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Post by elaine ruth alexander on May 16, 2012 1:52:42 GMT -5
Ellie had only gone into the kitchen to greet her eldest daughter. But once she was settled in and started preparing the lasagna, the older woman removed herself from the room and collapsed on the sofa in the living room, flipping the television on to some random reality show that she had never watched. It was mostly for the noise. She felt out of place in the kitchen even though she'd live in the same house for forty-something years of her life. It just wasn't the same without Don there and seeing her daughter, once a little girl sitting on the kitchen counters, cooking made her think of him. She'd been feeling that way lately, lost and confused, maybe a little nostalgic. She sighed quietly as she rested her elbow on the arm of the couch and propped her head up using her head.
Her youngest daughter came down the stairs. She was headed out - to work or to the animal shelter, Ellie could not remember. She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek before wandering into the kitchen to say "hi" and "bye" to her older sister. There was an awkward silence in the kitchen before the door opened and closed, signaling the departure of her nineteen-year-old. The woman turned her head to glance into the kitchen. Her daughter was busy setting all of the ingredients in the casserole dish. It never took her long to prepare the food, or so it seemed. Ellie turned her head to face the television again but closed her eyes. It wasn't long before she started to doze and her face slid down the palm of her head. It never did take her long to fall asleep. But then her cheek slipped off her hand, forcing her head to drop, and she bolted upright in surprise. Standing there was her redheaded daughter, looking at her with the same motherly smile she used to give her when she was a little girl, the smile that was sympathetic for what had just happened but amused all the same.
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Post by CONSTANCE ALEXANDER VAUGHN on May 16, 2012 2:18:44 GMT -5
It hadn’t come as a surprise to Constance that her mother hadn’t stayed in the kitchen long. The kitchen had always been Dad’s territory, and now that he was gone, Connie couldn’t fault her mom for not wanting to spend an excessive amount of time in the kitchen. Even a year after his death, the kitchen was pretty much exactly as he’d left it. Her mom had never been one to cook, and for as far back as Connie could remember, the kitchen had always been organized the exact same way, just how her father had liked it. It had been the same way for so long that Connie was sure that even now she could’ve navigated through the kitchen blindfolded and not missed a beat—a skill which had come in handy when she’d been a teenager in search of a midnight snack…The kitchen was so familiar that Connie could almost see her seven-year-old self sitting on the counter, covered in flour, probably doing more to hinder than help, asking her father why he was doing each of the things he was doing whilst cooking, how come ovens and stoves were part of the same thing if they had different names, and just about every childish ‘why’ question that came to mind…
Connie looked up from her cooking as her youngest sister came through the kitchen to say hi and bye on her way out the door, Connie giving her a hug and the rhetorical “How’s mom?” before she left. ‘How’s mom’…How should she be a year after her husband passed away? But the part Connie found confusing, and borderline frustrating, was that it was as though her mother refused to react in all the ways that one might think a person ought to act in such a situation. All year Connie had expected her to just start crying, call her in the middle of the night, something. But none of that was really happening the way Connie had been expecting. Sliding the lasagna dish into the oven, Connie washed her hands, drying her hands on a kitchen towel as she walked into the living room where her mother was ‘watching tv’. Or rather, sleeping with her head resting on her hand. As Connie got closer, Ellie’s head slipped off her hand, startling the woman awake, and eliciting a little smile from Connie. Partially sympathetic, mostly amused. “You know, if it’s that boring you should change the channel,” She teased lovingly, going over to sit next to her mother on the couch. “So, how are you, Mama?”
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Post by elaine ruth alexander on May 16, 2012 2:57:54 GMT -5
Ellie saw the look on her daughter's face. She wanted to laugh and make fun of her for falling asleep while she was sitting on the couch. It wouldn't be the first time that she had done it. She could sleep anywhere, including the economy seating of a plane if she were not scared of flights and chose to fly. She rubbed her face with both her hands and let out a sigh as she brought her hand to her neck. After gathering her thoughts, she reached for the remote and turned the television off.
"It's not that it was boring," she said. "I'm just tired." She wasn't really sure why she was so tired since she had gotten a decent amount of sleep the night before and had been for many years. She always managed to sleep in as late as possible, even on the days she had to work, because she had priority scheduling at the diner. Oh, how she loved being a senior employee.
