Not Your Little Girl

Isla Maloney // 19 // Waitress

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Flashback|| Isla

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Gerry looked over at the sound of her sister’s voice and grinned before looking over at her guardian. “Yeah, see, Mike, and you want me to have a good time, don’t you?”

The older man sighed through his nose, “Of course, I do…I just don’t the idea of all those young bucks trying to get their hands on you,” He smiled weakly and waved Isla over. “Snowflake, stop lurking and come over here,” 

He looked over at Gerry, “So, do you have a date for tonight or something?”

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At Mike's bidding, Isla grinned and shuffled over, accepting an arm around the shoulder from the large man. "I-I'm here, I'm here... And don't worry about Gerry, she knows how to look after herself. I-I saw her knock out a guy once." It had been pretty terrifying too, being just after they'd fled Lila's clutches. In addition, Isla had planted some mace in Gerry's clutch. Just to ease any worries.

At the mention of a date, Isla's eyes started to glitter. She shot her sister a smirk, sitting herself down on the sofa. "Yeah Gerry, who's your date?"

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Flashback|| Isla

Gerry smiled, not wanting to admit she felt full to bursting as the large man she considered her father touched her cheek.

"Now, you got everything? Phone, keys, wallet…mace," Mike asked and Gerry snorted with laughter.

"Mike, it’s prom, not fight night," She grinned. She couldn’t remember being so happy, or so excited. She’d never worn anything so nice or felt so pretty. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

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Hovering silently by the side of the door, Isla looked onto the scene, a small smile gracing her expression. It wasn't every day that she got to see her sister looking so blissfully happy and excited, or see her looking so beautiful. Not that Isla didn't consider Gerry beautiful all the time (in fact, her opinion was that her sister was the most beautiful girl in the world), but there was something about the dress, the makeup, the way her hair was curled just made her shine in an especially unique way. 

As Mike fussed over the young woman, Isla giggled, sharing a grin with the redhead. "I-I don't think people like being maced in the middle of a slow dance... You look so beautiful, Ger'." 

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Gerry rolled her eyes and smirked, “I hope you aren’t telling people about my candy stash. I need that to survive around here and, hello, Izzy, last I checked, we at a bar, everyone’s drinks are spiked,” She chuckled, winking at the blonde.

The smile faded as Isla pressed about Marco. The bar owner wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head, “I tried, Isla…I’ve tried and I’ve tried and he won’t budge. He won’t tell me jack shit other than if I don’t do what Frost says we’re all dead,” Her eyes became pained. She missed Thad, the little idiot, but she couldn’t tell anyone that. 

Her eyes snapped back to Isla, brows furrowing, “Like hell you will. You’re pregnant and you’re only going to get more so as the time passes. You need to be lightening up your load, not adding on…” She licked her lips, expression pensive. “I’ll be fine, Izzy,”

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Isla gave a look of mock shock, putting a hand to her chest in offense. "No! Of course not. If I-I tell everyone else, there's less for me." A snort of laughter left the blonde and she finally reached out to pour herself some water. "I'm gonna think twice about drinking anything from your spiked-up bar." She was kidding, of course, watching her own drinks like a hawk, if she even had one. 

Gerry was obviously not happy with the conversation, but to Isla it simply wasn't fair on the redhead. Not that Gerry took things lying down, but this was really hurting their business, apart from anything else. Her arms looped around her sister, seeing her pain and she spoke softly. "I know, I just..." Air rushed out of her nose in a sigh. "It's not fair on you." 

"Gerry, come on!" An emotional rush was coming on fast, she tried to calm herself down. "I-I'm not even showing and y-yeah, I'm gonna get bigger, but I can lighten up my load when I start feeling like I need to. You look half dead, please let me help you..."

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"Having a temper doesn’t make me immature, Izzy," Gerry smirked at the blonde girl. She was still a little in shock that Izzy was pregnant. She had mood swings much worse than Gerry did…but then again, Gerry hadn’t been pregnant too terribly long. She sighed and rubbed her face, looking over as Isla started to pour a drink.

 ”I’m not supposed to contact him, willy nilly, only if I need something,” She felt so damn tired and she was worried for her friend. “What am I supposed to do, Isla? I’m taking care of his boss, his wife, I feel like I lost the bar, you’re pregnant…it’s just…overwhelming,” She muttered.

