Apr 2
Marge/Ned
Hello!! April is here, and this is my luv otp in simpsons.
headcanon that Marge divorced Homer and Marge and Ned Flanders got closer
And u can read my fic at ao3 about them!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82082086
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Marge/Ned
Hello!! April is here, and this is my luv otp in simpsons.
headcanon that Marge divorced Homer and Marge and Ned Flanders got closer
And u can read my fic at ao3 about them!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82082086
New Years Party: A Simpsona Fic
Just a little warm up this morning featuring some Simpsonas and OCs!
Here’s the story of how my sona Erin meets Irene (c) @purplepolarbear Zef and Jaap (c) @purplepolarbear Jane (c) @mimifoxarts It’s my first time writing for this group, so consider it one of many!
Attending a New Years Party wasn’t exactly something Erin wanted to do that year. She already had a busy holiday season as it was with the arrival of the twins earlier that year, and her house was still a mess with the new baby toys, Christmas decorations and other clutter still hanging about. She swore to herself she’d get to it before the new year, but between the exhaustion of two newborns, a six-year old, and Agnes Skinner’s constant nagging criticizing of how she was raising her grandkids, everything just sort of fell to the wayside. She had too much to do, but she couldn’t exactly turn down the invitation from Fat Tony to attend a celebration at his mansion - especially since he wanted her to come back as one of his nighttime entertainers. For old times sake, he kept repeating in the card.
These days, her singing was more lullabies in a rocking chair than ballads on a speakeasy mic, but Seymour kept insisting she go and take a break from everything if she wanted to let her hair down for a night. She was hesitant about it, but between his assurance that he could handle the kids on his own, and the fact she was getting paid quite a hefty lot to go back and sing for Fat Tony and his associates, well, she felt she didn’t have much choice.
Although her old dresses were certainly snug now, so that was great.
It was almost midnight now, and so the jazz band replaced her on stage to finish out the last of the year. She sat alone at the open bar, a long coat covering her dress while she scrolled through her phone for any text messages from Seymour. All she received was a picture of Scottie eating leftovers in her new unicorn pajamas and a picture of both babies asleep in bed with Seymour reaching out to give a thumbs up in the photo. While she typed back to him, the seat next to her was taken by a young woman Erin hadn’t seen before - not around this group anyway. She arrived with two older men, both with graying hair but with vigorous youth in their steps. They left pretty quickly though after getting their drinks - back to mingling with the crowd where one of them put an arm around the shoulders of a young, blue-haired woman Erin knew to be Jane. Legs often talked about her when they ran into each other and caught up.
Erin went back to her phone, but she caught sight of the woman looking over at her, and she turned her head. “Hey!” her voice was loud for it to be just her she was talking to, but then again the band was getting into full swing. “You were real good tonight.”
“Oh, thank you,” Erin said, raising her voice a bit over the instruments.
“Are you new?” she shouted.
“What?” she shouted back. The woman leaned in further.
“I said are you new here?”
“Oh! No!...Well, kind of!” Thank God, the band was transitioning to a new song with less trumpets. She lowered her voice. “I used to sing like...seven or eight years ago I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around most of these people.”
“I get that. I know maybe a dozen of them too.” The drink she ordered arrived, and she plucked out the cherry to take a full swing before popping it in her mouth.
“Do you know Jane?”
“Yeah, I know her. Why?”
“No reason. I just saw the guys you were with going to talk to her, so I figured you knew each other. I don’t know her myself, but I know of her.” That seemed to be the only connection she had to go on to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, she’s with that guy Zef who’s brothers with my guy, Jaap” She motioned over to them with her glass to give Erin the clear picture. “I’m Irene by the way.” She held out her hand.
“Erin.” She reached over and shook hands, delighted to meet someone so friendly. Not the usual kind of person she was used to meeting at these kinds of soirees.
“Are you here with anyone?” she asked.
“Nah, strictly business tonight, but I do have a boyfriend back home.” She opened up the photos again on her phone and scrolled for the most recent one with Seymour. One of him on the floor while the twins crawled all over him. “And we just had these two little bugs.” She held her phone out to show her.
“How cute!” She leaned in to get a better look. “I see you two have an age gap too.”
“Oh yeah.” She rolled her eyes and put her phone down. “I’m sure you know exactly what I go through.”
“With his sister.” She was giggling about it, but that could just be the alcohol setting in. Erin had no idea how much she had to drink before she joined her. “She’s always bringing it up that he’s going to all of a sudden get too old and die and leave me a widow for thirty years.”
