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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years

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To Be So Lonely- Chapter 4

California Dreamin

Hi all! It has been ages, but at least one person is still interested, so nanny chapter ahoy! I gave this a revise and a quick read, so.... all mistakes, as ever, are mine!

Enjoy!

Harry didn't like to think of it as plotting.

He was just taking care of her. Right? She needed to relax. She ran herself ragged. We're all attorneys so dedicated? Admittedly, he didn't know a lot of lawyers, it didn't seem a career people were borne for, but if anybody was made to wear the wig, it was Vee. It was admirable, how hard she worked, how much she worked. She might be the most productive person he knew, that may also be because he came from academia. Some people published so fast your head spun, others, didn't. But Vee put the p in productivity. That's why she got the heavy cases, like the one she was coming off. Plus, when she got home, she tried to do as much as possible with the twins. She'd totally kicked him out of last week's wakings though she hasn't slept much.

"Go, I need time with my babies." With a hand wave and a look that brooked no argument, he was dismissed like a case she saw holes in from day one. He'd lingered, just a moment, to watch her scoop up Teo. Belli was still sleeping, but stirring from the noise. A swirl of her tummy with Vee's manicured hand, and she was out. Mateo was quiet now on her shoulder too now. Her beautiful hand splayed over his back at the moment. Harry had no idea when she had time to get her nails done. Maybe her Lunch hour? Though she came home then when she could. He knew it was devotion, to the babies, not her nails. That was probably required to look "professional." She must squeeze those in on the days she wasn't huddling home to see the twins, she loved them so, said it was worth it.

However, he suspected it was guilt as well over the case taking so much time, lots of late nights and missed bed times. She's worked herself to the bone, and he knew better than to mention the dark circles bruised beneath her eyes. He still saw them though. So he'd called his uncle, his pseudo uncle, and got them the place. Even promised he'd help pay for the trip James and his family had take last minute so Harry, Vee and the babies could be alone.

"With what?" His uncle chuckled. "I Know your da tied up your trust fund because you aren't doing an MBA!"

"I'm thirty. I can make my own decisions." Harry insisted. And if that meant he had to pay his own way, that was a learning experience, real adulting too. He told himself everyday he worked to go back to school, and now just did because he couldn't imagine not, that this was the way it was supposed to be. His life hadn't been Normal. Even compared to the other students on his Ivy League program with him.

"You can, but you have to then pay your own way." He could hear the shrug, and the pride. It's why his Dad's best friend was his favorite. Harry knew he sided with him. "But, enough of the tough love stuff. On to the real thing. Why do we have to make ourselves scarce? Something going on?" He left the insinuation heavy in his voice.

"No, C'mon man. She's my boss. She just needs a break. Case has been a killer. And then she's always trying to be super mum when she's home too and not let me do night duty." Harry rolled his eyes like James could see him.

His uncle whistled, "She must be a looker, if you're talking like a husband not the help."

Harry scoffed without any control. The help. Ouch. He didn't feel like help, he felt, needed. "Fuck off. It's not like that. It's professional. She doesnt see me like that anyway. Not her type."

"Oh, I see, that why she did a donor dad? She like ladies?" Harry honestly couldn't tell if he was taking the piss, plus he wanted to give a social justice rant, but knew his Uncle was more messing with him than bigoted, he hoped.

"No! No, least I don't think so?" She wasn't, was she? "Not that it would matter if she was." He protested. He honestly could not tell why it bothered him.

"Oh, quite." James was still amused and Harry was going to make more heavy weather of it, but Harry decided to ignore his uncles tone and teasing.

"James?" He cajoled.

"So, daddy," he'd even ignore the occasional dig, he was glad his uncle couldn't see his lip curl, and that he got back to brass tacks. "What dates are we being kicked about?"

"In two weeks for two weeks." Harry was looking at the calendar she had of Selena to see how she'd marked it. Everything went into calendars, paper ones. Even though their google one synced to her iPhone. Victoria needed the order, she was so busy. The Selena calendar was just a nod to the other part of her, that wasn't run by a clock and schedule. She loved Selena.

He'd discovered this by accident.

She was so cute when she was unguarded. He was sure that he never would have found out the personal morsel if she hadn't been super stressed and decided to dance it out. She hadn't been expecting him home, he could tell that for sure, she had a red dress on, for the occasion he supposed, though her hair was still up in the mom bun her long tresses were usually scraped up into, and she was barefooted. The dress and her feet were making the most of the Latin beat. Harry was sure he would have watched for quite a while longer had she not performed an impressive turn and opened her eyes to sing "bidi bidi bum bum." He assumed she was looking to use the microwave as a mirror. Give her self a wink maybe.

He couldn't dance, but watching her made him want to learn.

"Ayyy!" She placed her hand over her heart. "Por favor Harry! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

" I didn't mean to!" He proclaimed. "The kiddos," he gestured to the dowsing twins in their Bob double stroller. "Were just done with the park. You ok now?" He was suppressing his mirth, it's not like he caught her with her hand in a cookie jar.

