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Story Notes:

 

Story Notes: After a long time away, I decided to revisit the “Romance of the Absurd” world. This story takes place sometime after “Saturday Routine,” "Living by Firelight," and "Entwined."   

 

 

DISCLAIMER: The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following story is a work of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

 

Special thanks to Marzee Doats for her assistance and suggestion of a key idea prompt, and continuing thanks to Skyrose, who helped bring the world of Absurd to life.

 

 

 

 

 

The sky didn't match the day.

Darcy stared out at the flat fields, breathing in slowly, giving herself time to listen. She never would've believed, when she first arrived in this place, how much you could hear just standing on the porch – the wind through the fields, birds somewhere across the road, voices around the side of the house.

“We're not going to get killed out there today.”

She raised her eyebrows, glancing towards the clothesline. Sean had reappeared and his voice was determined. “We're going to be ready for them this time.”

“Not all of us,” said Sam, his husky voice carrying the same matter-of-fact tone he'd perfected when he was in kindergarten.

“Our weaknesses don't matter. We've got strategy now. We've got a secret weapon.” Sean had hunched down, spreading his hands in front of him like he was holding onto the secret.

She smirked and looked back across the field, wondering if, had someone told her once that this place was where they would make their stand, she would believe them. She could barely believe it now, but here they were, and the cold breeze was biting enough to snap anyone out of a reverie. She glanced back towards the boys.

Sam was backing up, holding out his arms, that strange energy taking over his movements. A grin on his face. Had she ever imagined her boy, so at ease, here? “I don't think bribing the ref counts,” he said.

“Don't be so down, little man. We've got this one.” Sean tossed him the ball.

Sam laughed as he caught it, and so did she. Sam was easily Sean's height, and as he returned the pass, it hit Sean hard in the stomach.

“Not bad,” she said, stepping off the porch, pulling her jacket closer around her. She held out her hands, and Sean handed off the ball to her. “Go long,” she said.

Sean, for all his boasting seconds before, fumbled the ball. “I'll get the next one, Mrs. H!” he called.

“Sure,” she said, motioning to Sam first.

He nodded, running backwards. They practiced a few passes, taking turns. This part had always felt natural to her, holding her fingers against the laces, a clear goal, but many ways to get to it. Everything else was unexpected, but this part made sense.

Sam leapt up to catch the ball, doing a small victory dance, his red jacket a bright spot against the endless field and sky. Stanley had offered him his old jacket, but it hadn't fit quite right. He had more than a few of Stanley's old sweaters, and it always seemed easy for Stanley to part with things. “Well, I have a lot,” he would usually say. “Compared to some people.”

True, she supposed. She had often felt just the opposite, secretly terrified at how few things she could count as theirs as she put on a steely face and held onto Allison and Sam's hands. You never really knew how it really was to have something until you didn't.

What did she have now? She paused to take a deep breath as Sean did his own victory dance. Lots of things. The things she counted on, when faced with nothing else. Daughter and son. Health. Sun and sky. And so many things she wouldn't have recognized until they were hers. Friendship. Steadiness. Moments of uncontrollable laughter. If not safety, a hope for it. Hope. That was it, there under things, sneaking up on her because she wasn't likely to just invite it in. But real, she decided. Real as this unreal place stretching out in front of her, these strange but endearing people, this odd but comforting home. What else did she have? A decision.

“Whoa, is that the turkey?” Sam was shouting. She glanced towards the house.

Stanley was carrying the bird he'd just finished cleaning, making a show like it was weighing him down. “All set for stuffing,” he said.

“Awesome work, Stanley! I think I forgot what turkey tastes like,” said Sean, stepping closer to the house, still catching his breath.

“You had some the year before last,” said Stanley, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, Allison gets all the credit. I just cleaned it.”

Allison, stepping across the porch behind him, nodded with a more sombre look on her face. Darcy sent her a small smile. She glanced back towards her football teammates. “What do you say we join them while the turkey makes its grand entrance inside? Maybe see if we can help?”

“It isn't my time yet,” shrugged Sean. “I'm the grand marshal of the dishes brigade.”

“Didn't you get that job because of that time you ate the yams before dinner was ready?” asked Allison, raising her eyebrows at him as they all made their way towards the door.

