I do not own Grey's Anatomy… really, does anyone?
Japril: From A to Z
Chapter 12: Lessons Learned
"Harriet."
I can hear my mother calling me, even over the sounds of the music blasting through my headphones. It's not that I'm ignoring her, I would never do that. It's just that I'm trying to drown out the sounds of my annoying little brothers and sisters who don't seem to know the meaning of quiet time.
Mom has been running herself ragged all day and from the looks of it, she's about to blow. There isn't anything out of the ordinary going on today, it's just that she hasn't had any help all week, outside of me that is, and her nerves appear to be frayed.
My dad's been gone for over a week to Boston on foundation business, Grandma Catherine is away on a two-week European vacation with Grandpa Richard, and our nanny Mya, who usually has the weekends off anyway, couldn't help today because she had to go back home to Bellingham because of a family emergency. Sometimes, our Auntie Arizona or Auntie Maggie would come by for a few hours to keep mom company or offer help if she really needed it, but she said she was determined to do this on her own. I think she worries sometimes that she doesn't devote enough time to us and I can say that that isn't true in the slightest.
The five of us together at one time can be a handful and without my dad here to help, it gets a bit hectic. It's Sunday and while we'd typically go to church this morning, mom surprised us all with homemade waffles piled high with strawberries, syrup, whipped cream and even sprinkles on top. She then popped in the Incredibles 2 and that kept my siblings under control for a while. After that, she let us play in the backyard, made us lunch and then I read a book to the three youngest ones before they went down for their naps. She allowed us a treat of peanut butter cups once they got up, something she doesn't normally do, and right now, I'm sure she's thinking that wasn't the brightest idea if their reactions are any proof. It's been a hectic mess ever since.
Mom just got off the phone with Grandma Karen and I only need to look at her face to know the conversation didn't go well. Grammy K, who I love with my whole heart can sometimes be very judgmental of mom and while mom likes to avoid having grown up talks around me, unlike her, my dad believes we shouldn't be shielded from the realities of life, so I still hear a lot of what's going on. Grammy K often gets on her about trying to maintain her career as a busy trauma surgeon and mother to such a large brood. I have front row seats to many of their disputes as mom assures her that she has it all under control. Grammy K doesn't really approve of the fact we have a nanny and says that if mom really had it all under control, she'd be able to raise her kids on her own.
During one telephone call, I heard my dad say to mom to tell Grammy K to mind her own goddamn business.
I'm the oldest and by far the easiest child to deal with. I just turned nine, six months ago but my dad says that I'm more like a twenty-year-old trapped in a child's body. He doesn't mean it as an insult but says I don't behave or think like a normal nine-year-old. I've already skipped two years of elementary school and know words well beyond my sixth-grade education. I'm also very observant of things happening around me as I tend to listen more than the average person hears.
Mom calls me her little overachiever.
Dad calls me his little egghead.
Grandma Cat says I'm just showing off that Avery brain.
Uncle Alex just calls me a smartass.
My parents had me a year and a half after my mother failed her surgical boards and to say I was a surprise is a complete understatement. I never got the full story of my conception, I'm sure I never will, but I do know that my parents were married when my mother was four months pregnant and while a lot of people might think that they did it out of obligation, my parents said they knew they were in love and that I was the happiest accident that had ever happened to them. They said they knew I was a gifted child the moment I turned three and they noticed I seemed to not only pick up things faster than other kids my age, but I had an excellent memorization skills. I enjoyed solving puzzles, became a self-taught reader and writer and that I was remarkably alert, even as a baby.
My mom says I get my smarts from her. My dad thinks it comes from him. I choose to think it's a combination of the two. Otherwise, I'm a normal girl. I have lots of friends and enjoy having slumber parties. I attend gymnastics and dance class twice a week, same as my sisters. I love to read and am currently on the fourth book of the Harry Potter series. I love listening to K-Pop and hope to one day marry Bodie from the group TKO. Other than that, I don't cause my parents any trouble. I save that for my siblings, though my dad says I have been getting a bit sassy as of late. I love my mom and dad, I'm just growing up as Grandma Cat states and should be expected to rebel at some point.