Connie lowered herself onto the couch beside her mother, who was sitting halfway on her legs. She watched as she tried to make herself comfortable and felt a piece of her heart drop into her stomach when she asked the question she always asked: How are you? Ellie nodded her head. "I'm fine," she responded, putting a small smile on her face. It was not her usual response or even her usual wide-mouthed, toothy smile. Not even her eyes looked like they usually did. They usually glowed and laughed. They were distant, lost, confused, troubled. They were even a little sad. But she seemed determined to make everything seem okay. When Don had first died, it had not been a complicated task for her at all. His death was fresh, but she kept telling herself that everything happened for a reason and that he was in a better place. She thought that it would help her get over the grief... but it hadn't. If anything, it only stalled the process and now she was starting to feel like she should have a year ago. "You shoulda brought the monsters. You know how much I love seeing them." And of course, she was trying to get away from the topic about how she was doing and talking about something else: her grandchildren. Usually, she'd talk and talk and talk until someone finally interrupted her, but she was off her game today.
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Post by CONSTANCE ALEXANDER VAUGHN on May 16, 2012 20:29:34 GMT -5
Her mother’s response that she was just tired elicited an instinctual little frown from worry-wart Connie, “You’re not working too hard, are you Mom?” Sure, it was usually mothers who tried to make sure their children weren’t working too hard, but Connie had always sort of assigned herself the role of “Mom # 2” in the family, since there had been so many younger siblings, it probably would have been impossible for her parents to keep track of all of them by themselves. And now that her father was gone, Connie felt….well, responsible for her mother, in a way. In her mind, Ellie had always been there for her, had spent the first twenty years of Connie’s life being the one to take care of her, and so now it was Connie’s turn to take care of Ellie. Plus she just felt sort of out of place if she wasn’t loading responsibilities up upon herself. It was just how she was.
Connie watched her mother carefully as the response was a simple ‘I’m fine’ but was without her mother’s usual enthusiasm and zest. The next comment only solidified Connie’s thought that something was definitely out of place, because, as much as Connie knew that her mother did adore her grandchildren, the comment was quite clearly a diversion tactic. “I thought about bringing them, but you know as well as I do that if I had they never would’ve gotten their homework done,” she replied lightly, a little smile flickering on the corners of her lips for a moment, before she reached over to gently squeeze her mother’s hand. “Just ‘fine’, Mom?” She asked sympathetically, “You know…I sometimes have to remind my students this, but, it’s ok to not be fine all the time.”
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Post by elaine ruth alexander on May 16, 2012 22:43:35 GMT -5
"Too hard?" Ellie scoffed. She shook her head and brushed her hair from her face. "I don't feel like I'm working enough. I have all this free time and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with it." She sighed heavily and swallowed. The saliva did not go down quickly or easily, but she managed to choke it down anyway. She looked at her hands resting on her lap before her eyes were drawn to the tattoo on her arm. She stared at it for a moment before pushing her glasses off her face and onto the top of her head. She couldn't really see anything, but that was fine with her. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her daughter, her eldest child. She looked like she had aged considerably in the past couple of months, which would not have been surprising in the least. Her husband had always been the one she talked to or made fun of or had an intimate relationship with. It had been a year since any of that had taken place in her life, and she was beginning to realize how much she missed it and wanted it and maybe even needed it.
When her daughter started making excuses as to why the children could not come, the woman nodded her head in agreement. She knew that her grandchildren would not do their homework if they visited, but... homework wasn't really that important. They were smart kids and missing out on a homework assignment here or there would not kill them. "I know, honey, but one assignment isn't going to kill them. I'd like to see them some, you know?" She tilted her head to the side. It helped her to see her daughter a little better, but not much. Things were still a little blurry. She and her husband always joked that their marriage had lasted as long as it did because they both took their glasses/contacts off before bed. Ellie used to wear contacts all the time, but she realized how much they irritated her eyes and changed to glasses; Don had always worn contacts.
Ellie felt her daughter's hand grasp hers. She did not pay it any mind for the first few seconds, but she slowly began to tighten the grip. "I know, but I'm not one of your students, Con," she stated simply. She was not annoyed or particularly upset about it. She just hated the fact that her daughter was treating her like one of kids she taught. She sighed. "I know it's okay to get lost every once in a while. Trust me. I know. But... really, I'm fine." She pulled her hand away from her daughter's grasp and rested it back on her lap with her right hand. She inhaled deeply through her nose and stared at the blank television screen, letting her mind venture off into other places. She didn't know where, but it definitely wasn't where it should have been.
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Post by CONSTANCE ALEXANDER VAUGHN on May 17, 2012 2:21:08 GMT -5
“You’re supposed to relax with free time,” Connie replied with a lighthearted undertone to her comment, “take up a new hobby or something,” She added the suggestion as an afterthought, after trying and failing to think of something really fun and exciting to suggest as a way for her mother to fill up her extra time. “And you know if you’re bored, you know where I live, and you’re always welcome at our place.” She knew that her mother was aware that her presence was always welcome in the Vaughn home, but it never hurt to offer a reminder. Connie’s husband and children all adored Ellie, and would have welcomed her in with open arms in a second if she dropped by out of loneliness or boredom.
