It started with a seed of doubt, planted unintentionally by one Miss Marisol Lewis.
Fiona and Marisol had actually been getting along ever since Fiona had returned from New York. They ended up spending a lot of time together because of student council, and a friendship of sorts had arisen as a consequence.
It wasn't the sort of relationship where Fiona would invite Marisol over for movies and popcorn, but she could grudgingly admit that spending time in Marisol's presence was no longer the chore it used to be. If you looked past the bitchy exterior, she wasn't an inherently bad person. And after Marisol expressed regret for how she had treated Imogen, she and Fiona had gotten along fine. Besides, Marisol could give some good advice when she felt like it.
The two of them were in the student council office one Friday after school. They were working on a proposal for a charity fundraiser while WhisperHug was practicing. It had actually worked out rather nicely that their respective significant others were in the band together.
They were supposed to present their proposal to Mr. Simpson on Monday, so everything had to be done before they left for the weekend. They were nearly done.
"So," Fiona began as she scrolled through the food bank website, trying to find photos to strengthen their PowerPoint presentation. "Any exciting plans this weekend?"
"You know, the usual," Marisol replied as she fixed some formatting on one of their slides. "Mo and I are going to a movie tonight. I'll probably get together with Katie to work on our history assignment tomorrow. Family time on Sunday. You?"
"I'm going to a family dinner at Imogen's on Saturday."
"That'll be fun," came Marisol's automatic sarcastic response before she seemed to remember what Fiona had told her about everything Imogen's father was going through. Her tone softened when she asked, "How's her dad doing, anyway?"
"He's doing okay, everything considered," Fiona paused for a moment before she continued. "But I'm actually going to her mom's house for dinner."
"Pigtails' mom is still in the picture?" Marisol asked in surprise, tearing her attention away from the screen to look at Fiona. Apparently this information was much more interesting than making sure their text was centered. "Wow. I thought it was just her and her dad. Have you met her mom?"
Fiona nodded. "Kind of. She seems nice enough. Imogen's not the biggest fan of her mom, though, so I'm hoping this dinner isn't super awkward."
"Huh," pondered Marisol, turning her attention back to the screen. "That might explain some things, I guess."
"Explain what?" Fiona asked, a little confused and a lot protective. Sure, Imogen's mother-daughter relationship was probably more complex than most, but she wasn't sure what exactly Marisol was getting at.
"Nothing!" Marisol said defensively. "Just, you know, mommy issues."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Fiona had an edge to her voice, ready to defend her girlfriend against whatever Marisol threw at her.
"I just…" Marisol trailed off as she turned back to look at Fiona. "You know, nevermind."
"Now you have to tell me," Fiona rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Come on, Marisol."
"No, Fiona, I wasn't thinking and it was stupid. Have you found a picture for the title slide, yet?" Marisol tried to change the subject.
"Marisol," Fiona's voice was slightly threatening as she ignored the president's question. "Just tell me what you meant."
Marisol took a deep breath and seemed to weigh her options before answering. "Look, Fiona, I've seen the way Imogen looks at you. You two are ridiculously cute together and it wouldn't surprise me if you get married and have ten disgustingly adorable babies together. So can we just drop it?"
Now Fiona was more confused and frustrated than ever. Seriously, this was like pulling teeth. "Ugh, just tell me!"
Marisol looked at her for a long minute before caving in. "I'm not saying this is true – and for the record, you made me tell you – but did it ever cross your mind that maybe she was looking for a close relationship with a girl because she doesn't have one with her mother?"
Fiona laughed. "That's insane."
"I told you," Marisol smiled slightly in relief and rolled her eyes, looking back at the screen. "Now, do you have a picture or not?"
"Found the perfect one," Fiona replied with a smile as she sent it to Marisol's email so it could be inserted into their presentation. "Does that mean we're done?"
"Totally done!" Marisol grinned as she pasted in the photo. "We have that meeting with Simpson before class on Monday, so everything should be a go by this time next week. You know, you and I make a surprisingly good team."
"We do," Fiona agreed as she shut down her computer and started to pack up her stuff. She glanced at the clock. "Do you think they're done practice, yet?"
Marisol checked her watch. "Maybe. Let's go see. And if they're not, we can make faces at them through the window."
Fiona laughed as she pictured how Imogen would react. "Deal."
As they packed up their things, Fiona's thoughts wandered to what Marisol had said about Imogen's relationship with her mother. Before Fiona had met Natalie on the porch that night, Imogen had only mentioned her mother approximately five times. And that was counting generously.
The first time Imogen talked about her mother was at a sleepover long before she and Fiona had started dating. Fiona had asked Imogen about her parents, and Imogen told her about her parents' divorce when she was only eight and about how her mother was too busy working to even ask for partial custody, so that was why she lived full-time with her dad. She hadn't looked like she wanted to share much more, so Fiona hadn't pushed it.
The second time Imogen mentioned her mother was a casual comment made while they were discussing Fiona's close relationship with Declan. Imogen mentioned that she had always wanted a sibling, but then corrected herself, saying that she supposed she now actually had two from her mother's remarriage but that it wasn't the same. Fiona had managed to learn that she had a half-brother and sister and that they were very young, but that was it.
When Imogen had grabbed Fiona out of the hall and pulled her into the school washroom to help her put in her contact lenses, it was only the third time Imogen had spoken about her mother. Number four came after she had secured the money for the set, and number five was the off-hand comment when Imogen invited her over for quesadillas at the Moreno household instead of keeping her dinner plans with her mom.
So Fiona hadn't had much to go on when she actually found herself face to face with Natalie Granger. In fact, Fiona only found out her new last name afterward. It hadn't been exactly how Fiona pictured being introduced to Imogen's mom, but she knew that her girlfriend was under a lot of pressure, and at the time, Fiona's only concern had been supporting Imogen. Now, though, she hoped that at the very least she hadn't made a bad impression.
