Post by Icon Lady Eva Hikari on Feb 14, 2015 7:51:17 GMT -6
Nomming with Nemesis may have been years old, but the former world champion apparently still had the baking bug. It was an easy distraction when accompanied by chefs likely to get bored and wander away once the messy bit was done and the mixing bowl licked clean. It had taken longer to get the mix out of Lucan’s hair than it had to actually bake the cakes. George had run off with the spoon, waving it about as she held it away from her brother. The result had been catastrophic for the kitchen and living room. Two sticky toddlers could do more damage than most natural disasters when they put their mind to it. As Corbins you know destruction was somewhere in their thoughts at the time. At least that was what their mother always assumed. Lucy and Daniel had helped clean up, wiping mixture of walls and furniture alike. While Eva fought one of the hardest handicap matches of her life, wrestling the twins into the bath and down for their naps. It was a hard fought battle, with a very near win for Lucan when he cried his sad, heartbroken cry because Georgia had more bubbles than him. In a shared bath, they were shared bubbles. A tired three year old could create unfair advantages even the biggest heel wouldn’t think of. They were tucked up safe and asleep, out as soon as their heads hit their pillows. Eva knew this because she had checked, moving silently from room to room in her usual paranoid way. Like most parents she needed to know where her children were at all times. Unlike most parents the nightmare images and what ifs conjured by not finding them were all too real memories. Daniel was lying across his bed, yellow converse still on and his feet on his pillow. From the sounds of it, he was doing what any normal child did when faced with Lara Croft…….locking her butler in the meat freezer and running away to hide.
Shaking her head with the make believe notion that he’d grow bored and actually play the game eventually, she left him to it. Lucy was still in the kitchen, the smells of freshly baked cakes filled the room. It pulled Eva back to a time so very long ago, a memory so scratched and faded it barely existed anymore. She pushed it away with a warm smile for her daughter. Lucy was still wearing her floury apron. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, the odd errant strand fell from behind her ears as she leaned over the cupcake she was decorating. Her face was an absolute picture of concentration as she piped icing. She was artistic and patient enough to actually be pretty good at it. Watching her, Eva picked up her cooling coffee as she leant against the table across from her.
Having fun?
Yes, it’s easier to do this with Lucan and Georgia asleep though…..they touch everything.
It’s what little guys do Luce. Hayden used to be the same when we were little.
Her mother didn’t talk much about when she was small. Of course it had to have been true at some point. She hadn’t always been a grown up…..it didn’t work like that. Lucy could count on one hand the amount of times she’d shared anything from her childhood though. It was odd. Her Grandma always talked about her dad and uncle when they were little guys. Her Mama, she never said a word. She was curious, or as her Mum might have put it, nosey. Adding a wafer flower to the top of her cake she pulls over a plain one to ice. Her attention seemingly fixed on her task.
Did you used to make cakes with your Mum too?
It was futile to try and brush the flour off her apron at this point, yet the raven haired beauty attempted it. Her mug of coffee still held in her right hand, her eyes somewhere far, far away as if she wasn’t even listening. Her voice came back to her then, her smile wavering as she spoke.
Aye, Mama always used to make stuff with us. She used to tell William off for pinching all the raisins.
Oh…..but did you make them with your mum?
Stealing a glance at the woman, Lucy almost regretted her question. It was amazing the things you could pick up from the grown ups when they thought you weren’t listening. Daniel too had been pretty quick to point out a few things she hadn’t known about the woman she thought of as mother. She’d explored the big house in Yorkshire, she’d found the pictures of a lady who looked a lot like Eva and nothing at all like Constance. They weren’t very well hidden….just out of sight in most cases. Like Eva wanted them there but couldn’t bring herself to look. The knowledge of adulthood robbing her of the innocence that had let her look fondly upon them. Of course Lucy didn’t know that, she was connecting dots and trying to work it all out…..Like the inquisitive young girl she had been raised to be. There was no malice in her question and no harm that Eva could see in telling her the truth for now…….or as much of the truth as she could.
Yes. I was very little though. The only thing I can really remember is the scones. Mum made her own jam and everything. We’d have them with tea…..
