A series of one-shots centered around the Sloan and Shepherd families in the Don't Want to Need You universe. Not in chronological order, and may take place at any time before, during, or after DWTNY and its sequel. You should probably read DWTNY for background information on the families. Feel free to leave suggestions or prompts for future updates!
….
How much trouble can one kid be? Meredith is about to find out when Annie comes over for a playdate with Riley. Pure fluff and innocent, toddler-fueled hilarity. Based on a prompt by winter machine - "A more lighthearted prompt: Meredith volunteers to watch Angelina to practice having two kids, and she and Riley together are insaaaaaaaane."
Addison lifts Angelina from her carseat and props her on one hip; with her free arm she grabs the diaper bag and slings it over her shoulder. "Be right back," she says to the three-year-old still buckled in and hurries towards the house.
She spots Riley's grinning face in the living room window and waves. It's the carefree, squinty-eyed smile she remembers from the first photo she saw of the girl - the pre-leukemia smile - and it's heartwarming to see after what the child has been through. "Look, Annie, there's Riley!" Addison chirps as she waits for Meredith to open the door. Annie squeals and waves.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually Meredith flings it open, Riley bouncing excitedly on her toes behind her. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Again," she grumbles as she reaches for the pint-sized redhead. "I swear, this kid is using my bladder for a trampoline."
"Yeah, that's par for the course at this stage. Now, you're sure you want to do this?" Addison asks with a skeptical glance at Meredith's belly, quite substantial at thirty-seven weeks.
"Of course! Riley's been begging for someone to come play, and I know Emme's at day camp. And I can use the practice for when I have two."
"You do realize that you'll be giving birth to an actual human baby, right, not a wolverine? It's like comparing apples and, well...wolverines. But best of luck to you."
"Oh come on! How bad can she be?"
Addison snickers. "You know that's the same as saying the OR board is quiet, right? You've cursed yourself. But anyways, I packed a lunch for her-"
"I'm pregnant, not an invalid! I can make lunch."
"I know, I just wanted to make this as easy as possible for you. She's a handful, I'm not kidding. Now, Cece and I have to go to ortho to pick up her new AFOs, then she has PT, and she has her pre-op work-up. And I need to get her some new pajamas and comfortable clothes for when she's in the hospital and rehab...probably should get groceries...by the time we're done it should be time to get Emme from camp, and we'll pick this one up on the way back. Probably four, four-thirty at the latest. But if she's too much for you just call, and I'll have the nanny pick her up."
"Addison! We'll be fine! Right, Annie?"
Annie blows slobbery raspberries and yanks on Addison's necklace when she leans in for a kiss. "Okay, you be good. And Meredith, just call if she's any trouble," Addison reiterates before dashing back to the car.
"I can't believe the way your parents talk about you," Meredith muses as she shuts the door and sets Annie free. Riley immediately grabs Annie's hand and drags her over to the play area in the corner.
It's a nice play area. The floor is covered in brightly-colored interlocking squares of foam with letters and numbers. Along one wall is a long, low bookcase filled with books and larger toys, and an overflowing toy box next to it; there is also a tiny table and chairs, perfect for tea parties or arts and crafts.
Riley tips over a bin of wooden blocks. "Let's make a castle," she suggests, and starts stacking. Annie piles blocks with no rhyme or reason, but Riley doesn't seem to care. She's just happy to have a playmate, and Meredith has to smile at the two little heads, one ginger, the other dark blonde, bent together as they play peacefully.
From a distance, it would be easy to assume the girls are close in age. Riley may have fourteen months on the redhead, but Annie clearly inherited her parents' height and is only a hair shorter. On closer inspection, though, Riley is well on her way to the lean, athletic physique of childhood, while Annie is still soft with baby chub, her movements not as graceful as her older playmate. Not infrequently her pudgy hands topple the wobbly structure they're building, but Riley takes it in stride and patiently rebuilds.
Meredith is still mesmerized by this sweet, budding friendship when Annie loses interest in building. With a laugh she scatters the blocks, then makes a beeline for a large plastic drum. She has the same one at home, inherited from Cecilia, and knows exactly what to do with it. She rips the top off, dumps out the contents - drumsticks, a tambourine, bells, shaker eggs, a rattle - and replaces the lid, which she bangs violently on with the sticks.
Riley eagerly abandons the blacks and joins in. "We're a band, mama!" she squeals as she picks up the tambourine, which she hands to Meredith, then takes the bells in one hand, the rattle in the other. "Play with us!"
Meredith joins their off-beat rhythm. Sure, they're loud, but so what? At least they're staying out of trouble so she forces a smile and plays along, interfering only when Annie loses interest in the drum and tries to swipe Riley's rattle. Luckily Riley is easily persuaded to take a shaker egg in its place.
Fifteen long minutes later Meredith thanks God for the toddler's blissfully short attention span. Sullivan starts barking outside, and Annie drops her instrument to run to the sliding door. "Goggie! Go out! Go out!" she chants as she slaps the glass with both hands; soon Riley is at her side, mimicking this unexpected little ringleader.