But even though Fiona didn't know much about Imogen's mother, it hadn't taken a lot of background information to see that Imogen's relationship with her mother was… strained at best. Fiona had felt Imogen tense up the second she saw her mother emerge from the taxi that night. Fiona had never seen Imogen that way – ever. The closest thing she could think of was the way Imogen had acted the night Eli broke into her condo, but even then, Imogen had been more active with her anger and less… hostile. It frightened Fiona a little bit how biting Imogen's tone had been when she spoke to her mother.
From Fiona's outsider viewpoint, Natalie seemed nice enough – concerned for her daughter even though she and Imogen clearly had a rocky past. Fiona had felt beyond awkward while she watched the exchange between them the night Volta died, but when Imogen asked her to, Fiona had stayed.
Fiona hadn't seen Natalie since that night almost two months ago, although Imogen was now living at her mom's house every second week. The weeks she stayed at the Granger household, Imogen always came to Fiona's loft when they spent time together. Fiona wasn't even one hundred percent sure where Imogen's mother's house was, exactly.
Although Imogen and her mom seemed to be getting along better, it was obviously difficult for Imogen. She now had a strict curfew of 10pm on weekdays and of midnight on weekends. To top it off, sleepovers with Fiona were absolutely not allowed, which infuriated Imogen, who pointed out that she was allowed to sleep at Fiona's when she was staying with her father.
Whereas Louis's parenting style was more open and inclusive, Natalie's was more routine and structure-oriented, which was not at all what Imogen was accustomed to. The weeks Imogen lived with her father, Fiona would come over and the four of them would cook or play games. Professor Moreno now had two alternating full time caregivers – Liam and Jean-Luc – who were wonderful with both Imogen and Louis, something for which Fiona was extremely grateful. Imogen's father's dementia was progressing at an alarming rate, and Fiona usually had to re-introduce herself every time she returned after a week where Imogen had been at Natalie's. But overall, Imogen seemed happier. Fiona knew that having Liam and Jean-Luc around had taken a huge weight off of Imogen's shoulders.
Even so, the weeks when she was supposed to be at her mom's, Imogen usually ended up at Fiona's place at least half the days, and at least 90% of the time, Imogen had some complaint about her mother. Their relationship was better than it had been, but it was definitely a tough adjustment, and some days were better than others.
For her part, Natalie wasn't used to having a teenager around, let alone one with as big a personality as Imogen. And while her parenting techniques seemed to work well for two-year-old Tregan and four-year-old Connor, they did not work well with Imogen. The expectation that Imogen suddenly start to act differently just because she was not at her father's house just served to make Imogen more resentful of Natalie.
And as far as Fiona could tell, Imogen's step-father just tried to stay out of it as best he could.
So it had caught Fiona off-guard when Imogen casually mentioned to Fiona, as they sat across from each other at the loft doing their homework, that she was invited to dinner on Saturday. In fact, Fiona had been so surprised that she choked on her drink and it had taken a good minute for her to regain her composure.
"Sorry, what?" Fiona squeaked out once she had finished coughing.
Imogen, who had hurried around the table to make sure Fiona was okay, gave a little smile as she sat down in Fiona's lap and placed her hands on Fiona's shoulders. "Natalie and Neil want you to come to dinner on Saturday."
"Dinner?" Fiona asked in disbelief.
Imogen laughed. "Yeah, you know that thing where you sit down and eat food in the evening? We just had it, like, an hour ago."
Fiona rolled her eyes. "I know what dinner is, smartass. I'm just surprised. I've only met your mom once for like… a minute."
"Apparently that is exactly why you're invited to dinner," Imogen sighed as she toyed with one of Fiona's curls. "Natalie wants to know who exactly I'm spending – and I quote – 'all my time' with. I promised you weren't a gang member or a drug dealer, but we both know she doesn't trust me, so she wants to see for herself."
"And you're okay with me coming to dinner?" Fiona asked, leaning back so she could see Imogen's face when she answered.
"I love you. Everything is better when you're there," Imogen shrugged before leaning down to kiss Fiona. "Even dinner at Natalie and Neil's house."
"Okay," Fiona smiled as she kissed her girlfriend back. "What time on Saturday?"
"I'll come get you around 5:30?" Imogen offered.
Fiona nodded before it really hit her. "Oh god. What should I wear? What if she doesn't like me? What if she stops letting you hang out with me?"
"Calm down, Fiones!" Imogen laughed. "One – wear whatever you want because you always look smokin'. Two – she will like you because you are the most amazing person I know and I don't think it's possible to not like you. And three – in the extremely unlikely event that she is even more crazy than I thought and doesn't like you, it doesn't matter because I don't need Natalie's approval. She can't tell me who to date. I mean, who does she think she is? My mother?"
"Comforting, Immy," Fiona's tone was sarcastic, but she was only half-kidding. She really wanted to make a good impression.
Xxx
"Fiones?"
Fiona glanced at the clock when she heard Imogen enter the apartment and call her name. Crap. She had promised herself she would be ready by now. She really didn't want to be late. She knew Natalie hated when people were late. She knew this because, more than once, Imogen had gotten in trouble for breaking curfew by only a few minutes – ten, twenty, thirty at most!
"In here!" Fiona called from her walk-in closet as she changed her mind for the fortieth time about what to wear.
"C'mon, we gotta go or Natalie will go beserk!" Imogen replied. "I had to drop off Connor and Treegs at Neil's sister's and they were being brats and would not get out of the car…"
When Imogen popped her head in, Fiona immediately held up her top two potential outfits, silently asking which one she should wear.
"Fiones, you would look great in either of those," Imogen whined, completely disinterested. "We really have to go."
Fiona decided to go with the blue dress. As she pulled it on, she tried to explain, "Immy, I just want to look—"
"You look beautiful, Fiones," Imogen interrupted, coming up to her girlfriend and pressing a kiss to her lips. "I promise you look stunning. And trust me, if we didn't have to be at dinner in twenty minutes, I would be all over you."
