This is where the fluff goes. I don't make the rules.
Midnights & Ice Cream Pints
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Jenna crept across the house, pulling her robe in tighter as she navigated the dark hallway, trying not to tip off her sleeping daughter and fiancé. She rounded the corner into the living room, nearly stubbing her toe on the little mail table next to the kitchen doorway.
Thankfully, the dim nightlight they'd left on above the back counter guided her way to her destination: the refrigerator.
She quietly tiptoed past the island counter and reached into a drawer for a spoon. Her next stop was the freezer.
And a tub of mint chocolate chip.
Greedily, she pulled off the lid and tossed it onto the counter, digging the spoon into it. She didn't have time for a bowl. Or to find the ice cream scoop. (The container was nearly empty anyway.) So, unceremoniously, and much like the child who did exactly what her mother had taught her not to do, she ate straight out of the carton.
It felt bad. Rebellious. And it tasted damn good.
Movement in her belly told her that the baby concurred with her sentiment.
"You won't judge me, will you?" she whispered downward, placing a hand on her now well-defined bump. A pause, then the baby went still again. "Didn't think so."
Jenna continued to eat merrily, less on guard now. However, just as she stuffed a giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, she heard a voice call from the doorway.
"Mom?"
Spoon still in her mouth, she turned around to face her daughter, giving her that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
The ice cream in her mouth melted and she swallowed. "Hi, sweetie," she greeted, trying to hide the ice cream carton from view. "What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," Lulu answered on a yawn. Then as she walked around the island counter toward the fridge, she caught sight of her mother's discretion and, lifting an eyebrow, asked, "Are you eating ice cream straight out of the container?"
Jenna quickly reached for the lid, slapped it back on the carton. "You can't prove it."
"Yes, you are!" Lulu accused with a whisper-yell. "How many times have you yelled at me for that?"
Jenna, sheepish now, slowly removed the lid again. "The baby had a craving."
Then she reached around for the utensil drawer, grabbing another spoon and passing it to Lulu. The girl eyed her suspiciously for a moment before grinning mischievously.
"Sure. Blame my baby sister, and then butter me up to keep quiet," she chided playfully as she took the spoon and dug in.
"Who else is gonna help me finish the rest of this and not tell Jim?" Jenna asked.
Lulu stuffed mint chocolate chip into her mouth and barely got out, "I just got up for water." A moment later, more clearly, "I didn't ask to be an accessory to this crime."
"And yet you're here," Jenna pointed out, pointing at her with a full spoon, "sneaking ice cream with me."
She watched as Lulu chewed on chocolate chips, seemingly pausing for a moment to consider her mother's point.
Finally, the child decided, "Fair enough."
Mother and daughter fell silent as they finished off the ice cream. Lulu had taken over holding the carton while Jenna finished up her last few spoonfuls. The pair leaned back against the counter, Jenna with her hand on her belly, feeling the movement of her unborn daughter while her fully grown daughter stood next to her with ice cream all over her face.
Her beautiful, smiling, ice-cream-covered face.
She reached over to run a hand through Lulu's wavy, red curls. A surge of gratefulness exploded in her chest, and she couldn't help but wonder…what the hell had she done to deserve this child? To deserve the child she was carrying? To deserve the man currently sleeping in her bed who had given the latter to her? That wasn't even to mention the family she'd adopted through her two best friends.
When had her life become so surrounded by love and support that, so many years ago, she could have only imagined?
She wasn't sure if it was the hormones, the late hour, both, or something else. But the small moments like this had a way of overwhelming her. All the pain and fear she knew as a child; as a teenager; as a terrified college graduate who had no idea how to be a mother. It felt so far away.
Now she had ice cream at 2:00 in the morning with her daughter.
(Both of her daughters.)
She watched as Lulu finished the last of the mint chocolate chip and handed her mother her spoon.
"Done!" the girl announced, a little too proudly.
Jenna took the spoon and stepped a few feet to toss it, along with her own spoon, into the sink. The ice cream tub was next, sent straight to the trash.
"Come on," she said softly, placing her arm around Lulu's shoulders, "clean up your face, and let's get back to bed."