"Yeah, yeah, my heart rate is back to normal." He wasn't sure that was true, her breath was still rapid. "Put those dimples away!"

"There are no dimples." He tried to make his face as flat as the pancakes the kids liked from a Trader Joe's. He knew his face was probably betraying him. That muscular defect showed unless his face was truly neutral, and he was definitely engaged, amused.

"Stop laughing at me!" She glowered. Oh! Her flush was lovely.

He finally just burst out, with the ridiculous laugh, the one that was like a opening shot at the races.

Vee was certainly off. She dissolved into giggles too. And then they were laughing together until they were just looking at one another. Harry let the dimples bloom fully then, Couldn't help it, really.

Victoria took a big breath, notched her chin back and forth an inch or two, and said, "Pardon, I'm gonna go change."

"Dress is pretty." He let slip. She shot him a warning look, but she was smiling, so he felt the need to push a bit more. "A little formal for nap time." Her flipped up middle finger as she rounded the hallway entrance made him snicker. He controlled it so he didn't hear that tone she used on the phone some times. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that, he didn't think.

He'd been clicking a button on Amazon a moment later on the Selena calendar. Well, after he googled the lyrics to figure out who she had been dancing to. Then he remembered another little detail they'd need in the beach house.

"Oh, set up the crib!" The babies could have the third bedroom. Between him and Vee, so they could share duties. She needed rest. He was gonna try to slyly make sure he took the first night shift. She'd want to hear them, and he was sure he couldn't pull it past her if he put them on one end and her on another.

James laughed. "Jesus, should I also call the chef?" He was joking. Harry wasn't.

"Yeah, at least give me the number. She doesn't cook. Maybe buy a second crib."

"Do you cook then?" His uncle could barely keep the mirth from frothing over.

"Yeah, when she works late. So she doesn't have to eat out all day." Where was the shame in being kind?

"Oh, Harry, you better hope she's a looker and does like men, cuz if you aren't gunning for daddy, you are most certainly the help." He wasn't even trying to hide the cackle.

The help? That smarted like a slap across the ass cheek, though it was definitely unreasonable to be bothered. "Well, I am the nanny. And I definitely try to be helpful."

"Yes, employee of the month." James kept laughing at Harry while they said their goodbyes. He could hear the snickers and was sure he would be telling Jules the moment they got off then phone.

He'd got off the phone and thought about whether he was the help for ages. Railing against the insinuation.

Then accepting it, of course he was the help! He was hired help. Must be his upbringing that was showing in his annoyance at the term. He'd need to work on that. Get over himself and his privilege.

And be the best damn help he could be.

The alternative as to why he was so bothered, he couldn't think about that. Or James's ideas about his design on daddy. Though his mind did a little wander down that trail.

Gunning for daddy, how ridiculous! He just appreciated her, respected her, liked her. He tried to make her life better, like she did him, dancing to Selena and smiling and such.

Shit.

Or giving him a job and gifting him with time with her enchanting, infuriating babies. That was where his locus of gratitude was, right? Not for the chance to be close to her.

He decided to distract himself from surfacing realizations. So he dove into planning.

He thought about his own time there, and did some googling. At first he was thinking they'd just sit on the beach a ton, he'd spent hours staring at the waves like he'd once inhabited the waters and they were calling him home. When he thought more of it, he realized that was what Vee needed, but she'd bail by day three if laying about was the only plan. They'd have to get into something else too. He reckoned outside, with sunshine, and something physical.

Hiking, once she got sick of the beach, or pool, or both. That would do the trick.

This was going to be so relaxing. He wondered if they could take the twins hiking? He was researching back pack carriers when she came home.

"Do you like hiking?" He asked immediately after he said hi. He had to restrain himself from kissing her cheek hello while he scrolled through his phone.

He'd ask himself what was going on, but it would be a lie. He'd kinda known, that he was feeling at the very least familial towards her, but ever since his Uncle razed him about liking her, he was much more aware of it.

Ignorance really could be bliss. Because he was now aware of what he was missing and his subterranean wants. It had started normally, with no romantic inclinations. When he'd come for his interview, she'd impressed him, and she'd looked really tired. But pretty, really pretty, and she had made some gorgeous kids. She could use him, his help, and he could learn from her. He just knew it.

Then his crush has sort of just grown in the background, like the tomato plant his mum had growing up. He was sure it took tending, but he never saw any take place. His only memory of it was when he was forced to help build the raised bed, and picking fat green caterpillars off of it once until he put one in his sister's hair, he was off tomato duty then. After that, all he recalled was being overwhelmed by the hordes of red ripe fruit that came from it when the sun was high. He supposed he'd had a foundational moment he didn't recognize during his interview either.

Partly, he remembered really wanting this job, to help and support this family, this woman. So he supposed his level of engagement was different even in the first stage, a compulsion, just not parental.

He didn't do much tending, not to his budding crush, but he supposed when he caught her dancing and not only was moved by her hips but couldn't help but notice her lively eyes and her vanished dark circles, was some sort of middle stage.

