Love Bites

Part Four

"Taking more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
'Cause the walls start shaking
The earth was quaking
My mind was aching
And we were making it and you

Shook me all night long
Yeah you shook me all night long"

"You Shook Me All Night Long," by AC/DC

"What the actual fuck!" Louise bellows, pointing at the vase of red roses sitting on her desk. For a split second, she's not sure which is worse, the violation of her sanctuary, or the fact that she knows exactly who they're from without even looking at the note. She grabs the vase, determined to throw the lot of it—the flowers, the note, and Rudy's stupid, dumb feelings—out the window, without even bothering to open the sash.

She hears her mother call out something, and the door opens.

"Mom, no!" Louise holds the vase over her head, ready to smash it through the glass. The last thing she can handle right now is Linda Belcher's extra-extraness.

Linda closes the door behind her, and sits down on Louise's bed. Her voice is unusually soft, sympathetic and kind. "Sit down, honey."

Louise slowly places the vase on her desk, her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. She expected teasing, loud enthusiasm that was both aurally and emotionally tone-deaf. It's what her mother does best. But this Linda—this almost-normal Mom—is someone she scarcely ever sees, and almost enjoys confiding in, on the rare times Louise needs to confide to a parent.

Louise sits next to her mother. "This is so lame and stupid."

"The florist delivered them just after you and your brother left to take out the trash."

Louise grinds her teeth. After she knocks the idiocy out of Rudy, she's going after the florist for delivering the roses that make her room stink of old lady and guilt.

"They're from Rudy, aren't they?"

Louise groans and flings herself onto her back. She covers her eyes with her forearm. "Why won't he get the hint?"

Her mother pauses, and Louise can sense her choosing her words carefully. This kind of heart-to-heart is the sort of thing Linda craves, but can rarely achieve with her youngest child. "Maybe for the same reason you didn't see this coming, sweetie."

Louise is upright now, determined to throw the flowers and her mother both out of the window. Anger mixes with panic that her mother knows more than she's saying, and Louise's voice takes on a screech. "So this is my fault?!?"

"Sometimes we don't see what we don't want to see."

It's a truth so simple that Louise can't argue it. Louise is relieved; if her mother knew the entire story, they'd no doubt rehash the horrible sex-ed talk from years ago. Louise is still convinced her mother's clitoris song gave her PTSD. "I want to like-like him back, but I don't, and I can't." Louise looks up at her mother, all big eyes and innocence. "I've really tried, Mom."

Linda's heart breaks a little, remembering her own misadventure with Hugo. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Really?"

Her mother reaches over and combs her fingers through Louise's hair, a gesture that never fails to soothe her. "Yes, really, baby. As friends, you're wonderfully matched, but more than that, no. You would eat him alive, and you'd resent him for letting you do it."