"I was thinking about your candy stash and when you used to play pranks on customers you didn't like." Isla smirked back as she pushed a shot and soda towards her sister. "Didn't you spike some guy's drink once?" She'd pulled out another glass, nearly pouring herself one in absent mindedness. The bottle had been hovering over the glass before she suddenly realised what she was doing and jerked back with a half muffled curse. How the hell was she going to manage this if she could barely remember not to drink?

A small bubble of frustration bloomed in her, seeing how tired Gerry looked. It wasn't fair - she'd put so much of her life into the bar and, although they both trusted Marco like their own brother, this situation he'd put them in really was pushing it. They didn't know what was going on or when this occupation would end, and in the meantime... "So send him a message. H-he's messing you a-around and it's not fair." Her stomach plummeted as her pregnancy listed on Gerry's list of stresses and she fought not to let her guilt show as her gaze dropped to the bar. She had enough to deal with without having to handle another if her crying fits. "Tell him. We don't deserve to know n-nothing when we're doing so much for him..." Her fingers closed around her empty glass. She wanted to apologise, but she seemed to do it all the time nowadays and it would only make Gerry upset. "I-I could take more on here, if you're stressed. You'll make yourself ill, Ger'." 

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"Where the hell are the mixers?!" Nearly worked up into tears, Isla rummaged messily through the shelves, her eyes flicking over the contents. Vodkas; check. Whiskeys; check. Tequila; check. The mixer selection should have been next on the shelf, nice and neat, where she usually left them. But there they definitely weren’t.

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"I..I’m sorry, Isla..I don’t know," Cherry said, looking at the other girl with large eyes. "Are..are you alright?"

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"No, n-no, I'm not alright because m-mr Frost keeps, keeps messing up my inventories!" Isla said, already loosing control of her rather fragile emotions. For most of the time, she could keep herself relatively calm, but when things went wrong - especially things that Gerry trusted her to do at the bar - it now felt just that much /worse/. "I-I don't know where all the, the sodas are, stupid, stupid!"

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"Where the hell are the mixers?!" Nearly worked up into tears, Isla rummaged messily through the shelves, her eyes flicking over the contents. Vodkas; check. Whiskeys; check. Tequila; check. The mixer selection should have been next on the shelf, nice and neat, where she usually left them. But there they definitely weren't.

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"well, they won’t have to worry about that long," Gerry scoffed as she looked over at her sister. ‘They keep this up and I’ll be out of a job," Her lips quirked up slightly at the idea. "Boy, I bet that would put a real kink in Frost’s plans…whatever the fuck they…

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'A daycare is tempting. I'm looking after enough kids as it is,' she grinned at her sister. Her face soured at Marco's name. She was very displeased with her friend. 'No, I haven't heard from him since Emmy came to live with us. I'm about ready to call him and give him a piece of my mind. I'm no one's stooge,' she said darkly.

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"I don't know, I-I think you're less mature then half the girls," Isla giggled. Although she could hardly talk. Mood swings had set in with a vengeance, making tears appear at the drop of a hat; just the other day, Gerry had found her in hysterics because they'd run out of orange juice.

The mention of Marco, as she knew it would do, brought tension, and Isla but her lip, reaching for a bottle under the bar. If anything, at least she could make her sister a drink, since she clearly needed one. "Maybe you should send him a, a message? I-I mean, he could be in trouble too..."

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"well, they won't have to worry about that long," Gerry scoffed as she looked over at her sister. 'They keep this up and I'll be out of a job," Her lips quirked up slightly at the idea. "Boy, I bet that would put a real kink in Frost's plans...whatever the fuck they are,"

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"We could turn this place into something else," Isla laughed, reaching Gerry's side and leaning on the bar. "Like a diner. Or daycare." She was, of course, joking, but it was pretty funny to imagine Frost trying to run covert operations while toddlers threw toys at him. "He still hasn't told you what's going on? Or Marco?"

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Quiet||OPen

The red head glared as she looked at the empty bar. It had been quiet for a while now, the growing tension between the families scaring everyone off, including the sudden, strange manager in the bar. “Where the fuck is everyone?” She huffed.