Tired eyes peered into nothing, seeing beyond the garden and its three inhabitants. The chubby baby sitting on the blanket beside bruised legs and bare feet crooned to her own reflection. Her mother was just a casualty of a coffee table in a darkened room. The cause of the vacant stare and shaking hands, the tea poured as the china cups rattled. The sweet treats on the table a peace offering to the children, or a way to buy their silence? It worked for a while though didn’t it? Jam covered and sticking to her scruffy looking teddy bear Eva allowed her silence to be brought. Taking a sip of her drink Eva shrugged her shoulders. Lucy was halfway through her second cupcake, this one a shocking shade of green. It was slowly becoming a frog, though the child’s attention remained on the woman.
Why don’t you make scones anymore? Does it make you think of her?
Because they made her gag, the thought of them, the cloggy sweetness clawing at her throat was enough. It had all been an act, tea parties acted out. Scripts learned and mastered so no questions were asked. They’d both known, and both played their parts. If you pretend this, I’ll pretend that. Eva had seen too much, become aware of too much. Even as a child you can’t cling to make believe when it’s forced out of you. Scratching her head and stretching as she stands the young woman looked briefly thoughtful. It wasn’t unusual for one or even both of the bigger kids to ask questions like this. It just usually had a trigger. She hadn’t seen one, not recently. Though maybe that was the issue, something was wrong and she couldn’t see it. Flicking the switch to the kettle she turns her attention to her daughter. She’d been watching her move, only looking back at her cakes when she realises she’s being watched.
It was mum’s thing…... I can’t make them as good as her.
You could make them better?
Broken, bleeding, too weak to move. Yet she finds the strength when she needs it. Not against him…no, never that. The scream pulled her from her daze, the crying child shocked enough to forget that we don’t make noise when he’s home. He wasn’t though, not now, he’d had his fill and stalked off to drown. His knuckles grazed and broken unnoticed in the dusky light of the local, unseen by all but them closest. Details she’d not noticed, not been able to see through her child eyes were vivid in her adult mind. Every insult and injury bestowed under the guise of love flared brighter, a soft voice nurturing and calm even through gritted teeth. The small hand holding tightly, as if she could fix it with all her strength. If she pulled hard enough she could take her into the big house with her. “It’s alright Evie, I’ll make some treats for tea and it’ll all be okay.” She could still taste the tea if she thought about it. Stewed and strong enough to stand a spoon in…your mugs would never be white again with that stuff. She had picked up the teabags, only now found the coffee more desirable. Bitter was something she could cope with. Lucy had been watching intently from over her different coloured icings.
Do you miss her?
I don’t suppose I remember much of her to miss. I was very little when she got ill. Younger than you are. When you get to my age you don’t remember things from that long ago too well.
Nodding as if this answered the unspoken question she’d just been about to ask Lucy turns her attention back to her cakes. She was too much like Eva. In her short life she had seen too much, knew enough to guess at the things she didn’t fully understand and worry about them. Pushing a mug of tea beside her daughter, Eva took a seat. She was closer to Lucy than she’d have ever thought possible. Though she didn’t need that bond to tell her that something was up.
What’s this really all about sweetie?
Silence, awkward rather than their usual comfortable breaks falls between them. The little girl chewing on her lip and she concentrated on drawing on the cake. Eva watching, waiting until she felt comfortable enough to voice her thoughts.
I know you aren’t my real mum…..not like you’re Lucan and Georgia’s mum. And I know that mama isn’t your real mum. And you’re nothing like Mama…..She’s mean and crankly an-
Old, but yes. I’m mean and cranky too. I just hide it better. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to you, sweetheart. I love you just as much as Zippy and George. You were my first baby and nothing can ever change that.
I know, and I love you too…but that lady said-
The silence was shattering as the little girl caught herself. She didn’t want to mention Davina, not after seeing the look in her mother’s face the last time. She had been calling more frequently though. It didn’t seem to matter where they were, which city or state. It wasn’t really as if she said much either. Just, the things she did say…..She had expected her mum to be hurt, angry maybe. Instead she just looked lost. Shaking her head the young woman seemed to hide behind her coffee.
You promised to tell me if she called again.
I know….and I’m sorry Mummy but….she said things.
