TwiFicMas2020 Day 2: Kidfic
Happy Day 2! Nothing interesting to say today, just on with the offering.
This was written as part of an anthology entitled ‘Five Ways Alice & Jasper Never Met’, which remains unfinished *gestures at WIP list*. After the messed up life I gave the Whitlocks in Against A Wall, I decided I should probably show the family having a slightly happier life. I feel like there’s probably the potential of a series of ficlets in this, showing the pair growing up together, but we’ll see.
Alice being adopted by teacher-Esme and doctor-Carlisle was definitely influenced by the sweetest fic, A Family For Alice by kr2009.
—
Louise Whitlock stacked the leftover pizza in the fridge, long since ready for bed. It had been a very long day. It had been a very long year.
Juggling four kids and a full-time job was exhausting in ways Louise had never considered. The errands list on the fridge was already two pages long; and that didn’t include the other lists on her phone, in her date-book, and doodled on the whiteboard next to the fridge.
It had been over twelve months since she had decided that, after her husband’s sudden death, she couldn’t stay in Texas. She needed a fresh start. And so did her kids. At first, she had just planned to stay in the south, find some small town with a hospital that needed a nurse. Far away enough to get some space, but close enough to be familiar. And be near friends and family.
She didn’t even know why she applied to a hospital in a tiny Pacific Northwest town, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe facing down bills she couldn’t comfortably pay, living in a house that was haunted with memories of her husband, she had applied. It was the furthest place she could imagine from home, without leaving the country.
And then she got the job, and there was really no good reason to turn down the offer, especially when they offered to cover some moving expenses. She had wanted a fresh start, after all.
Looking up Forks to try and convince her kids of how wonderful the move would be had been a shock to all of them. Her three girls had been horrified – no cinema, no malls, very few sporting teams; the rainiest place is the entire country, and the house that Louise had chosen, thinking it was cute, suddenly looked small and cramped when she saw it through her daughters’ eyes. Ten-year-old Lydia had freaked out at leaving her grandparents and her cousins behind; twelve-year-old Ava threw screaming fits about leaving behind their father’s grave. And Fern did nothing but whine about how boring Forks would be.
And then there was Jasper. Jasper had been in the car with Will when it crashed, leaving her baby boy covered in nasty scars. He had only been four, a little ray of sunshine who was always giggling. But afterwards, he was so sad and angry and quiet. He just didn’t talk much. Didn’t smile. It was almost as if she’d lost her baby boy in that accident at the same time. He just shrugged at Louise’s attempt to discuss their move to Forks, staring down at his Lego model.
It had been completely miserable. After she finally got the kids to understand that it was happening, and nothing they could say would change Louise’s mind, she had to deal with her extended friends and family trying to convince her not to leave. Will’s parents had actually threatened legal action to keep their grandkids in the state; by the time the house was sold, Louise wasn’t entirely sure they were even speaking to her.
The truth was that she had no idea if it was a good plan. No one seemed happy or positive about her plan; no one seemed to want to understand why they had to go. Even Louise was conflicted - was this her way of healing, of embracing a new normal and their new reality, or was she running away?
But a year later, looking back, she knew she’d done the right thing - just by looking at her son.
They had arrived in Forks on a rainy day – water falling from the sky in sheets – and Louise then spent a hellish week unpacking, trying to calm down three girls who thought Forks was worse than prison, and getting all four of the kids registered and ready for school before she started at the hospital. It was exhausting and frustrating in new ways – proper grocery shops involved driving to the next town over, since Forks only boasted a mini-mart; despite her best efforts, Ava and Jasper both needed new weather-appropriate clothing, whilst Lydia and Fern pitched fits about their hand-me-downs.
And the house was far from perfect - the carpet was filthy, the bathroom tiles were chipped and loose, Fern’s bedroom window had been broken in a storm, and the kitchen ceiling leaked. It was enough to make Louise to actually contemplate calling her mother for the money to drag the kids back to Texas. This wasn’t what she had signed up for.
But finally, the first day of school – and work – dawned. And it was chaos - Ava couldn’t find her backpack, Lydia wouldn’t get out of bed, and Fern was hysterical about starting at a new school. Jasper was just silent and solemn in front of his cereal, whilst Louise tried to remember where she’d left her own paperwork.
But miraculously, they made it out of the house on time. Forks had a combination Middle-Elementary school, so it was only one drop-off – at least for the next couple of years. And it looked like a nice school - lots of green space for the kids to run when it wasn’t raining, cheery murals on the walls, and many happy-sounding kids crowding the parking lot. That was always a good sign.
Ava, Lydia and Fern loudly protested their mother escorting them into their classrooms, and headed off to class with their assigned guides, all three of them looking like soldiers bracing for battle.
But Jasper was still glued to her side, staring blankly ahead. It was only because she knew her boy well that Louise noticed the nervous way he tugged at his hoodie as they headed towards the kindergarten building.
