Kitty, Logan and Peter, Betsy and Warren, Bobby, Ororo and Emma, Stevie and Reed Richards are all trademarks of Marvel Comics. Illya, Mischa and Mrs. Thompson I invented for plot purposes, but I feel no particular proprietary interest in them. This story is an unauthorized work done purely for my personal enjoyment, not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or profits from these characters. But this story itself is copyright to me.
NOTE:
This story is not part of my main 'Idylls of the Cat' series but is one of the 'Dark Idylls' alternates, instead. This could be Kitty in the mainstream Marvel universe's future, in some other alternate future, or even in the real world.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
I would like to thank Jeffrey, Suzie, Tina, Denise, DuAnn and the Apprentice for their encouraging responses, and Carolyn Vaughan's story "Losing Your Muse" for starting me wondering what if Peter's artistic success weren't as guaranteed as usually assumed.
If you'd like to comment, send email to LubaKmetyk@worldnet.att.net
Alt-Kitty Pryde: SHEOL
Luba Kmetyk
Logan! I'm so glad to see you, it's been so long, I've missed you... No, I wasn't surprised when you called yesterday. You've always been great about remembering my birthday, and our annual lunch out is one of the high points of my year...
This might be a bit harder to arrange next year, though. So let's make the most of our time together...
Oh, because Peter wants us to move. He wants to sell our home here in the city, and buy a farm somewhere. He says he can't paint in the distraction of the big city, he needs to get back to nature to recover his art...
Yes, he's still having a lot of trouble. He tries, he really does -- he spends almost every minute in his studio, we're hip-deep in near-done and in-progress and just-started canvasses all the time -- but he's still struggling to find the right style and technique, that works best for him, that will let him bring his visions and dreams to full, glorious life. He gets so frustrated sometimes, he says what he sees in his head is so much better than what he gets out onto paper...
Yeah, he knows all my friends are here, and all the boys' friends... and my work. But he says moving to the country wouldn't be just for him, it would be a good move for me and the boys too...
He says he doesn't want the boys going to school here in the city, and getting into trouble, with all the gangs and other riff-raff they'd be rubbing shoulders with. I told him there were lots of good private schools in the city. I've been getting information from the twins' Montessori school and checking out possibilities for a couple of months now. But he says that would be too expensive, just more time I'd have to spend working instead of taking care of our family, that I should be spending more time with the boys, that I could if we lived out in the country where things are cheaper...
Logan, he doesn't know what *anything* costs! He doesn't know what groceries cost, or clothes, or utilities, or taxes, or anything. He says money doesn't really matter, he doesn't really need much. And he *is* comfortable wearing old jeans and shirts, he's not into expensive Awrmani suits or handmade leather shoes. He doesn't insist on gourmet food, or going out to fancy restaurants -- he doesn't like going out, actually -- but do you have any idea how much a big man like him eats? And the boys are bottonless pits, and sometimes I feel like they outgrow their clothes -- or shred them -- almost every time I turn around...
Yeah, sure, we don't have to pay rent, since I bought the building. Our only housing expenses now are taxes and utilities -- except for me fixing up the boys' room, of course -- ever since I had the upper stories redone into our apartment and Peter's studio. But the gallery we turned the ground floor into is just a bottomless pit when it comes to money. He keeps throwing these elaborate parties as part of showing his work -- to get people to come, critics and other artists and potential customers -- but, every time I work on the books, it's obvious a whole lot more is going out than coming in. Peter doesn't like to take space away from his own work to showcase other artists -- and he'd have to pay the better ones, of course, to get them to display their work in a struggling, little-known gallery anyway -- but his own art hasn't taken off yet...
Betsy's tried to help, you know? She's bought some pictures, and she keeps dragging in all sorts of friends, and business acquaintances of Warren's. And Bobby's brought in some customers, too, would you believe it? Mostly corporate clients looking to acquire some contemporary art for their headquarters as a tax shelter, or to commision a portrait to commemorate the elevation of a new chairman of the board... Peter sneers at them as philistines, but I keep trying to tell him, it's a start, a way to get his foot in the door... maybe somebody will see his work, somebody connected with a museum or one of the better known galleries, a journalist or something, and that'll finally get him the success he's so sure he deserves...
The only picture everybody ever wants is that one he did years and years ago of his little sister Illyana. Remember it, Logan? It was his only painting I managed to save and hide when he was burning all his others right after her funeral... I used to keep it in my study, but he took it a few years ago to hang in the gallery's window. It brings the people in, sure, but he won't sell it, and they never seem as interested in his other, more recent work...