Today, getting off the phone with his uncle was seeing all the fruit of the labor he wasn't even aware he was doing. He'd been tending and tilling, spacing and watering, nurturing his interest.

Now he just had to decide what to do about it.

Option one, ignore it, and they continue living as they have been. Like some version of a family; they're certainly a team, but one where he is the impermanent piece, like the quarterback about to graduate onto new things. Harry doesn't want new things, well he doesn't think so. He's fairly certain he wants this team, Vee as his coach and the twins as the freshman walk ons. He's just not sure how to get it.

So, option one seems no good. He doesn't want to just pretend he hasn't realized his feelings. He's known since day one he admired Vee, adored the twins. He still felt those things, they'd just deepened and he wanted to put their needs right before his own for the foreseeable future. Which was why he'd once again delayed going back to school. Another extension. He'd told himself it was about the money, and he did need that, but really he wasn't ready to be here less.

Option two, he's direct. He's imagined that scenario in his head. The setting as the living room they share. He can tell they've just gotten back, their cheeks sun kissed by the California sun, and their suitcases still full in the living area.

"Vee, have a seat. It's been a long day. Want some wine?" Should you be able to hear the nerves in your voice in a daydream?

"Yes please." She'd sigh. And he'd only heard that like twice when he made this offer in real life, so further proof he was imagining best case scenario. After a few sips, he can imagine he'd get caught up watching her relax and be mesmerized by the working of her throat. It would take courage, but she'd be relaxed and he'd be keyed up by the two weeks of her in swimsuits and watching her lick the rim of her wine glass with her eyes closed. Sometimes excitement was related to bravery.

"Vee," he'd start, "Victoria," so she'd know he was serious. Her eyes would open, connect to his. Then, he'd just say it.

But what? I'd like to take you out. I think I have feelings for you. No. I do have feelings for you. Should I just move into your bedroom? What does your kiss taste like?

He had no idea how to tell her his heart, and that seemed like an odd place to start considering they basically lived together. Shit, would she fire him? He needed the job, and the twins, oh god! He'd miss them so.

He couldn't come out of left field then. He'd need to feel her out, flirt, watch for reactions. Malibu seemed like an ideal place to move beyond the support he showed her. The sunsets and skin had to be romantic. It felt romantic to him when he was there alone, the feeling would magnify with a love interest. He'd roll his eyes at himself if he could see his reflection. He just had to see if he was interesting to her, on her romantic radar. If she seemed bewildered or put off, he'd save his job and let his feelings fester, save money and go back to school. Try to move on.

He'd have to find a way to stay in touch with the twins.

Or, she'd be receptive.

That might have been a scarier thought. More exciting too! He'd start sooner. A glass of wine, he'd let his hand linger when he handed it to him.

But she'd just begged off for her bed. "You're so charming, Styles!" He'd teased himself as he went to bed, well tossed and turned all night. He'd needed mountains of iced coffee to stay awake the next day on their flights, the babies were cranky too. They must be feeding off his energy, and Hers. Vee looked wiped as well, so every time he got himself a refresh, he got her one too. Everything took forever, and he was vibrating by the time they picked up their rental. The babies were slowly fading and Vee looked more keyed up than him. They needed to relax, a way to unwind.

That's when the idea sparked him. The pool, the sunset, and a night cap that he could extend into drinks. All the makings of a romantic evening, or a relaxing one. He'd just lean into whatever way she seemed to be veering.

His imagination had hoped though, as he distracted himself from waiting for service in the line.

He started with thoughts of kissing her, tasting the cool water beading on her lips and the contrast of the warm recesses of her mouth. He might have groaned out loud if Belli hadn't whined.

The traffic was a welcome distraction from his nerves and though he knew the way, Vee drove and it took just that bit longer for her lack of familiarity. Especially with traffic. He offered to do it, but she'd got the rental, at her insístanle since he'd put so much work into the trip and found free accommodations. Her name was on it. "You get to play navigator, and she'd found the energy to wink!

Good sign?

The drive knocked out the crank pots in the backseat, though they had screamed until the Mulholland Pass. Until Harry realized the sun was in their eyes directly. He'd hopped over the seats and blocked it with his hands. It wasn't comfortable, but got took away the overstimuli for all the occupants of the car. Once they pass out, he and Vee shared a relieved pair of sighs. That got his mind wandering again, about other shared exhales. Soon they were pulling up the familiar beach side road and parking, each taking a baby in hand and communicating with their eyes to get them in the house.

Once Teo was in his crib, Harry cocked his head to the driveway and moved behind her. She nodded, understanding he'd unload the car while she settled Belli. She was the hard case. Harry tried to be businesslike about it, though he admitted the brush of his front to her back was more than accidental plus, he sniffed her, inaudible. She smelled of plane, and baby, and coffee. And Vee. He smiled on his way out the doorway and it encouraged him, how well they did this together.

