks so beautiful glinting off the headstones.”
He can remember the first time he got to hold his son. How tiny and beautiful he’d been, and how much joy he had been filled with when little eyes stared up at him, as if to challenge him, and how a little hand squeezed his finger tightly.
He can remember when Parker hadn’t hated him. But he could also remember when he had first said that he did. He’d been six years old, and Bella’s funeral had just concluded. Terrence had been holding his hand, introducing him to various people who came by to pay their respects. When the last of them had wandered away, presumably to go join the others at the wake, he’d asked Parker what he wanted to do now. The boy had looked up at him, soulful eyes completely empty of tears, and a scowl on his face.
“I hate you. Mama’s dead, and I hate you.”
Terrence didn’t cringe at the words, simply retrieved the boys skateboard from the back of the car and let him skate away amongst the headstones.
Terrence can remember things that Parker couldn’t.
He can remember the smell of apple and cherry pies as they cooled on the bench top. He could remember creeping through the kitchen on his knees, Parker on his back, the two of them rising up only when in front of the pie. Bella, smart woman she was, never let them get away with the dessert. Unless she’d made two for just that purpose. Parker had burnt himself once, trying to grab the ceramic dish. Bella had given Terrence such a dressing down for that, but it didn’t stop them, for the next week they did it again, Parker with a bandage around his hand.
He can remember the way the house had smelled. Everything had it, every room, every object, the clothing, the sheets, the front porch. Everything had smelled differently when Bella had been around. He still hasn’t found out whether it was her or the cleaning products she’d used that made it smell so wonderful. It’s the smell he misses most, aside from the woman herself-the house doesn’t feel anywhere near as homely now that the smell has changed.
He can remember the time Parker discovered he was named for a dead man that not Terrence nor Bella nor Adam had known. That had been before Bella’s death and thus before Parker had hated him. But oh, how mad the little boy had gotten. Terrence still has the mark on his shin, and has never bought Parker boots like those again.
Terrence can remember things that Parker can’t.
From the good things to the bad things, from Adam reading fairy tales, to Bella drinking a little too much wine and telling Parker rather explicitly how babies are born (and then about how, when and where he was conceived), to burns and scrapes and first steps and last kisses and new fish and dead fish and green dresses and blue jeans.
Terrence can remember it all, and waits patiently until Parker gets old enough to want to ask him to share.
(in the meantime, he has black high-heels and ivy-covered headstones in the moonlight)