Sean shrugged. “Aren't you a vegetarian?”

“I will be, if we ever go back to getting meat from inhumane slaughterhouses,” she said.

Darcy smiled faintly as she caught her daughter's eye. She could hear Allison's voice in her mind. “You do what you have to to survive.” That's what it always was, in the day-to-day around here. Sometimes imagining anything beyond surviving seemed like a leap. But then other days, other moments, something in the back of her mind, the pit of her stomach, a little whisper suggested they could hope for something more. She glanced back across the yard again. Sometimes the fields, stretching out forever, had seemed like a prison, separating her from the world she'd known. Much as she'd reasoned to herself that it didn't exist anymore, she still sometimes felt it was out there and she was being cruelly kept from it. And then the space had been safety, a cushion from the harder places she knew were out there, the places some of them would go to and be swallowed up by. Now, though, it was space. It was room to breathe. It wasn't solid, able to keep the horrors at bay forever, but it wasn't stifling her either. It was there, much as she was here, and was that enough?

“You coming?” She looked over. Stanley was standing at the door, which Sean was holding for him, doing his best butler impression with a deep bow. An easy smile lit Stanley's face, but his eyebrows were raised, asking with such ease. She nodded, returning him the smile.

She laughed as they walked through the house, Stanley and the boys dramatically announcing the arrival of the turkey and its captors. They squeezed single file down the hall as the sound of singing drifted towards them, and spilled their way into the kitchen.

“Ooh, good job, Daddy!” shouted Mimi from her chair at the table.

“Good job, Allison,” said Stanley, nodding in the young woman's direction. Sean and Sam busied themselves getting water from the sink, handing a glass to Darcy and asking if anyone else wanted any. Allison smiled, taking a sip after Sean passed her a drink.

“Good job, team!” chirped the little girl. “We're almost ready for you.”

“You guys have been hard at work,” said Darcy.

“Mimi's the champion bread tearer,” said Jake.

“Aunt Mary and I are a team. Uncle Jake helped,” she said, swinging her feet as she smiled at them. “But he wasn't helping with the song.”

“Oh no, Uncle Jake, don't you know the kitchen is a singing spot?” asked Stanley, busying himself fitting the turkey into its pan.

“Aunt Mary was just going to teach me the next part,” said Mimi. “How does it start?”

“It's the same as the last one,” said Mary.

“Rise up this mornin', smiled with the risin' sun,” warbled Mimi, swinging back and forth slightly. “Uncle Jake cries at this song.”

“I told you, it's the onions,” grumbled Jake, shoving his cutting board across the table.

Mary laughed and pulled the cutting board towards the bowl. “Mimi, wanna stir while I pour these in?” Mimi nodded, and Mary tilted the cutting board. “You guys up to anything?” She held the bowl steady as Mimi began to stir.

“Just came in to see if we could help,” said Sam.

“Most of the food's ready for now, except the turkey,” said Mary, glancing at Stanley.

“That'd be my job,” he said with a proud nod.

“I can go on my walk then right?” asked Mimi, glancing around and then up at Mary. Mary nodded. “I'll finish this if you want to head out now.” Mimi glanced over at Sam. “Going to come too, Sam?”

“Never miss it, Mimilino,” he said. “Anyone else coming?”

Soon Sam, Mimi, and Sean were tidying up and preparing to go on the traditional Thanksgiving walk. Darcy decided to go with them, and was only slightly surprised when Allison offered to go too. Jake, who had been on a late night border patrol shift, mumbled something about the couch before heading in the direction of the living room. Darcy looked over at Stanley. “Going to take your traditional nap too?”

He nodded. “Soon as I finish with this bird. Enjoy the fresh air!”

Darcy chuckled, and he watched her disappear into the hallway, asking Allison if she'd brought another sweater as her footsteps grew quieter.

When everyone else had left, there was silence for a few moments as Stanley began stuffing the turkey and Mary stirred the second bowl of ingredients, humming faintly to herself.

“Okay, cut to the chase,” he said. “I know you want to.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then grinned, glancing around as if to check for stragglers. “Did you ask her?”