“That’s me with his mother.” She too was giggling about it as she took another drink.
“Eh, to hell with it.” She waved her hand in the air as if to brush aside the topic. “To silver foxes.” She raised her glass up and Erin clinked hers against it.
As if that were a summoning, Jaap appeared again beside Irene and whispered something in her ear. Erin checked her phone and it was already 11:58.
Irene got up from her seat, and turned back to her. “Countdown, do you wanna come?”
“Sure!” Erin finished her drink and set it back on the bar before grabbing her phone and walking over with the two of them toward the large crowd of people.
New friends were always a great way to ring in a new year.
A Rainy Saturday
I actually spent some time on this lil story of Seymour taking Scottie to the library, and trust me, I could have kept going but I told myself I’d keep it short.
Enjoy if you wanna read it
Seymour was beginning to enjoy Saturdays again. It started a little over a month ago when Erin came down with a horrible sinus infection, and he offered to take care of little Scottie while she got her bed rest. He enjoyed taking her out to the museums, the park, the playground, the aquarium - pretty much anywhere he felt he could try educating her on something. For a child of almost 2 years old, learning was everything. By the third week, he and Erin felt him taking her out on Saturdays was a great way for the two of them to bond if they were to take their relationship further - not to mention for a single mother like Erin, the few hours to herself would be a luxury. It was a win-win.
This Saturday would be a more relaxed one, since it was a rainy day in Springfield.
Seymour pushed her stroller through the aisle of books in the public library, moving past some of the more advanced works to make way for the childrens’ section. There were a few books for her age group on display, and he took a few to put under his arm before pushing her stroller the rest of the way toward an empty nook in the corner. He sat down first, placing the books on a small table, and he unfastened her from the stroller and lifted her up onto his lap. She was getting big.
“Okay, what’s it going to be today?” He held up a few of the books he brought along to read to her. “Cats, Bunnies, Princesses?”
Scottie reached out and kicked at one of the books with her foot - funny enough the one he didn’t mention. She made a small noise as she did so, and if it was a word, Seymour didn’t catch it.
“The cooking one - good choice.”
He set the others down and leaned back, opening up the book to the first page as Scottie mimicked his actions by lying back on his chest.
“Mommy, Daddy, and I are making dinner for Grandma and Grandpa,” he read to her. “Will you help us make dinner?” He looked down to her, not yet turning the page until she answered.
Scottie was quiet.
“Do you want to help them make dinner?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said very softly. She was more interested in the pictures, and wasn’t really listening.
Seymour turned the page. “First, we need to make a salad. Can you tell me what foods make a salad?”
The page was filled with small illustrations of different kinds of foods next to a giant salad bowl. And underneath each food was the name of the food and how to pronounce it.
“Which one of these pictures goes in the salad, Scottie?” he asked.
Scottie sat up, looking at the colorful bowl of salad that was full of lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, walnuts, and olives. Seymour could see her brain trying to figure it out by looking at all the different options and seeing which ones matched what was in the bowl. Her head went back and forth for a moment until she put her whole hand on top of the drawing of sliced tomatoes.
“Right. We’ll need…” he led on. She moved her hand for Seymour to place his finger beneath the word. “Toe…”
“Toe…”
“Mate…”
“Mate…”
“O’s…”
“Oes…”
“Tomatoes.”
“Tomitos…”
“Good. What else do we need for the salad?”
“Tomitos.”
“No, Scottie, we already have the tomatoes. What else do we need?”
“More tomitos…” She pointed to the salad bowl where there were several tomatoes. And Seymour had to admit...she was right.
“Yeah, you’re right. We’ll need a lot of tomatoes, but what else do we need?”
“Tomitos.” She leaned back to chew on her sleeve. “Nnnd...cheese…”
“Guess they’re getting a Capresi salad,” he joked. Even if she understood his joke, she probably wouldn’t laugh. It wasn’t that funny. Still, he continued on with their reading while the rain continued to pour down outside.
Wedding Blues (Tim/Helen Lovejoy)
Trying to get back into the swing of writing to work on some original projects as well as some sona/OC stories for friends. So in the meantime, here’s a little short about the Lovejoys. Enjoy!
