Written in March of 2016 and crossposted on AO3 and PPMB.
Daria liked to joke about Helen's lack of parenting; this was obvious to everyone in the Morgendorffer household besides Jake. Truthfully, Helen could not blame her eldest daughter (and from ever parenting magazine she had ever read, she knew blaming her daughter for it would be a serious sign of unhealthy mother/daughter dynamics, which just wouldn't do). She could not deny that her presence in the lives of her daughters was often negligible. She made sure they got up in the morning, and fed them lasagna at night (when she had time between conference calls and Eric's bullshit to even microwave something for her family), and she asked how school was going. Usually, she was too exhausted to really listen (especially when it came to Quinn and that "fashion club"; discussion of lipstick colors or eyeshadow swatches was worse than watching paint dry for her), but she would offer up some platitudes, and move on with her life, transitioning as always between the perfect mother and the perfect lawyer so she could be better prepared for her next attempt at making partner.
She knew, in all honesty, she was not a good mother. Anything Helen started for her family could be (and often was) intercepted by anything Eric wanted or her office demanded, and she would gladly play their little games, even at the expense of actual familial bonding. She also knew what she did contribute as a mother was rarely for the good of her daughters; when she forced Quinn to study rather than go out when the girl's grades were plumetting, or when she checked on Daria to make sure she wasn't actually depressed, just an edgy teenager, it was not out of a sense of motherly duty. It was out of a sense of motherly guilt. Anything she did for her daughters was really just another way to cover up her shame about her negligence. Don't you see, she would say to herself, you're worried about them! You're a good mother! However, thisthought process- an attempt to make herself feel better- only dug her deeper into the pit of self-disgust.
Today was better than most, she supposed. Eric was on vacation to the Bahamas, and thankfully this time around, he chose to truly vacation from his work as well; this meant Helen was free from his nagging requests that treated her like a secretary rather than a fellow lawyer. The cases she worked on were slow and civil, and though it meant less opportunity to climb up the food chain at work, she needed the break. So, she came home from the office at a reasonable time, and even got to peak into her daughters' lives more than normal, and without any distraction. Quinn, she learned, was dating a new boy for his country club privileges. Daria was insecure in her friendship with Jane for some reason- unlike Quinn, Daria did not constantly call her peers and loudly chat about what was going on in her social circle, so Helen had to rely on mother's intuition to really get the scoop on her eldest daughter.
Lasagna was put in the microwave at exactly 5:52, so it would be done at 6 (a dinner deadline Helen could not remember meeting in months), and she called her children to eat, a task usually done while juggling a briefcase and a call with Eric over some mundane and simple task he simply could not do on his own. Today, however, she was free from work obligations and able to gain an introspective into her daughters' lives, and no matter how much she may have hated herself over her mothering skills, she would not waste and opportunity like this when it was practically handed to her on a silver platter.
Daria and Quinn sat down at the table, and Helen plated the lasagna fresh out of the microwave. Jake was at another conference, trying to acquire clients Helen doubted her husband would ever succeed in getting. She buried that thought, not wanting to drag up shame over her awful reputation as a wife when she was already mourning her parenting. The plates were set on the table, and she began her questioning.
"So, Quinn, how was school today?" Helen asked, a smile plastered on her face. She took a small bite of lasagna but it was for show. She did not want to worry about digestion when today was likely the only day this month she would have the time and energy to check up on her daughters as she should.
Quinn rolled her eyes and picked at her lasagna absentmindedly. "Fine, I guess. Sandy held an emergency meeting of the fashion club at lunch because apparently my choice of ankle bracelet was in opposition to the issue of Waif that came out yesterday- as if. When no one took her seriously except Stacey, who burst into tears because we have similar ankle bracelet taste, Sandy decided it was fine. How dramatic."
Quinn was trying to paint herself as above the drama of this "frenemey" of hers, Sandy. Helen couldn't sense that she was hiding something more under that, so she assumed Quinn was telling the truth and moved on to her eldest.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Quinn," Helen said, and she turned towards Daria. "What about you, Daria? How was your day?"
Daria snorted. "Kevin and Brittany tried to find a new place to makeout today. It was just terrific stumbling into their mating session when all I wanted was a copy of Gender Trouble. And Jodie and Mack are fighting, which means the only girl in the class I can tolerate besides Jane, and the only guy in the class with intelligent thought, are in a petty argument, and I can't talk to either of them because I really don't care. All in all, a great day."
Helen knew there was something beneath Daria's wall of sarcastic cynicism- some kind of insecurity. Maybe she had assumed wrong earlier. Did Daria have a boyfriend? Or was she anxious about a crush? It would make sense that Daria would feel uncomfortable with any crush on a boy in her quest for ideological purity. Perhaps, Helen thought, she could address it with her daughter after dinner.