"Oh yeah?" Fiona smiled smugly as she tugged on the suspenders that held up Imogen's skirt, pulling her girlfriend closer. She ran her hands up Imogen's arms to her shoulders and then wrapped her arms around her neck.
Imogen took a deep breath and swallowed hard, and Fiona could feel her girlfriend's breathing start to speed up. Imogen nodded and placed her hands firmly on Fiona's hips, bringing her closer. "Definitely."
"Well I will keep that in mind for next time," whispered Fiona, bringing her lips teasingly close to her girlfriend's. When Imogen moved to close the small space between them, Fiona pulled back with a grin as she mimicked Imogen. "We gotta go or Natalie will go beserk!"
"Ugh, you're such a tease!" Imogen exclaimed in frustration before she glared at Fiona, who was calmly putting on a blue blazer.
"We don't want to be late, Immy," Fiona said innocently, barely able to hide her smirk.
"I hate you," mumbled Imogen as she followed Fiona out of the loft.
"That would be a lot more convincing if you weren't staring at my ass right now," Fiona quipped, hoping that she was right.
The deep red of Imogen's cheeks when Fiona turned around to lock the door behind them told her that she wasn't wrong.
"Now I really hate you," Imogen pouted.
"I love you, too," Fiona smiled, grabbing Imogen's hand as they walked out to the car. "C'mon. Let's get this over with, and then maybe later we can revisit that whole 'you all over me' thing."
When they finally pulled up to Natalie and Neil's, they were only 7 minutes late, which Fiona hoped was okay. On the ride over, she had become increasingly more nervous. The butterflies in her stomach were going crazy.
As Imogen parked the car in the driveway, Fiona studied the house in which Imogen now spent half her nights. It was an old Victorian in a rich neighbourhood close to the hospital where Natalie worked. The street was leafy and residential; kids were playing on the sidewalk and people were walking their dogs. The house's intricate trim was painted green and the house looked very well-kept. The lights shining from inside and the comfortable-looking furniture on the porch made the house seem very warm and inviting.
"Ready?" Fiona asked, turning to her girlfriend, who was looking a little bit dazed. "You know, if you're having second thoughts, you could always tell them I got sick, and I could go home."
"No, no. I'm ready," Imogen smiled at Fiona. "I just hope you are."
The nervous knots in Fiona's stomach tightened, but she put on a brave face for Imogen and opened the car door. "Let's go, then."
As they walked up the steps to the front door, Fiona took in the atmosphere of the house. It was quite different from the Morenos'. A few children's toys were scattered on the front porch and Fiona was kind of disappointed she wouldn't be meeting Imogen's half-siblings that night. While she wasn't generally that fond of kids, she had learned that they made a good distraction when nobody was sure what to say.
Imogen reached for her hand and then opened the door, pulling Fiona into a hallway with high ceilings and wooden furniture. The smell of roast filled the house. Where stacks of papers, plants, and interesting trinkets filled up spaces in Imogen's dad's home, the Granger household was cleaner and more organized. But not sterile, Fiona thought, somewhat surprised.
"Imogen?" A woman's voice called from the back of the house. "Is that you? Did you get Fiona?"
Imogen didn't reply, just rolled her eyes and turned to give Fiona a quick kiss before she led them through the hall and into the kitchen.
Natalie turned when she heard them enter, and when she saw Fiona, she smiled warmly. "So nice to see you again, Fiona."
"And you, Dr. Granger," Fiona smiled anxiously, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt.
"Please call me Natalie," Imogen's mother insisted. "I love your dress. It looks like the new Philip Sparks spring collection."
"Thank you!" Fiona grinned in satisfaction, looking down at her outfit. She knew it had been important to choose the right thing. So far, so good. "That's exactly the look I was going for!"
"You know, he did a fundraiser for the hospital a few weeks ago. If I had known you were interested, I would have asked Imogen if the two of you wanted to come with me! It was a bit lonely being the only person at my table actually interested in fashion," Natalie confided.
Fiona couldn't control her jaw dropping open, but she quickly closed it. Ever since the whole financial thing with her mother, she hadn't been able to go to any fashion events or buy any brand labels and she missed it. Sure, she tried her best to piece together similar styles from stores she could afford, but it wasn't the same. "Wow, that would have been amazing!"
"Next time, then," Natalie promised as she pushed her hair behind her ear, revealing interesting heart-shaped earrings.
"Your earrings are great – the stained glass is really cool," Fiona complimented. "They remind me of the centrepiece Immy designed for Romeo and Jules."
"Thank you, Fiona," Natalie reached up to touch the earrings. "They were actually a Mother's Day present from Imogen when we lived in Portugal. Do you remember, Imo?"
"No," Imogen said, sounding annoyed. "I was, like, two."
"I guess you were pretty young when we were there," Natalie conceded before turning back to Fiona. "She was at that stage where she was so curious about everything. We had these stained glass windows and when the sun would shine through them, it would make coloured patterns on the floor. Imogen used to love just sitting in the colours. She was so confused about where they came from."
"Awww!" Fiona turned to her girlfriend and grinned. "Little Immy! You must have been so cute trying to figure out where the patterns were coming from!"
Imogen rolled her eyes but couldn't help but return Fiona's smile. "I was two. How was I supposed to know?"
"Speaking of two year olds," her mother segued. "Did Tregan and Connor give you any problems at Carla's?"
"Not more than usual," Imogen replied, stealing a bean out of a pot and splitting it down the middle before putting one piece in each side of her mouth like fangs. She made a face at Fiona before eating them, and Fiona couldn't hold back her laughter.
"Imogen, no playing with your food," Natalie scolded and Fiona had a momentary flashback to a strangely similar and yet very different evening in the Moreno household. "Besides, you'll spoil your dinner."