The wedding reception was in full swing well into the late evening, and the open bar still had another two hours to go before closing for the night. Luckily for Timothy Lovejoy, the bride and groom listed him as a guest as well as a vendor, so he could partake in the flowing of free booze even after his ceremonial duties to unite the couple. He was on his seventh glass by the time he stepped outside for some fresh air - much like some of the other guests of the event. Yet unlike them, he came out not to smoke or laugh with friends, but to sit alone and stare up at the moon.
His tie was already loose, his jacket long gone since the first dance. His feet ached, and so he removed his shoes to let them cool on the cold stones outside the reception hall. He sat in the garden, propped up against the trunk of a tree, and he stared up at the sky, his head only slightly spinning.
Weddings made him sad. At least ones he had to provide services for anyway. It was usually around his fifth drink he started to get a case of the blues, and by his seventh, he’d be outside on his own to breathe, away from them all until the slow dances began. It was pretty routine after so many years.
Soft clicks of high heeled shoes grew louder and louder as someone approached him on the cobbled sidewalk. He turned his head to see Helen appear beside him, her hand holding up her lavender bridesmaids dress to keep from tripping. Without any prompting from either of them, she placed a hand on the tree and carefully slid herself down to sit in the space of grass beside him. He lifted his arm for her to lean onto his chest, and she hung onto him as she too kicked her shoes off.
“I was wondering when you were going to come out here,” she said.
“You were talking to Cookie and Bernice. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Well, all the good gossip’s been talked out of me, and I’m tired of listening to Bernice talk about their trip to Cancun this summer. I saw you sneak out, and I thought it was perfect timing.”
The two continued to lean on each other when one of the employees of the venue approached with a tray of drinks and offered them. They each took one, even though Tim’s other drink was still half full by his side. He’d just save it for later.
“Everyone’s been telling me all night how the ceremony was just beautiful,” Helen continued. “And I just can’t help myself but to tell them all how my Timothy really does his best work when it comes to couples he likes.”
“Thanks, Helen.” “It really makes the bride feel special, you know?” she went on. “To feel liked.”
Although in reality, he only gave his best ceremonies when his wife was part of the bridal party. Part of their silent agreement when it came to weddings to make the other look good.
“Mhm…”
Helen sat up a bit to look at him. “Is everything okay, Tim?”
“Hm? Oh yes, yes, you know how it goes sometimes with these things.” He took a drink from his new glass he hadn’t set aside yet.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Just the usual.” He swished the alcohol around in the glass, listening to the ice clink. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
“Oh, the best. This is probably one of my favorites you’ve done in the past three - no - five years.”
Tim glanced over to her and smiled. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. You run along, Helen, and go find your friends. I’ll be back in a minute before the slow songs start.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
She smiled back at him, a little concerned, but mostly thankful, and she kissed his cheek before using his shoulder to push herself back up onto her feet. She used the tree to steady herself as she slipped her shoes back on.
“Don’t be too long, please. I requested our first dance from our wedding to the DJ, and he might play it first.”
“I won’t miss it, Helen.”
She nodded to him and turned back toward the reception hall with her drink in hand.
Tim watched her leave and then sat back against the tree with his eyes closed, taking in slow deep breaths of cold air to sober himself up just a bit more.
Just a few more minutes, and he’d be fine to put the smile back on and go inside again. As sad as these things made him deep down, for reasons he wasn’t ready to face yet, it did make him happy to see her happy. All the heartache in the world would be worth it just to have her mend it with a few side steps and a kiss to that special song they danced to so many years ago.
A short fic of Bart and Jessica playing in the park at night while its cold out and Jessica offers him her coat because she's already got a sweater and he's only got a pretty thin jacket and she notices he's cold. He's a little confused at the unusual kind gesture but accepts it and she genuinely means it and cares.
Here you are!
Bart underestimated the temperature drop that night. It was still October, and for the most part, the nights hadn’t been that cold yet. All he needed was a light jacket to go out after sundown, and so that’s all he put on when Jessica Lovejoy tossed rocks at his window to get him to come out. It was still warm, although a bit brisk, and he made a few jokes about her being bundled up for the winter the way she wore a puffy pink coat over a gray wool sweater.
“Yeah, my mom always insists on making me wear layers as soon as Labor Day ends,” she said. The two of them walked side by side that evening to the park to play on the swing sets after hours. During the day, all the good ones were taken, and she figured Bart would be a good companion choice just to hang out with. He usually knew all the hiding spots of the spraypaint cans in the area in case they felt a little mischievous. “Probably because I got the flu when I was six, and she’s paranoid it’ll happen again,” she continued.