He dropped the bags, the many bags, she'd packed just inside her door and was in his room and rooting for the swim trunks he'd packed on top before he knew it. He text her directions to meet him out back and went before his nerves could get the best of him.

Did she like tattoos? Would they turn her off? She knew about his arms, he was fairly certain he'd been wearing a t shirt at his interview. His collection was extensive though. Eye-catching, in his experience with romantic interests, usually compelling. Unless she hated body art.

Too late to do anything now, years late, and since when was he self conscious, especially about his tattoos.

He needed to get a move on if he was gonna be ready for her. He thought he knew James, well, in this case Julia, well enough that they'd have what he was looking for, probably already chilled.

He found the Moët and grabbed the glasses by the stem and huddled outside. The gorgeous weather wrapped around him, more comfortable than any sweater and the water enveloped his thighs. If she came out soon, hopefully in a suit. They'd just catch the sunset. Her skin would look so pretty in the golden light, and then moon light, probably any light. Still, he was going to keep track of her changes. He tanned well, he could show imagine how tawny she would get. His confidence was returning with his plan working out so well and his desires so near the surface. Should he pour the champagne, or would the bottle popping be a nice official start to the vacation? He was mulling it over waist deep in the water when her voice caught his attention.

"Dios Mío!" He heard from over his shoulder, and when he looked back, he would have said the same but it had little to do with the sunset he assumed she was marvelling over and everything to do with Vee.

He nearly forgot the champagne and cavemanned her over his shoulder and straight into where he was in over his head.

But that was overly forward. He at least needed to get her wet before he dove into the deep end.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tbsl #to be so lonely #nanny fic #chapter 4

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momtemplative · 4 years

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Once Upon a Time.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there lived a Grammy and a Grampy who lived in a wonderful house in Boulder, Colorado. Two young girls, who happen to also be my kids, would come to visit them every Wednesday afternoon. Grammy would meet them at the front door with big hugs and their favorite lemonade in the fridge and their favorite snacks and fruit in bowls on the table. Their mom, who happens to be me, would then go to work massaging old people and then have the rest of the night to herself, time she would fill with heavenly kid-free activities—she would often see a movie in the theater or meet a friend for a drink, or maybe have an acupuncture appointment or hit the library for some writing. Such luxuries! Their dad would bring the girls home and put them to bed, and it would all seem so balanced and beneficial for everyone.

Then, abruptly, most of the parts of that simple paragraph were no more, as are most of the parts of many of the paragraphs for most people. No Grammy and Grampy’s house. No old people to massage. No movie in the theater or friends to chat with in-person or acupuncture or library. Two months later, we ask ourselves, is this the new normal?

Last week, I visited my in-laws for the first time since early March. Opal (she already visited them the previous week with Jesse) and I drove to their house in North Boulder, parked on the street out front, and sat on the sidewalk next to my car, using it for shade. It was toasty in the sun. The maple tree in their front yard still had no leaves to soften the emboldened springtime rays. Grammy brought a chair out into the yard that looked like it belonged in the lobby of a haunted hotel, wooden and upholstered—a benign artifact when out in the light of day. She plopped down. She mentioned the warmth a number of times, while wearing a thick yellow sweater, dark pants and heavy, black shoes.

Opal pulled her booster seat from the car and used it as a pseudo-stool while I sat on the sidewalk with my legs in a V (while Opal concerned herself with the red ants circling my bare knees). We joked that if this went on for much longer, we’d have to equip ourselves with more advanced accouterments for front yard hang-time. I just read about how people are now starting to use masks as a form of boutique expression—sewing sequins and affixing the fabric with dried flowers, like facial art. COVID lawn furniture could be the same: custom-made social distancing party goods—fancy awnings with RV lights, swanky travel chairs and shag-carpet lawn rugs. Kanye could develop his own line. There could be catalogues to order from.

For now, though, the front yard presented more classic, minimalistic furnishings. Grammy brought us a plate of fresh cookies and placed them at the halfway point between us on the lawn. Then she returned to her chair to sit down. I got up and put the goods in my front seat. Then, a moment later, Grammy remembered a few more things. She disappeared into the house, returned, and placed a bag of spicy chips from Trader Joes and a loaf of fresh local sourdough bread at the halfway point, and sat down again.

Nothing like this can happen with Ruth in the equation. She’s four. She would block, slow and question every minuscule action with a sort of stop-motion interrogation. Why are you doing it like that? Why does it look like this? Why is everyone acting so weird?

Ruth hasn’t seen her grandparents since early March. She doesn’t understand social distancing and masks are for Halloween. As for hand washing, well, she still picks her nose constantly. So we’ve kept her visits to video chats only.

While at Grammy and Grampy’s, our time went on like this, with Grammy dropping off merchandise for us in the yard before our very eyes, at least five times, like a part of some wonderful off-tempo choreography. We laughed and chatted as it went. When Grampy came too close with the oranges for Opal, she said— “Freeze! Leave them there on the grass please and my mom will pick them up.”