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"They're scared of you," Isla joked, coming from the back room and slotting a new bottle of Whiskey into place where the previous had run out. Although it was slow, they'd still had some business. Just more people not affiliated with the mobs, since they had been 'waiting out' what would happen. 

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"Yes, darling…I’m okay." Emmy said smoothly. She wanted to tell Isla, she didn’t like keeping secrets from people. But this secret was almost too big for both of them. She didn’t want to upset the young girl any more than she already was.  

"Sweetheart, it will all be okay. Alright? Whatever you chose, you have so many people that will support you. I promise"  She offered Isla a reassuring smile, as good of one as she could muster given the circumstances. "You never have to thank me, darling. That’s what families for." 

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She drew back, carefully searching Emmy's face for signs of the tears she thought had been about to fall. But if there had been any, there was no trace of them now. Even so, Isla still gave Emmy's hand another squeeze, hoping that it showed that she was here for the other blonde, as much as she seemed to care for Isla. 

That was true. Gerry alone was enough support for Isla, but she had Emmy, Marco, and the lost girls too at the very least. That was some support system. "I-I guess," she said slowly, then smiling, very slightly. She couldn't feel altogether happy yet, but she felt comforted. "Oh, um, can you not t-tell Marco? I-I'd rather... H-he's like a brother," she explained.

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Emmy held Isla tightly, hearing the sadness in her voice. “I know you are, darling. I know. But you’ll be alright. You’re not alone, okay? Shh…you’re not alone” She choked out, trying desperately to hold back her tears. 

Emmy pulled back again, searching Isla’s glazed eyes. “Yes, you can. You’re family to me, you and Gerry. What I have is yours, Isla.” She said simply. Emmy didn’t know if she’d ever be able to conceive, and the thought alone almost brought her to tears. But she knew, no matter how much it hurt, she would be there for Isla, no matter what. 

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Isla only ever let herself cry in front of Gerry, nowadays. In previous years, Mike had seen her tears (hell, he'd seen hysterics during the time when he'd taken the two girls in. Isla had been barely able to string two words together without her anxiety overtaking her), and her stepbrother. Marco too, but only because he'd known her for so long. So she bit her lip, holding them in. Emmy's body shook, almost imperceptibly, sending a thrill of shock through her. "E-Emmy... Are you ok?" She asked again. 

Then shock ran through her for an entirely different reason. Her eyes widened and she drew back, searching the other blonde's expression. "I-it's not just bringing it up, Emmy. All the medical bills, alone..." She trailed off. "And I-I don't know what I'm going to do yet," she added, again. Adoption wasn't an option for her (Gerry had always distrusted the 'system', and therefore so did Isla. Not to mention the amount of lost girls she saw who'd fared awfully in the care of the state), but she was also terrified about bringing a child into a world that had never treated Isla or her sister fairly. But still... There was no doubt that Marco, at least, would offer some help, although she didn't expect it. Emmy seemed so bent on offering her help and support that it astounded her; this woman hadn't even known them a year, yet she held them in such high regard. Slowly, she reached for Emmy's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you, though..."

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Emmy pulled away from Isla and smoothed the girl’s hair, touching her cheek gently. “Darling, all babies are miracles, you’ll see. It’s very frightening now, but…you’ll see. It’ll all work out my darling, and Gerry will be behind you every step of the way, as will I. Alright?” She didn’t want to come out and say that some women don’t have the luck to become a mother, knowing how it would make Isla feel and not wanting that for someone she considered family.

Emmy listened to Isla, still trying to keep composure and comfort the obviously distraught girl.  She gave a small nod in understanding and wrapped Isla once again in a reassuring hug.

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It felt a lot how she expected a mother would react. Isla had been raised by Gerry practically single-handedly, giving her a very mixed up view of maternal figures. Gerry had been five when Isla was born and barely older when their real mother had abandoned them, Lila had never been any kind of mother to them and Mike had been a widower. Aside from Gerry, the only even vaguely motherly figure in Isla's life was Mrs Croix, the mobster matriarch who lived next door, and she was more like a rather sinister grandmother, or aunt, in Isla's eyes. So this show of care and affection, slightly different to Gerry's, fell into the gap where her mother should have been.