It's not just the gallery, of course. Peter always insists on the best paints and brushes and canvas and easels, he says using cheaper tools would hurt his work. And paying off his models gets expensive...
No, I don't model for him. I used to, but he says I'm too plain, too sedate, too ordinary... that I don't inspire him... that he needs more lush, more exotic models to fully showcase his talent...
Oh, come on, Logan, you know he's right. I'm not exactly the Mona Lisa -- or even Miss August Centerfold. I'm the original plain Jane in a brown paper wrapper. Everybody else I know gets fatter after a baby -- gets bigger breasts and hips -- but I actually lost weight after the boys were born, even before I started working out again at the dojo...
Yeah, I *know* it was a hard pregnacy, Logan. I was there the whole time, remember? I guess I just wasn't built to carry twins easily...
Anyway, with Peter's movie-star looks and that incredible body of his, he usually has a *very* long line of willing and eager volunteers... Oh, yes, of course he sleeps with them. He says it doesn't have anything to do with me -- all great artist have to know their subjects intimately, in order to paint them properly -- so I shouldn't take it *personally*...
Don't be an idiot. Of course it hurts. I'm only human, after all.
Did you know that I'm paying child support to one of his models? I think he's given a couple of the others money for abortions, from some discrepancies in the gallery accounts, but one decided to go ahead and have her baby and sue him for support. Peter denied it was his, of course, and he wanted to fight it to the death in court, but, when the paternity test came back positive, I managed to get her to settle -- mostly because her lawyer wasn't so sure he could get at *my* assets, which is all there is. So I'll be paying for her boy's schooling, but she agreed that my sons will get to know their brother -- although I'm not sure when the right time will be, or how we'll ever explain to the boys. All I *am* sure of, is that this *isn't* the right time yet...
That's another reason I don't want to move to some small town out in the boonies, you know. People are reasonably cosmopolitan about such things here in the city -- especially down in SoHo, and the Village -- but Peter's rather peculiar notions of artist's morality could turn into a *much* bigger problem in other -- more rural, more conservative -- surroundings...
No, I haven't ever really thought of leaving him, or kicking him out. I have to think of the boys, Logan. I still remember how much my parents' divorce hurt me -- I still can't help feeling like it was all my fault, somehow -- and I don't want my children to ever feel that, or grow up without both their parents. I can keep it together until they're old enough to understand, I know I can...
At least, the way things are now, I'm pretty sure I don't have to worry about any younger siblings coming along.
Besides, if I tried to divorce him, he might try to take the boys. After all, he's the one who wanted children in the first place. I wanted to wait a while, until I was older, until my business was established, until Peter had gotten the artistic success and recognition he wants so desperately, when I thought there'd be less pressure on us and we could both concentrate on children... But he wanted a family so badly, with his own sister and brother and his parents all gone, that I eventually gave in. And now, of course, I wouldn't trade Illya and Misha away for anything...
The boys? They're just fine, growing like weeds and looking forward to starting 'real' school soon. They're spending the afternoon with one of the neighbors, she has a boy of her own just a year older. She's their regular sitter, so they're used to staying with her. Mrs. Thompson is a stay-at-home mom, so she's almost always available to take them on just a few minutes' notice if I need to go somewhere...
No, I really don't like to leave Peter minding the boys for too long. He just dumps them in front of the tv and orders them to stay quiet, and out of his way. You know I don't let them watch just anything, Logan -- there's so much crap on, it's really disgusting. There's a couple of the better kids' shows I let them watch, an hour or at most two a day, and that's it -- the rest of the time they're supposed to play, or study, or do chores, or read. But Peter just turns the tv on and lets them watch whatever they want, for hours and hours and hours, as long as they stay quiet...
See, the thing is, he hates being interrupted while he's trying to paint, so he's not very patient with the boys. And he's having enough trouble with his painting, he doesn't need more stress and distraction. You know how boys are, Logan -- the twins love each other, they really do, but they do fight an awful lot... and even when they're not fighting, just playing, a pair of five-year-olds can be pretty loud and rowdy. Peter can usually scare them into behaving, at least for a little while, but I don't *like* that, Logan -- I don't think it's healthy -- and they usually just cut up worse later, when they're with me, letting off steam. And then he gets upset about that, he says I can't control them because I'm not giving them enough of my time and attention...
