Something in Mitchie's life is missing, is it an ex, or a left-behind-career. Mitchie is married, has a two-year old daughter, and is still searching for herself. When something happens, Mitchie knows it's what's been missing, but what she does about it isn't right.
yes, this story is when they are grown-up....i am continuing my other story, I've just been very busy with school......please review....i don't want to give to much away, but I know this story will turn out well. Plus, some chapters will be song-fics!
The sunshine was pouring in through the French doors that lead to the balcony. The sun was so bright that you could clearly see all the dust floating in the room like a spotlight was pointed on each little speck. The sunlight also brought warmth with it, not the kind of warmth where it's too hot, but the kind that's just perfect. The room was also silent, it had a calming sense to it, and it was so serene even a hyper child filled with a bottle of Mountain Dew could be calmed.
Mitchie stirred in her bed, and instinctively groped on the other side of her bed, finding it empty, except the small piece of paper her hand found in her search for something else. She opened her eyes, sat up and pulled the paper to the front of her face. The small note read;
Mitchie, baby, sorry I am not here for you when you wake up.
I went to work, they needed some one quick and I was the only
one available. I'll be home by four.
Love you,
~S~
Mitchie smiled, he always left her a note when he had to go substitute for a music class; he was so thoughtful that way. She also loved the way he only signed it with an S. She glanced at her bedside clock, finding it was only 8:30. She decided she might be able to get a little bit more sleep, so she turned on her side and closed her eyes.
As she was just about to fall asleep she was stirred up.
"Mommy, mommy!" the cries came from down the hall. She sighed and got out of her bed, pulling on her robe hanging by the door as she swiftly walked out of the room. The cries got louder. Mitchie soon entered the pink room filled with fluffy bunnies, and soft blankets.
"It's okay, mommy's here now." The two year old calmed down a little at her mothers soothing voice, but raised her arms up, hoping she'd be picked up. Mitchie scooped her in her arms, and cooed, "Good morning beautiful, daddy's at work, and today mommy and you will go have some girl fun. But first, let's get you some breakfast."
Twenty minutes later after the highchair was filled with Cheerios, just like the child, and was covered in pink yogurt, again, like the child.
"Oh, look at you Caitlyn, clad in your breakfast." Mitchie giggled as she wiped all the food of her daughter and pulled her out of the highchair.
"Fun, mommy, fun!" Caitlyn said pointing to the door.
"Soon, we will go to Grandma and Grandpas. You can play there." Mitchie told her.
Mitchie was driving her car, Caitlyn in the back. The music was blaring, and Mitchie was singing just as loud. Caitlyn tried to keep up, singing nonsense in her high little girl soprano.
"That was beautiful, Caitlyn." Mitchie said when the song ended.
"Mommy sing pretty." Caitlyn complimented.
"You're one smart two year old, already forming sentences." She turned to look at her daughter, smiling at her. "And, look, here we are." She pointed to her parent's house. Caitlyn clapped.
"Hey, sweetie," Mrs. Torres smiled, as she answered the door, and then turned to Caitlyn, "there's my beautiful granddaughter."
"Gramma!" Caitlyn cried going straight to her grandmothers arms.
"Hey, mom," Mitchie smiled.
"So home alone today, huh?" Connie asked.
"Yep, just decided to have some fun."
"Okay, come in, why don't you sit and play the piano, and sing, while your father and I finish breakfast?" She asked.
Mitchie just shrugged and nodded. "Why not?" Mitchie trudged over to the piano, sat down and began to play and sing. She leaned over to get a better look at her mother, who grinned, baring all teeth. Mitchie weakly smiled back, and continued to sing. She finished the song. Her family clapped, especially Caitlyn.
"Very beautiful, darling," her father praised.
"Um, you guys do know you don't have to clap every time I do something." Mitchie responded to the overbearing admiration.
"We were just proud, honey, no need to get upset." Her mother said, frowning. Mitchie didn't realize her tone of voice when she spoke.
"Well, mom it's not important every time I sing, I do it all the time." Mitchie cringed when she realized how she spoke.
"Well, what if I want to clap, you deserve it." Connie was now mad. Mitchie glanced at Caitlyn who had become quiet, and was now staring from her mom, to her grandmother and back again. Mitchie could tell the fighting upset her, she looked down at the piano, and inhaled hard and swift, then exhaled a little slower.
"Mom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk to you that way. And we shouldn't fight, it upsets Caitlyn." She finally said, hoping her sincerest apology would calm her mother, and herself.