The kindergarteners were scattered throughout their gated playground – a sea of giggling, happy faces. One particularly pretty little blonde girl was perched at the highest point of the climbing frame – pink hair ribbons, pink Mary-Janes, even her little pink jeans had ruffles on them – smirking at the boys below, trying to climb up with her, but were struggling to find the right footholds. Two other little girls were sitting on the swings, whilst a redheaded boy lingered in the background, clearly trying to join in their conversation.
Kickball games, chase games, squealing and laughing and yelling: it was happy five-year-old chaos.
Jasper was hanging back, looking concerned, his fingers twisted through Louise’s belt loops. She’d had to call him back on his very first day of school last semester to say good-bye; Peter and Charlotte had been sitting alone, and he’d raced up to them, so eager for friends he’d left without saying good bye or even taking his backpack.
And now he was here, hiding behind her and pleading with his eyes not to leave him.
Her poor baby.
“We have free play until nine o clock, unless it’s raining,” the teacher, a Ms Yorkie said sweetly, noticing Jasper’s reluctance. “Kick-ball, and hopscotch, and climbing, and tag.” She looked around the playground, and pointed at the climbing frame – a solid looking boy was sitting on the railings below the pink clad girl, laughing. “There’s Emmett and Rosalie. They’re very nice, would you like to meet them?”
Jasper shook his head and buried his face against Louise’s hip.
Miss Yorkie exchanged a look with Louise – it was the universal look of a kindergarten teacher warning that the separation would be ugly, but it would have to happen – the faster it happened, the better it would be for everyone.
“Jasper-”
“Hello!”
Louise turned around at the interruption to see a tiny little girl standing behind her. She looked like a little doll, with black hair cut in a bob, with an enormous red bow in her hair, a red dress over tights, and a pair of well-loved mary-janes.
She was beaming at Jasper, and held out her hand. “I’m Alice. Come and play.”
Jasper stared at her.
Louise didn’t expect Jasper to respond at all, to dismiss or outright ignore the invitation. Ms Yorkie was smiling at the little girl – Alice – who seemed to be bouncing with either energy or excitement.
Jasper stared at Alice for a moment, before stepping out from behind Louise, and taking Alice’s hand.
“D’you like monkey bars?” Alice asked as she dragged Jasper after her. “I like monkey bars.”
Louise watched as Jasper shed his backpack, and joined Alice, never looking back. She could see the little girl still talking to her son.
“He’ll be just fine,” Ms Yorkie said to her. “Alice will take care of him.”
Louise nodded and thanked the teacher, turning to leave.
As she slipped out the gate, she heard a squeal of laughter, and looked back to see Jasper holding little Alice around her legs so she could reach the monkey bars and swing all the way to the other side. Alice was giggling so hard she could barely grip the rails, and Jasper had a tiny smile on his face.
And that was enough for Louise.
--
It didn’t take long for Louise to learn about little Alice, and her family. Her full name was Mary-Alice Cullen, and she was the adoptive daughter of the local surgeon and his wife - who was an English teacher for the middle school students. They lived just outside town, and every afternoon, Alice would dash out the gates and into the middle school to find her mother.
It was easy to pick Alice in a crowd – not only did she wear bright colours, she always wore an enormous bow in her hair; it was almost like a satellite. Having seen how quickly the little girl could move, Louise had to wonder if the largeness of the hair accessories, and brightness of the clothing wasn’t completely intentional.
And where Alice went, so went Jasper.
Every single morning, Alice would be waiting faithfully at the kindergarten gates for Jasper; on the rainiest days, Ms Yorkie had to retrieve her several times from standing out in her raincoat and gumboots – a nearly blinding pink and yellow ensemble. And every time she spotted Jasper, she’d bounce on her toes, clapping and beaming with happiness. Louise couldn’t help wondering if Alice Cullen was the reason the kindergarten was enclosed with a fence.
Alice’s friendship with Jasper brought good things to all of them. Alice had had her mother call up Louise that very first weekend Jasper was in school, with an invitation for Louise, Jasper, and the girls to join them for a weekend barbecue they were hosting.
Esme Cullen was a sweet and gentle woman, who clearly doted on her daughter. The Cullens had the most magnificent house, with a garden that spilled into the forest. Esme had taken the opportunity to invite some other local families, especially those with children the same as Louise’s. It had been nice to talk to other adults, ones that didn’t know her whole story from birth for once in her life. Who didn’t look at her and the kids, and have pity written all over their faces.
And that’s how they settled into Forks. It was strange, how Alice brought Jasper back to life, dragged them all into the fabric of Forks. They became inseparable; when Jasper started soccer, Alice joined the team too, complete with pink cleats and enormous hair ribbons printed with tiny soccer balls. When Alice broke her arm falling off the monkey bars, Jasper had spent the entire weekend sitting at the end of her bed, glaring at any doctor or nurse who caused her pain or scared her. Jasper joined the Cullen family for at two vacations – one camping trip, one beach holiday. On the nights when Louise pulled the night shift, it was Dr and Mrs Cullen who had all four of the Whitlock children to stay, so Louise didn’t have to pay for an overnight babysitter.