"With one bean?" Imogen asked incredulously, stealing another one from the pot just to spite Natalie.
Before her mother could reply, Neil walked in the kitchen. He was taller than Fiona had imagined and had less hair, but otherwise, he was more or less how Imogen had described him.
"Hello! You must be Fiona. I'm Neil, Natalie's husband," he greeted her with a smile and an outstretched hand.
"Nice to meet you, sir," Fiona said, reaching out to shake his hand. "You have a lovely home."
"Oh that's all my wife's doing," he insisted, humbly. "I don't know how she had time to decorate, work at the hospital and have two kids – "
"Three kids," Imogen interjected under her breath. Fiona was sure she was the only one who had heard her, and her heart ached for Imogen. She wondered whether that sort of mistake was common.
"— but she is some sort of superstar, that's for sure," Neil finished.
"Well she has done a great job," Fiona complimented, hoping Imogen would realize she wasn't necessarily agreeing but just trying to keep the conversation moving. Socializing with adults had been part of her upbringing, but doing so while trying not to upset her girlfriend was a new experience. She decided to steer the conversation away from Natalie. "So what do you do, Neil?"
"I used to work in real estate development, but ever since Tregan was born, I've been a stay-at-home dad. It just made more sense what with Natalie's schedule being so unpredictable. So now my life revolves around laundry, cleaning, cooking, and the two monsters we call our children," he explained as he opened the oven to check the roast. "Looks like it's almost done. Why don't you ladies take a seat in the living room while I finish up here? I know Natalie is thrilled to finally have you over here, Fiona."
Imogen rolled her eyes, but when Natalie just laughed in agreement before leading them into the living room, Fiona felt the knots in her stomach return.
Nervously, Fiona sat down next to Imogen on the couch, careful to maintain a respectable distance from her girlfriend. Imogen scooted over closer to Fiona as Natalie sat down in the armchair across from them.
Everything was going smoothly so far, and yet Fiona felt like she was going to have a panic attack. She took deep breaths as she tried to concentrate on what Natalie was saying and reminded herself that this wasn't a military interrogation. It was just dinner with her girlfriend's mother, and so far Natalie seemed to like her. As long as she could keep herself from saying something completely stupid, it would be fine.
"So, Imogen tells me you're on student council, Fiona. How is that going?" Natalie asked.
"It's going well, actually," Fiona replied, relieved the question wasn't too difficult. "I just joined as vice-president in January because the president… had to step down. So far this term we've successfully coordinated a dance, a campaign on texting and driving, and Valentine candy-grams. There's another dance in the works, and on Monday we're pitching a proposal for a fundraising campaign for the food bank."
"Seems like you're very busy," Natalie observed, sounding impressed. "You know, I was student council president in high school. My vice-president was this boy named Lenny Mills and he was completely useless but very popular. I had to recruit every single one of my friends for favours to get us through the year."
"Well, Fiona's awesome; she can handle it," Imogen bragged as she beamed at Fiona.
"I have no doubt," Natalie assured, smiling at her daughter. "Maybe you could join one of the dance committees, Imogen. I'm sure you could put together some amazing decorations."
"I've been trying and trying to convince her, but she refuses!" Fiona exclaimed before catching sight of Imogen's displeased face. "But, I mean, just because Imogen's not on student council doesn't mean she's not busy with her own things. Between her band practice and the drama club and her photography and working on her portfolio, I'm lucky I ever even get to see her."
"Me too," Natalie agreed. "Whenever she's not busy with school, it seems she's at your house. I've told her that you two are more than welcome to hang out here, but she never seems to think it's a good idea."
"Yeah, well there aren't two rugrats running around at Fiona's all the time, so it's easier to concentrate," explained Imogen. She only paused for a half a second before adding, "On homework."
"Right." Natalie gave her daughter a slightly incredulous look. "But, seriously, Fiona, I can't tell you how happy I am to finally have you over for dinner. Maybe Imogen will see that this place is not so bad and that the two of you are always welcome here."
Before Fiona could reply, Neil popped his head in to let them know that dinner was ready. That was perfect timing. There was no way that conversation was going in a good direction. Fiona could already feel Imogen getting agitated next to her. She grabbed her girlfriend's hand as they walked to the dining room and gave it a quick squeeze.
"So, Fiona," Natalie asked politely as they sat down at the table. "What are your plans for next year?"
"Well," Fiona began, wondering the best way to phrase that she wasn't sure exactly. "I applied to a few schools – York for business, Toronto for finance and economics, and Ryerson for communications. I also have an interesting potential exchange opportunity in Quebec to improve my French. I like to think I'm keeping my options open."
"That sounds like a very reasonable plan," Natalie replied, looking impressed as she scooped some potatoes onto her plate. "Maybe you can rub some of that kind of thinking off on Imogen."
"I have a plan!" Imogen insisted, irritated. "Just because it's not a science degree doesn't mean it's not reasonable!"
"I didn't say that," Natalie replied calmly. "I don't care if you major in science or fine arts or tight rope walking. I just think maybe you want a back-up plan in case OCAD doesn't work out. You know there are some very good architecture programs –"
"I don't want to do architecture," Imogen interrupted with a bitter tone to her voice. "Besides, I want to stay in Toronto."
"There are some excellent programs at the University of Toronto or York," Natalie countered.
Imogen shook her head in frustration. "I don't know why you can't just understand what I want. I can make my own decisions, you know!"
"We will discuss this more later, Imogen," Natalie said with finality, effectively ending the conversation.
For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was forks and knives scraping across plates. Fiona could feel Imogen fuming beside her. The tension was palpable.
"So do you follow any sports, Fiona?" Neil asked, trying to break the awkward silence that had come over them.
Imogen snorted, eyes still focused on her plate.
"Not really," Fiona replied with a strained smile at Neil. "When we lived in London, my brother played polo, but I think that was the last time a Coyne pursued athletics in any form. Do you?"