Blood running cold at the thought of just what this woman could have forced upon her child this time she does a pretty good impression of calm. Swallowing hard and trying to pretend her heart wasn’t threatening to burst through her rib cage Eva very carefully turned the little girl to face her.
Talk to me sweetheart. What did she say?
Her eyes locked onto her mother’s. The same piercing green as her father, only now they defiantly fought tears.
Horrible things mostly…..lies! She said you and dad didn’t love me as much now you had Lucan and Georgia. She said she was my Mum and I should be with her. That she had me so I was hers. That just cause your mum didn’t want you, and you were raised by a witch….I think she said witch. Doesn’t mean you should be allowed to take everyone else’s kid…..
The words came pouring out leaving the raven haired lass to wonder just how many calls this woman had made. The distress in the little girl’s face was heartbreaking, but once she’d started there was no stopping. The endless half truths kept spilling, twisted enough to bend and crack without being entirely unbelievable.
She said you were lying about her…..
Oh but that one was true. She had always lied about Davina. Stretching the truth enough to make her seem like a decent human being and completely whitewashing the worst of her sins. Lucy had no idea of the trouble she had caused when she first arrived in GZW. No inclination as to why she was born or how she was treated when small. No idea at all about attacking Eva and endangering the twins. The amount of explaining that one took without actually having to lie could have earned Eva an Oscar. While jumping at every shadow she had somehow managed to blame herself and make it believable. It was a coffee table in a darkened room………Of course Davina had no way of knowing that Eva had tried to protect Lucy from that. She had never once uttered a bad word about her in front of her children. Mean was the worst, and she’d have happily kept it that way. If Lucy was going to have any feelings at all towards her biological mother, she sure as hell wouldn’t be influencing them with her less than amazing opinion. Lucy had to make her own choices, and as the wicked stepmother, like them or not. Eva would respect them.
She said you hurt her face!
That one is true…..
She at least had the decency to sound a little ashamed of herself. Anger had sunk its tendrils deep and was flowing through her fed and fattened by her anxiety when it came to that woman. Yet she sounded calm. Maybe she could remember more of her mother than she thought. She was ashamed, that it had come to this, that she hadn’t done more. That she was having this conversation with a nine year old? You could hazard a guess at any and all but anger was rapidly taking over. With it came calm. That startling contrast that hit before a storm of rage and pain. Her voice was level when she spoke, yet deliberately comforting.
Though it was a very long time ago……I was fighting for you and your Dad….and she threatened my world. It doesn’t make it right though…
You should have done more. You should have hurt her so much she never came back. I know your mum died, your real mum and that made you sad. It still makes you sad…….but if that happened to me-
Lucy! That’s no way to talk. You don’t mean that and you shouldn’t wish death on folk.
She was crying now, tears falling seemingly unnoticed. Just what the hell had that woman said? Brushing her tears away and taking a deep calming breath the little girl looks up at Eva. All at once she appeared grown beyond her years. At the same time she looked so very small and helpless.
Mummy, I need to go see her…….
Shaking her head with the make believe notion that he’d grow bored and actually play the game eventually, she left him to it. Lucy was still in the kitchen, the smells of freshly baked cakes filled the room. It pulled Eva back to a time so very long ago, a memory so scratched and faded it barely existed anymore. She pushed it away with a warm smile for her daughter. Lucy was still wearing her floury apron. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, the odd errant strand fell from behind her ears as she leaned over the cupcake she was decorating. Her face was an absolute picture of concentration as she piped icing. She was artistic and patient enough to actually be pretty good at it. Watching her, Eva picked up her cooling coffee as she leant against the table across from her.
Having fun?
Yes, it’s easier to do this with Lucan and Georgia asleep though…..they touch everything.
It’s what little guys do Luce. Hayden used to be the same when we were little.
Her mother didn’t talk much about when she was small. Of course it had to have been true at some point. She hadn’t always been a grown up…..it didn’t work like that. Lucy could count on one hand the amount of times she’d shared anything from her childhood though. It was odd. Her Grandma always talked about her dad and uncle when they were little guys. Her Mama, she never said a word. She was curious, or as her Mum might have put it, nosey. Adding a wafer flower to the top of her cake she pulls over a plain one to ice. Her attention seemingly fixed on her task.
Did you used to make cakes with your Mum too?
