2 little ficlets
Two new ficlets. I'm on an acceptance kick for some reason.
Friendship
Debbie Novotny wasn't the type of woman that Jennifer Taylor socialized with. Too bright wig and acrylic nails, ever present gum snapping, witty but inappropriate t-shirts, she was the antithesis of the country club set Jennifer had over for tea twice a week.
Jennifer remembers the first time they met; Debbie appeared on her doorstop with Michael and Justin in tow spouting off things like she always knew and not to ask are you. Overwhelmed by it all, Jen blinked and closed the door as quickly as she could because she wasn't ready to deal with this, and she certainly didn't want to take parenting advice from an off-colored stranger.
Months passed and nights "at Daphne's" became a simple "out." Curfews were ignored totally. Then, Craig found out and the relationship between father and son became more like kerosene and matches.
The first time that Jen appeared at the Liberty Diner, Deb dished out advice and tea in a cheap, ceramic mug. It was the advice--better than any self-help book or shrink could offer--that kept Jen coming back.
Deb's role in Jen's life changed for the final time one warm May night when Debbie called from Allegheny telling Jennifer in a quiet voice to get there as soon as possible.
After the bashing, Deb accepted Jen and Molly into her extended family as she had Justin all the months before. And, while Deb is a mother to all her "lost boys," to Jen, Debbie's one of the best friends she's ever had.
Denotation
When Brian was in the third grade, his mother enrolled him in Catechism classes. As his teacher, Ms. Ewert, droned on about love being patient and kind, Brian bit his lip to keep from calling her on her shit. In his house, it was neither of those things. By the time he was seven, Brian had grown to equate love with pain and patience with stale whiskey breath, bruises, and broken bones.
When Brian became a father, his denotation of both words changed.
Patience was spending his day off at his dining room table helping his son 'practice his letters' on a big chief tablet, building volcanoes, and helping his son solve for x.
Patience was sitting through forty first graders screeching The Star-Spangled Banner at the top of their lungs, the horrors of visiting the Big-Q three days before Christmas just so his kid can see "Santa," and explaining why Gus has two mommies and two daddies but they aren't matched up like his friend Caleb's are.
Brian does it all without raising his hand and while trying like hell not to raise his voice so that his son will never learn the definitions his parents taught him.
fanfic100: 59/100 [.083 And]
(Number two is from missyerable's pairing and prompt.)
Friendship
Debbie Novotny wasn't the type of woman that Jennifer Taylor socialized with. Too bright wig and acrylic nails, ever present gum snapping, witty but inappropriate t-shirts, she was the antithesis of the country club set Jennifer had over for tea twice a week.
Jennifer remembers the first time they met; Debbie appeared on her doorstop with Michael and Justin in tow spouting off things like she always knew and not to ask are you. Overwhelmed by it all, Jen blinked and closed the door as quickly as she could because she wasn't ready to deal with this, and she certainly didn't want to take parenting advice from an off-colored stranger.
Months passed and nights "at Daphne's" became a simple "out." Curfews were ignored totally. Then, Craig found out and the relationship between father and son became more like kerosene and matches.
The first time that Jen appeared at the Liberty Diner, Deb dished out advice and tea in a cheap, ceramic mug. It was the advice--better than any self-help book or shrink could offer--that kept Jen coming back.
Deb's role in Jen's life changed for the final time one warm May night when Debbie called from Allegheny telling Jennifer in a quiet voice to get there as soon as possible.
After the bashing, Deb accepted Jen and Molly into her extended family as she had Justin all the months before. And, while Deb is a mother to all her "lost boys," to Jen, Debbie's one of the best friends she's ever had.
Denotation
When Brian was in the third grade, his mother enrolled him in Catechism classes. As his teacher, Ms. Ewert, droned on about love being patient and kind, Brian bit his lip to keep from calling her on her shit. In his house, it was neither of those things. By the time he was seven, Brian had grown to equate love with pain and patience with stale whiskey breath, bruises, and broken bones.
When Brian became a father, his denotation of both words changed.
Patience was spending his day off at his dining room table helping his son 'practice his letters' on a big chief tablet, building volcanoes, and helping his son solve for x.
Patience was sitting through forty first graders screeching The Star-Spangled Banner at the top of their lungs, the horrors of visiting the Big-Q three days before Christmas just so his kid can see "Santa," and explaining why Gus has two mommies and two daddies but they aren't matched up like his friend Caleb's are.
Brian does it all without raising his hand and while trying like hell not to raise his voice so that his son will never learn the definitions his parents taught him.
fanfic100: 59/100 [.083 And]
(Number two is from missyerable's pairing and prompt.)