“Jeez,” he said, with full mock irritation. He glanced around himself, going so far as to walk over to the door and lean his ear against it. “Fine, yes,” he said as he came back to the table. “I asked her the other night.”

Mary made a gleeful, wordless sound, and Stanley looked around furtively. “Okay, but don't start celebrating yet. She hasn't given me an answer.” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “She needed time to think.”

Mary was still smiling, but she put on a more serious face. “Oh. Well, that's understandable.”

At his look of dismay, she added, “No, you know what I mean. It just takes a lot, to make decisions like this. Especially when it's not your first time around. I'm sure she wants to give herself time to really be thoughtful about it.”

“I know,” he said, glancing down and looking pensive as he began working on the turkey again. “I know how hard it is. Trying to – it's a gamble, deciding on something big like this, but especially when you've lost someone.”

She nodded, giving him a small smile before looking back down at the table.

“I'm still sure,” he said. “I think. I have moments sometimes, and I'm afraid I'm being the biggest idiot. I picture Bonnie and Mimi both, just standing there, arms crossed, telling me I'm an idiot.” He sighed and she sent him a sympathetic grimace. “You're not an -” she began, but he interrupted, “Falling in love? I'm sure about it. But I feel like an idiot.”

They worked in silence for a few moments. “I get that,” she said, concentrating her gaze still on the bowl in front of her. “It'd be hard. Not just that you hope you'll both be happy, that things will work out with you. It's everything else. Taking a chance, letting someone get that close to you, making something matter that much.”

He nodded, glancing at her with a serious expression. “A chance you'll get hurt again.” He let go of the turkey for a second, resting his elbows against the table. “And I think it must be messier for her. In a weird way. It's not like it is for you and me. We know they're not ever coming back, and they're not out there somewhere.” He paused. “Well, they're out there somewhere, playing Yahtzee and making fun of us.”

“And each other,” she said with a small smirk.

“Totally,” he said with a chuckle, then becoming serious again. “But for us, moving on, it's terrifying but it's also a clear step. A different kind of step anyway. We might never love anyone the same as them, but it's not like we're ever going to make a side-by-side comparison.”

“You think she's comparing you?” she asked.

“Not really,” he said. “Well, a little.” He sighed, somewhat sheepishly this time. “It's hard not to. But I'm just saying it's a different kind of moving on, and I know it took me a while, so I've gotta respect her taking time.” He smiled slightly. “I'm kind of dying to know though.”

Mary returned his smile and seemed to be threatening to reach her earlier levels of enthusiasm. He held up a hand in protest. “It's rough, okay? I've never proposed to someone who didn't propose to me first. I don't really know what I'm doing.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Did you ever?”

He folded his arms. “Did you?”

She laughed. “No. And yes. I think I tend to look while I'm leaping.” She sighed. “I don't know if it helps. Having your eyes open, once you're already in it.”

He sighed. “I don't know either.” He glanced at her. “Would you do it again?”

She looked over at the window, and back. “Maybe. Yes.” She smiled fleetingly, but then fixed him with a more bracing look. “I'm sure she'll let you know soon.”

“You're really sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “Jake and I are both rooting for you, you know. We think you're great together.”

“I knew telling both of you was going to come back and bite me in the ass,” he said, with mock consternation. “But I guess you have to have something to talk about, all those lonely nights without me, huh?”

She raised her eyebrows, but gave a quick nod. “And we'll always be rooting for you.” “Thanks, Mary,” he said. For a moment, he raised his arms as if to hug her, but then he glanced down at his sleeves. “Right. Raw turkey.”

“Right.” They both laughed.

 

 

Darcy watched as Sean, Sam, and Mimi raced ahead, Sean pretending it was hard keeping up with her as they neared the fence. Beside her, her stoic daughter was laughing.

“Think it was part of Stanley's strategy, sending them out to go running with Mimi before the game?” asked Allison.

Darcy chuckled. “We haven't picked teams yet. How could he know which people he wants tired?”

Allison shrugged. “He probably won't get both of them. He could neutralize the threat, either way.”

“Maybe,” said Darcy. “But Stanley doesn't really think like that. He'd want everyone to be at their best.”

She found herself grinning then, and looked down at the grass for a few moments, enjoying the rhythm of walking in sync with Allison's steps. She glanced sideways at her. “I want to tell you something.”