My brother Jaden who was born next is six years old. He's the talkative one and can never seems to shut up, much to my irritation. Right now, he's running around the house with a towel fastened around his neck like a cape yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'm Batman," every five minutes as he either leaps from the couch in the family room or launches one of my sister's stuffed animals across the room at maximum velocity. Jaden is the spitting image of our dad, but his personality is more like my mom's. He's inquisitive, very sweet but some say a bit peculiar.
Mom says she finds it endearing that he's his own person.
Dad says he'll change his tune once he discovers girls.
Grandma Cat says that her grandbaby is perfect the way he is.
Uncle Alex says he's just like my mom. Weird.
Personally, I think he's great. He's big on superhero comics, anything having to do with computers and Legos. Outside of the home, he's withdrawn until he gets to know you, but after that, watch out.
Jaden and I are closest, but it's not because we're nearest in age. I get him, and he gets me. Everyone says it's because he's more like mom and I'm more like dad. I can be serious and I'm in my head a lot and Jaden's able to coax me out of my deep thoughts and make me laugh. Like our parents, we're opposites, but we have a tight bond. There's many a night when he'll come to my room and we'll build a fort from my bedsheets and pillows and read comics with our flashlights until mom catches us and orders us back to bed. I've very protective of him as well. We go to the same private school and some older boys tried to pick on him. Once. Jaden's anything but weak, but even he can't handle taking on four boys by himself. That's when I stepped in. My parents teach us that violence is never the answer and to use our words, but they also taught us to stick up for ourselves and each other. So, when I spotted them surrounding him, I was quick to rush over and shoulder to shoulder we stared them down. Avery's won't be intimidated and by our demeaner alone, they backed off, but I made if clear that if they ever bothered my brother again, they'd have to answer to me. I told them my Uncle Owen was in the Army and he showed me how to take down a man with just my pinky finger. Well, that's not quite true, but they didn't need to know that.
Next in line are Allette and Jordan. They're four years old identical twins and can be absolute nightmares.
When mom and dad first told us, they were having another baby and it was going to be twin girls, I was so excited. We'd outnumber the men in the house and I'd finally have someone to play dolls with.
That hope didn't last long.
Double Trouble, as I like to call them, have created their own universe. They are secretive, have created their own "twin language" and are very mischievous. They are very much daddy's girl's as all they have to do is bat their long lashes at him and they practically get away with murder. Well, that's how I feel about it anyway. Mom on the other hand doesn't put up with their nonsense due to them constantly having her at wits end. Even though they are two sides of the same coin, they tend to tussle a lot, much like what's going on right now. One minute, they'll be perfectly fine, playing on the swing set, splashing around in the pool or sitting in silence coloring together, then suddenly, boom! Fireworks. Mom learned early on that with them she needed to buy two of everything as they can't seem to grasp the concept of sharing. Currently, I can hear yelling at them over the song the song I have playing to stop pulling on each other's braids. It usually takes her a few tries before they settle down, but not much more than that. Mom doesn't' believe in spanking so she finds other ways to punish us. In the twin's case, simple threats of forcing them to move into separate bedrooms reels them in. Like I said, they're mischievous, but never outright disrespectful. I'm a mommy's girl, so I'm the one who ends up helping her with them when she needs a hand. They look up to me and while I don't play with them as much as I used too, I love those munchkins and if ever they need me, I'm there.
The last of my siblings is my baby brother, Micah, who's eighteen months old, cute as can be, but very, very attached to our mom. If he's not with Mya, he's usually clinging to mom. Dad told her that she needed to start letting him become more independent, but she always says that there's plenty of time before she needs to worry about that. I think it's because he's the last they plan to have. I'll sometimes see her watching him wistfully or sniffing his head, which is… strange. He's got about twenty words in his vocabulary, but not surprisingly to everyone, his first word was mama.
Sometimes I think Micah looks to me as a second mom. He never calls me that of course, but he is very close to me. Being that I'm the older, I was able to help mom more with Micah then I was with the others. I helped feed him, bathe him and change his diapers. I was even the one to teach him how to walk. Micah was taking a little longer than the rest of us and while mom was getting a little worried and feared that it was a medical issue, Auntie Arizona told her to remember that every child develops at their own pace.
I heard my parents arguing about him once. Well, maybe arguing isn't the right word. They like to say that they are having heated discussions. Anyway, dad got upset with mom because had been carrying Micah around too much in his estimation. She told him that he has a tendency to not look where he's going when his is running, which he does a lot of now and doesn't want him to get hurt. Dad told her that getting hurt was is a part of growing up and that she shouldn't baby him.
