A/N: This'll be a two-part story.
Teddy Ben
That's When Your Heartache Begins
Amy Juergens descended the stairs of her childhood home, stepping closer and closer to something else from her childhood: the wild slamming of fingers into a piano. But her parents had never had a piano when she was growing up. She crinkled her nose, her mind racing to place the sound. It right on the tip of her memory, burning like a red coal to be recognized. As the sole of her shoe touched the last step, she heard a deep, pleasantly earthquaking voice.
"Ooooh baby let me beeeee!" the voice drawled out, "Your lovin teddy bear! Put a chain around my neck and take me annnnnnnywherrrrrrrrre!"
Amy placed her hand to her mouth, stopping in the entrance to the living room. She saw her father, adorned in a thickly knitted raven haired wig and a flashy white faux leather suit, studded with silver chunks. The bell bottoms were flapping around his ankles as he jumped around the room, clenching tightly to a bejeweled microphone and throwing his body against the sounds of the music. Behind him, on the television set, the screen was blue, with white letters appearing in time with George's voice.
At the piercing sound of John and Robie's laughter, Amy was finally forced to expel a giggle herself. The boys were too caught up in their grandfather and father respectively to notice, as was George himself, but the teenager saw the third head on the couch turn in her direction, which she realized belonged to her next door neighbor, Ruben Enriquez. She pinched her lips together to keep from interrupting them again and waved shyly to Ruben, who threw a courteous wave back.
"I don't wanna be your tiger!" George shouted, grabbing a tiger stuffed animal from Robie's playpen and thrusting it at his son with a throaty growl, which Robie wrapped his arms around and squealed senselessly at. "'Cause tigers play too rough!" He whirled around so fast, his Elvis wig flew off his head and landed in a heap across the room, prompting Moose to jump up and howl in time with George's voice. "I don't wanna be your lion!" he snapped his fingers at Moose, then pointed towards a small picnic style blanket on the floor covered in toys. Obediently, the Golden Retriever trotted over and snapped up a pale yellow stuffed lion with a cartoony grin in his jaws and dropped it at George's dancing feet. George gave Moose a gentle scrub under the chin, then grabbed the toy and tossed it to his grandson, who promptly threw it back at him. George grinned and swiveled his head. "'Cause lions ain't the kind you…love enouuuuuuuuuugh!"
Amy dropped against the frame of the living room entry way and smiled, her mind flitting through a slideshow of her father's Karaoke Nights with her, Ashley, and their mother as a child. Occasionally even with Mimsy and Grandpa Robert. Her father had always been partial to the Elvis songs and Mimsy loved to egg him on, given that she had been a huge Elvis Presley fan back in the day. She had even loved to brag that Elvis once came down off stage when she'd went up to one of his shows at Lake Tahoe and given her a kiss, after which, George made a point to end Family Karaoke Night by giving Mimsy a kiss in his full Elvis getup.
"I wanna beeeee!" George hummed, his voice mumbled and nearly indiscernible; more of a sensual groan than anything. "Yourrrrrr teddy bear!" He spun around the room like an albino colored whirlwind and ended up behind Amy. "Put a chain around my neck," he sang, dropping what looked like purple Mardi Gras beads over her head, "and lead me annnnnnywhere!" He looped his finger through the beads and tugged her up to the television, despite her verbal and visual protest. "Oh let me be!" He waved his hand towards the couch.
"Oh let him be!" Ruben chorused, along with John who tried to say the same, but ended up just yelling, "Let beeee!" And for Robie's part, the little blonde boy who babbled something, while clapping his stubby hands together and drooling on his stuffed tiger. Moose bounded up beside Ruben's side of the couch and barked as loud as he could.
"Your teddy bear!" He scooped his daughter up and spun her around.
Amy shrieked and felt the blood rush from her head to her cheeks before George set her down. Her hair was in a flying mess around her face and she felt like Cousin It, but when she heard the shrieking hoots from her son and baby brother, the embarrassment melted away. Mostly. Ruben was still there, after all. When she finally pushed her hair out of the way with her palm, she noticed her dad had his arm behind his back and she smirked, knowing what was coming.
"I just wanna be your teeeeeeeeddy beeeear!" He drew his arm out, producing John's favorite teddy bear like a magician would produce a rose and she couldn't hold it back any longer: Amy burst into hysterics, laughing so hard she thought her stomach might burst at the seams. She snatched up John's teddy from her dad and gave it a powerful a powerful squeeze, then she threw her arms around her father and hugged him fiercely, burying her still laughing face into his uncomfortably studded suit.
Applause, woots, and sheer cries of exhilaration came from the couch, accompanied by the thudding of Moose's tail against the floor. Ruben reached over to scrub the dog behind the ears, to which Moose began to thump his tail that much harder, while also emitting a low howling noise of approval.