"That doesn't sound nice," Helen said with a frown, and now her eldest daughter gifted her with an eyeroll. "Have you reported Kevin and Brittany to the principal? Surely that kind of behavior isn't tolerated."
Daria laughed, but it was humorless. "Puh-lease. Ms. Li doesn't care what the football players or cheerleaders do, so long as it isn't murder. Even then, she'd find a way to twist it so everyone could stay on the team. Rules don't apply to anyone in sports."
"Well, I think I'm going to call that woman," Helen said. "She needs someone to tell her it's unacceptable to operate a school that way."
"Yeah, who cares that she won't listen."
Helen wanted to scold Daria and remind her that action was always better than laziness, but decided against it. Daria wouldn't listen anymore than Ms. Li would seriously consider her proposal, and unlike calling Ms. Li, scolding Daria would completely shut her off from talking to Helen for the rest of the day.
They continued with some small talk until Quinn finished and slipped away to call Tiffany before her date with Fred the country club boy. Both Helen and Daria poked at their lasagna without any want to eat it. One problem with serving the same meal every night, Helen found, was that it quickly became the food she least wanted to eat.
An idea popped into her head, and she figured she may as well go along with it. "Daria," she asked, "why don't we leave this sorry lasagna and go get some food you want to eat? I'm sure your sister won't want to join us, since she has a date and all."
Daria looked genuinely shocked for a moment, but quickly covered it with her usual unaffected face. "Are shakes at Judy's okay?"
She has lasagna every day of her goddamn life, let's treat her to something better, Helen reasoned in her mind for a split second. She smiled at Daria. "Sure! Here, I'll go tell Quinn, and we'll be on our way."
Daria nodded in assent, and Helen felt a pang of joy. How long had it been since she and her eldest daughter truly bonded? Too long, she answered herself, before going to the living room, where her other daughter was already dressed up in a new outfit, and once again on the phone with a friend.
"Quinn," Helen said, smoothing out the creases on her skirt, "Daria and I are going to get milkshakes at Judy's. I'm assuming you have better things to do?"
Quinn looked annoyed at having to hold a conversation with her mother while also talking to Tiffany, but she nodded.
"Alright," Helen said, "we'll be going now. Call my cell phone number if you need me."
Quinn nodded again, and turned back to her conversation with Tiffany. Helen walked up the stairs and did not spot Daria, so she knocked on Daria's door.
"Just a minute," Daria called out, and Helen obeyed, crossing her arms and waiting for her daughter to come out. She heard some things being knocked over and some heavy breaths before Daria opened the door and came into the hallway. The two walked together down the steps and into the car.
Once in the car, Helen started the ignition amd looked over to Daria in the passenger seat. If this was a bonding session, she reasoned, she was going to go all the way.
"Daria, if you want to play your music, I won't mind."
Daria raised her eyebrows in surprise but seemed happy with the proposal, so she dug into the glove compartment for a CD while Helen backed out of the driveway. After a minute, she found the album of choice and put it into the player, and the first riffs of "Supervixen" by Garbage began to play. While rock music was not necessarily Helen's favorite genre, she wasn't opposed to it, and it had been too long since she had the chance to actually listen to music without stress over work, so she accepted her daughter's choice and let herself absorb the mellow nature of the song.
Amicable silence filled the air as both mother and daughter listened to the music and each other rather than talk, but Helen did not mind. She knew Daria was comfortable, and she celebrated that victory as much as any other in her mind. The drive was short (only two songs), but the mood of both in the car was good as Helen pulled into a space right in front of the doors to Judy's.
She let the song end before turning off the car and stepping out, which Daria seemed to appreciate. When they did get out, Helen smiled at her daughter, who gave a small one back. Helen accepted the gesture, even if Daria returned to her unaffected demeanor a second later. They went into the restaurant, and both became absorbed in the busy atmosphere. It was filled with teenagers hanging out long after school had ended, and Helen soon worried this would off put her daughter, who did not like many at her school. She knew the fear was unfounded when she glanced at her daughter, whose only interest was in deciphering the menu to find an acceptable shake.
"I want a medium cookies and cream," Daria told Helen after a few moments of searching. Helen walked up to the cashier and ordered. Then, they both sat down in the only corner of the fast food joint not filled with babbling teenagers.
The silence resumed, but now Helen was worried. What would she say to her daughter? She felt speechless, but she knew something had to be addressed here, or the whole thing would be a waste. Reluctantly, she decided their discussion at the dinner table would be continued.
"So, Daria, are there... any boys at school you like?" As soon as the question slipped out of her mouth, Helen regretted it. She was sure it would alienate her daughter and make her stop letting Helen in.
