Some time ago...
"Now what are you two doing down here?" Theresa asked as she looked down at the two young girls sprawled on her living room couch.
She hadn't expected an answer, since both girls were obviously asleep. But apparently she'd spoken just loudly enough to rouse the little redhead.
Harper's drowsy eyes widened with alarm when she saw Mrs. Russo. She knew she and Alex shouldn't have snuck downstairs past bedtime...but Alex had insisted and, as usual, gotten her way.
"Don't be mad," Harper squeaked. "Please! I'm sorry!"
Theresa was taken somewhat taken aback by the girl's fear
"Oh, honey," she said soothingly. "Don't be afraid. I'm not mad at you." She knelt down and gently patted Harper's head. "But why aren't you and Alex in bed?"
Reassured by Mrs. Russo's kind tone, Harper explained how she and Alex had ended up on the couch...though Theresa had already figured out the chain of events from the clues at hand...the empty cookie jar on the floor in front of the couch being the most obvious.
"I told Alex we shouldn't," Harper said timidly.
"Nnuuuh...stop worrying, Harper," Alex mumbled in her sleep and then rolled over and continued to slumber.
Theresa shook her head as she looked down at her sleeping daughter. "Oh Mija," she sighed. She picked up Alex to carry her back upstairs and looked towards Harper. "Come on...let's get you both back in bed."
Harper followed dutifully and soon she was tucked in again besides the still sleeping Alex. Theresa noticed however there was still a bit of worry in the redhead's eyes.
"I promise I won't get out of bed again...and I'll never eat cookies if you don't want me to."
"Harper-" she began, but her little house guest didn't give her a chance to continue.
"And I'll be good...just please...I like sleepovers here with Alex. And I like visiting...and-"
"Harper," Theresa repeated firmly, putting an end to the girl's nervous rambling. "Relax." She studied the worried face for a moment before continuing. "Did you think I wouldn't let you come visit or sleepover anymore because you and Alex snuck out of bed?"
Harper nodded.
"Sweetie, you're always welcome here." She smiled warmly. "Just...try and keep Alex from talking you into breaking the rules, okay?"
"I promise," Harper answered...with so much attempted solemness that Theresa had to struggle to keep a laugh at bay.
"Alright, dear," she told the girl. "Now go back to sleep."
Theresa rose to leave but was stopped by a timidly voiced question.
"What was that, dear?" she said as she turned back to Harper. "I didn't hear you."
"What's a me-ha?" Harper repeated. "You call Alex me-ha sometimes. And Justin and the baby you call me-ho."
Theresa chuckled. "Mija...and Mijo. That's Spanish. Mija is for girls...and Mijo is for boys. It's a term of endearment."
"Endearment?" Harper asked.
"Like a nickname," she continued, realizing she'd have to explain in terms the young girl would not be confused by. "Something grownups call children they're close to."
"Oh." Then after a moment...another question. "Am I a me-ha?"
Theresa chuckled again. She could see where this was leading. "Of course you are. But enough questions for now. You need to sleep." She gave Harper another warm smile. "Goodnight, Mija."
"Goodnight, Mrs. Russo," Harper replied...because she was polite and respectful and that was the appropriate way to address her best friend's mother.
A considerable amount of time after that...
"Alex will you at least pretend like you'll do some of the homework?" Harper asked in an exasperated tone.
"But it's the worst homework EVER!" her best friend protested.
Harper scoffed. "Oh come on. It's simple vocabulary."
"Why do I even have to take Spanish? They already make me take English...who needs two languages?" She paused. "Besides...they should just give me an automatic pass on this because of Mom. I've got an entire side of the family that speaks Spanish."
"But you don't speak a word of it," Harper countered.
"And again...why would I? Everyone in the family speaks English too. I only need one language."
"Oh just do some vocabulary with me," Harper said firmly. She was no longer the shy timid girl she'd once been. Years of spending time with the Russos had seen to that. Oh she was still a sweet and accommodating sort of soul. The kind of girl that her teachers appreciated and labelled a model citizen...with good cause. But she was also, when necessary, bold and forceful.
So forceful that she was (sometimes) even capable of getting Alex to do some schoolwork.
"Okay...okay," the sassy brunette said reluctantly. "What are we doing here?"
"Read this list of words in English," Harper instructed. "And I'll give the Spanish translation."
And so they did. It was very basic vocabulary. Simple words like: house, dog, sky, father, son...
...daughter.