My thoughts are interrupted as mom bellows, "Harriet Kepner-Avery. Don't make me call you again."
This time, I take off my headphones and rush over to her. She directs me to set the table as dad should be arriving home in the next half hour and she likes to have dinner waiting for him after he's come home from a long business trip. She tries to make sure we eat dinner together as often as possible, but it's hard sometimes with all the responsibilities they have at the hospital. Except for maybe three times a week, Mya generally has us fed by the time they get home. But Sundays, Sundays are a must for mom. She says it's important for us to gather prior to the week ahead and catch up. Not that Micah or the twins have much to say, so it's mostly Jaden and I talking about school, activities and friends, while mom and dad give us the less graphic versions of surgeries they've performed and patients they've helped. Sundays are also a time of reflection, so after we've done praying and thanking God for all that we have been given, we all dig in to the delicious meal she's cooked, and the chatter begin. Often, I'll look over at her and see her eyes glisten. I imagine she's thinking ahead to a time when we're all older or even away at college and it makes her sad. That's when dad takes hold of her hand and places a gentle kiss on her palm.
After I've done setting the table, she charges me with helping Jaden, Allette and Jordan put away their toys from the family room. I promptly jump into big sister roll and hand out instructions on who should do what. Dad says when I'm in boss mode, I always remind him of Grandma Cat and smirks. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing yet but I do get a kick out of telling them what to do.
By the time everything's been put away, I hear daddy coming through the door that connects to the garage.
Allette and Jordan immediately rush him and tackle him around his legs. He's barely able to put his bags down before he scoops them both up, one in each arm.
"Daddy, you're home. Did you bring us anything?" they state hopefully in unison.
He gives them each a kiss on the cheek and instead asks, "How are my Demon Divas?" and they giggle like they always do.
"Jackson don't call them that," we hear mom yell out as she makes her way to him from the kitchen.
Dad places the twins back on the floor and give mom a quick but full kiss on the lips.
The sounds of "Ew," from my brother and little sisters convey my reaction exactly. Dad then picks Micah up from where he's resting on moms hips, holds him in his arms and kisses the top of his head.
"Hello, Jaden," he says to my other brother who has his eyes glued to his comic book that he managed to slip back out off the shelf.
"Hi, Daddy," he squeals and bounds over to him, hugging him tight, in sudden realization that he's home. Typical. When he's reading his comics, everything and everyone else in the world disappears.
When it's my turn to greet him, I already know what's coming.
"Hey, Hattie girl. You too big for a hug?"
"Maybe. I am practically a preteen you know," I say but can't hold back the laughter that follows.
It's a game we play where I like to pretend like I'm too old for him to treat me like I'm not his little baby girl anymore.
My mom thinks it's important for all of us to show each other affection and normally, I'm okay with it. Really it just depends on the mood I'm in. Sometimes I love it when he picks me up and hefts me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then there are other times when my whines of, "Dad, stop. You're embarrassing me," are enough to confuse him.
What can I say. I'm at a weird age.
Dad washes his hands as mom brings the food to the table and we all take our usual seats. Dad is at the head, mom to his left, Micah next to her in his high chair, Allette next to him and on the opposite side of the table it's Jaden, Jordan and then me at the end.
We never sit the twins next to each other when it's time to eat. My parents are smart enough to know that by the end of the meal either Jordan's hair will be full of mashed potatoes or Allette will have had juice accidentally spilled on her shirt. So, they just sit away from one other and discretely make faces or open their mouths and display bits of chewed up food until a threat from either mom or dad puts and end to those antics.
But as we make our way through mom's roast chicken and sides, I notice that something is off. Like I said, I'm observant and my parents are not acting like themselves.
Dad usually can't keep his hands-off mom. Like I said, they think it's important to show affection, especially in front of us kids. Oh, it's never anything vulgar, but he's always caressing her shoulders, or pecking her on the lips, hugging her around the waist from behind and sometimes, I'll even catch him patting her on the butt. As for mom, she likes to hold his hand or snuggle up next to him so that she's right under his chin. It makes me smile because she always looks so tiny next to him, but tonight, there are no touches or kisses and other then engaging us in conversation, they've barely said a word to each other.