To that, all the grown-ups shared a sweet, impressed look. My expression said: Wow, the ten-year-old has more confidence and command around protocols then the cotton-picking president.

All the while, bees circled the hundreds of dandelions; they’d land, relocate, land, and relocate. The peony bush just began to launch forth. I know what glamorous blossoms it will grow up to have—soft pink ruffles like a doll dress growing upwards. But for now, it had a dozen stalks with finger leaves reaching, unabashedly, for nourishment.

Tiny purple flowers peppered the lawn, less like the star of the show and more like shading for a backdrop. Opal picked one and handed it to me, and it struck me as a tiny cluster of purple balloons.

I considered for a moment what kind of fairytale world would support a tiny purple balloon cluster. Then, Grammy sat down another pile of goods for us on the lawn. This batch was arts and crafts to take home for the girls to play with, together, and without her.

Everyone is doing the Grandparent Experience differently. It’s a supremely individual thing. Some friends have grandparents living in the same house with them and their children. Some friends continued to visit with grandparents, even as the other compartments of their social lives shut down. Some, like us, agreed with the grandparents on the importance of keeping our distance. (My parents live in Ohio, 2,000 miles down the road, so distance is built in to the equation. Insert sigh here.*)

Our little family-of-four has, for the last eight weeks, spent the lion share of our time in the house. We are (presumably) not little fleshy vectors of contagion. Hell, we are more pristine and untouched by the outside world as we have ever been or likely ever will be. Even if Ruth cannot keep her distance (or her fingers out of her nose), now seems to be a pocket of time when the stars are aligned for us to be the safest to come in contact with.

Add on the fact that Trump is determined to ‘liberate’ the world—May 1 was his target date—and that many local businesses are lighting their OPEN signs (though I don’t plan to get a haircut anytime soon), it does seems like the next conversation to be had is, when’s the grandparent party and who’s bringing the sangria?

I checked in with the oracle of the internet to see if I was on the same page as the rest of the country. But, as per usual for the duration of this craziness, I found myself searching for answers from a vacuum of uninformative noise. I keep hearing, “Let the states decide,” but there is nothing from Polis except that he is joining the republican governors to reopen many non-essential businesses, and that he has a plan. There was much written about taking precautions with grandparents at the beginning of the story, back in March. Lifetimes ago.

The only thing I could find that has been posted since March (and it’s May!) was an excerpt from a larger article from April 21, from a website called CNET. (—?) Two small paragraphs about visiting the elderly—“While the decision to hang out with your grandparents is a personal one to be made by your family, just remember that these are the people who are most at risk at developing a serious and potentially fatal illness if infected with the novel coronavirus.” Buzzkill.

A few things to consider:

1. We could all be silent carriers. From the Associated Press: “A flood of new research suggests that far more people have had the coronavirus without any symptoms, which means it’s impossible to know who around you may be contagious. That complicates decisions about returning to work, school and normal life.”

2. With the impending re-opening of businesses and retailers, comes more exposure for all of us. Flash forward to fall, when schools start again and the kids are on top of one another, we’ll be much more likely to be silent (or loud) carriers than we are now. What this all says to me is, we better get on with it! Knowing full well that we will likely need to dial back the interactions and reinforce more social distancing come fall and the presumed second wave.

3. It’s been proven that the virus is much more likely to be contracted while inside, and that outside is a much safer option for (socially distant) meeting. Seems obvious but good to consider. And thank god it’s spring.

The conversation across my in-laws’ lawn veered in numerous directions. It was the most satisfying of small-talk bits, precious little morsels that, during a typical era, would have likely gone overlooked. We were catching up, which is something you don’t typically have a chance to do with local family. (Also to be noted, we were without the fantastic but impressively distracting Ruth.)

Grammy asked if she could come and park on our street and watch the girls play in the front yard from her car.

Grampy said, “Yea, I wonder when we can start doing Wednesdays again. I miss Wednesdays.” Then, he rolled down the driveway on his bike, a white scarf around his face that, with the shades, made him look like an outlaw.

“Soon,” I said. “Hopefully, soon.”

#momtemplative #mindfulparenting #COVIDwords #onceuponatime

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voidfishaquarium · 6 years

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Lup claims she can remember their parents, but Taako is convinced she’s making it up.

She makes this claim the first time when they are barely old enough to read, and still living with their grandparents. Lup takes to the reading a little quicker than Taako does, and makes a habit of reading aloud to him from the books they find in their grandfather’s study. One evening she finds one with a name scrawled on the inside cover, stares at it for too long. She’s cross-legged on the rug, the open book taking up the whole of her small lap.

“That’s mom’s name,” she says, pointing at it.

Taako, lying on his back by her feet as he waits for a story, sits up and looks at the name with mild interest.

“Huh. Yeah,” he says, and lays back down.

“She had pretty eyes,” Lup continues, still staring. “And long hair.”

“How’d you know that?” Taako asks. He’s curious now, because it’s rare for any of the grown-ups in the family to talk about Lup and Taako’s parents.

