Teenagers, they had become. Little adults, full of energy, always running in and out of the house.
Atticus Finch first noticed, or rather felt, this phenomenon when he came home to an empty house one Friday evening. Well, nearly empty.
"Mr. Finch, is that you?" Calpurnia's voice traveled from the kitchen, where he could smell something simply aromatic in the air.
"Hello Cal," He walked into the kitchen, with a courteous smile.
"Evenin', Mr. Finch." She was whisking some eggs, before she looked up at Atticus, who was absentmindedly looking around the room, "Awful quiet in here, Mr. Finch."
"Yes, it sure is quiet." Atticus murmured in agreement. For the first time, he could literally hear the silence. There was the ticking of the clock, the whisk hitting the bowl, the whistle of birds out the open window. He repeated again with a disappointed sigh, "It sure is quiet."
"Yessir, Mister Jem's at football practice at the high school and Jean Louise, she at the movies with Dill," Calpurnia had a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips, before looking up at Atticus with a wary expression on her face, "They's teenagers now, Mr. Finch. Can't have a moment's peace with or without'em at home."
He chuckled, finding strange comfort with Calpurnia's wise words. He mused for a second at the fact that the woman knew exactly what was on his mind.
"Yes, I suppose so, Cal," He undid his cuff links, nodding as he left the kitchen, "If you need anything, I think I'll take my reading on the front porch tonight."
"Sure, Mr. Finch," She curtly nodded, as the two of them continued to do as they did.
Seventeen year old Jeremy Finch was the first to come home, half an hour or so after his father did.
"Hey Cal," The screen door rattling behind him as he stepped inside the kitchen from the back door. Sweat was dripping down his face as he swung his sports shoes that we hanging over his shoulder by the laces. He dropped them on the floor as he wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve.
"Hello Mister Jem," Calpurnia was dicing some carrots, peeking as Jem walked toward the icebox and retrieved a cold bottle of milk. With a scowl on her face, she stopped her dicing and put her hand on her hip, "Now, Mister Jem -"
Too late. Jem had already began drinking the sweet and cold milk straight from the bottle and he turned to her with a meek grin, wiping the drips of milk off the corners of his mouth with his dirty sleeve.
"Let's make a deal, Cal," He placed the half-empty bottle of milk on top of the icebox as he leaned against the wall, "I won't drink straight from the bottle if you won't call me Mister Jem anymore. Cal, I'm Jem! I'm your Jem."
She raised her eyebrows, then decided to play the game his way. Calpurnia couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that this was the same boy who was ready to drop out of high school and join the army just a year before. Jem had argued violently with Atticus, who in the span of a couple weeks, was able to convince Jem that he could join as soon as he turned eighteen years old. When Jean Louise mentioned to her brother that he had one arm that was shorter than the other, the boy nearly exploded with rage.
"Go ahead and drink straight outta the bottle. I don't mind," She shrugged, then added with a smirk, "You're a growing boy, Jeremy."
A giant smile spread across Jem's face, and the sight of the woman who had practically raised him and his sister in front of him filled him with more reason to smile.
"You're a real gem, Cal, you know that?" He walked next to her, as she wondered when Jem stood a foot or so taller than she was. Still, he was not as quick as she was. Calpurnia swatted his hands away from the hot food sitting at the counter, "Hey! I'm hungry."
"Dinner'll be ready in a couple of minutes," She scolded, scrunching up her nose playfully, "Go on and wash up now."
"I won't be staying for dinner, Cal," Jem informed as he walked toward the bathroom, then he added quite excitedly, "Got a hot date tonight."
Calpurnia could only shake her head, picturing the giant grin that was bound to be on the seventeen year old's face. Teenagers.
Atticus looked up from his paper when he heard two voices talking in the darkness. He pushed his eyeglasses up as he squinted to see his daughter and the boy next door walking hand in hand. They stopped in front of the house, standing at the sidewalk. Atticus Finch could not help but feel curious, folding up the newspapers in his hand before sitting up straight in his chair.
Fourteen year old Charles Baker Harris had grown to become a lanky teenager who suddenly became brightly aware of the fact that Scout was a girl.
Atticus watched as Dill pecked his daughter's face with a kiss. Before even he could respond, Scout had tackled him to the ground. The patriarch immediately leaped out of his seat, throwing his papers on the ground as he walked over to the two of them. They were screaming their heads off, uncaring of neighbors who would immediately gossip about the two of them after peeking at them from out their windows.
"Scout!" His steady voice interrupted the two of them.
"Sir!" Dill's voice jumped an octave higher. He roughly grabbed Scout by the arm and pulled her up along with him.
"Dill and me were just playing around, Atticus," Scout explained, yanking her arm away from Dill with a glare on her face. She directed her attention back to her father, who had his eyebrows raised, "We weren't really fighting, Atticus. Honest."
"It was my fault, Atticus," Dill walked forward to Atticus, a little abashed, "You see, Scout wanted me to kiss her, just like in the pictures, but I was too chicken."
"Dill Harris!" Scout exclaimed, looking from father to best friend. She looked ready to pound on Dill again.
"Scout," Atticus's voice raised in warning. Scout gave a big sigh.
"Alright, I'm sorry Dill." She apologized.
"It's okay, Scout." Dill shrugged, then reassured her, "I'll kiss you when we get married."
"I'll be an old maid by then!" Scout was exasperated with that comment and was thoroughly ready to bicker.
Atticus found it hard to suppress a smirk at their words and behavior. They certainly behaved the same as they did when they were kids. Yet, Atticus knew in his heart that their feelings and emotions had changed. These comments that they made suddenly had meaning and one of them was that these kids were growing up.
"Supper's ready, Mr. Finch," Calpurnia called out the front door, acknowledging Scout and Dill with a cordial greeting.
Dill turned to Scout.
"Well, Scout," Dill was already ready to go round the fence that sat between his Aunt Rachel's place and Scout's place, sticking his hands into his pockets, "We still going to the record store tomorrow?"
She nodded and it was clear the two of them clearly did not wish to part.
Atticus cleared his throat.
"Surely you'll have some dinner before you marry my daughter, Dill?" Atticus laughed, as a giant smile emerged on Dill's face.
Atticus was quite content as he sat in the living room, listening to Jem and Scout and Dill listening to music records. It reassured him, knowing that the three of them were always going to be there for each other, even in their golden teenage years.
A/N: Hello there! This prompt has been floating around my head in different variations and so this is one of them in words. Didn't get to edit this very thoroughly so apologies if there are any mistakes and such. Just wanted to return and work with a Mockingbird the way it was, with all of my favorite characters the way they were (or should be). And who knows? This could possibly lead to more? For now, it's gonna just remain a one shot. Thanks so very much for reading and please do leave a review!