It was a sign she was especially at ease today that she didn't stop or stiffen, but merely looked back at Darcy with curiosity.

Darcy found herself smiling again, but she was cautious as she spoke. “The other night, Stanley and I were out for a walk, and he asked me, well, he asked me to marry him.”

She looked sideways, trying to catch Allison's reaction without staring too hard. She always marvelled at how quickly everything could flash over her daughter's features. An intense response, swinging wildly from shock to questioning, to bewilderment to swiftly resigned inscrutability, could surge by in part of a second. A lot of Robert, she would always remark to herself. Blink and you would miss it, and they would have already decided what they wanted you to see.

It was surprise she saw on Allison's face now. “That's – what did you say?” she asked.

“I asked if I could have some time to think about,” she said.

“Oh,” said Allison. She looked ahead for a moment before peering carefully at Darcy. “So what are you thinking?”

“It's a big decision,” began Darcy. “A lot of things to consider. We want to make sure we're doing what's best not only for us, but there's Mimi, and your brother, for a while he'll still be living with us, and -”

“Do you love him?” asked Allison.

Darcy glanced at her daughter's intent face. “Yes.”

Allison nodded, and now displayed a small smile.

“But knowing that, and knowing it's right to take such a big step,” continued Darcy.

“Yeah, different things,” said Allison.

“We haven't been seeing each other all that long,” said Darcy. “It hasn't even been a year.”

“True,” said Allison.

“Sam is very attached to Stanley and Mimi both,” she continued. “I wouldn't want to change his world too much if I wasn't certain.”

“Right,” said Allison.

Darcy stopped walking for a moment. Allison stopped too, looking questioningly at her. “Is it too strange for you?” Darcy asked.

“Why, because of her?” asked Allison. Years later, longer ago than Robert's departure, or Mimi the first, but the sound of that one word was still different, slightly dearer than the other words, slightly sadder.

“Well, not just because of her,” said Darcy. “Not much is conventional about our situation.”

“No,” said Allison with a small chuckle.

“But I know it's been hard for you, coming back here, and I'd want you to be comfortable, wherever I'm at,” said Darcy.

“No,” said Allison, thinking for a moment before continuing. “I like being here. I like being back. I used to hate it. I used to wonder sometimes if I'd rather forget everything.”

“But you don't anymore?” asked Darcy.

Allison gave a slow but definitive shake of her head. “Can't forget her, no matter how crappy I feel somedays. It just...something would be wrong about that. I wouldn't want a world she never lived in.”

Darcy smiled slowly. “I understand.”

Allison chuckled for a moment at the rest of their party up ahead. Mimi and Sam had ganged up on Sean and were tossing fallen leaves at him. She glanced at Darcy again. “Whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be the right thing.”

“I appreciate that,” said Darcy. She glanced at Allison. “What's that smirk for?”

“Not a smirk,” protested Allison with a grin. “I was just thinking about how you've always been a great planner. You know, always prepared for any situation.”

“Haven't felt all that prepared for most things the past few years,” Darcy muttered with a smirk of her own.

“Yeah, but that's the thing,” said Allison. “You think on your feet too. I think I knew before the bombs, but I never knew how much, until we were here. You could adapt to anything, Mom. Nothing ever seemed impossible.”

Darcy smiled again, but softer, contemplating. “So, whatever you decide, I know you'll think it through, 'til you know it's right,” continued Allison.

“I don't always know it's right, you know,” Darcy said. She glanced sideways. Allison raised her eyebrows.

“I might seem certain, because I want to be, but that doesn't mean I'm not always wondering if there's something else I should be doing,” Darcy said, in a quiet tone. The shrieks and shouts of the child, teenager, and overgrown boy ahead of them blended with the breeze. “I've always admired how quickly you adapt. The way you throw yourself into something as soon as you have to.” She glanced up. They had come into sight of the Richmond family cemetery, pale against the November sky. The laughing girl who could return suddenly in one syllable was there again, in the silence. “You've always been brave.”

“I'm not brave,” said Allison with another smirk. “You're brave.”

“No I'm not,” said Darcy with her own smirk.