I know I have nothing to worry about. My parents are gonna stay married forever. At least that's what they tell us, and they've never lied to me yet.
Okay, well that's not true. They did tell me there was a Santa Claus, but I figured it out by the time I was five and let me tell you, I wasn't happy.
Whatever is going on between them it must be pressing because this time they don't wait until they're alone to let it out.
"So, have you decided what you want to do?" mom says in a hushed tone.
Dad sighs like he's exasperated, "No, April. I haven't. I told you that this isn't a decision I can make on my own. I need your input. I won't let you make me the bad guy here."
"I'm not trying to make you the bad guy," she answers, her voice raising an octave.
My mom always sounds like a chipmunk when she's really upset. Once when she was mad at him about something, I overheard dad tell her that she was cute when she was angry, which only seemed to make her even angrier.
Right now, though, he's not kidding around.
"I just don't think it was fair for you to spring this on me at the last minute and I think you did it, so I wouldn't have any choice but to side with you. You're forcing my hand," she continued.
Dad looked over to her with that face he makes. The one where his eyes squint and chews on the inside of his cheek then says to mom through gritted teeth, "I really don't think we should be having this discussion in front of the children. Do you?"
If it's one thing mom really hates, it's to be admonished, so I knew it was only going to get worse from here on.
"Well, why not? This decision affects them to? Or don't they get a say in it at all either?" she huffs.
"Goddammit, April!" dad roars and everything stills.
Allette's fork clatters to the floor as she covers her ears with her hands. Jaden's eyes shift back and forth between my parents like he's watching a tennis match. Jordan utters a long exaggerated, "Ooh." Micah immediately begins to wail and as for me, my mouth hangs open in disbelief.
Daddy doesn't curse. Well, he does but it's usually when he's watching a sports game. He just tries not to do it in front of us but we've all on occasion heard him say some choice words. Dammit or shit mostly. I've heard him say asshole and even fuck, but he never uses the lords name in vain only because mom has asked him not to.
Looks like he's either forgotten or doesn't care right now.
"Excuse me," he says as he lowers his knife and fork then pushes away from the table. Picking up his food, he puts it in the refrigerator, picks up his discarded bags and heads upstairs.
Mom looks like she's about to cry but manages to hold it together. I have a feeling that might be the last of him we're gonna see for the night.
"Okay, guys. Come on. Finish up and we'll have dessert," she says trying to sound chipper and it seems to work on the little ones, but as for me, I know better.
We make it through dinner and dessert, then we all do are assigned chores. Jaden and Allette clear the table. Mom and Jordan put any leftovers away. Then I load the dishwasher and mom hand washes what won't fit inside. As for the rest of the evening, it's our regular routine. An hour of television time, baths, story time, then bed.
I'm always the last one down as I don't have to turn in until eight-thirty, but tonight, I can't sleep.
I'm worried about mom and dad. It's very quiet in the house as they're still not talking. Dad had come back downstairs during story time for Micah and the twins, he then helped tuck then in before saying goodnight to Jaden and me and heading to his office to work.
I'm still awake an hour later when I hear his feet as they tread upstairs. I've left my door cracked so I can hear what's going on and when he closes their bedroom door behind him, I hop out of bed and tiptoe down the hall. I peek in on my siblings whose doors are ajar, their nightlights casting off an indirect glow as I make my way. When I reach my parents room, I hold my breath and press my ear against the door.
Okay, so this isn't the first time I've done this but it's not like I make a habit out of it either. It only happens when I think they're talking about me after I've done something that might get me in trouble, my birthday or right before Christmas.
What can I say? I like to know what I'm getting.
Tonight, they don't start of right away though. I hear feet shuffling and drawers slamming so I assume they're getting dressed for bed. But minutes later when they begin it isn't with dulcet tones. They rarely fight, at least in front of us so when I overhear a few choice words, I gasp.
I can't make out much because it's muffled, so I figure they must be moving around the room. I quickly turn and rush back to my room on noiseless feet, grab the empty water glass from my bedside table and hurry back, placing it gently against the wooden frame so they don't notice. I know what they're discussing isn't my concern and Grandma Cat would be quick to tell me to stay out of grown folks' business, but I'm concerned, and mom did mention that it has to do with us kids, so I have just as much right to know as anyone.
I just hope they don't find out what I'm doing.