“I’m surprised she let you out after dark then.”
“Who said I got permission?”
Bart smiled as they arrived at the playground, and Jessica took a seat on the prized swing that was often fought over during normal hours. It had the sturdiest chains and a deeper hole in the sand that gave no kid the fear of dipping and hitting the dirt if they got too low. It also had nothing out in front of it for maximum jumping distance. The little merry-go-round off to the side ruined that for some of the other swings.
“Push me,” she said, and Bart didn’t need to be told twice before he got behind her and gave her a running start.
Jessica’s laughter filled the vacant air of the playground as Bart continued to use all his strength to push her as high as he could to give her the best air time possible. By the time she got memento going, he took his seat on the swing beside hers and rocked himself with all his might so he could catch up to her. That would prove difficult, since even the second swing over had a bit of a rusty chain and sagging seat. There was no way he’d get the same air time she did, or even the height, but he didn’t mind. He knew Jessica well enough to know she preferred to be the best, and he didn’t mind giving up the title to her.
They ended up rotating throughout the different play areas of the park until they wrapped back around to the swings for one last go before they headed home. Surprising to both of them, the other’s company and conversation was much more enjoyable than finding things to tag and graffiti. At least it would make it easy for them if they were to get caught at the park after closing - after all they were just kids having some fun.
But when Bart took his seat on that second swing, a gust of wind came through and he found himself shivering a lot more than he had earlier. The light jacket he wore was starting to prove to be a bad choice as a cold front seemed to be coming in. While Jessica swung in her normal routine, he just sat idly by on his with arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep the wind from hitting him. The last thing he wanted to do was swing and make the conditions worse.
After a while, Jessica noticed, and she yelled out a quick “Bart, watch this!” before she jumped high off the swing and landed perfectly safe in the sand several yards away.
“Great jump, Jessica!” he shouted back, trying to hide his chattering teeth.
The reverend’s daughter wiped some stray sand from her socks and ran back to the swing set to see why Bart wasn’t joining in like he had before. It didn’t take questions to see that the poor thing was shivering like a dog, probably close to freezing to death from the point of view of a kid.
“Oh, here, Bart.” Jessica unzipped her outer coat and slipped it off her sweater. “Do you want this?” She offered it out to him.
Bart got up from the swing to take it without hesitation, but he did have to ask why when he tried to put it on around himself. It wasn’t really like her to be this thoughtful of others, especially him, and he was curious what the catch was. Probably because of its girly shade of pink, and she wanted to tease him or something.
“Having the flu was awful,” she said. “If you got it and died, that would be kinda messed up.”
“Oh...yeah, I guess.” Bart struggled a bit trying to zip it up. The coat was a little snug on him and he was having trouble fitting it around his stomach. Jessica stepped forward to turn him around.
“Here.” She took the coat off his arms and turned him around again to make him put his arms through the holes front-ways. The back of her coat was now fully covering his chest, and although his back was exposed as if he were wearing a short, puffy hospital gown, he was glad at least his chest was warm and could prevent him catching a cold.
“Oh...thank you Jessica.” He hadn’t thought of doing that, and the fact she did for him made him feel special.
“Come on, Bart. I’ll walk you home before the teens come out and make fun of you for wearing pink.”
“Jessica, it’s my favorite color.”
She smiled at him, and he smiled back before the two headed back together down the street.
Out in the Rain - A Simpsons Fic
Hello all! I’m back into the swing of writing this week with my half of a fic trade with @spooky-simp! Thank you for your patience since this has been a crazy week, and I hope you enjoy this story of friendship between Ned and Bart.
Bart’s head was pounding with throbbing aches and pains. His throat was raw and scratchy, and now his clothes were soaking wet with the rain. His eyes and cheeks were still sore from the arguing and the crying from before, even though his world was very quiet now, and they were all just fuzzy memories. Just soft squeaks from the chains of the swing set were his company. That and the rain that pelted the sand into a sludge at his feet.
He slumped over to stare down at his shoes, holding his forehead in his palm as he tried to stop the spinning. The exterior forces of a growing storm were at war with the internal forces of an even bigger storm within him, and the collision made the boy feel trapped in solid stone.