It was futile to try and brush the flour off her apron at this point, yet the raven haired beauty attempted it. Her mug of coffee still held in her right hand, her eyes somewhere far, far away as if she wasn’t even listening. Her voice came back to her then, her smile wavering as she spoke.
Aye, Mama always used to make stuff with us. She used to tell William off for pinching all the raisins.
Oh…..but did you make them with your mum?
Stealing a glance at the woman, Lucy almost regretted her question. It was amazing the things you could pick up from the grown ups when they thought you weren’t listening. Daniel too had been pretty quick to point out a few things she hadn’t known about the woman she thought of as mother. She’d explored the big house in Yorkshire, she’d found the pictures of a lady who looked a lot like Eva and nothing at all like Constance. They weren’t very well hidden….just out of sight in most cases. Like Eva wanted them there but couldn’t bring herself to look. The knowledge of adulthood robbing her of the innocence that had let her look fondly upon them. Of course Lucy didn’t know that, she was connecting dots and trying to work it all out…..Like the inquisitive young girl she had been raised to be. There was no malice in her question and no harm that Eva could see in telling her the truth for now…….or as much of the truth as she could.
Yes. I was very little though. The only thing I can really remember is the scones. Mum made her own jam and everything. We’d have them with tea…..
Tired eyes peered into nothing, seeing beyond the garden and its three inhabitants. The chubby baby sitting on the blanket beside bruised legs and bare feet crooned to her own reflection. Her mother was just a casualty of a coffee table in a darkened room. The cause of the vacant stare and shaking hands, the tea poured as the china cups rattled. The sweet treats on the table a peace offering to the children, or a way to buy their silence? It worked for a while though didn’t it? Jam covered and sticking to her scruffy looking teddy bear Eva allowed her silence to be brought. Taking a sip of her drink Eva shrugged her shoulders. Lucy was halfway through her second cupcake, this one a shocking shade of green. It was slowly becoming a frog, though the child’s attention remained on the woman.
Why don’t you make scones anymore? Does it make you think of her?
Because they made her gag, the thought of them, the cloggy sweetness clawing at her throat was enough. It had all been an act, tea parties acted out. Scripts learned and mastered so no questions were asked. They’d both known, and both played their parts. If you pretend this, I’ll pretend that. Eva had seen too much, become aware of too much. Even as a child you can’t cling to make believe when it’s forced out of you. Scratching her head and stretching as she stands the young woman looked briefly thoughtful. It wasn’t unusual for one or even both of the bigger kids to ask questions like this. It just usually had a trigger. She hadn’t seen one, not recently. Though maybe that was the issue, something was wrong and she couldn’t see it. Flicking the switch to the kettle she turns her attention to her daughter. She’d been watching her move, only looking back at her cakes when she realises she’s being watched.
It was mum’s thing…... I can’t make them as good as her.
You could make them better?
Broken, bleeding, too weak to move. Yet she finds the strength when she needs it. Not against him…no, never that. The scream pulled her from her daze, the crying child shocked enough to forget that we don’t make noise when he’s home. He wasn’t though, not now, he’d had his fill and stalked off to drown. His knuckles grazed and broken unnoticed in the dusky light of the local, unseen by all but them closest. Details she’d not noticed, not been able to see through her child eyes were vivid in her adult mind. Every insult and injury bestowed under the guise of love flared brighter, a soft voice nurturing and calm even through gritted teeth. The small hand holding tightly, as if she could fix it with all her strength. If she pulled hard enough she could take her into the big house with her. “It’s alright Evie, I’ll make some treats for tea and it’ll all be okay.” She could still taste the tea if she thought about it. Stewed and strong enough to stand a spoon in…your mugs would never be white again with that stuff. She had picked up the teabags, only now found the coffee more desirable. Bitter was something she could cope with. Lucy had been watching intently from over her different coloured icings.
Do you miss her?
I don’t suppose I remember much of her to miss. I was very little when she got ill. Younger than you are. When you get to my age you don’t remember things from that long ago too well.
Nodding as if this answered the unspoken question she’d just been about to ask Lucy turns her attention back to her cakes. She was too much like Eva. In her short life she had seen too much, knew enough to guess at the things she didn’t fully understand and worry about them. Pushing a mug of tea beside her daughter, Eva took a seat. She was closer to Lucy than she’d have ever thought possible. Though she didn’t need that bond to tell her that something was up.