"Life-long Leafs fan," Neil said proudly. "I bleed the blue and white."
"That's hockey, right?" Fiona asked, trying to play off her genuine uncertainty as a joke. In her few years in Toronto, she had quickly learned that Canadians could be touchy when it came to their hockey.
When Neil and Natalie both laughed in response, she assumed the Maple Leafs were, in fact, a hockey team, and she felt relieved that she hadn't just inadvertently offended Imogen's step-dad.
"I could take you and Imogen to a game sometime," Neil offered. "I would love the company."
"Ugh, no," came Imogen's unenthusiastic dismissal before Fiona could formulate a response. "The Leafs suck."
"I didn't know you followed hockey," Natalie commented, sounding as surprised as Fiona felt at Imogen's remark.
"I don't," Imogen said defiantly as she stared at her mother. "I guess you don't remember that Dad's a huge Habs fan. Hating the Maple Leafs was practically bred into me."
"I'd forgotten your father was a Montreal supporter," Natalie said quietly with a small chuckle as she looked down at her plate before taking another bite, chewing it slowly, and swallowing.
Fiona watched as her girlfriend watched her mother intently.
"Maybe Neil could take you girls to a game between Toronto and Montreal," Natalie suggested, bringing her eyes up to meet Imogen's and holding her gaze until Imogen looked away. "A little friendly rivalry is always fun."
Neil glanced nervously between his wife and his step-daughter.
"We could definitely do that," he agreed. "That is, if you girls are interested."
"Sure, whatever," Imogen rolled her eyes.
Fiona smiled tensely at Neil. "That sounds really interesting. Thank you, Mr. Granger. I guess an NHL game is something I should do if I want to pass convincingly as a Canadian."
Both Natalie and Neil looked confused at her comment and gave her questioning looks.
"Pass as a Canadian?" Natalie asked, glancing over at Imogen, who had a small smirk on her face.
"Oh," Fiona said, feeling flustered that Imogen hadn't mentioned it. "Um, I'm American. Well, I was born in Japan and we've moved around a lot, but my passport says I'm officially a citizen of the United States."
"Well, we will definitely have to get you rooting for one of our Canadian hockey teams, then!" Neil joked.
"I am a blank slate when it comes to hockey!" Fiona confessed with an awkward laugh. "Well, actually, not quite. I went to a hockey game in New York once, but it was in this boy's father's private box, and I honestly don't remember much about the actual game… But I sort of vaguely feel like I should have some allegiance to the New York team."
"Islanders or Rangers?" asked Neil, obviously pleased to be talking about hockey, even at a very basic level.
"Huh?" Fiona had no idea what was going on. She was just barely keeping up with this conversation. She wished Imogen would join in, but a quick glance across the table at her girlfriend told her that that was unlikely. Imogen looked totally checked out.
"Are you from New York, Fiona?" Natalie asked, effectively saving her from any more sports chat. Fiona was beyond grateful. New York she could talk about for hours – hockey, not so much.
"Yes, New York was always home base. Sometimes I miss it, but then I remember all the amazing things about Toronto…" Fiona trailed off, catching Imogen's eye and biting her lip to tame a smile.
Fiona felt her heart flip when Imogen smiled back, but quickly averted her eyes.
"What do your parents do that moved you all around the world?" came Natalie's next question.
"Well," began Fiona. "My father is a diplomat, so we pretty much went wherever he was stationed. Until recently."
"Oh?" Natalie looked up at her, curious.
"Dad was only stationed at the consulate here for a few months before he was transferred to Santiago. But my mom had gotten a job as an editor for one of the fashion magazines here and they decided it would be too disruptive to move me and my brother in the middle of a school year, so we didn't go to Chile."
"That must have been difficult. To be so far away from your father, I mean," Natalie said sympathetically.
Imogen rolled her eyes and mumbled something about physical distance not being the only kind that mattered.
Fiona carried on uncomfortably, hoping that Imogen's comment would go unnoticed. "It was tough, but it's better now that he's back to being based out of New York for a while."
"Still," insisted Natalie. "It must be difficult for your mother – being here while your father is in New York."
At the same time that Fiona opened her mouth to clarify that her mother was now back in New York, Imogen's head shot up in panic. Imogen was now staring at her with urgency and intent. Fiona gave her what she hoped was a discreet questioning look and Imogen shook her head almost imperceptibly.
Apparently Imogen hadn't told Natalie that Fiona was living on her own.
Great.
"Yeah…" Fiona agreed, nodding her head to try to strengthen the lie. "It is. It's hard for my mom. Especially with Declan away at college. He's at Yale."
"Declan is your brother?" guessed Natalie as she poured more water for herself and for Imogen.
"My twin brother," Fiona confirmed. "Fraternal, obviously…"
"Your twin? But I thought you said he was in college?" Natalie asked, confused.
"Oh, uh…" Fiona floundered. She hadn't anticipated having to explain that she was taking a victory lap. Not that she was ashamed of it, but she didn't really want to have to explain why. She wanted to make a good impression, after all, and admitting that she was a teenage alcoholic wasn't likely to achieve that. And yet, she wanted Imogen's mother to trust her, so maybe it would be better to just come clean about her addiction rather than lie about it – especially since she already lied about her mother living in Toronto.
"Fiones had some health problems last year, so I was given the pleasure of her continued presence at Degrassi," Imogen interrupted gently before Fiona had a chance to make up her mind. Imogen gave Fiona a reassuring look before turning to her mother. "Geez. You don't have to be so insensitive!"
"I'm sorry, Fiona," Natalie apologized sincerely, ignoring her daughter's outburst. "I was just trying to understand. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I'm very glad you are well now, and of course, I'm glad that you and Imogen became so close. I was worried about her having good friends last year."
"Fiona and I are more than friends, Natalie!" Imogen asserted angrily.