She looked rather dully up at Emmy; her own mother hadn't thought she was a miracle. According to her father (yet again, in name only), her mother had fallen into a post-partum depression so horrific after her birth that she'd abandoned them all. Although Isla knew that she could never do that to her own child, she found it difficult to channel Emmy's enthusiasm and quell her own fear. Pulled once more into a hug, her arms came around Emmy, finally. "I-I'm... I'm really scared." She managed to choke out, although she didn't want Emmy to see her cry. Nor did she want to mention that she wasn't sure if she could keep it yet, or even if she wanted to. In many ways, it hadn't sunk in properly and there was still the matter of money. But Emmy seemed so sure that it was a good thing that she was certain that she didn't want to discuss abortion with her. She'd probably be horrified. "We can't afford this..."

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Emmy felt sick with worry and sadness combined both for the girl and for herself. She felt terrible for feeling badly about all of this, however, knowing this had nothing to do with her situation and knowing she needed to be there for her friend, her family.  She held Isla securely, rubbing her back and trying to compose herself.  ”Whatever you decide, she will support you. And you know you have my love and support as well, darling.” She pulled back a bit so that she could capture Isla’s sad gaze. “Don’t be sad, little one, this is a miracle.”

Emmy mustered up a smile, touching Isla’s cheek. “Oh, darling, it’s nothing you need to worry yourself about. Do you know how far along you are, sweetheart?”

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Despite Emmy’s best efforts, Isla was failing to see the happy side of this ‘miracle’. Before her, all she could see was difficulty and inconvenience for her sister, who would have to pay for whatever she chose and even help raise her child, if she kept it. “I-I know… Thanks, Emmy, but I don’t think either of you realise what y-you’d be getting yourself into if, if I keep it.” She sighed, looking up into Emmy’s earnest gaze with her rather tearful one. “I-I can’t see how this is a miracle…”

Something clearly was bothering the other woman, but Isla felt awkward pressing and was quickly distracted by the question, comforted by the hand to her cheek. She frowned slightly, working out the timings silently. “I-I don’t know… Probably about a month, but I don’t know for sure.” That was around the last time she’d slept with Danny, although she couldn’t know for certain as they’d never gone without protection.

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Isla smiled, hoping to God that Emmy’s affection wouldn’t run out the second she told her about her problem. After all, she knew her and trusted her, but it was hard to read people on matters like this. Even the most placid person could turn cold if they disapproved of something. Emmy…

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For a few, horrible moments, everything was still. Emmy didn’t move and Isla couldn’t look up to meet her gaze, afraid of what she might find there. Mere seconds later, however, the other blonde had enveloped her in a secure hug. It almost made her want to cry again, that she was being so sweet, still.

Finally, Isla’s eyes trailed up to meet Emmy’s and she nodded. “I-I’ve told her. I… I just don’t know what I-I’m going to do yet.”

Looking up at Emmy - the way she was talking and a small sniff that escaped her - Isla couldn't help but feel concern. "Are you ok, Emmy?"

[emilianna-belmonte-blog]

"Oh, sweetheart. I have nothing else to do, and I could think of no better way to spend my Wednesday." Emmy smiled at the girl, taking the cup from her and sitting back down at the table gracefully.  She watched as Isla visibly got uncomfortable at the question and she hoped she wasn’t prying.

Emmy listened intently, nodding her head. “I’ve noticed, my darling and I’ve been worried about you. You’ve looked so tired.” She trailed off, sipping her tea, looking lovingly at the other blonde.

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Isla smiled, hoping to God that Emmy's affection wouldn't run out the second she told her about her problem. After all, she knew her and trusted her, but it was hard to read people on matters like this. Even the most placid person could turn cold if they disapproved of something. Emmy seemed to be worried about her, however, so she remained hopeful.  

Isla snorted at the comment, smiling wanly at her fingers as she played with them. "Y-yeah, I've been pretty exhausted. I-it's just... It's not a bug." She stopped, chewing her lip. Emmy deserved to know what was going on, but her chest was constricting in worry as her mind struggled for the right words. Eventually, she managed to speak, although she couldn't look at Emmy. "I-I was late. Last week." Weirdly, she couldn't bring herself to say 'pregnant' yet and could only hope that Emmy would put two and two together.