George wrapped his arms around his eldest's shoulders and pulled her into his side, then gave his best lip curl and replied breathlessly, "Thank you…thank you very much!"
Amy elbowed his dad playfully, still laughing, on the edge of coughing she was laughing so hard. She held the bear to her stomach for support and looked up at her father, noticing sweat beads on his forehead. She smiled and inhaled deeply, forcing as much composure as she could muster. "Anyone up for something to drink?"
Ruben shot up from his seat. "I'll help you-"
Amy waved her hand dismissively. "I've got it," she assured him. "I'll be right back."
"Besides!" George crooned. "You're up next!"
Amy slipped into the kitchen, leaving behind the sounds of Ruben's protests. She dropped the bear onto the table and began to poke around in the refrigerator. Given that she and John weren't living there anymore, Ashley was in Florida, and her mother usually had Robie, it was unsurprising to find that only a thin pool of milk covered the bottom of the milk gallon and a few cans of beer were scattered in the side of the door, amongst some ketchup and mustard bottles. She frowned and shut the door with her hip, then meandered towards the cupboards, which she predictably found bare except for a half eaten loaf of bread, a week past the expiration date, and a half used bag of C&H sugar.
Amy strummed her fingers along the countertop, then gave a quick look over her shoulder before clamoring onto the countertop like she used to do when she was younger so she could reach all the way up to the top cupboards. Amy pawed around, producing nothing. Then, just when she thought she'd have to take everyone back water, her fingertips brushed against something in the far reaches of the cupboard. She pushed a little further, but her fingers were slipping against the smooth surface, so she pulled her hand out and breathed across her fingertips, then reinserted them into the cupboard and managed to lull out whatever she had found.
"Kool-Aid," she mused. "Haven't had that in a while." Amy had no idea how long it had been there, but it was her favorite, Blue Raspberry, so she got to work, grabbing the pitcher from one of the cupboards beside the oven and pulled out the half pound bag of sugar. She poured in a measured cup, as per the directions, then with a little smirk, added a second – unmeasured – cup. "Screw healthy," she grinned. "Just for tonight."
Swiftly, Amy stirred the blue powder and sugar together, then dipped the pitcher into the sink and turned on the cold water until it reached just an inch below the top of the pitcher and stirred it until the sugar was no longer swirling at the bottom of the container. Using the oversized metal spoon she'd stirred it with, she took a quick taste, and grinning, she abandon the spoon and filled up two glasses and half filled two sippy cups. With a glass in each hand and the sippy cups tucked between her arm and her chest, she carried them out to the living room and passed them out.
Ruben took a sip and frowned. "A little sweet, isn't it?"
Amy played dumb. "Seemed fine to-"
"Ames has been adding a second cup since she was a toddler," George interjected. "Just go with it. But what I would advise you on is her spaghetti-"
"Dad!"
John giggled and shook his sippy cup at his mother. "Moaw!"
Amy frowned and wagged her finger. "No, John. You have to go to sleep tonight and Mama has a test to study for in the morning."
"C'mon, Ames!" George whined. "The only thing sugar really does is put kids to sleep anyway."
"Yeah, after it revs them up for hours." Amy put her hands on her hips.
"Okay," he relented. "Fine…then…then what about letting him stay over tonight? Huh?"
Amy crossed her arms. "Dad-"
"C'mon!" he begged, setting his glass on top of the television set and pressing his palms together, ready to kneel down as if he were praying. "We were having so much fun!"
Amy surveyed the group: her dad, Ruben, John, Robie, and Moose. "A regular Boy's Night In, huh?"
In response, Moose barked and thudded his nail against Ruben's leg.
"Pleeeeeeeease, Ames?" George begged, making his eyes impossibly larger.
Amy groaned and then threw her hands into the air. "Fine! Fine," she sighed. "But only because I can see how much fun you're all having and…because I really need to ace that test."
George grabbed Amy by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Great!" he beamed. "You just go –" he hesitated, almost saying home, then thought better of it "–study hard and bring home an A. You don't have to worry about John at all! In fact, you could even leave him here all weekend if-"
"Dad," she frowned.
"Okay, okay," he sighed. "Fine. Just tonight and until you get off work tomorrow." He gave her a gentle hug.
Amy nodded and yawned, only just now aware of how tired she was. "I'm gonna grab the clothes from the dryer and then head off then. See you tomorrow!" She quickly moved to the couch and gave Robie a kiss on the forehead, then scooped up her son and smothered him with kisses and a hug. "You be good for Grandpa, you hear?"
"Good!" John echoed, hugging his little arms around Amy's neck.
"I love you, John."
"Love Mama!" John cooed, his brown eyes gleaming like butter soaked brown sugar.
