Beyond the Family Ties

Part 6

Spring passed in a blur of warm days, giving way to even hotter days as summer was ushered in with a sweltering heat. On Freen's days off, they walked down the block to the park they'd noticed when looking at the apartment, and they'd sit on the patch of grass with ice cream melting in the heat and point to the ducks, while Laurel laid on her back and giggled as she squirmed and rolled over. With the weeks slipping by, Becky found herself becoming more comfortable, finding it easier to laugh with Freen and her friends, and losing some of her quiet, reserved nature. Things started looking even more long-term as seven months turned into eight, and Becky found herself quite content with her life.

It wasn't the busy whirlwind of parties, dinners and shopping sprees that she'd grown up with, but it suited her much better. Without her family's looming presence, there was a freedom that money and notoriety had never been able to give to her. Still, they were still there on occasion, sticking their nose in her business, much to Becky's frustration, and the next one came on a mid-May day, just a little after breakfast, which had become a chaotic affair with the three of them crammed into one apartment.

"Shit. Sugar!" Freen swore, tearing through the apartment, half-dressed in her navy cargo pants and her bra.

"Sugar?"

"I don't want to swear in front of Ducky, but I'm late. Like really late. And I can't find my shirt."

Buttering a piece of toast, Becky gave the blonde and amused look, carrying the toast over to her and shoving it into her mouth, before wiping her hands on her pyjama pants and going over to the table. The navy shirt had been draped over the back of the chair, to stop it from being wrinkled, and Becky held it out to Freen, who let out a muffled sound of triumph around a mouthful of toast.

"I was ironing it for you," Becky informed her, moving towards the infant squirming in the highchair, picking up the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal and trying to convince Laurel to eat some more. She shook her head from side to side, a puckered look of dissatisfaction on her face as she avoided the spoon, and Becky sighed as she set the bowl down again, moving back into the kitchen.

Freen babbled more to herself than to Becky, keeping up a stream of frantic conversation as she laced up her heavy work boots, smoothed her blonde locks back into a neat bun, and grabbed her phone and keys off the counter. Dropping a passing kiss onto Laurel's dark head, while the baby frantically kicked, her legs drumming against the plastic of the high chair, Freen rushed past the island counter.

"Ah, wait, wait!" Becky called after her, grabbing the coffee pot and dumping a stream of dark liquid into a thermos, quickly screwing on the lid and catching Freen at the door, handing over the cup and giving her a smile.

"Oh, you're an earth angel," Freen gratefully said, hauling her large first aid kit onto her shoulder and giving Becky a sunny smile.

"Go and save some lives," Becky said, returning the smile as she watched her roommate disappear through the door.

Turning back around, Becky sighed, taking in the state of the apartment and resigning herself to the task of some housework. At nineteen, she felt like she did little else, her life seeming to revolve around housework and motherhood these days, and no matter how often she did do the housework, there always seemed to be more to do.

First things first, she picked Laurel up out of the highchair and ran a shallow bath, setting the baby in the warm water and placing one of the squeaky rubber ducks Freen had bought for her in the bath to bob in the water. Squealing with laughter as she splashed around, Becky sat on the tiled floor and laughed as she watched her daughter, allowing herself a few minutes to just enjoy the lighthearted feeling. Sometimes she felt like she stressed about things too much, rather than just appreciating the little moments, and as she watched her daughter, cooing over her and gently washed her tanned skin, Becky knew that she wouldn't change a thing, no matter how tiring it was sometimes.