“I just remember it,” Lup says.

Taako frowns, skeptical. “No you don’t. We were too little.”

“Yes I do,” she replies, and gets back to reading.

The arrangement with their grandparents does not last long. After some shuffling around to various homes, they end up with an aunt and uncle and two older cousins. Lup is excited about sharing the house with other kids, for a day or two, until it becomes apparent that the cousins do not feel the same way. The older one, Kaba, complains constantly that the twins are too loud, that they take up too much space; the younger one, Meera, is fond of snatching books out of Lup’s hands whenever she’s reading. Taako starts strategically stealing things from both of them - pens, buttons, shoelaces, single socks - and hiding them under the floorboards.

After a couple of years, they are handed off to a great-uncle with a farm; they’re a bit older now, just big enough to help out with the chores. Neither of them are particularly pleased to discover that this is the main reason they’re here, but it’s a roof, and at least some of the animals are charming. Taako particularly likes the horses.

“Dad liked horses, too,” Lup says, nonchalant, leaning against the barn door and watching as he brushes a white mare. He looks up and frowns - it’s been a while since the last time she dropped a random parent fact.

“That another memory?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure you didn’t dream it?”

Lup snorts. “I didn’t dream it, dingus. I remember.”

Taako doesn’t argue, but he also doesn’t make up his mind about whether he believes her or not. She’s only a minute older than he is - whatever she remembers, he should remember, too. He wonders if there’s something wrong with him, or if she’s somehow cheating.

The next year, after a good crop allows their great-uncle the money to hire older, sturdier hands to help out with chores, they spend a few months shuffling between relatives again. An older cousin with a closet full of shiny dresses that they run their hands over, giggling, when she isn’t looking. A distant uncle who works as a traveling salesman and constantly forgets to feed them, but they can fend for themselves well enough. Taako likes the traveling, seeing different towns, and he likes the way the uncle talks, casually confident.

“The secret to sales,” he says one evening, half-drunk and jolly, touseling Taako’s hair, “is to remember you’re really selling yourself. It’s all about charm.” Taako is a bit disappointed, at first, when the man drops them off with his mother. A distant great-aunt, half-human, grey-haired, living alone in a cottage, seems like a downgrade. But Lup takes to Auntie immediately, and it’s hard not to love someone his sister loves.

Unlike her son, Auntie never forgets about food. She spends hours in the kitchen, filling the house with the smell of baking cookies or sizzling bacon. She notices Taako skulking in the doorway, watching, and waves him in to join her. He’s nervous, unused to the sensation of an adult beckoning him closer instead of shooing him away.

“Come on up,” she says, pulling over a stool for him to stand on so he can reach the counter. “You can help chop the vegetables.”

They stay with Auntie longer than they’ve stayed with anyone else, and it is a small heaven. It’s always warm, and there is always more than enough to eat. Auntie seems happy to have people around to feed, to teach, to talk to. The three of them together in the kitchen, chatting and laughing as they cook and bake and taste, these are sacred moments. Taako doesn’t trust the concept of home - his sister has always been home, it’s never been a place. But in these moments, it almost feels like it could be.

“When do you think we’ll move somewhere else?” he asks Lup one night, from the bottom bunk of their bed.

Her voice comes out of the darkness above him.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe never?”

Taako hums softly and replies, in what he hopes is a casual voice: “That’d be cool.”

Auntie dies three years later, softly, in her sleep. Lup, taller now but still not quite a teen, finds her and can’t wake her, feels that she’s gone cold. Taako holds his sister for several hours while she cries; later, she helps him copy down all of Auntie’s recipes, before the adults arrive and start going through her things. The cleric who visits says there’s nothing anyone could have done. Auntie’s heart was shaped just slightly wrong, and she lived much longer with it than he would have expected. But at her funeral, Taako hears whispers that maybe “taking in those twins” was bad luck, and Lup reports that while hiding in the coat rack (where she stole absolutely everything out of cousin Kaba and Meera’s pockets) she overheard talk of orphanages.

“Little bro,” she says, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “I think it’s about time to bounce.”

There are a lot of cold nights, at the start. In cities, they end up curled tightly together, huddled in doorways against the wind; on the road between towns, they collect firewood and Lup starts fires with stolen flint to keep warm. It always takes several tries, a lot of muttering and cursing, and she swears she’s going to find an easier way to do this eventually.

And this is when Taako starts asking her for more memories, for anything she knows about their parents. Their favorite foods, what they did for fun, what kinds of decorations they had hanging on their walls. It’s a distraction from the cold, and he’s not worried anymore about whether it’s real or not. He just wants to imagine it.

“What did they look like?” he asks one night, and she bites her lip.

“Tall,” she says.

“That’s obvious.”

“Mom had green eyes.”

“Like what kind of green?” he presses, while scooting closer against her. “Like grass, or limes, or…”

“Emeralds,” Lup replies, and Taako tries to think back to whether or not he’s ever seen an emerald before. He imagines eyes that sparkle, a face that won’t materialize fully in his mind’s eye, but he knows it’s smiling.