"I know that, Imogen. I didn't say you weren't," Natalie asserted calmly, but Fiona could hear the hurt in her voice. "Look, Imogen, I thought you and I were past this, but you've been at my throat ever since Fiona got here. What is going on?"
"Nothing," Imogen mumbled, pushing her food around on her plate.
The long tense moment of silence that followed was interrupted by the oven timer sounding.
"That's the pie," Neil commented awkwardly. "I hope you like strawberry rhubarb, Fiona?"
Fiona mustered the best smile she could and nodded uncomfortably.
"Do you mind if I excuse myself to go to the ladies' room?" Fiona asked as Neil got up to get dessert ready.
Natalie nodded and Fiona got up, catching Imogen's eye in the process. She tried to ask her what was going on in her expression, but Imogen just shook her head.
When Fiona returned, Imogen was nowhere to be seen.
"She just ran down to the basement to get some ice cream," Natalie explained as Fiona sat down. "Why don't you go check on her?"
Fiona nodded and headed into the kitchen, where she remembered seeing the door to the basement. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she followed the light over to where Imogen was sitting on the ground in front of the freezer.
Imogen looked up when she heard Fiona approach.
"You okay, Immy?" Fiona questioned, squatting down next to her girlfriend and putting an arm around her.
"I'm sorry, Fiones," Imogen apologized quietly and Fiona sat down next to her on the cold concrete floor. "She just… It feels like I'm never good enough for her. 'Wear your contacts,' 'join the dance committee,' 'study something you don't want to just because it's more prestigious'. I just feel like I'm not the girl she wants me to be... It's partly why I didn't want you to come over. You're so much like her – I knew she'd love you. She'd love me if I were more like you."
"Im, I really don't think it's like that," Fiona responded gently, fully aware of how sensitive a subject this was. "I just think she doesn't know how to support you. The two of you are still getting to know each other again."
"You know the last time I was late coming home from your place, she told me you were bad influence on me. I defended you, you know."
Fiona studied Imogen, wondering where this was going. She reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her girlfriend's ear.
A few minutes passed without further explanation.
"We should go back up," Fiona suggested. "You know I think you are the most amazing, fantastic, wonderful person ever, right? And I love you so much."
Imogen smiled and rolled her eyes. "You're my girlfriend. You have to say that."
"No I don't. But even if I did, it wouldn't make it any less true."
"I don't know what I would do without you, Fiones," Imogen whispered before leaning forward and to give Fiona a grateful kiss. "Okay, let's do this, and then I can drive you home and we can make out in the backseat like teenagers until my curfew."
Fiona laughed and stood up, offering her hand to Imogen. "Immy, we are teenagers. And I am not making out in a car with you on Queen Street. It's way too busy – everyone walking past would see us."
"Darn," Imogen teased as she grabbed the ice cream. "I guess I'll just have to come up to your loft and make out with you there."
"I guess so," Fiona agreed with a grin. "We just better make sure my mother isn't home."
When she mentioned her mother, Fiona gave Imogen an accusing look, at which Imogen at least had the decency to look guilty. "Sorry, Fiones. I just wanted to be able to see you again and given how much time I spend at your place, if she knew there were no adults there..."
"I'm just teasing. It's okay, Im. I just wasn't expecting it," Fiona reassured her as they reached the top of the stairs. "Ready for dessert?"
Imogen took an exaggerated and dramatically deep breath. "Ready."
Xxx
The middle of the night and Fiona's active mind had never been a good combination.
It was in the middle of the night, when she couldn't keep her mind in check, that the urge to drink was strongest. Somehow, in the darkness, her mind concocted scenarios and thoughts that never would have occurred to her in the daylight. She had been known to work herself up into quite a mess.
Lying in bed that night after Imogen had left (perfectly on time for curfew), Fiona couldn't stop thinking about Imogen and Natalie. And Marisol's words from the day before kept shoving their way into her thoughts.
Mommy issues.
Marisol had said Imogen had mommy issues, and that's why she was in a relationship with Fiona.
Mommy issues. Was that even a thing?
From what Fiona understood, people seemed to refer to "daddy issues" when a girl dated a guy to compensate for attention she never got from her father. So Fiona supposed that in theory, mommy issues would be basically the same thing with the genders mixed up? Maybe?
There was no question in Fiona's mind after tonight that Imogen had serious problems with Natalie – problems that would take a long time to resolve.
And really, if anyone was entitled to mommy issues, it was Imogen. Abandoned by her mother at age 8 only to have Natalie turn around and start a new family without really trying to include Imogen. Constantly judged by her mother against impossible standards. Just wanting to be loved for who she was.
The more she thought about it, the more sense it made.
Imogen had never been attracted to any girls before Fiona, and she still wasn't sure what her relationship with Fiona meant with regard to her sexuality – whether she was bisexual or if Fiona was the exception to her straightness. Fiona hadn't cared because Imogen promised her that she loved her more than anyone else in the world – except her father, of course. That had been good enough for Fiona.
Imogen had told her that she wanted to be her girlfriend, and Fiona had never had any reason to question the motivation behind her feelings, but now… Maybe it was mommy issues. Maybe Imogen was just unknowingly transferring her desire to be close to her mother for desire to be with Fiona. Maybe Fiona was a surrogate for her mother.
If that was the case, it would mean that not only was their relationship very unhealthy, but also that Fiona had unintentionally taken advantage of Imogen.
The thought made Fiona feel physically sick.
She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she struggled to fight them back. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was hurt Imogen. She loved her girlfriend – she was in love with her – and the thought of taking advantage of Imogen in any way…
Her heart felt like it was breaking. The tears spilled down her cheeks, and Fiona couldn't stop them. She felt the familiar need for alcohol creeping up on her – she desperately wanted something to numb the pain. But even though she knew she was just making it worse, she couldn't stop talking herself into even more of a mess – rational thinking completely out the window.
