The house at the end of the street had gotten busier over the years, Carmilla noticed.
Laura was in her study, proofreading another article for the local newspaper. Because she had been working at the office as an apprentice while splitting her time to take classes, they didn't hesitate to hire her the moment she got her diploma. At first she was just given a minor column then she started handing in real pieces and now she had been bumped up to assistant editor and the editor-in-chief no longer gave a second thought about a piece as long as she was the one who proofread it. Down the hall from Laura's study, Emma was in her room, doing her homework days before it was due, which reminded Carmilla just how much she had grown to be like Laura.
The house at the end of the street had also gotten cosier.
Carmilla lifted her eyes from the book she was reading and stared off into the backyard. There were two bikes leaning on the fence – one was Laura's and the other was Emma's. She could vaguely remember when Emma traded in her three-wheeled scooter for it.
Was it when she turned 7 and started going to indoor soccer practice?
Was it around the time she turned 8 and started making her own hot cocoa?
That was also the year of the bouncy-house party. Carmilla was initially against the whole thing since it involved children, their parents, a lot of noise and just people in general. Laura promised it wouldn't be too big a party since they didn't know a lot of people at the time and Emma only wanted a few friends over.
"She's not buddies with the whole school, Carm. Unlike someone I know," Laura scoffed, obviously pertaining to Carmilla's 'study buddies' back in Silas.
"It's not my fault I was such a popular girl," Carmilla proudly replied with a hand on her hip. "And it's not like you weren't hooking up with your TA, too, creampuff."
"Who? Danny? I was not!"
That argument ended with Laura inviting a few more people from the office, much to Carmilla's dismay. Emma, on the other hand, was ecstatic that she received twice the number of gifts than she expected. One of the bouncy-houses caught fire that day, though, and Carmilla still denied her involvement to this day.
When Emma turned 10, she started bringing her friends over more often for slumber parties and group projects. During this time, Carmilla often disappeared into the backyard and took naps on the makeshift hammock she and Laura put up. She only got up when Emma came to get her.
"Em, are you sure your mom's okay? She seems really pale."
Carmilla perked up an ear at the sound of a slightly familiar voice. She couldn't put a face to it but it was definitely one of Emma's friends.
"Carm's fine. She just has really sensitive skin," went Emma's voice in reply. Carmilla felt a hand on her shoulder. "Carm, wake up. Can you take us to the store? We ran out of paint."
"Did you check in our room? I think I have some," Carmilla replied in a slur, shielding her eyes from the bit of sunlight peeking through the awning.
"But you told me not to go in there. You said it's private," Emma said, adding the air quotes.
"Just go…" went Carmilla's lazy reply as she rolled on her side to face away from them.
They still ended up going to the store that day and the moment Laura got home they all had to have a little talk.
"Emma, sweetie, about what you saw in our room—"
"Carm said it's for massages, mom. I get it. Can I please just go back to my friends now?" Emma bounced a leg up and down while she sat on the edge of the couch.
"I told you she's a smart little monkey," Carmilla told Laura, trying to keep herself from laughing.
"You don't get to talk," went Laura's swift retort, obviously stressing out over how to explain the situation to her daughter. "I'll deal with you later," she added in an angry whisper.
"Can't wait," went Carmilla's suggestive reply. "Plus, that bunched up little face you're making when you're angry is hilarious, buttercup."
"Guys… if you want, I can leave the room so you can make kissy-kissy faces at each other already," Emma spoke up from the couch, making her impatience felt.
Laura heaved out a sigh. She let Emma go back to her friends upstairs then grabbed a cookie from the jar in the kitchen. Carmilla followed suit.
"Look, she's not old enough to care about things like that. You saw how she bought my explanation, right? It's just for massages." Carmilla placed her hands on Laura's shoulders and pressed her thumbs hard against her joints. "Much like what you need right now, cutie."
Laura was still tense under Carmilla's hands. She let out another sigh. "We can't be sure that she actually believes what you said. Why was that thing lying around in plain sight in the first place? Oh gods… What if her friends tell their parents? They'll think we're bad parents! Oh no, oh no, oh no…" Laura started pacing while pressing a palm against her forehead.
Carmilla watched Laura for a while, thinking to herself that maybe Laura was overreacting. "We're not bad parents. Heck, I'm not even Emma's parent." That seemed to get Laura's attention as she stopped pacing and turned to Carmilla with furrowed brows. "And you're not a bad mother, creampuff. I would know if you were. Child from a dysfunctional family here," she added, pointing to herself. Laura was still staring at her without a word and she knew that worried look. "Uh, never mind I said that. But you really shouldn't worry about the little monkey and her crew seeing the vibrator. It's not that big of a deal—"
"Carm… Of course you're Emma's parent," Laura interjected, putting the vibrator issue on hold.
"I'm pretty sure she doesn't see it that way, sweetheart. At most, I'm just the fun aunt. And that's fine, really—"
"No, it's not fine. You're just covering it up with your I-don't-care-I'm-a-badass-vampire attitude but you really are upset, aren't you? You can tell me, Carm. Come on, it's just me."
Carmilla's shoulders fell as a sigh escaped her. Laura wasn't going to let this one slide. "Okay, maybe I'm a little peeved that she calls me 'Carm.' You know you're the only one I allow to call me that, right? But she just outright claimed it!"
Laura responded with a slight smile. "You sure that's all you're worried about?"
And maybe I want to be called 'mom,' too. "Yes, creampuff. That's all I'm worried about."
"So what would you rather she call you then?"
"Oh, I dunno…" Carmilla leaned back on the counter and crossed her arms on her chest. "'Mistress' has a nice ring to it."
"Ugh! Seriously, Carm?"
Out went a laugh from Carmilla as she pushed herself off of the counter and reached out for Laura's hands. "Seriously? Stop worrying. You're not a bad mother. If those kids' parents start saying otherwise, I'll just have to break a few necks is all."
"You are going to do no such thing. This isn't Silas, Carm. And we're not nineteen anymore." A second of silence passed. Laura's hands slipped out of Carmilla's when she realized what she had just said. "Uh, I mean, I'm not nineteen anymore. Anyway, we should still have the talk with her. I'd rather it come from us than her hormonal classmates."
Carmilla rubbed the back of her neck, still unsure of how to react when Laura mentions the age thing. "Maybe I should leave you two to have the talk. It's more up the mother-daughter alley. Just tell me how it goes."
Carmilla left the kitchen before Laura could formulate a reply. She didn't mean to mention the age thing again. She just often forgot how much time had passed. Sure, she had changed. She had gotten older and would soon leave her twenties. She had a job now and she was paying for rent and her daughter's schooling. Emma's 11th birthday was just a few months away and she had, though accidentally, already come into contact with a sex toy and would now need to hear 'the talk.' A lot of things had changed. And so had Carmilla, she realized.
Carmilla might still look the same but Laura noticed her efforts to look older by the year – the shift from band tees to blouses and from ripped jeans to casual ones or even slacks on occasion. She hadn't fully gotten rid of the combat boots and the leather pants, but Laura didn't mind that last part. These little things were Carmilla's way of making her feel normal as if they really were growing old together. She smiled at the thought.