They stumble into a method of survival by accident. A travelling circus rolls into the town they’re in for the night, sets up camp, and the original plan is to steal a few bites from the food cart where they’re selling concessions. But they find the cart being run by a haggard old dwarf who has no idea that there’s a difference between macaroons and macarons - as evidenced by the angry customer in the window who’s allergic to coconuts - and Taako seizes an opportunity. He remembers the advice, “you’re really selling yourself,” and turns on the charm.

“My man, you are doing a fantastic job with the customer service,” he says, walking up to the window and trying on a confidence he doesn’t quite feel yet. “But it seems like this baking and cooking thing, it’s not quite your passion, am I right?”

The dwarf sighs and says he’s actually a juggler, a very good juggler, but their cook quit, and someone needs to feed the crowd, and he’s gotten stuck with it. Taako looks back at Lup over his shoulder and grins.

“You know, I really think you should be performing, my dude,” he says. “That crowd needs to see your skills, they are missing out on the best juggling spectacle of their lives. And my sister and I...we can definitely take care of the cooking.”

Everything unrolls from there. Taako’s sweet-talking finds the opportunities, his even sweeter recipes seal the deal, and Lup’s sharp savvy takes care of the details - makes sure they’re given fair compensation, helps procure all the necessary ingredients for the menus, scares off the people who want to take advantage of them. She helps with the cooking, too, but Taako is the one whose heart is in it. It’s not a luxurious life, constantly on the move, packing and unpacking, covered in the dust of the road, but it has its moments. Some of the acrobats let Taako try on their sequined garments, teach him a few simple tricks, and he falls in love; Lup sits enraptured watching the fire-dancers as they move between flames and whispers to Taako, “I’m gonna do that.”

The circus is seasonal, but they find other caravans: traders, mercenaries, explorers. Everyone needs to eat. Lup trades and borrows books in every town they pass through - books of recipes, books of spells - and resumes her old habit of reading them out loud to Taako as he preps meals and cleans dishes. They don’t have space to keep them, so they all have to be memorized. Lup learns how to start fires with the snap of her fingers, and Taako learns how to transmute parsley into saffron, apples into pomegranates. They save up money, slowly, because while Taako’s good with continuing the travelling cook lifestyle, Lup insists that eventually they should really go to school.

They get older, taller, smarter. They reach a point where people don’t call them kids anymore, even though they both know they still are - they just hide it well.

“Hey, Lulu?” Taako asks one night, interrupting her reading. She’s sitting cross-legged by the fire, book open in her lap, while he lies on a blanket by her feet, staring up at the stars.

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking...I mean, we are kinda crushing it lately, natch, and the fritters I made yesterday were basically the best thing any of these lot have ever tasted, and all that, but like...it’s not exactly what people have in mind when they pop out a kid, probably...”

“What’re you trying to ask?” she presses, closing the book, and he sighs.

“Mom and dad,” he replies, propping himself up on one elbow. “You think they’d be okay with what we’re up to? I mean, I don’t know if you remember any...”

Lup bites her lip, doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He sits up fully now, knowing something’s wrong.

“What?” he asks.

“I just...I guess we’re older now, and I...Taako, I’m really sorry,” she says, fidgeting.

“Sorry for what?”

“I don’t...I don’t actually remember them,” she admits, finally. “I mean, I thought I did, when we were really young. But I realized I was just...I was imagining it. I had seen a picture of them, once, and I made it come to life in my mind, I think, and then you asked if I dreamed it and I just really wanted it to be real…and then later, I knew I was making it up, but you really liked it. It made you happy. It was real for you. And I was gonna tell you when you got older…”

Taako is silent for a moment, and then he laughs.

“I knew it,” he says. “I knew your memory wasn’t that much better than mine!”

Lup looks baffled and guilty, and Taako gets up, sits next to her and hugs her.

“I get it, you were lookin’ out,” he says. “That’s okay. I mean, I’m defo gonna rag you about it for like, several weeks at least, but it’s alright.”

“That’s fair,” she says, and smiles. “It’s better if we make it up, anyway, right? I mean, we can say they were legendary heroes or famous actors or anything we want, really. They could have been anything.”

“Listen, the famous and legendary ones are gonna be us,” he replies. “And I don’t need the made-up memories anymore, yeah? I got real ones.”

“Of what?”

“You, doofus,” he says, rolling his eyes and elbowing her in the ribs. “Not gonna forget that.”

“You better not,” she replies, and wraps an arm around him.

It’s warm, there by the fire, beneath the stars, the two of them together. They’re home.