Arguments were always an unfortunate byproduct of a life lived with his family. Bart felt by now he should have gotten used to them, but as he was nearing 15 years old, they only seemed to further agitate the growing boy and pit him against his own sense of self. His emotions were running a race his brain couldn’t run. What he felt was beyond his years of thinking, and while he didn’t know why he felt such sudden and aggressive emotions, it didn’t make them any less painful or mind-consuming. This must be the mess all teenagers go through, and why they really are the worst years of one’s life. The grunge songs of his youth were right.
The rain was coming down harder, and Bart slicked his hair back and sat up to stretch his back. The pain he felt from being hunched over for so long was numbing. The drops of water landed in harsh blows against his skin, and he tried to ignore their small stings while he looked around the dark and deserted playground. The streetlamps were barely an aid in seeing anything - not that expected to see anything.
But then, a bright light appeared somewhere behind him and reflected on the rain drops as they came down in harder sheets with the breeze coming in from the north. Bart turned on his swing, his hand over his brow to see the shadow of a man holding a flashlight, and he could hear the sound of the rain hitting tarp - an umbrella, of course.
Soft footsteps made their way to him and the water was blocked from hitting him further on the swing. His eyes caught the familiar face of his neighbor, and somewhere deep down inside him was a wave of peace.
“Flanders?” Bart asked.
“Hey, I thought that was you, Bart,” the man replied. “What in God’s good graces are you doing out here in this mess?”
“Well, what are you doing out here?”
“I went for a night walk, but I didn’t think the storm would catch up this quickly. Good thing I come prepared.” He motioned to the umbrella. “Now again, son, what are you doing out here?”
Bart wanted to walk away from him to avoid the discussion, but even he had to admit it was nice to be sheltered from the weather, even just a little bit. He instead bowed his head and held himself - in part to shield himself from naggy questions and another to keep himself warm. He was freezing.
“Homer and I had another fight.”
“Oh dear. Well, that’s no good.”
“Yeah, no duh.” Bart rolled his eyes and looked back at him.
“Well, Bart, I’m sure whatever the argument was about isn’t worth you being out in this weather. I’m sure your dad would appreciate it if you went home where you’d be safe. Then you two can talk things out in the morning.”
“Communication may work in your house, Flanders, but not in mine.”
“Then at least go home to protect yourself. Flu season is just around the corner, you know.”
Bart’s hands tightened around the chains of the swing. “I’m not going back there tonight.”
“Not even to your treehouse?”
“No.”
Ned stood there in thought for a moment. “Well, what about my house? It’s not on your property but at least your Mom can see you from the window, and she’ll know you’re okay.”
Bart was quiet.
“Bart?”
“Fine. I’ll do it for her.” He stood up from the swing and walked around to Ned who opened his arm to wrap across his shoulders. His sweater was a welcoming source of heat after being out there for so long. He may be a pissed off teenager, but he wasn’t stupid. Even he didn’t want to get sick because of his father.
They walked the few blocks back to Evergreen Terrace, and Bart only took one glance over at his home while Ned fiddled with his keys to unlock the front door.
“Just take your shoes and coat off at the door. You can get out of those wet clothes in the laundry room and I’ll bring you a fresh pair of Rod’s pajamas. What a blessing you boys grew up together and wear the same size, huh?”
“Uh huh…” Bart was half listening as he slipped off the soaking jacket and hung it up on the rack. The warmth of the house felt like a hug, and one he desperately needed at that.
“Guest room’s where it’s always been. Your toothbrush is still in the cabinet you used last time you were here.”
“How long ago was that?” Bart asked.
“About two months ago I believe.”
That felt like a punch. Before that he could count several more times he’d been a guest in Flanders’ house - just to get away from his own. Had he really been here that many times that he started keeping a toothbrush there?
“....Hey Flanders?”
“Yeah, son?”
Bart stepped over the pile of soaking clothes and gave the man a hug. His first one that he prompted on his own after all these years. One when the two of them were so close to being the same height after so long. Bart was growing up and close to adulthood, and he felt the gesture for his neighbor was long overdue.
“Thank you.”
Ned gave him a soft few pats on the shoulder, not really knowing what else to say aside from his usual, “Anytime, son.”
For the first time in a long time, Bart surprised him by hugging him first. He was growing up.
Hey, are you still doing fic/oneshot requests? If so, can you please do one with Legs and Johnny? I'd really like to know their relationship!
Here’s a lil something!
It was quiet. Too quiet. Without Frankie or Louie around, Johnny and Legs could feel the silence weighing down on their shoulders like bricks. Not even the radio seemed to help much.