Now their voices are clearer, I get the gist of what's going on. They're talking about moving the family to Boston and an uncomfortable feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. Dad tells mom that Grandma wants him to take on a larger role in the foundation and he reminds her that she knew at some point this day would come. Dad's already been Chairman of the Board at Grey-Sloan Memorial for years, but his duties have expanded over the last eight months. He's been required to fly back and forth to Boston more often and it appears as if it's starting to take its toll. He explains to mom that this it is what it is and that's not going to change. He says as she already knows, eventually we'll have to attend board meetings and learn the ins and out of the family business.
Mom says that it isn't fair, and she didn't expect this to happen so soon. She thought she would have more time to enjoy life distanced from the all mighty Avery foundation. She asks him what it would mean for their careers because she doesn't want to have to start all over again at a new hospital. He should know how hard it is for her to make friends and feel at home and working in Boston as an Avery is a standard that is hard enough to held to. Then she asks him about their friends they have here in Seattle who've become more like family. She doesn't want to leave and have us uprooted from the life we've come to know and love.
That's when dad shouts loud enough that I'm sure he's at least woken someone other than the three of us.
"You knew this was a possibility, April. It's not like I kept it a secret!"
Then, mom breaks. All I can hear is her racking sobs. I hate it when mom cries and I resist the urge to knock on the door to go and comfort her. But it seems dad does the job for me as her cries are hushed and I assume he has taken her in his arms. He seems to be soothing her as I can make out the words, "I'm sorry. Don't wanna fight. Baby, please and I love you."
Their voices dip much lower after that and as hard as I try to decipher what they're saying, it's useless. I end of slumping onto the floor and I'm not sure how much time passes because in all the silence, I begin to doze off.
I'm waked I don't know how much later by grunting sounds and my immediate thought was that something was wrong. I reach for the door handle but stop when I hear my mom say, "Oh, Jackson," and all I can think is, oh God!
In that second, I know what they're doing. I've had the anatomy talk and the beginnings of the sex talk. Mom wasn't explicit, but Grandma Cat did provide a bit more information which she suggested I do not let my mother know about. Besides, I made the mistake of walking in on them once without knocking very early one morning. All I saw was bare skin and twisted limbs and I made a speedy exit with them none the wiser. Trust me. It's an image I'll never forget. When my mom asked what was wrong with me at breakfast, I told her I had a bad dream and left it at that because that was one topic I did not want to discuss.
But right now, I make a hasty retreat to my own bed and place my pillow over my head praying for sleep to come quickly so I can forget this whole ugly night.
The next morning I'm roused before the break of dawn. I sometimes get up early when my parents start moving around to begin there workday. They leave not long after Mya arrives, and I like to talk to her while she gets the younger kids up and dressed. It's enough time for mom and dad to spend time with each of us, make coffee to go and kiss us goodbye.
Today, I'm not sure what I'm going to be presented with after last nights turmoil and am pleasantly surprised to see mom and dad acting like the lovebirds they usually are.
They're smiling at each other and mom even blushes when dad leans over and whispers something in her ear. They're all touchy-feely and though I'm sure not everything was settled last night, they've seemed to come to some sort of agreement.
Our parents head off to work as Mya cooks us breakfast and after a hearty bowl of oatmeal, Jaden and I gather our bookbags and go wait at the end of the driveway for our school bus to pick us up.
On the ride to school I sit with my friends but barely hear what they're gossiping about. I'm too busy pondering what occurred yesterday and what it all means. We've been to Boston several times so it's not like we're unfamiliar with the city, but all I can think about is if we must leave Seattle, I'll be leaving my school and my friends. I'll be crushed. I know I'm being silly and even though I'm smarter than children my age, I'm still a kid. My parents have told us often that change is a part of life, but that does nothing to ease my fears. I'm sure when the time is right, mom and dad will sit us down and tell us what's going on. They don't leave us in the dark when there are decisions that affect the whole family. I trust them, and I love them. Now, I don't know what's ahead, but I'm confident they'll make the right choice. The most important thing for me to remember is this.
It doesn't matter where we end up, as long as we're together.
A/N: Of course, this was an AU version of Japril. Remember, even though Harriet is only nine, her reading and writing comprehension levels are well beyond her limited years on this planet. She hears a lot and sees a lot having grown up essentially around Grey-Sloan. Plus, with a grandmother like Catherine, you know she knows the tea.