Maybe Stand By Me

Three: 2002

Elvis was, by all accounts, a normal toddler - at least the extensive tests said so. But, despite his young age, it was clear he was rife with anxiety, the origin of which his mother just couldn't place. At barely over a year old, he kept to himself, content to crawl and plant himself in a corner, rolling his toy car along the floor. He would cry at any sharp noise or any negativity. If his parents so much as raised their voices to each other, he would begin to wail. These concerns would only grow greater the older he became, but for now, his parents would joke that he was a lone wolf, and leave him to it.

It wasn't always, but there were times where she couldn't ignore her motherly instincts, screaming at her that something was off. That her son needed her help, but she didn't know how.

Her life had fallen into a peaceful monotony once Elvis was able to crawl - there were no longer fears of his development crowding their minds and their paediatrician visits grew less and less frequent. Her life returned to the usual turnabout of cooking, cleaning and ensuring the children got to school on time. As much as she hated the thoughts of it, she did depend on her eldest quite more than she would have liked. But it was difficult, when it felt as though her husband wasn't even there at times.

"Mom?" Fred appeared at her side, frowning, "Are you alright?"

She cleared her throat, snapping her gaze away from Elvis, "Yes dear. Thank you. Are you all hungry?"

Fred shrugged, eyes downcast and looking much older than his nineteen years, "We could eat. No rush. Can I use the computer? I think Ashley messaged me."

"Sure sweetie." She sighed, patting his shoulder as he beamed and bounded off to his father's study.

She had hated that computer, and had no interest in buying it in the first place, but Alfred had insisted - no demanded - that they do, stating it would help him get work done from home so he could spend less time in the office. He was never able to get the hang of using it, growing frustrated whenever the children tried to teach him, so they had taken it for themselves. She had never touched the thing.

"Are you alright, dear?" Alfred asked without glancing up from the paper he was reading.

"Something is just...off." Rosetta Miller murmured, watching her son stare blankly at his brothers that tried to play with him, "I can't describe it."

"If you can't describe it, then you're probably overreacting." Alfred sighed, licking his thumb and turning a page.

"A mother knows. I've had five children, Alfred. And I have never had this feeling before." She was careful to keep her voice low, eyes trained on her son who was watching her curiously.

"Worrying won't do him no good." Alfred muttered, already mentally evacuating himself from the conversation at hand, "Wait till he's old enough to tell you what's wrong."

Rosetta, no longer feeling able to push the issue, ignored his words, walking across the room and scooping her son into her arms, smile faltering as he didn't squeal or coo, simply watching her with wide eyes.

"You'll tell me someday, won't you baby." She tapped his nose and watched as his eyes widened and honed in on hers, like he was trying to communicate, "Good boy."

His chubby little hand reached up, curling into a fist and tapping gently against her cheek. She smiled, turning her head to place a gentle kiss on it, before carrying him towards the corner of the living room, the shouts of her older children drifting throughout the house. She sat on the small chaise set up in the corner, tucking her knees underneath her and balancing her son on her lap.

"I think it's time to introduce you to your namesake." She cooed, using a finger to tickle under his chin.

He didn't squeal with laughter or clap his hands with delight, but his eyes seemed to smile at her as she placed the needle on the vinyl that had already been there from the night before, turning the dial until the music was a low hum.

"This, my love," She smiled, "Is Elvis."

She watched his expression as Elvis lowly crooned through the tinny vinyl player; she had been meaning to get a more modern one, or even a CD player as her older children begged, but she just loved the rustic feel of it, the homey feeling it brought. It reminded her of her own childhood in the sixties, winding around her mother's feet while vinyls played. Her mother had insisted there was no need for a television in their home, that music would be enough. And it had been.

Rosetta knew her older children slightly resented her resistance against newer technology but she couldn't help but want to keep a piece of her past alive, when she had enjoyed it so much. Alfred seemed to understand but whether that was from him being a good husband or him being over a decade older, she was unsure.

Elvis was silent now, eyes honed on the vinyl playing his name sake. He leaned back, head against her chest and closed his eyes, allowing her to rock him gently back and forth. She smiled, kissing the top of his head while she felt the anxiety leave his tiny body. Whether it was the music, or her closeness, she was unsure, but she welcomed it.

"That's my boy." She whispered, ruffling his hair.

She had her doubts, when she found out she was pregnant with a fifth child. She knew Alfred would be little to no help, and she felt too old to start over again. But once she saw the outline of him in the sonogram, every doubt she had left her mind and she was filled with joy each time she lay a hand on her stomach.

She had always hoped for a girl, as selfish as it sounded, but after four boys she wanted a small girl whose hair she could tie bows into and would twirl in summer dresses. But now, her son in her arms, she knew she wouldn't change him for the world.

An: Sorry it's a bit of a shorter one! It's more to set the scene than anything. New chapters coming asap! Next chapter is 2003: what happened to Kiara's parents!