When she looked at Daria's face, though, Helen could tell her fears were not what was going through Daria's mind at that moment. Was there any reason for that question to make Daria so anxious?
"Um... about that, Mom," Daria began, and again, Helen felt joyous. Daria was opening up to her!
Before Daria could continue, though, Helen heard it. That infernal sound that always drove her up a wall, which had become the symbol of the rift between her and her family. Eric's ringtone was playing on her cell phone.
The moment Daria heard it, she became cross, folding her arms and sighing. Helen felt panicked- after all the strides she was making, Eric had to interrupt? When she finally thought she would get a new relevation from her daughter, he chose to intercept and steal away her attention. All this passed through her mind before she picked up the phone from her purse and answered.
"Hello, Eric," she answered, pretending to be happy with the development. "Oh, your vacation is going well? That's great."
Daria sank deeper into the cushions of the booth, and it broke Helen's heart. This was her reality, Helen reminded herself. Everytime something meaningful happened between her and her mother, her mother was interrupted, and the moment was lost.
"Yes, Eric- yes, I did go over these files today- no, he didn't ask that-"
Helen gave her daughter a once-over. Was this the motherhood she would commit to, alway being demoted when work came up, to the detriment of her family? Was this all she was cracked up to be, an overworked lawyer with terrible parenting that could be interrupted at any time if something more important came up?
No, Helen thought. Not again. Not today.
"Yes Eric, I- Yes, I did. No, Mr. Schrecter didn't find it relevant. Okay- Listen, Eric. I was having a very important conversation with my daughter just now. I will call you back when we're done and then we can talk about this."
Daria seemed to perk up, extremely surprised at what she had just heard her mother tell her boss. Helen had hope- the conversation could be salvaged, the bonding could still happen. She could still be a good mother today.
"Yes, Eric, I am absolutely serious. This case is fine and there's nothung to add to it right now. You can go an hour without me. Sorry, I have something more important going on. I'll call you back. Goodbye."
Helen shut her cell phone in triumph, even as Eric could not believe she was standing up to him. She turned her attention back to Daria.
Daria looked... vulnerable. Not sad, but vulnerable, like she was ready to reveal something. Helen was touched. Maybe she had salvaged something, just now. Maybe.
"Thanks, for telling him to shut up. I appreciate it."
Helen smiled. "It was time to put you first," she said. "He can wait."
"Well," Daria said, and she paused for a moment, "I have something to tell you. I've known for a while, but I didn't tell you because you've been busy, and it's not that important, I just think you need to know it sooner or later, so why not sooner? God, okay, I'll stop rambling and get to the point. I'm a lesbian. I just figured you should know."
Helen couldn't help but let her jaw drop. Whatever she was expecting from her daughter, it was certainly not that. Sure, Daria had never really shown an interest in boys, but somehow this still felt surprising. Maybe, if Helen had been doing this all along, and observing like a good parent, she would have noticed this sooner. Maybe, if-
Before the self-hatred could continue, Helen tried to center herself. This was not about her. Daria was revealing something personal, and important to her, and she obviously trusted Helen enough to tell her, even in this busy restaurant filled with her peers. Helen had to respond, and quick, before Daria made the assumption that Helen was disappointed, or did not approve.
"I didn't expect you to tell me that," Helen began in a whisper, "but I'm honored that you trust me enough to tell me. I'm not going to rattle off a bunch of crap about how you aren't sure, or you're too young to know, or whatever. I'm sure you know what's best for you. All I can say is that I hope this doesn't... unnecessarily burden you. And I don't mean that being a lesbian is a bad thing. It's not in any way. What I mean is, now I know you're going to face bigots, who will try to hurt you because of who you love. And I wish you wouldn't have to face that. But I'm proud of you. I'm glad you told me. And I'm happy to welcome any girl into our home the same way I let Quinn date boys." Helen finished and took a breath, not meaning for what she said to meander that far, but also feeling what she said was adequate.
Daria nodded, and looked like she might cry, when a worker came holding their shakes. "Two medium cookies and cream milkshakes?"
Helen nodded, and he set them down on the table and left. She grabbed one and the straw he had brought, fixing it up for herself. Daria seemed to settle for silence, which Helen was happy with. It was good silence. I-don't-know-what-to-say-but-thank-you silence. It said enough.
Daria sipped her milkshake too, and for once, Helen relished in the moment. Her daughter felt comfortable enough to come out to her, after Eric called and Helen forced him to leave her alone. She didn't mess this up. Maybe she could manage this motherhood thing. Whatever the case, even for a moment she felt proud, and this pride was out of motherly love, and nothing else.