#the adventure zone #taz #taz balance #taako #lup #taz fic #I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHY I'M LIKE THIS #I ONLY WRITE SAD CHILDHOOD FICS APPARENTLY #why is this my wheelhouse #also forgive me if it's bad this is my first taz fic

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crazyfitnessguy · 6 years

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How To Own Healthy Teenage Lifestyle Tips For Free

Teenagers Can Be Picky About Eating Healthy

Remember when were teenagers giving our parents a difficult time about eating healthy? I know that I do. Teenagers come up with lame excuses to not eat healthily. Here are some examples: too expensive can't eat healthy in school my friends won't like me if I don't eat junk food Today's post is about healthy teenage lifestyle tips. Teenagers these days need to learn how to have a balanced diet because the food that they eat now is filled with way too many preservatives, which are bad for you and your body.

My Bad Eating Habits When I Was A Teenager

Believe it or not, I use to eat quite a lot of junk food for lunch at school when I was a teenager. I use to drink all the soda in the world and all of the junk food that everyone loves. Here are some examples of the types of food that I ate for lunch at school. Pizza, nachos with cheese sauce, Pop Tarts, Tasty Cakes, french fries, fried chicken, and those awful school sandwiches that you hope that it wasn't roadkill on a bun. What did I use to drink? I use to drink all kinds of soda and Snapple.

How I Avoided Eating Healthy Disclaimer: if you are about to eat lunch please do not read this part of this post until you are done. You may lose your appetite. When my parents packed me a bagged lunch in school I usually just threw these lunches in my locker. So I bought my lunch instead. That's when I start buying all of those unhealthy lunches like pizza etc. By the end of the school year, those lunches were found in my locker with bugs and flies and rotten food. Here are the first healthy teenage lifestyle tips, don't end up doing what I did.

"How To Get A Teenager To Eat Healthy (From An Actual Teenager)" By Sadie Radinsky

Sadi Radinsky is a writer at MindBodyGreen. She wrote an article about how to get a teenager to eat healthy from an actual teenager. I decided I wanted to share with you because it was very interesting. Myth: My friends will only accept me if I eat "normally." If you have really good friends like my friend Alex and Adam, you don't have anything to worry about. I don't eat junk food anymore, I never drink alcohol. They are still my friends and they are supportive of my decisions. If they want to eat dessert or eat junk food that's their choice. When they first asked me why I no longer eat junk food I tell that I must eat like a personal trainer since that's what I am hoping to be one day. Occasionally I have a cookie or have some ice cream, but that's once in a blue moon. I have been friends with Adam and Alex for over 15 years, sure they might kid around with me about eating healthy, but they never ever try to persuade me to eat junk food.

Myth: It's impossible to stay healthy at school Another healthy teenage lifestyle tips are it's not impossible to stay healthy at school. If you are in high school or middle school, bring a packed lunch from home. Just don't stuff it in a locker like I did. It was basically a stink bomb in the hallway, eww. Just get up a little earlier and make your lunch for school. If your Mom or Dad stays at home then politely ask them to pack a lunch for you, while you get ready for school. Bringing your own lunch to school is healthier than school lunches. However, when you are in college you can get a wide variety of food on campus and off campus. You can always try some sushi for your lunch.

Myth: Healthy food is too expensive. Another great healthy teenage lifestyle tips are healthy food does not have to be too expensive. Here is what I like to snack on when I am hungry. Trader Joes handful of almonds, Quaker Oats rice cakes. Not too expensive right? If you need more snack suggestions check out this post here. Useful Tips From Experts In Healthy Snacks

Myth: I just can't give up sweets. The next healthy teenage lifestyle tips are that you don't have to give up sweets. If you can't give up sweets, then limit your sweets to special occasions like I do or you can substitute sugar sweets with healthier versions. Here are some examples that I like to eat if I am looking for something sweet. Quest Protein bars, Quest Protein cookies. These sweet treats will satisfy your cravings. Myth: I won't be able to hang with my friends if I can't eat normal food. Another great tip about healthy teenage lifestyle tips is that you don't have to eat what your friends are eating. Have you ever been asked to go to a restaurant with your friend that they like, but there is absolutely nothing on the menu that you can eat? Wel, I know that I have many times. Either with my parents, brother or friends. If there is nothing on the menu that I like I make sure I eat ahead of time. I love having my Shakeology shakes. Nice meal replacement drink full of the daily nutrients that you need. Find out more about Shakeology here. What Is Shakeology? Myth: If I start eating healthy, I'll never be able to eat unhealthy again. Lastly, another healthy teenage lifestyle tips are you can always eat unhealthy again. However, why would you? If you have eaten unhealthy the day before then you might want to check out our last post about how to get back on track after overeating. You can check it out by visiting this post here. How To Recover From Over Eating. Original Article You can find the original article by Sadie Radinsky at MindBodyGreen.com.

I Hope That You Like This Post About How To Own Healthy Teenage Lifestyle Tips For Free

I hope that you like today's post about healthy teenage lifestyle tips. It would be such a great help if you can share this post about healthy teenage lifestyle tips with your teenage sons/daughters. If you also have a few more mins to kill please consider sharing this post on social media to help get the word out about us. Read the full article

#eatinghealthy #eatinghealthydoesnthavetobeboring #eatinghealthydoesntmeanstarvingyourself #eatinghealthyisntapunishment

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