Allison looked slightly serious again. “Thanks, Mom.”

Darcy smiled, and nodded herself. She linked her arm through Allison's as they walked towards the fence, where the other three had stopped. Mimi had been gathering leaves from the ground, and as she noticed Darcy and Allison approaching, she called out, “Look how it spins!”

Darcy smiled as she watched the leaf twisting on its way to the ground. “Did you want to stop here awhile?”

“I already came to see my Mimi this week,” the little girl said. “I just wanted to thank them on my way back to the house.”

Sam and Sean seemed already apprised of the situation. Darcy nodded. “Okay.”

Sean hoisted Mimi up in his arms, and she held out a leaf, tossing it into the air and watching it spin. “Thank you, my Mimi!” She let go of a second leaf. “Thank you, Aunt Bonnie! Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa.”

Everyone held a respectful silence for a moment. “Let's go back to the house and see if Daddy's up from his nap yet,” said Mimi cheerily. She reached for Darcy's hand, looking up at her in questioning.

“Sure, sounds like a plan,” said Darcy. They led the way, and the boys fell into step quickly behind them. Darcy didn't need to look back to know Allison had fallen behind. She could picture her, without turning around, standing there with her own silent thanks.

 

 

 

Stanley was pulled out of his slumber by the sound. He shook his head slowly, letting go of the dancing giraffes that'd filled his thoughts seconds ago. It sounded like they were back. He stretched, staring up at his ceiling for a moment longer.

He hadn't always been such a light sleeper. His mother used to brag that she'd always run the vacuum while he took naps and more than once, he'd been the unfortunate victim of an overnight prank while on a camping trip. He'd joked once that it changed when he'd been suddenly responsible for Bonnie. She was so quiet most of the time, he had to make up for it to keep her out of trouble. The truth was, it wasn't Bonnie herself making the noises that would startle him out of sleep. It was listening for little sounds of the things that could go wrong – falls out of bed, imaginary prowlers, night creatures screeching near the barn. He had to listen, because he was the only one responsible for it.

Mimi had been a deeper sleeper than he ever was, despite her protests that the quiet kept her awake. It was one of the things that amazed him, those early days, waking up and finding her on the other side, huddled in the blankets and completely unaware of his early rising, clomping around in work boots, coming in and out of the house through his morning chores. She'd gotten a bit better – they all needed to, as the things they imagined going bump in the night turned into real things. He noticed, after he came back from New Bern and after their yard turned into a war zone, that they were both a lot more restless at night. And after Bonnie's death, no night was ever completely free. They knew that the things that crawl around in your nightmares were real, and it wasn't something they could forget. Still, they tried, whispering reassurances to each other each time they woke in the dark.

After bringing the baby home, things were especially loud. Every sound had him on high alert, be it a branch tapping the window, an animal scurrying in the kitchen, or his child turning in her sleep. He listened, for all the things new parents were supposed to listen for, but the world outside her window seemed wilder and darker than the one where he'd lived with his small sister, so many years ago. He often told himself he was letting the ghosts scare him, but nearly always, a night terror would prove itself real – the outlaws he'd startled on his porch last spring, or the coyotes that had invaded in August. Now she could talk, and she noticed sounds too, but he was the one who stood on guard for them. “Just a branch,” he would say. “Just the wind.” “Just an owl.” She would go back to sleep, and he would listen longer to make sure.

It was a different sound, when they came into the house. It didn't set him on alert. He'd gotten used to each of their sounds. Sean, clomping around, dragging a chair. Sam, purposefully striding and talking steadily. Allison, whose footsteps were the rarest here, though also brought back faint snippets of an earlier time. And Darcy's steps. He wasn't sure how, but her steps sounded the way she was. Calm. Steady. Lively. Careful but not without a sense of adventure. And the sound of her voice drifted through the walls. Sparkling and no nonsense, but not without kindness. Secret and self-reliant. He stared at his ceiling once more and sighed slowly.

He was used to the sound of her voice. He wondered, if he got more used to it, if he would still notice it in moments like this. Catching him off guard, it gave him a warmth, and a quiet. Perhaps if she was here for good, he wouldn't notice. But maybe that would be okay.