"I'm sorry too, but I don't see why you always become upset when we try to be encouraging." Connie replied.
"I don't know, just because I don't feel I need all of it, it's not like I just rocked a huge venue."
"Which is what you should be doing, why did you give it up?" her mother sounded disappointed and a little bit of anger was hovering under her tone.
"I didn't give it up, I just…I just felt other things were more important." Mitchie responded, not sure if it was the answer she, herself wanted to hear.
"What happened to that fifteen year old girl, who wouldn't give up until she got to go to Camp Rock, or that girl who lied to try to get somewhere, or that girl who only had music in her life to focus on?" Connie quipped.
"I don't know, I – I d – I don't –" Mitchie stuttered, tears swelling in eyes, but she willed herself not to cry, she wasn't fifteen anymore, that was ten years ago, now she was twenty five, on the verge of twenty six, and she wanted to cry because she didn't know who she was anymore, maybe she didn't. Maybe she thought she had everything she ever wanted. But if she stepped outside of herself, and viewed her life, she would realize she didn't really have everything, she just felt she did, she just persuaded herself she did.
"Hey Caitlyn, why don't you and grandpa go outside and swing on the swings, would you like that?" Mitchie's dad sensed the tension, and didn't want to upset his granddaughter any further.
"Yeah," Caitlyn perked up, running to her grandfather, giving her mother one last look of interest, and maybe disappointment, before she jumped into her grandfather's arms. Mitchie tried to smile to reassure Caitlyn everything was alright, but that broke the shield between her will to look happy, and the force of the tears. A few hot tears slid down her cheeks. She looked back up.
"Mom?" she forced out of her throat, which was tightened from trying to hold in long over due tears, long over due realizations.
"What, Mitchie?" her moms voice made her cry more.
"Do you think I'm doing what I wanted? Or, do you think I made the wrong choices?"
"I don't know honey, are you happy?" That set Mitchie thinking. But the shill ring of her cell phone went off, making her jump a little.
"Hello, Sam." Her voice came out fake, like she was lying about hating a present that she got, pretending it was one of the best things she ever got, "how's work today?"
"Mitchie, baby, are you okay?" he asked, worried.
"Yeah, I'm fine, its' nothing, um so why are you calling?"
"I just had a few minutes and I still feel bad about leaving you this morning." His voice came through the receiver distraught.
"Don't worry, I'm at my parent's, look I got to go, see you tonight for dinner." Mitchie said.
"Okay, love you." Worry and fear were bubbling under his voice, but he knew not to push any further.
"Uh-huh, love you, too." Mitchie hurriedly hung the phone up and looked up at her mom, "I don't know. I feel happy, but I've never really thought about it before." She answered Connie's earlier question.
"Truthfully, I think that last time I saw you really, truly happy, was when you were still with him." Mitchie knew real well who 'him' was.
"Mom, that was almost six years ago. I think I'm over him, I mean, I'm married, and Caitlyn's my world. He's just the past. And that was also the last time you saw me really truly upset, too. So I'm over him, I'm over it."
"Honey, I hope you really do feel that way." Connie said.
"I do, I think I do, I'm pretty sure I do."
"Pretty sure isn't exactly the right answer."
"Well sometimes that's all I got, not always being a hundred percent sure is part of taking chances to see what happens." Mitchie was mostly trying to convince herself, not her mom.
"Alright," her mom said leaving, and that's how Mitchie knew she had thinking to do.
After a day of fun-filled mother-daughter bonding, Mitchie pulled into her garage, letting one last tear fall from her eye. She wiped her face and looked back at Caitlyn who had fallen fast asleep as soon as they started home. Mitchie looked at the car clock, it was only six, and she knew she would have to wake Caitlyn up, or she would never sleep the whole night.
"Caitlyn, sweetie, we're home. Wake up." She cooed to the sleeping toddler. She got out of the car and opened the back door, carefully unhooking Caitlyn's seat straps. As she pulled her daughter into her arms the child awoke, a smile still on her face.
"Daddy," she cried pointing to the door leading into the house.
Mitchie smiled, "yeah, daddy's in there."
As soon as Mitchie opened the door a scent wafted to her.
"Sam," she called into the house.