Actually, they do spend a lot of time with me while I'm working. That's one of the best things about my work, I can do so much of it from home. They're really very good boys, you know. We've got a large corner of my home office that's a play area, and they're usually pretty quiet and well behaved. We have a deal, see -- every day, the boys and I sit down and negotiate work times and play times. They let me work in peace and quiet for an hour or two, whatever we agreed, then I have to take a break and we play together. If I'm coding something really tricky I just tell them and they try to play quieter, but I try not to insist on that too much. The rest of the time I've learned to just tune out their usual ruckus as normal background noise. And, if I have some urgent project, they agree to give me more uninterrupted work time, but then I owe them an outing or some other special treat to make up for the lost time we didn't spend together. They learned to tell time *very* quickly, and they're probably going to grow up to be diplomats or accountants...
No, there's no sign yet that either of them inherited my... gift with computers and such -- or their father's talent either. They're smart and quick, and they like computer games and surfing the web, but there's no hint of any exceptional intelligence. They're doing really well with reading and such, but nothing like I was at their age...
I don't know, Logan. I appreciate my brain, of course -- that's what lets me make a good living for my family, after all -- but maybe it's better if they have a more normal life, go through schoolwork at a more typical speed, relate to their friends on a more equal level...
The job's still wonderful. You know, I worried a lot about going to work for Frost Enterprises instead of staying freelance. But Peter really hated all the time I had to travel to drum up new business and, after the boys came, I wanted to stay home as much as possible myself. Emma's been really appreciative of good work, and quite generous about paying for it. And she has so many assorted businesses and subsidiaries that I have all the work I want, a whole variety of interesting problems I can work on from home...
No, I like the involvement in real-world problems. I was never a pure-math or pure-science type, no matter what my professors expected. Besides, no university job could possibly pay enough for our home *and* Peter's gallery and the boys' schooling -- although I do still get the occasional feeler from Reed Richards...
I mostly went with Frost Enterprises because I thought Emma might understand what it's like for a woman to try to succeed in business while juggling family commitments. And I was right, it's worked out great. Emma's people take care of the legal and financial and other background stuff, so all I have to do is to solve the actual technical problems, most of which I can do from home...
Yeah, I do miss travelling sometimes. I don't miss the hours and hours of just sitting and waiting, or the screwed-up connections and reservations, but I do miss seeing new places. I didn't like having to sell myself and my skills, but I did enjoy meeting so many new people. I tried to keep it up at first, even when Peter complained, but I just gave it up once I was pregnant... and then, after the babies were born, of course, I didn't want to spend that much time away from them, be that far away from them...
Oh, no, Emma's not who I meant, when I said Betsy brought potential customers by the gallery. Emma's never bought any of Peter's pictures -- although she has come to showings, once or twice, when I asked her to as a personal favor... She says she'll buy a picture as soon as he paints one she wants, but she won't tell him what that might be. She told me, once, the only picture she'd ever considered buying was that old painting of Illyana. She knew he wouldn't sell it, but she said that she'd buy another as soon as he did one as good -- no matter what the subject, or technique, or price. But she didn't think any of his current work came anywhere close...
Peter suggested once she commission him to paint her -- that way, even if she didn't appreciate fine art, she could at least make up for all of my time she was taking. Emma just raised one eyebrow in that icily haughty way only she can manage, and told him that he should sell his pictures based on his own talents and skills, not on mine. He was absolutely *furious*, Logan -- I don't know when I've seen him so angry. He told Emma it was easy for me, I was a certified genius -- whatever I did, it might have been hard for other people, but not for me. Emma just looked down her nose at him and told him she'd heard he considered himself a genius too, an artistic genius, so the same should be true for him. And I told you already how hard he works at his painting, how he agonizes over every canvas, struggles with every brushstroke...
Ororo came to visit again, you know, just last week. And, just like always, she and Peter started ganging up on me, telling me I should work less and make time in my crowded schedule to take the boys out to play in the park -- so Peter can come along, and paint the passers-by undisturbed -- like Ororo does, whenever she comes by, and how I'm going to *ruin* my family's health if I keep insisting on feeding them microwave meals and other fast food instead of making time to always prepare them healthy home-made meals with all-organic ingredients, like Ororo does whenever she comes by, instead of using that time to indulge myself at the dojo...
Yes, I still go to the dojo -- yes, the one you recommended. I try to work out there for an hour each Tuesday and Thursday and Sunday, and I go over to this dance studio Stevie recommended Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays. I put those sessions on my calendar just like my consulting work deadlines or the boys' soccer games, and I try hard not to miss. It doesn't cut into Peter's work hours, since Mrs. Thompson keeps the boys. He says I should spend that time with the boys instead, but I *need* the break, Logan, the change in routine. Except for other parents at games and school and such, and the few people I actually meet in person through my work -- which is very few, as long as I mostly telecommute -- it's the only time I get to socialize, to recharge my batteries. And I don't see Peter giving up any of his precious studio sessions to spend more quality time with the boys...