He stood, stretching his arms, straightening his clothes. He didn't want to keep thinking about the ifs. It was nice enough, to have a good feeling, and better to run with it for now. He stepped into the hall and closed his door behind him. Somewhere, Mimi was practicing the verse that was the same as the last, Mary complimenting her memory and accompanying her at parts. Sam was teasing Jake, accusing him of breaking the rules (and Stanley admired his guts – not many of his classmates would dare challenge Sheriff Green to his face). Darcy was laughing.

With a grin on his face, Stanley came around the corner. “Did you have a nice nap?” asked Darcy.

“Awesome, thanks,” he said. “You two should take over the couch and force me to go to my room every year,” he nodded towards Jake, seated with Mimi on his lap and his cards fanned out in front of him, and Mary, perched on the other side with a book in her hands.

“Nice and quiet, huh?” asked Darcy, as he came to sit on the chair beside her.

“Something like that,” he said, smiling and motioning at Sam, who was seated on the floor, leaning against the coffee table. “Deal me in?”

 

 

 

Allison stepped out onto the porch, scanning the horizon where the road stretched away from the house. She breathed in and out slowly, enjoying the cold rush of November wind. She turned to go back inside and was startled. “What are you doing?” she asked Sean.

“What are you doing?” asked Sean, from the place against the wall where he was leaning, one knee bent and his hands in his pockets.

“Just came out to see if there were any signs of the others. Apparently they were going to head out around now.” She paused and peered more closely at him. “Are you -”

“No,” he said quickly, straightening up. “I was helping in the kitchen. With the onions.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing back out at the yard.

“I haven't seen anyone,” he said.

“Right,” she said. She turned once again towards the door. “Hey, they were starting to put together a charades game in there. Wanna come in?”

He shrugged.

“You don't have to, of course. I was just thinking about how your impressions always get the whole room laughing,” she said casually.

He nodded. “Thanks.”

She gave him a nod too, put her hand on his arm for a moment, and turned to open the door. Silently, he followed her.

 

 

 

“Fixing pipes!”

“Spinning wheel! Rumpelstiltskin!”

“No, picking corn!”

“Teddy bear's picnic!”

“Wiring an explosion!”

A pounding on the door interrupted Stanley's gestures. “You guys,” he groaned. “Grapevine. It was 'Heard it Through the Grapevine.'”

“Why were you acting so sketchy then?” asked Sean, as Sam went to let their friends inside and everyone else began congregating in the hallway.

“You guys ready to play football?” Sam asked as Woody and Sally, their arms full, led the group inside.

“Easy there, Sam. We should let them get settled first,” said Darcy, putting a hand on her son's arm as she greeted Margaret.

“A man with his eyes on the prize, I like it,” called Jimmy from behind a basket of corn he was holding up high, like a sacred offering. “It wasn't a very long trip or anything, so I think we'll be ready to hit the field as soon as we unload the food.”

“Whoa, staying a while?” asked Jake. “Looks like a month's rations.” He held the door open for Bill, who was struggling to balance a big casserole dish.

“As if this would really feed an army,” said Bill, with a swagger of experience.

“Do we need to do anything special with these carrots, honey bear?” asked Jimmy.

“No, just put them somewhere cool til it's time to reheat them,” said Margaret, chuckling slightly at the aghast look on Woody's face.

“Always with the public embarrassment,” muttered Woody to Sam as they continued towards the kitchen.

“It's not like everyone here hasn't heard it all before,” shrugged Sally, pushing between them and through the kitchen door.

“It's kind of a little bit nice,” said Sam. Woody gave him a withering look as he followed Sally.

Jake chuckled, but followed the teens as Jimmy looked at him.

“So here's how it's going to go,” Allison was saying to everyone gathered in the kitchen. “We'll congregate outside for the drawing of the teams.”

“Do we already have team captains?” asked Woody.

“Well, per tradition, they should be Stanley and Darcy,” said Jake.

“The best football players,” added Sally.

“So says you,” snarked Woody, picking the football up off the table and flexing his arm.

Stanley glanced at Darcy. “Or we could play on the same team,” he said. “Though I guess we should probably spread the talent around.”

She smiled. “True.” Nothing wrong with a little competition, and it wasn't like they didn't have lots of time to be on the same team. She glanced down at Mimi. “Do you have your whistle, ref?”