Imogen said she had never felt the way she felt about Fiona about anyone else before. Fiona had thought that was a good sign until now.
Maybe the reason Imogen didn't feel the same way about her as she had about Eli wasn't because Imogen loved her. Maybe it was because she loved boys. Only boys. Maybe she just felt really strong friendship with Fiona but confused it for love.
It hadn't escaped Fiona's notice this evening that she had a lot in common with Natalie. They both were apparently interested in fashion. They had both been heavily involved in student council. They had both restarted their lives. They both had a history of making bad decisions when it came to Imogen. And they both – well, that was all Fiona could think of, but in the darkness of the early morning, it seemed like a lot.
Oh god.
A terrible thought occurred to Fiona. When she had been ready to move back to New York – when she had been ready to leave Imogen without so much as an explanation – that was just like what Natalie had done. And when she had stayed in Toronto, it was because of Imogen – because Imogen kissed her.
That kiss that had seemed so impulsive to Fiona suddenly felt a lot more complicated.
Imogen probably felt like her mother didn't love her enough to stay with her father. She probably felt like if she had been better – if she had loved her mother more – she would have stayed with them. What if that kiss was Imogen trying to love Fiona enough to convince her to stay?
The thought made Fiona break down completely.
After a few minutes, Fiona took a deep, trembling breath, and forced the tears to stop. She managed to calm her breathing down as she made her way to the bathroom, but when she looked in the mirror, her face was still red and splotchy from crying.
As she splashed cool water on her face, she tried to use the techniques she had learned in rehab to reason her way off the edge she had talked herself on to.
Imogen had never given her any reason to suspect that her feelings for Fiona were anything other than genuine. Fiona had felt the spark between them many times. She knew they had a special connection. She knew Imogen cared for her deeply. Besides, the way Imogen kissed her… let's just say that she never felt like she was pressuring her girlfriend into doing anything.
So why did Fiona feel so guilty? Why did she suddenly feel like she couldn't trust what Imogen was feeling?
She tried to push it all out of her mind. It was stupid and untrue. It was ridiculous!
Right?
Goddamn it, Marisol.
Xxx
Monday morning at school, Fiona couldn't concentrate.
Once the doubts had gotten in her mind, Fiona couldn't seem to shake them. She was sure she should find the mommy issues idea ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to make herself dismiss it altogether. Parts of it fit too perfectly.
So Fiona was distracted and Marisol got mad at her for spacing out during their presentation, but Mr. Simpson gave the charity fundraiser the green light anyway. Fiona was grateful. It would give her a good excuse to be busy this week while she figured some things out.
She was standing at her locker when she felt arms wrap around her head to cover her eyes. A low voice growled, "Guess who?"
Fiona knew it was Imogen, despite the disguised voice, because she was the only person Fiona knew who still did that. She brushed Imogen's hands off. "Hey, Imogen."
Imogen looked at her quizzically. "You okay, Fiones?"
Fiona smiled a little too widely. "I'm fine. Just tired. And I'm just going to be late for history class. I'll see you later?"
Imogen gave her a strange look, but let it slide. "Okaay, crazy girl. You know class doesn't start for ten minutes, right?"
"I, uh, need to, uh, talk to Marisol before class," Fiona stammered.
"Okay. Well I'll see you in study hall?" Imogen's voice was hopeful.
"Can't," Fiona replied as she closed her locker and began walking toward her class. "Gotta work on the fundraiser."
"Fiona?" The uncertain quality in Imogen's voice made Fiona turn around and take a few steps back towards Imogen. She needed some space, but she didn't want to hurt Imogen. She loved her too much.
"Yeah, Immy?" Fiona replied, hoping the nickname would earn her some trust points.
It seemed to because Imogen's facial expression softened and she held out her arms. "Can I have a hug?"
Fiona smiled as she walked into Imogen's arms. "Of course."
She couldn't help but inhale the scent of Imogen as she relaxed into her embrace. She truly loved this girl. She needed not to be taking advantage of Imogen's problems with her mother. She needed this to be real.
Fiona's face must have betrayed her thoughts because Imogen asked again, "Are you sure you're okay, Fiona? You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"I know, Im. I'm fine. Just stressed about getting the food bank fundraiser done by Thursday," Fiona lied, knowing this was one thing she couldn't tell Imogen. But being around her girlfriend felt so good. Maybe if she could just push all her doubts to the back of her mind, they would go away? "Are you free for lunch?"
"Band practice," Imogen said, making a face. "After school?"
"Back-to-back Skype dates with mom and dad, Declan, and Holly J," Fiona replied honestly.
"Poo," Imogen pouted petulantly.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" Fiona offered, but received only a glare in response. It made her laugh. "I really have to find Marisol. I'll see you later, Immy."
By Thursday afternoon, Fiona had successfully avoided Imogen for most of the week. The two of them were so busy that she didn't think Imogen suspected it was on purpose, but she still hadn't figured out what she was going to do. She knew she couldn't keep this up forever, but she wasn't sure what she needed to convince her that Imogen really loved her.
She missed Imogen. She missed spending time with her. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were before Marisol decided to open her big mouth.
When she asked for her mother's advice, Laura just told her she was being ridiculous. Eli had literally laughed in her face for three straight minutes and told her she was a huge idiot. And Holly J, in true Holly J style, told her that she didn't think it was what was going on, but that anything was possible. She suggested Fiona talk to Imogen, which Fiona told her was the absolute worst idea ever.
On Thursday after school, Fiona was sitting in the student council office sorting through donations when Imogen popped her head in. "Hey! Mo had an appointment, so we're done practice. Can you jet out early? I miss you, so we're hanging out tonight. I'll make us dinner and then we can watch that fashion designer reality show you like and do homework? Or if you're really busy and can't leave, I could help you with the fundraiser…?"