She smiled a little as her mother brushed off the homework excuse, running a hand through her red hair,“Now I wish that excuse had worked when I was a kid… ‘Mom can I go over to Stacey’s house? It’s only one assignment..’” Connie smiled a little over at her mother as the older woman tilted her head to one side. “And you see them lots, Mom. Plus, you’re my mom, I get to be selfish and want you all to myself sometimes, too.” Was it a little selfish, and possibly not the exact correct excuse? Sure, but Connie did enjoy spending time alone with her mother. Especially now, when she worried about her. It reassured Connie that things were going to be alright, even though she was still concerned about her mother’s happiness. She knew it had to be a lot harder than she was letting on; Connie couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to lose her own husband…
Ellie pulled her hand away from Connie’s, gently seeming to reprimand her for her worrying. “Well when you’re not fine, remember you’ve got me right here if you need me.” Her mother had always been there for her, and it only seemed fair to Connie to remind her mother that whenever she needed someone, she’d always have her right there for her.
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Post by elaine ruth alexander on May 17, 2012 3:04:43 GMT -5
"That's not me, Connie. That's not who I am. I've got nine kids. I've spent my entire life running around in circles chasing after all of you and... it's just not easy to go from that to... to doing absolutely nothing," she explained. It was true. She had had her eldest child at the age of twenty, and she had spent the years following running after her children. She sighed and rested her head on the back of the couch. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift to other places. At first, it was completely blank, probably for the first time in a while, but then she began seeing all of her children's figures running around in her head. She remembered every little step they took and every mess they made. She remembered having to chase after them so that they were not tumbling down the stairs or beating each other with baby dolls. Her life was anything but relaxing. Yes, she had had moments in which she was able to sit back and take a breather, but those moments were always spent with her husband. They would sit outside on the porch swing in the silence. Sometimes she'd smoke a cigarettes or they'd talk about things that weren't important. Or they would lie in bed and stare into each other's eyes. And sometimes they would take a shower together and do nothing more than give each other gentle kisses and wash the other's hair. It was those little things that helped Ellie relax. But now she not only had nothing to do, but no outlet. She didn't have her husband to keep her company anymore. Sure, Matilda lived at home and her other children visited, but it wasn't the same. Matilda wasn't a baby anymore. She was nineteen, had a job, volunteered at the animal shelter, and went to school. That was more than Ellie could truly say she had done. She only had a high school education, a job at the diner, and nine gorgeous children.
When her daughter suggested that she visit if she ever got bored, the woman turned her head and open her eyes. She still had her glasses atop her head and her head resting against the back of the couch. "I don't like going to your house. Why do you think we always have Thanksgiving and Christmas here? I feel uncomfortable and out of place. Your house is too clean and white and... I feel like you live in a museum with all of those pictures and the decorations and... I probably sound stupid, don't I?" Ellie's home was nothing like her daughter's. She had never been particularly good at organizing things or keeping house; that had all been Don's job. But even then, things were still out of place. There were still places on the awkwardly colored carpet in the living room where she had spilled Diet Coke or her children had spilled Kool-Aid. On the wall behind the doors in one of her children's rooms was a drawing that her eldest son had done when he was three and discovered crayons. Everything in Ellie's house was simple, very homely. And... it wasn't that Connie's house lacked homeliness, but she felt that it was more uptight and she always felt the need to remove her shoes even though her daughter told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to (even though she did because she hated shoes anyway). But in her house... there were places where mud had been tracked onto the floor and had never come out, mostly because she didn't clean it. The house was lived-in and that was why she liked it. That was why she felt so comfortable.
Her daughter teased about the homework assignments, and Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. Connie always did have a tendency to try and use her words against her, not that she minded. Sometimes she said things that didn't make sense, and Connie pointed them out majority of the time. "Yeah, well... me seeing my grandbabies is different than you seeing a friend. I mean, really..." She laughed half-heartedly and shook her head. Finally, she reached up for her glasses on top of her head and set them on the end table by the sofa. She probably should have been wearing her glasses, but she just didn't want to.
Her daughter gave her a gentle reminder that she liked spending time with her mother alone and then went on to say that whenever she wasn't "fine," she would be there. Ellie leaned over and rested her head on her daughter's shoulder, wrapping her right arm around her daughter's body to give her an awkward hug. She closed her eyes. "I love you," she said quietly.
And then there was a silence. It seemed like hours had gone by before Ellie opened her mouth to speak again.
"I'd by lying if I said I didn't miss your dad," she admitted. She kept her head on her daughter's shoulder, her arm around her body, and her eyes closed. She inhaled. "I think about him all the time."
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