“Yup,” said Mimi, holding it up.

“Let's get coats on then,” said Darcy.

“I can't get it to fit,” said Bill, who had been attempting to squish the casserole dish into the fridge.

“Here,” said Jake, taking it from him. He held the door open with his other hand as Mary shuffled around the dishes already taking up the space in the fridge.

“Thanks,” said Bill, standing up and jumping back as Woody tossed the football towards him, calling “Think fast, Uncle Bill!”

“Outside!” commanded Stanley, taking the football from Bill and hoisting Mimi up in the crook of his other arm.

Everyone began to troop outside. Mary remained crouched in front of the fridge, attempting to solve the puzzle. Jake clutched the casserole dish and leaned over her, glancing at the shelves in the fridge door. “Here,” he said, taking one of the containers from her hand and wedging it into one of the shelves.

“Thanks babe,” she said, finally pushing the casserole dish into place and standing up triumphantly. “What?” she asked after a moment, wiping her hands on her jeans and taking in his expression. “No one's listening. Stanley's probably got them doing warm-ups already.”

“Babe?” he asked with a skeptical smirk.

She looked momentarily surprised herself, but she smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather be my honey bear?”

He smirked again. “Babe is okay.” He paused. “As long as you didn't -”

“No,” she said quickly.

“Okay,” he said. He began to follow her towards the hall, slipping his arm around her waist. “But we're not...” he whispered as they neared the door.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head definitively, but then raising her eyebrows.

“No,” he nodded. She took his hand in hers, though as they reached the end of the hall, they slowly let them drop.

 

 

 

“Tails!” shouted Sean. “Mrs. H gets first pick!”

Darcy nodded, and chuckled as Stanley gave her an over-dramatic, bracing look. She'd hated the choosing of the teams at first, but over time they'd established a kind of pattern, an imperfect system of unspoken terms, and everyone else was good at joking with each other as they went.

“Margaret,” said Darcy.

Stanley nodded. “Bill.”

As their first choices came to stand beside them, Darcy exchanged grins with her friend before looking over at Stanley, who was high-fiving Bill and smiling over at her. His and hers friends, lining up in columns. If only making a decision could always be this easy.

“Next choice!” shouted Mimi, gesturing wildly over at Stanley.

“Sam,” he said. Sam jumped up and ran over to stand with Stanley and Bill.

Perhaps she could line up the columns, she thought. Pros and cons. “Woody,” she said with a nod, and her son's best friend was bounding towards them.

She looked over at him, straightening Mimi's hat as his team gathered around him. The good was easy.

He was always determined to do the best he could for his daughter, and on the occasions where he couldn't figure it out, he asked for help.

“Darcy again,” Stanley prompted, and Mimi nodded, gesturing at her. “Jake.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Mary.” Their respective choices playfully stared each other down as they joined their new teams.

He would do anything for his friends, and he trusted that they would do anything for him. It was a hard won bargain, she knew, born from the tragic times they'd all lived through, but one she admired.

Mimi pointed at Stanley. “Hmm,” Stanley said, pretending to think deeply, scratching his head. He could make her laugh, but not only that, he seemed to delight in it. He didn't usually take things too seriously, but he understood when things really were. “Sally,” he proclaimed at last.

Woody made several light-hearted attempts at trash-talking his sister as she moved to join her team, though Darcy chuckled. “I don't know why he's laughing,” mused Margaret. “He was there for her last track and field meet.”

“Jimmy,” said Darcy. Jimmy came to stand beside his wife. “Hey stranger,” Margaret said with a wink, and Woody groaned again.

He made her feel safe and steady. No matter if he was holding her hand, having a serious conversation, or leaning against her on the porch swing, there was something honest and simple about it all. That part was easy to trust. And it was nice, being someone's partner again.

“I believe you're next, again,” said Stanley, giving her a goofy bow. Mimi had gotten distracted, climbing on Sam's feet.

He had gotten Sam to finally explain the events that had led up to the fiasco of the homecoming dance. Sam still hadn't told her all of it, but she was alright with it for now. Letting go was hard, but she was beginning to relax about it.