"Okay, we'll go outside." Meredith opens the door and the girls tumble out, heading straight for Sullivan. Riley grabs the orange ball and hurls it for the dog; Annie picks up a nylon bone and sticks it in her mouth. "Oh, no, honey, that's yucky. Don't put it in your mouth. Give it to me." Of course the baby pays her no mind so she forcefully removes it, resulting in an ear-piercing shriek and tears threatening to spill down rosy cheeks.
Meredith backs up to the deck railing and drops the bone. "It's all gone! See?" Annie looks perplexed when she holds up her empty hands, then screws her face up and prepares to scream again. "Hey! Annie, you want to paint? Riley, let's show Annie your paints!" Meredith suggests cheerfully, and Riley's enthusiastic yes is enough to distract the toddler so she drags out the large double-sides easel that was a well-meaning but impractical birthday gift from Carolyn. It takes up far too much space indoors - and typically results in a mess - but it's a warm, sunny July morning; she figures she can let the girls paint outside, then hose them down or let them clean off in the kiddie pool.
She strips the girls down to their diapers and gets Annie set up with two pots of paint and a chunky paintbrush on one side, then does the same for Riley on the other side. When Riley's ready she peeks around the easel to find Annie with a slash of red across her lips. "No, no, no, don't eat the paint!" She's too late, though, because by the time the words are out Annie already has the paintbrush, now loaded up with a glob of green, in her mouth. "Not in your mouth! On the paper!" Surprisingly, Annie listens, and while she smears her brush across the page Meredith reads the label on one of the pots. It's non-toxic, right? Carolyn wouldn't give Riley anything that isn't, would she? She sighs with relief when she finds confirmation, but keeps an eye on the troublemaker just in case.
"Mama, look what I did!" Riley demands a little while later, and Meredith rounds the easel, making sure to position herself where she can still see Annie while admiring her daughter's work of art.
"Oh, that's beautiful. Can you tell me about it?" Meredith asks as she studies the colorful blobs.
Riley points to a big, blue oval-ish sort of shape with four lines sticking out of it. "That's daddy," she announces, then points to a similar yellow figure, "an' you. An' I'm the little one! An' that's the sun, an' a cloud, an' Sully…"
While she rambles on about her masterpiece, Annie wanders over and rubs her hands on Meredith's jeans, leaving muddy red-green streaks down one leg. "On the paper, Annie! Paint goes on the paper!" she barks while silently reminding herself that at least the paint is washable.
Clearly Annie isn't interested in working on her painting anymore; instead, she dips her fingers in the blue paint, rubs her hands together, and leaves handprints on Riley's bare chest. In retaliation, Riley - clearly emboldened by her naughty little comrade - loads up her brush and paints Annie's nose yellow.
The girls are cackling with glee, so Meredith steps back and allows the body painting which amuses them for a whole twenty minutes before they come barreling towards her in all their nearly-naked, rainbow-streaked glory. "Oh, no. No! You stay right there, both of you. Let's go swimming!"
She drags out the kiddie pool and fills it with the hose; the water is cold, but the girls aren't fazed by it; they splash happily, the water turning murky as the paint washes off their bodies. They're content playing with some buckets and a watering can, so Meredith drags over a lounge chair and puts her feet up. She shuts her eyes tightly against the almost-noontime sun and listens to the girls; suddenly,they're too quiet, and she opens them just in time to watch Annie dump half a pail of water in her lap. Riley follows suit, and they both run away in opposite directions. "Get back here, you rascals!" She takes off after Annie and the little redhead is almost in her grasp when she hears Riley crying. Turning around, she sees her daughter on the ground, Sully's leash wrapped around one ankle as the dog runs around, excited by the commotion. She orders the dog to sit and rescues Riley, relieved to find just some minor rope burn. Crisis averted, she glances around for Annie who is nowhere in sight. "Oh, shit."
"Oh, shit!" Riley repeats, mimicking her mother's concerned expression. "Oh, shit!"
"Oh, no, honey! Don't say that! That's a naughty word. Let's play a game, okay? Can you help mommy find Annie?"
"Hide an' seek!"
"Yes, hide and seek. Do you see her?"
Riley scans the yard. "Nope! Annie, where are you?"
No response. "Come on, Annie! Time to go inside!" Meredith calls, but still, nothing.
Finally, Sully starts barking. Meredith runs over to the dog house and pushes him out of the way to peek inside to find Annie sitting bare naked - waterlogged diaper discarded God only knows where - with a fistful of dog kibble. "Don't your parents feed you?" she mutters with a shake of her head as she pulls Annie out.