Checking in the textbook to see if she'd translated the list right...Harper paused when she came to that one. She'd translated it correctly...Hija. But there was a bit of text in the sidebar of that page of the Spanish book. Text that explained about slang and variations of usage. And there it was in black and white...
Mija...My daughter.
It was a contraction. It was slang. And in Mexico it was used pretty much exactly as Theresa had once explained to a much younger Harper. A term of endearment that adults used for children they were close to.
But taken literally...it meant 'my daughter'.
"Harper? Hey, Harper? You're spacing out."
"Huh? Oh...sorry," the redhead finally responded.
"Is something wrong?" Alex asked.
"No...I...no."
Alex raised an eyebrow curiously, but then smirked. "Aha...it's just like I suspected. Too much homework is harmful. It's affecting even you."
"Even if that were true," Theresa's voice sounded as she entered the room. "You have a long way to go before you're in danger, Alex."
"But Mom," the teen replied with smile. "Can we really afford to take that chance?"
Theresa rolled here eyes but then turned to Harper, noting that the redhead did seem a bit distracted.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. I...I think Alex does actually have a point. I do need a break."
Knowing that Harper would never shirk her responsibilities when it came to school, Theresa didn't hesitate in her reply. "Well, then take one."
"Whatever you say," Alex said quickly as she all but sprinted towards the door.
"Alex!" Theresa called after her. "I was talking to Harper! ALEX!"
But the younger Russo had already made her escape.
"Oh, that girl," Theresa said exasperated. She turned to Harper. "She gets this from Jerry's side of the family. You know that." But her joking stopped when she saw that Harper still had a somewhat troubled expression. She approached the teen with concern in her eyes.
Motherly concern.
"Are you sure nothing's wrong?" Theresa asked as she touched Harper's forehead, looking for signs of a fever.
And Harper, who'd spent more time at the Russos than at her own home for years now...and so ofthen wished that she could spend all her time there, had her emotions far too jumbled to properly answer. Instead she replied, "No, no...I'm just...tired."
"Well, then maybe you should go lie down," Theresa offered. "But if you need anything...just yell."
Harper nodded and started towards the stairs...as Theresa said one thing more to her.
"Goodnight, Mija."
Harper simply nodded again...for although she was polite and respectful, she was not entirely sure of the appropriate way to address her best friend's mother.
Now...
If there was one thing the Russos did right...it was holidays.
Indeed, if one considered just the food alone...how could it get any better? Both Jerry and Theresa were fantastic cooks...who normally took turns preparing their everyday meals. But for a holiday meal? That was when they combined forces and invariably produced feasts that the the gods themselves were envious of.
Still, there was much more than just the food to enjoy. Holidays were about family...and now...with their children grown and out living on their own...the holidays also provided them with the opportunity to all come together.
As Harper sat in the midst of the latest gathering...she took a moment to do the math. Was this her 21st Thanksgiving with the Russos? 22nd? She found it amusing that she couldn't remember the exact number off the top of her head. It didn't matter though. She was loving this one...just as she'd loved all their previous ones together.
She sat down and joined Alex as she chatted with Justin and his wife Juliet. They caught up on recent developments, reminisced about old times...and laughed as they playfully complained how it was unfair that Juliet STILL looked like a teenager.
Then Harper drifted over to the youngest of the Russo siblings. Max and his fiancee Nancy were as fun...and as eccentric as ever. Harper thought it was great that fate had decided to reunite Max with his first serious girlfriend all these years later. And really it was for the best. As nice as they both were...and as undeniably attractive as they both were...they were both just too darn weird to be happy with anyone but each other.
As the hours flew by, the night ended as the holidays gatherings always did...with everyone zonked out in the living room except for Theresa and Harper. The two women would chat as they shared cleanup duty in the kitchen. There was always a lot to clean...yet it never seemed like difficult work. They were just too good a team when it came to housework.
And then when they were done, they'd sit together and drink hot chocolate and talk about the things that were too important to chat about as they cleaned. Their worries...their hopes...their feelings...their loved ones.
And then finally, they'd be too tired to talk. So they'd check on everyone in the living room to make sure they were fine where they were or if they needed to be escorted to one of the bedrooms. Once that was taken care of, the two women would head to their own respective beds...but not before a final exchange.
Theresa would say: "Goodnight, Mija."
And Harper would reply: "Goodnight, Mom."
Because she was polite and respectful...and a grateful and loving daughter who had no questions about the appropriate way to address her mother.
The End.
author's note: As with most of my fics, conversation with my friend SilverTurtle helped me craft this tale. I encourage everyone to go read her stories and cajole...er, encourage her to write more herself.