She glanced at the remaining candidates, and out of the corner of her eye saw that Stanley was giving her a knowing look. He had left her this inevitable choice. “Allison,” she said, and her daughter smiled and walked over towards her.

He had gotten Allison to go riding again. She didn't come out to the farm as often as the rest of the family, but every now and then Stanley would lend her one of the horses and she would disappear for hours. He never asked questions.

“Let's see, who's left?” asked Stanley with full theatricality.

Sean in turn made a dramatic show of being chosen last, so much that Mimi went over to pat his arm consolingly, though the rest of them were rolling their eyes. “Glad you could join us!” said Stanley, clapping Sean on the shoulder.

He always kept on moving, kept on trying, picking himself up again. She wasn't sure exactly where it came from – firm resolve from within, or connection and compulsion to reach those around him – but she knew it well, because she felt it too. And it wasn't just that it was comforting, to be going along the road together. It made her want to hope for more, down the road. To be moving towards something, instead of just moving to get away from where they were now.

She stepped towards him, returning his grin as they shook hands and then waited for the second coin toss. Stanley won.

“Do you want to kick or receive?” Mimi asked, after Sam whispered in her ear.

“Receive,” said Stanley. He passed her the ball, smiling again but with what she imagined to be a tiny twinkle of competition in his eye. “Good game!”

“Good luck,” said Darcy, motioning to her chosen players. “Okay team, gather 'round.” Her group came together on one side of the yard, as Stanley's team moseyed towards their end with some loud giggles. She leaned into a huddle, with Allison on her one side and Woody on the other.

Darcy ran through a strategy with her team. “Also, everyone look out for Sally,” she said. “If they get her running with the ball, she could be hard to catch, and you can't just tackle her so her size isn't really an advantage for us.”

“We should also look out for Sam,” said Woody. “He's been practicing and his throwing arm is pretty strong.”

“Sean'll totally try to cheat, so whenever we can, we should point Mimi in his direction,” said Allison. “And remind her of the rules.”

Spotting the cons was always pretty easy. The little ones at least. His stubbornness. His remarkable ability to jump to conclusions. His love of country music. These weren't big problems.

There were others. The darkness that sometimes took him over. The silences he sometimes couldn't overcome. But they didn't seem like things she couldn't overcome.

The real looming, threatening sky was out there, not here between them. Dark, dangerous clouds that seemed far away, but could close in on you and swallow you whole before you could blink. The fear of moving on, looking to the ground and not watching the sky, was one she had faced before, but each time it was different, bringing a new kind of threat. She knew too, the solution. It was a simple one, yet difficult in execution. A leap.

“Ready?” she asked.

Allison put her hand in the centre of the huddle, raising her eyebrows at the others. Her brave daughter. Allison had taken a leap before, and suffered the fallout of the storm. But it had been such a leap. She still thought sometimes of how her daughter had looked, smiling in that summer sun. For a moment, she wondered if she could channel the same sort of bravery. The others overlapped their hands on Allison's, and they shouted a cheer.

“Have fun everyone!” chirped Mimi as the teams lined up. “No hitting!”

“And make sure you stay back,” reminded Stanley. Mimi nodded and blew her whistle.

Woody made the kick, and Stanley caught it. The team started running.

She was Allison's mother, she thought. She got it from somewhere. Robert, of course, but she was enough her mother too. And most like her when she was fiercely going after what she wanted.

Stanley was still running. She grinned. He charged past Jake and Jimmy, but there was still time for a leap.

She started running. Her heart pounded in her ears as she swung her arms. She was barely aware of Woody and Margaret getting out of the way.

Stanley seemed to realize as she had almost reached him. His eyes widened for a split second. She slammed into him, knocking him backwards.

His face, inches from hers, still showed his shock, and she could barely hear Mimi shouting about a penalty in the background. Taking a breath, she said in a soft but steady voice, “Yes.”

He raised his eyebrows again, but after a moment he smiled.

 

 

 

 

The song Mary teaches little Mimi is “Three Little Birds,” by Bob Marley & the Wailers, first released as part of their album Exodus in 1977.

Stanley's charades prompt is “I Heard it Through the Grapevine,” made famous by Marvin Gaye in 1968 and written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong. 

 



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