It wasn’t every day the two of them were paired up for an assignment together, but per Fat Tony’s request, it was one where the typical bumbling antics of their usual partners would be a liability, so they were tasked to do this one alone. Johnny drove while Legs sat in the passenger seat, flicking a lighter on and off.
The miles passed by without a word from either of them until a car cut them off before heading off on the exit ramp. A mild swear escaped from Johnny’s mouth, but Legs remained quiet as he stared down the back of the van as they passed. Just a civilian mini van with Baby on Board bumper stickers plastered in three places. Overkill.
Johnny must have noticed because the silence broke again. “Shouldn’t drive like that with kids.”
“Dangerous,” Legs agreed.
A bit more silence before Johnny continued. “I got two of my own turning two this year.”
“The twins?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. My lil Biscotti’s gotta be...around four or five by now.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Easter Sunday.”
“Her ma remarry?”
“She’s dating the principal of the elementary school.”
“Ah….”
Legs nodded and the silence once again fell between them.
Stress - Skinnerin Short
I wrote something self indulgent so here you go before I change my mind
Erin’s ears were submerged in the bath, her head cradled by the surface of the water. Strands of her short, dark hair branched out in veins that dipped and swayed with the small ripples created from one soft movement of her leg. The overwhelming smell of lavender and vanilla was enough to drown out her other senses, and she could barely hear the fuzzy sound waves of the TV from the other room. She was sure it was another one of Scottie’s PBS programs, but she had to focus on letting herself go and fade from reality.
This was the first night she got to relax in what felt like years. With school being out for Winter holiday, she noticed Seymour coming over more often, and it wasn’t exactly something she was complaining about. There was the usual asking her out on a date, and once or twice Charlie would be with him to babysit while they went out, and it was enjoyable to change up the routine, but as Christmas crept closer, so was the inevitable seasonal breakdown from stress she kept hidden from everyone around her.
It was a Christmas miracle when once again Seymour appeared at her apartment door. It had been a rough morning with Scottie in particular who was having a bad day herself with her toddler tantrums, and he had to have seen the absolute mess of a state she was in when she opened the door. He didn’t say much to her except that the snowfall expected that night was going to turn into a blizzard, and Agnes was stuck at the nursing home she often visited for the rest of the night. In his words, “I wanted to come over and make sure you two would be safe.”
But without her saying much in response, he took her by the small of her back and guided her back inside, gently nudging her toward the bathroom while he picked up the crying toddler from her crib to try his hand at comforting her. Erin didn’t say anything as she took his silent direction and went straight for her dusty bottle of bubble bath, and she’d been in there ever since…
The crying didn’t last long after she settled into the water, and she had no idea how much time had gone by. She was drifting in and out of consciousness - her exhaustion at war with the bees of depression and anxiety buzzing about in her head. All under that buckling umbrella of single motherhood stress. But the minutes surely ticked well into an hour, and those thoughts were slowly fading away as she let herself just exist in the moment.
Erin didn’t hear when the door opened, and she only shuddered a little when she felt a soft hand carefully nudge her shoulder. Glancing over with squinting eyes, she saw Seymour hovering over the tub with his head twisted to the side, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. How polite.
“Sorry, I’m used to supervising Mother, and it worries me when I don’t hear her calling for me after half an hour.”
It had only been 30 minutes?
“I’m fine..” She rolled over and folded her arms across her chest to censor herself so he felt better about looking at her. “I’ve just been tired...Scottie’s been like that all morning.”
“She’s asleep now, but I’ll stay up with her if you want to get to bed.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven-thirty.”
“Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“No, I was hoping you still had that roast in the fridge I could warm up with some potatoes or something.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Erin rubbed her face, paying special need to her eyes. “It’s still in there, and I have a couple Russets left in the pantry…I think there’s still half a bottle of wine too.”
“Are you sure you feel like drinking?”
“No, but you can have some.”
“No thanks. Just water for me is fine.”
Erin looked up at him and nodded with contentment and understanding of his wishes. She didn’t blame him. As good as a few glasses sounded right now, it was out of the question for her own wellbeing.
“I’ll take care of feeding Scottie too after you get to bed. I finally got her to accept my method of planes over trains.”
Erin smiled while he gave her a kiss on the head and got up to show himself out.
When the door closed again, she sank a little further into the water and felt the heaviness lift from her soul.
She was in love, and for once it was with someone who by tonight alone really loved her back.