"Yes, baby?" his response floated to them from the kitchen. Mitchie strolled over to the kitchen, taking in the scene around her. Sam was cooking a full meal; she could smell chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans. She laughed at the sight before her, he turned and looked at her, and she could tell he noticed her tear stained cheeks. She looked down, pretending to be interested in the hair that had come loose from Caitlyn's pigtails.
"Sam, what are you doing?" she giggled noticing the messes on the counters, on Sam; his chin had potato on it, and his shirt was drenched in water. She placed Caitlyn in her highchair and walked closer to Sam.
"I'm cooking dinner, and um," he scanned the whole room, "and making a huge mess."
"Obviously, but why are you doing this?"
"Because you seemed upset today when I was talking to you on the phone, and I thought it would be nice to relieve you of some stress." He walked closer to her, looking deeper into her eyes. She stepped back, and he followed, "are you okay?" he asked, tracing the tear stains on her cheek. She pulled away swiftly, and maneuvered around him, to the stove, where the water in the green beans was about to boil over. She picked up the spoon and stirred the water, and turned the knob above the stove, which clicked as it switched to off. She took it over to the sink, feeling Sam's eyes on her the whole time; she started to drain the water from the pot.
Sam walked over and put his arms around her, Mitchie squirmed out of his grasp.
"Not, now." She murmured. He just looked at her, and they silently finished preparing the dinner.
They sat down to the table and began to eat.
"So, um, how was work today?" Mitchie asked, knowing she had to stop the silence somehow.
"It was good, you know the usual; crazy kids, out-of-tune and off key singing. Plus some immature fifth grade boys." Sam answered keeping his head down, "how about your day?"
"We went to my parents, then to the park, and then did a little bit of shopping. We had fun, didn't we Caitlyn?"
"Fun, fun! Dow slide, mommy push me swings!" Caitlyn almost yelled, she paused and then remembered more accounts of her day, "Grandpa push me swings, gramma maked cookies. Mommy buy some clothes!"
"Sounds like fun, too bad I missed it." He smiled at Caitlyn, who beat her hands on the tray of her highchair. Mitchie and Sam both laughed, and then looked briefly at each other and awkwardly returned to eating.
Two hours later, Mitchie successfully put Caitlyn down for the night and returned to her bedroom, and exhaustedly plopped onto her bed, letting out a sigh. She stared at the ceiling; all the thoughts that repetitively circulated her head all day fluttered back to her attention.
Did I make the right choices? Did I give it up? Does my happiness have anything to do with him? Am I really doing what I wanted? Then they started again; did I make the right choices? Did I give – but she was pulled from her thoughts when Sam appeared over top of her, his elbows and forearms resting on the pillow under Mitchie's head, her legs between his.
"Okay, so what was wrong?" he asked.
"Just get off, please." Mitchie ordered, she didn't want to laugh, but she did, then she glared at him, just laughing more, "look, I'm sorry for um, treating you that way, but will you please get off of me?" he just nodded, rolled over to the other side of the bed, turning on his side to look at her better, a curly dirty-blonde lock falling into his eyes.
"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he casually asked.
"Oh, it's really nothing, more personal things." She came up with an impromptu excuse.
"Oh, if tears are nothing how will I know when something is up?" Mitchie turned to him, he always had the best comebacks, and she knew she had to tell him.
"Do you think I made the wrong choices, do you think I gave up my dream?" she asked, concerned maybe he thought so.
"That depends, what was your dream?" he inquired, never breaking his stare into her eyes. Mitchie wanted to look away, she felt exposed under his gaze, but his gaze held her there.
"Um, like, I don't know; I guess it was to be somebody."
"But you are somebody, my somebody." He replied, stroking her hair.
"Yeah, but I mean I always wanted to make it somewhere, with singing and what-not" she said, "like I wanted to be famous, tour the country, tour the world. I wanted a shot at fame, and I think I gave it up." He looked at her for a couple seconds.
"I think you made the choices that you thought would benefit you the most." He took her hand.
"I know, I mean, I married you, I have Caitlyn, it's everything I wanted, but I always felt something was missing, and my mom brought it up today and now I know." She looked at their intertwined hands, "but I don't want to feel empty anymore." She couldn't help it but a tear slid down her cheek.
"I think you might need a night to think about this, but in my opinion, as long as you're truly happy, then you made the right choice.
Mitchie turned over, her hand still in Sam's and he put his arms around her, pulling her close. She let a few more tears slide down her face, before finally falling into a restless sleep.
I hope you like it so far....more, better stuff will happen in the next few chapters...please review and check out some of my other stories!!!!