Once the girls are in dry diapers and re-dressed, Meredith buckles Annie into the high chair and gets Riley in her booster seat - no way is she letting the dynamic duo out of her sight while she gets lunch ready. First she retrieves Annie's lunchbox from the diaper bag. Of course it's not a regular lunch box; it's one of those colorful plastic bento-style boxes divided into a half dozen compartments, each filled with something more nutritious than the next - little chunks of what appears to be roasted chicken with a tiny pot of barbecue sauce for dipping, sugar snap peas and cucumber slices, a boiled egg cut in half, some melon balls, a few slices of Colby-jack cheese, and crackers that appear to be whole-grain and probably cost a fair bit more than the box of Ritz Meredith has in the cupboard. Seriously, Addison? Seriously? This is what toddlers are eating for lunch these days? She feels a twinge of guilt over the stack of Lunchables she'd let Riley talk her into buying at the grocery store the day before as Annie digs into her healthy lunch, and Riley squeals in delight over the little prepackaged circles of deli ham and processed cheese, then scrounges up an applesauce pouch so she can pretend it's a well-rounded meal and vows to try harder in the future. Not that Riley cares - she gobbles up the Lunchable, slurps down the applesauce, and washes it down with a sippy cup of milk; at least the lunches have that in common.
By the time lunch is over, Riley is yawning and Annie is already nodding off, her head bouncing as she fights a losing battle against sleep. Meredith washes Annie's face and hands and lays her in the pack 'n play in the living room, then brings Riley upstairs and tucks her in. After a quick peek at Annie, who apparently sleeps as hard as she plays, she heads to the kitchen to tidy up, straightens the play area mess from that morning, and then tackles a pile of laundry. Finally she flops down on the couch and puts her feet up, just in time for her phone to ring. Addison.
"Hello?"
"Hey. Is she driving you up the wall yet?"
"No! She's an angel," Meredith lies a little too earnestly.
"I don't believe that for a second. Seriously, Do you want the nanny to pick her up?"
"No, no, she's fine. Really. She just had lunch and now she's taking a nap. We're good."
"Okay. But call me if you need me."
With Addison off the line Meredith leans back, closes her eyes, and nods off for a blissful hour-long nap that ends when she feels little fingers prying one eyelid open. She's greeted by a toothy little grin and twinkling blue eyes. "Well, hello there," she says, not surprised in the least that the toddler managed to escape from the playpen.
"Hi!" Annie pats Meredith's cheek before plopping down on her lap, her diaper squishing as a noxious smell hits Meredith's nostrils.
"Oh, we better get you cleaned up." Meredith grabs the diaper bag and gets to work; she's practically sweating by the time she's done with the diaper change that feels more like a wrestling match with an octopus. With the offending diaper disposed of she discovers what the toddler did while she was dozing - the bookshelf in the play area is empty, a stack of magazines from the coffee table shredded.
She's cleaning the mess when she hears Riley calling to her from the top of the stairs. "Okay, let's go get Riley," she says as she hoists the toddler to her hip, not daring to leave her unattended for even a minute. She climbs over the baby gate at the top of the stairs and sets Annie down. "Riley, you want to go potty?" she asks, even though the girl's diaper is already wet. She's all but given up on getting her toilet trained before the baby comes, but is still making a half-assed attempt at it.
Riley shakes her head. "No!"
"Yes. Come on. Show Annie what a big girl you are."
"No! I don't like it!" Riley whines.
"You can have M&Ms if you go potty," Meredith bribes, which convinces Riley to try.
Riley sits on the potty while Meredith gets settled cross-legged on the floor with Annie in her lap and a stack of special potty-only books next to her. They're halfway through book number four before Riley releases a trickle of urine, and by the end she manages a small bowel movement; it's not much, but they celebrate the success with a round of applause anyways. Then Meredith helps Riley wash her hands, while Annie swiftly and silently unrolls almost the entire roll of toilet paper before getting caught.
"Annie! No!" In the blink of an eye Annie escapes from the bathroom, and is attempting to scale the baby gate when Meredith catches up to her. "I think your mom was right about you," she grumbles as she lugs Annie downstairs where she discovers, much to her dismay, that it's barely two-thirty. Two more hours. You can do this, she tries to convince herself.
She manages to keep the girls briefly distracted with an episode of Paw Patrol; then a tea party is fun for a whopping ten minutes before Annie swipes the tea set off the table. Snack time follows - it begins and ends with Annie squirting a whole pouch of yogurt across the kitchen. Of course Riley - sweet, well-behaved Riley - thinks this is hilarious and follows suit. After destroying the play area again, the girls eventually settle down with Riley's farm animal hand puppets, and are playing quietly when Addison arrives.
"So, how much trouble was Hurricane Annie, really?"
"No trouble at all," Meredith insists, even though Addison is raising an eyebrow at the mess in the corner.
"I'd offer to help pick that up, but the other two are waiting in the car. Emme's a little bummed that Annie got to come over without her, so maybe Riley can come over tomorrow?" Addison offers, guessing that Meredith could use a relaxing day to herself after dealing with the wake of destruction left by her unruly middle child.
"That would be great. I'm sure she'd love that," Meredith says as she walks mother and daughter to the door. Then she flops down on the couch with Riley on her lap. "I guess we better get that mess cleaned up before daddy gets home, huh," she says after a half-hour snuggle session. "What do you say?"
Riley looks at the mess with raised eyebrows and turns to Meredith "Oh, shit!"