What’s this really all about sweetie?
Silence, awkward rather than their usual comfortable breaks falls between them. The little girl chewing on her lip and she concentrated on drawing on the cake. Eva watching, waiting until she felt comfortable enough to voice her thoughts.
I know you aren’t my real mum…..not like you’re Lucan and Georgia’s mum. And I know that mama isn’t your real mum. And you’re nothing like Mama…..She’s mean and crankly an-
Old, but yes. I’m mean and cranky too. I just hide it better. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to you, sweetheart. I love you just as much as Zippy and George. You were my first baby and nothing can ever change that.
I know, and I love you too…but that lady said-
The silence was shattering as the little girl caught herself. She didn’t want to mention Davina, not after seeing the look in her mother’s face the last time. She had been calling more frequently though. It didn’t seem to matter where they were, which city or state. It wasn’t really as if she said much either. Just, the things she did say…..She had expected her mum to be hurt, angry maybe. Instead she just looked lost. Shaking her head the young woman seemed to hide behind her coffee.
You promised to tell me if she called again.
I know….and I’m sorry Mummy but….she said things.
Blood running cold at the thought of just what this woman could have forced upon her child this time she does a pretty good impression of calm. Swallowing hard and trying to pretend her heart wasn’t threatening to burst through her rib cage Eva very carefully turned the little girl to face her.
Talk to me sweetheart. What did she say?
Her eyes locked onto her mother’s. The same piercing green as her father, only now they defiantly fought tears.
Horrible things mostly…..lies! She said you and dad didn’t love me as much now you had Lucan and Georgia. She said she was my Mum and I should be with her. That she had me so I was hers. That just cause your mum didn’t want you, and you were raised by a witch….I think she said witch. Doesn’t mean you should be allowed to take everyone else’s kid…..
The words came pouring out leaving the raven haired lass to wonder just how many calls this woman had made. The distress in the little girl’s face was heartbreaking, but once she’d started there was no stopping. The endless half truths kept spilling, twisted enough to bend and crack without being entirely unbelievable.
She said you were lying about her…..
Oh but that one was true. She had always lied about Davina. Stretching the truth enough to make her seem like a decent human being and completely whitewashing the worst of her sins. Lucy had no idea of the trouble she had caused when she first arrived in GZW. No inclination as to why she was born or how she was treated when small. No idea at all about attacking Eva and endangering the twins. The amount of explaining that one took without actually having to lie could have earned Eva an Oscar. While jumping at every shadow she had somehow managed to blame herself and make it believable. It was a coffee table in a darkened room………Of course Davina had no way of knowing that Eva had tried to protect Lucy from that. She had never once uttered a bad word about her in front of her children. Mean was the worst, and she’d have happily kept it that way. If Lucy was going to have any feelings at all towards her biological mother, she sure as hell wouldn’t be influencing them with her less than amazing opinion. Lucy had to make her own choices, and as the wicked stepmother, like them or not. Eva would respect them.
She said you hurt her face!
That one is true…..
She at least had the decency to sound a little ashamed of herself. Anger had sunk its tendrils deep and was flowing through her fed and fattened by her anxiety when it came to that woman. Yet she sounded calm. Maybe she could remember more of her mother than she thought. She was ashamed, that it had come to this, that she hadn’t done more. That she was having this conversation with a nine year old? You could hazard a guess at any and all but anger was rapidly taking over. With it came calm. That startling contrast that hit before a storm of rage and pain. Her voice was level when she spoke, yet deliberately comforting.
Though it was a very long time ago……I was fighting for you and your Dad….and she threatened my world. It doesn’t make it right though…
You should have done more. You should have hurt her so much she never came back. I know your mum died, your real mum and that made you sad. It still makes you sad…….but if that happened to me-
Lucy! That’s no way to talk. You don’t mean that and you shouldn’t wish death on folk.
She was crying now, tears falling seemingly unnoticed. Just what the hell had that woman said? Brushing her tears away and taking a deep calming breath the little girl looks up at Eva. All at once she appeared grown beyond her years. At the same time she looked so very small and helpless.
Mummy, I need to go see her…….