"No," Fiona shook her head, grateful for her girlfriend's forceful insistence that they spend time together. She didn't feel quite so guilty about potentially taking advantage of Imogen if Imogen was adamant about it. "I can leave. Your place or mine?
"Is yours okay?" Imogen asked. "I'm at Natalie and Neil's this week and I feel like Natalie's been on my case about everything – university applications in particular. I just need to get away for a bit. Is that okay?"
"It's fine," Fiona said, unsure about whether it really was. Imogen wanting to spend time with her because she wasn't getting along with her mother didn't exactly discredit her theories.
When they arrived at the Coyne loft, they found it empty. Imogen grinned and waggled her eyebrows at Fiona as she walked towards her, pushed her down on the couch and pressed their lips together. "Mmm… I've missed you this week, Fiones."
Fiona found herself breathless, like she usually did when Imogen kissed her. She swallowed hard and tried to convince herself that Marisol was an idiot. She didn't have to convince herself for long because all concrete thoughts left her mind when Imogen began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting gently. Fiona found her hands moving up Imogen's body, holding her closer.
"I love you so much," Imogen moaned, tearing herself away from Fiona for a moment.
"I…" Fiona began, wanting so much to believe Imogen, but stuck on that tiny sliver of doubt.
Before she could finish her thought, Fiona felt Imogen's phone vibrate. Imogen pulled back enough to fish it out of her pocket and she accepted the call when she saw the caller ID.
"Hi," she answered perkily, biting her bottom lip while her eyes were still focused on Fiona's neck. As she listened, her facial expression went from playful to solemn. "What?"
There was a pause and Fiona watched the colour drain from her girlfriend's face.
"Okay," Imogen said, her voice worryingly steady as she got up off of Fiona's lap. "I'm just going to call–"
Another pause.
"You did? Five minutes? Okay. I'll see you soon." Imogen hung up the phone and turned to Fiona. "That was Liam. Dad was having a really good day, so he didn't think twice about going out to the garage to get the recycle bin without locking the house, but when he got back, dad was gone. He already called my mom. She's coming to get me."
Imogen barely managed to get out her explanation before she began to cry, and Fiona enveloped her in a hug, unsure of what else to do or how to comfort her.
"Dad could just be wandering the streets, not knowing what's going on. Anything could happen – a car, a streetcar, walking into the wrong place or the wrong person, getting –"
"Immy," Fiona interrupted her, rubbing Imogen's back soothingly. "We'll find him. I promise. I know it's hard, but thinking about all the bad things that could happen is only going to make you more upset, and you need to be focused to find him, okay?"
Imogen nodded into Fiona's shoulder and clung to her more tightly. "I just don't know what I would do if anything happened to him, Fiona."
"I know," Fiona replied, wishing there was something she could do. "I know."
There was a knock on the door of the loft.
"It's open!" Fiona yelled as Imogen detangled herself from Fiona and hurried towards the door.
"Mom!" When Natalie opened the door, Imogen threw herself into her mother's arms, the sobs coming harder again.
In that instant that Fiona realized just what an idiot she had been.
"Shh, honey," Natalie whispered, stroking Imogen's hair, trying to calm her down. "I'm sure your father will be okay. Neil, Liam, and Gerry and Ida from next door are all out looking for him. He's probably having one of those episodes we talked about. Oh, honey, it's going to be okay."
Natalie raised her gaze to meet Fiona's eyes and she nodded in greeting before returning her attention back to her daughter. "Let's go to his house in case he comes home, okay? Or we could go look for him if you prefer?"
Imogen nodded, her breath catching when she inhaled. "L-let's go look."
"Do you want Fiona to come with us?" Natalie asked Imogen.
Fiona watched her girlfriend as she wiped tears away. She could see Imogen trying to pull herself together. "No, it's okay. She doesn't have to."
"Okay. Go say goodbye," Natalie said, gently.
Imogen walked quickly back over to Fiona and gave her a hug. "Is that okay, Fiona? It's not that I don't want you to come. It's just that it's kind of a family thing and it'll just be easier... I'll call you when we find him."
"It's okay, Imogen. And if you need me, I promise I'll be there as fast as I can," Fiona reassured her, never more grateful to have been rejected in her whole life. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Imogen murmured, her voice still shuddery from crying. "I'll call you later."
When Imogen went ahead to catch the elevator, Natalie lingered back.
"Thank you, Fiona," Natalie said quietly. "Imogen is very lucky to have such a supportive girlfriend."
"And such a supportive mother," Fiona replied sincerely. "She's just angry and frustrated, you know. When she gets upset with you."
"I know," Natalie smiled in acknowledgement. "And she has every right to be. But I'm trying to make it up to her. I know it will take a while to regain her trust. But in the meantime, I'm glad she has you. Anyway, we had better go – I'm double parked in front of your building."
Xxx
Later that night, Imogen called to tell her that Neil had found her father two blocks over, sitting on the porch of a house his friends used to own. He was alright but tired, and had gone up to bed the moment they got him home.
Imogen went home with her mother for the night, even though Natalie had suggested that she might want to stay at her father's.
"Mom was telling me how much she likes you on the way home. What did you guys talk about when I was getting the elevator, anyway?" Imogen asked, yawning.
"Nothing important," Fiona asserted casually, pausing before continuing tentatively. "Your mom loves you, you know."
There was silence on the other end of the line before Imogen replied. "I know. It just doesn't always feel like it."
Fiona heard Imogen yawn again and laughed. "Go to bed, sweetie. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Mmmm…" Imogen whined. "I wish you were here."
"Hey, you had your chance earlier and you declined to have me come!" Fiona teased, not at all hurt. "Besides, I don't think your mom likes me that much."
"Probably not," Imogen agreed. "You should work on that. I need a snuggle."
Fiona laughed. "I'll do my best."
"Goodnight, Fiona Coyne. I love you."
"I love you too, Immy."