Amy set him back onto the couch, lingering a moment before moving away. She gave Moose a good natured scrub under the chin, then waved light heartedly to Ruben before running back into the kitchen and pouring herself a tall glass of blue Kool-Aid. She drank it up, hoping it would give her energy for the drive home, then ducked into the laundry room and shoved all the now cold clothes from the dryer into her laundry basket. She had no desire to fold them tonight and was not about to run the fluff cycle; she'd just deal with the wrinkles.
Five minutes later, Amy padded up to the front door with her backpack on one shoulder and laptop bag on the other. As she reached down to grab the laundry basket, George bounded up beside her and grabbed it instead. "Thanks, Dad," she smiled gratefully.
"Are you sure you don't wanna spend the night too?" he asked hopefully.
"All my stuff's at home," she yawned, internally wincing at the look on her dad's face. She knew he hated it when she called Ricky's apartment her home. "Anyway," she said, shaking her head. "I have to get back home and see if the plumber came and fixed the backup we were having in the sink. I thought Ricky would've called and I tried to call him, but all I got was his voicemail." She shrugged as they reached her van and she unlocked it, allowing George to lean in and set her clothes on the floor. "So I'll see you tomorrow."
Amy dropped her laptop onto the laundry pile and her backpack beside it, then kissed her father's cheek. "Don't stay up too late!" With a slam, the back door to her van shut and she rounded the vehicle to the passenger's side and climbed inside. As she turned on the car, she saw George slink back to the front door and wave to her as her headlights burned to life and she waved back, then pulled out and headed for Boykewich Butchers.
In reality, the drive wasn't that long, but it seemed to take forever. By the time she was parked, she hadn't the strength nor patience to make two trips to lug everything upstairs, so she just took her school supplies. She was surprised to see that Ricky's car wasn't in the parking lot, where it usually was. Not thinking much of it, she disarmed the alarm system, slipped inside, and rearmed it before she went up to the miniature apartment. Barely keeping her eyes open, Amy managed to jam her key into the lock and slip inside.
Despite what she'd intended, there would be no more studying tonight. With another yawn, she locked the door and stumbled into the kitchen, hoping to see a sparkling sink. To her disgust, it was still full of chunky brown water, with a cottage cheese like film across the top. Her stomach lurched as the smell wove into her nostrils and she turned away. "So much for the plumber," she groaned. On her way back to the living room, she noticed a small piece of paper on the table, with Ricky's handwriting. Picking it up she saw that it read: Ran to the store for milk. Be back soon.
Amy smiled slightly and dropped the note back onto the table, then collapsed onto the pullout sofa. As she rolled onto her side, she felt something hard jab her in the side. With a grunt, Amy sat back up and reached for the offending object: Ricky's phone. "No wonder I haven't been able to get ahold of you all day." As she moved to set it on the table, she noticed it blinked, then flipped it open to find the words: 1 New Message.
Her eyes wandered towards the kitchen. "From the plumber?" she wondered aloud. Her thumb hovered to press the number one to call Ricky's voicemail, then hesitated, questioning if that was an invasion of Ricky's privacy. She rolled her eyes then. "It's not like I'm snooping," she resolved. "And it's not like he's…got anything to hide." Hesitation forgotten, Amy pressed the button and the phone began to ring in her ear, until a mechanical voice picked up.
"You have: One. New. Message. Received: today, at five-thirty-five P.M."
Amy tried to remember whether or not the plumber had said his office was open until five or six. But then a familiar voice, Margaret's, filled her ear. Not the plumber after all. With an annoyed sigh, she opted to save the message and was about to close the phone when she heard the metallic monotone speak again.
"Message saved. You have: One. Saved. Message."
Amy mulled over the idea. On one hand, it might be a bigger invasion of his privacy. On the other, he had been home, as per his note, so the message could still have been from the plumber. Risking it, she pressed the button to play the message.
"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…and, I know you've been thinking about me. Goodnight, Ricky."
Adrian's voice! Amy's mouth went dry and her heart ceased to beat. She could barely see, barely breathe. A message like that, from Adrian? Saved on Ricky's phone? Her hand clenched around the phone. With shivering hands, she pressed the number four button, to find out when the message had been sent. As she heard the monotone voice say the date, her eyes glazed over as she counted back the weeks in her head: it was the same day that Adrian had informed her she had called Ricky. The same day Ricky had swore he erased the message, without even listening to it!
Unadulterated rage bristled from her fingertips. She cast the phone across the room, where it smacked into a vase she'd set up last week when Ricky had brought flowers home to her. The vase reeled on its edge as the phone bounced off and smacked to the ground, sending the battery pack flying off of it. A second later, the vase toppled too, shattering crystal shards, water, and flower bits into a sloppy mess on the ground. Amy grabbed a pillow from the couch and buried her face into it, screaming through her tears.