It didn’t take long for Alice’s other friends to warm to Jasper either; Alice’s closest female friend was a girl named Rosalie Hale, whom Louise recognised as the pink-clad girl from the first day. A plain-spoken but beautiful girl, Rose was always clad in shades of pink, and seemed to be more of a set-piece for her parents than a child. She was obsessed with Jasper’s car racing set, and more than one rainy Sunday ended with both Rosalie and Jasper sprawled on the carpet, racing those remote-controlled cars.
Emmett McCarty was another of Alice’s friends – a tall, solid boy who seemed to always be laughing – who marched up to Jasper one day, introduced himself, and that was that. The middle child of half a dozen kids, Emmett was full of mischief and fun. The boys had begun construction of a club house in the forest just outside the Whitlock’s back fence, a hopeful lean-to that Louise didn’t think would last longer than the first bad wind. For a moment, she was sad that Will wasn’t there to help Jasper build a proper treehouse or clubhouse for the backyard. But, eventually, she realised that it wasn’t the actual clubhouse the boys wanted; it was the building and planning they had fun with.
There were other two that hovered on the fringes of their group - Isabella Swan and Edward Masen. They were similar – both quiet, awkward, and fairly disinterested in the games the others would engage in, but would tag along. Louise felt sorry for them – Isabella’s mother had divorced her father and left town before the Whitlocks had arrived in Forks, and the little girl seemed to be taking it hard. Edward’s parents were both older, and didn’t seem to understand how little boys were supposed to act, discouraging loud, rowdy games, or sport, and preferring for him to spend his time practicing the piano or reading quietly.
But Alice welcomed them, and so the others did too; though Louise noticed Jasper wasn’t thrilled with Alice lavishing her attention on Edward. The only one less thrilled with the addition of Edward was Rosalie; the two of them fought like cats and dogs, and the Cullens and Louise both had stories of trying to break up whatever argument they had gotten into. Even Louise’s own daughters didn’t have such loud, angry arguments with each other that Rosalie and Edward had.
Everyone was happier in Forks. At ballet practice, Lydia had met twin girls from the Quileute reservation – Rebecca and Rachel – and the three of them were as thick as thieves. Ava had a friend in a girl called Tanya, and Fern had fallen in with a pair of cousins called Leah and Emily. Most weekends and vacations, Louise’s house was overflowing with children, and she couldn’t say that she didn’t enjoy it.
Her kids were happy. That was all she really wanted from the move in the first place.
Tonight, there were nine children under her roof; nine kids who had tumbled into the kitchen to wolf down pizza and soda, and were now tucked in their bedrooms. She knew that Ava and Tanya were up in Ava’s room, giving each other make-overs, and that Lydia and the twins were in the middle of one of their huge and incredibly messy art projects – Lydia’s bedroom usually looked like a giant art and craft project, with glitter and paint everywhere. And Leah and Fern would play elaborate games with their Barbie dolls until they passed out. The girls knew the rules: ‘bedtime’ just meant ‘quiet games in their bedrooms’ during sleepovers. Louise wouldn’t enforce sleep unless they woke her up.
And then there were the other two.
Louise paused to look into the living room, the television still flickering some cartoon. Two little figures were sprawled out on sleeping bags – one bright blue, one sparkly pink – on the floor. They were almost sharing a pillow; one of Alice’s arms thrown over Jasper’s chest, clad in the pinkest, most ruffled nightgown Louise had ever seen. Jasper’s plush dog was tucked under one arm, and Alice’s rag doll was squished between them.
It didn’t matter how many times they begged to be able to stay up late - watching movies or television, or playing one of their elaborate games with action figures – they always fell asleep long before they planned to.
Snapping off the television and the lights, Louise smiled to herself. She remembered her own mother’s stories about her and Will. How inseparable they had been as children - there was always a place at the dinner table for both of them, that it was perfectly normal for Will to spend the night in the bunk below hers. Everyone had warned her parents their friendship would fizzle out in middle and high school.
But it hadn’t. It never would have. Will Whitlock had been her best friend for two decades before he became her husband, and she never forgot that. It might even have been the part of him she missed the most. There was only one thing that could have broken them apart – Will not paying attention to the road and dying in a head-on collision. And only one thing had helped Louise keep it together - their beautiful children.
Maybe it was just a pretty thought; that Alice and Jasper would follow in hers and Will’s footsteps – childhood, the teen years, high school and college, a wedding and a family. That they’d forget all about the time before they met, because they were so in tune that it was strange to think of a time they weren’t friends. Maybe they wouldn’t fall in love; maybe they’d just be crazy-best-friends for life, dragging spouses on vacations to visit, an endless stream of emails and Skype calls. Or even fall out and drift apart – a name in a yearbook, and a hazy memory.
But Louise thought about all the little things – the text messages Mrs Cullen sent her to warn Jasper when Alice was sick on school days; Jasper saving the green lollipops he got from the businesses around town, because Alice liked the green ones the best. Alice tackle-hugging him whenever a weekend went by without them seeing each other. Alice beating up the boy who made fun of Jasper’s scars, her knees and palms skinned and bloody as she defended herself to the teacher, Jasper holding her backpack and looking stunned.
Louise knew that loyalty.
It might not turn out to be anything, but she was definitely betting on Alice Cullen being by her son’s side forever.