No, of course I don't want him to quit painting. I want him to paint -- it's his whole life, his whole identity... And besides, what else could he do? I want him to succeed, to have everybody recognize how talented he is... It's just... sometimes I just wish his damn painting didn't always have to take precedence over *everything* else. I just wish that, sometimes, he'd help me a bit more with the everyday stuff. I wish we could go out for the evening, just the two of us, to dinner or to the ballet. I wish he'd take an afternoon off, so the two of us could take the boys out to a movie or a ball game. But he says he might get inspired at any moment, and it would take too long for him to get back to his studio, and he doesn't want to risk that...
I try so hard to be understanding, to be supportive and encouraging, I really do... I don't know how I could be more so. But whatever I do -- whatever I give up, whatever I give in on -- it's just never enough, he always needs something *more*... like his latest idea, to buy a farm somewhere, and move out to live in the country...
Don't worry -- if we *do* move, *I'm* going to pick where. After all, I'll be paying for everything, which means Peter can't do a thing without my signature. And, no matter what he thinks, I have absolutely *no* intention of letting him plop us down in the middle of nowhere, someplace without first class schools and proper modern communications available... and at least one pretty liberal reform synagogue nearby...
Whether their father likes it or not, the boys *are* Jewish, Logan. See, all it takes is a Jewish mother... And I may not make a big deal out of it most of the time, but I'll never turn my back on my family and my heritage. My parents weren't obviously practicing Jews, but they made sure I knew my roots... And I'm going to do the same for my children. They're going to know their history, and the customs and rituals -- and then they can decide for themselves when they're older what they want to keep and what they want to discard, from knowledge, not from ignorance...
You know, it's funny. Peter's an atheist, but he was always quite willing to do Hannukah... as long as it was just for me. But now, when I try to make it a family thing, he fights me the whole way. He says that it's the twenty-first century, that just because I was brought up believing in a mass of superstitious nonsense doesn't mean our sons have to be too, that they should grow up in a modern environment... which I assume means whatever he believes -- or doesn't...
No, we never talked about it. I always knew that my children would be Jewish too. And I guess Peter always thought of my religion as 'mine' -- as something personal, that affected only me. But it doesn't matter what he thought, or why... there's really nothing to discuss, or decide. Like I said, it's hereditary, passed down through the mother -- not like baptism or christening. So it doesn't matter what Peter thinks or wants, the boys are Jewish. They can decide to ignore that when they're older -- that'll be up to them -- but Peter can't decide that for them...
Yeah, we should have talked about that ahead of time. There's a whole lot of stuff we should have talked about ahead of time.
That's why I'm trying to make sure we talk out this latest idea of Peter's, about moving out to a farm. I want us to talk about all the ramifications first, but he wants to just do it. And I'm afraid I'll come home one day from shopping, or from the dojo -- or from this lunch with you -- and he'll have packed up the boys and gone off to live on a farm somewhere, maybe just leaving a note behind... like he just upped and took off right after Illyana's funeral, you can't tell me you think that was a sane, reasoned-out decision...
No, he can't just take all the money and go, Emma's lawyers helped me make sure of that. But there's always money in the gallery accounts -- I have to leave him some there for operating expenses, and I try hard not to meddle with that too much, to leave him some independence, some self-respect. And I know that, if it ever came down to it, the courts would order him to give me the boys. We may both want them, but I'm their mother, I'm the bread-winner, I work at home to be able to spend time with them... Nobody could argue I'm an unfit parent, but Peter's behavior doesn't speak as well for him...
But that's here. What if he decides to take the boys, and go back to Russia? Even if I could find them, track them down... You've seen the news stories, Logan. There was another one just a few weeks ago, about a Canadian doctor who'd been granted full custody of his son, so his wife -- who was Ukrainian, born over there -- took the boy and ran. And they think she's somewhere over there now, but the Ukrainian government is refusing to honor the Canadian court judgement and has granted *her* full custody. I don't want anything like that happening to our family...
But I'm afraid he just might do it some day -- on a whim, or if he's feeling more frustrated than usual, or if I don't give in to him on this farm idea, or on whatever other damnfool notion he comes up with next...
And I'm so tired of being afraid, Logan... I'm tired of everything -- of working so hard, of trying to get along, of fighting, of giving in, of hiding my feelings, of being afraid... I'm just so bloody damned tired...