AngelOfDeath07: I said in a previous chapter that she's 2, soon to be 3.
Usi: I didn't forget. Everything is kind of important to move the plot forward, so, no worries about me forgetting scenes. They're going to be talking at a bonfire next chapter.
selledrea: Come ooon. I want to know your theories! If I keep your brain functioning, you should share the favor. -wink-
Escape-Fic: I always put myself down. My writing fluctuates and that sucks.
Heartichoke (1): Thank you!
Heartichoke (13): You're the first person to voice a real guess! I keep waiting to hear people's theories.
Heartichoke (20): Thanks again!
Arrhythmia
I saw a bear in the den,
Reading my textbooks again,
That bats flowed like traffic as they poured from the attic,
Heaven knows, I could really use a friend.
-Owl City
"Okay," Aubrey hums in a tone that she hopes doesn't sound annoyed and grips Sophia's hand with one hand as she tries to use the other to lift her diaper bag and swing it over her shoulder. "We're going to find your mom." And by that, she means she's going to find Amy along the way and Amy is going to find Stacie - and either take Sophia or return her to where she belongs. She manages to get the strap of the bag over her head without letting go of Sophia (a skill she learned from school while trying to carry ten books and a shoulder bag) then looks in both directions - trying to determine which way to go.
Amy clearly didn't go to her room inside the inn, unless she sneaked in the back, and since the possibility of her circling around to throw Aubrey off her trail is -
"Why?" Sophia cuts off Aubrey's thoughts.
Aubrey blinks and looks down at her. It's a good question actually, and she has to take a second to put some thought into it. It's not as though she has anything better to do on this god-forsaken island than babysit. It's not like she minds kids. Sophia is actually rather adorable. But Amy did just dump the kid off on her. It's the principle of the matter. "Because we have to," she explains simply. She gently tugs on Sophia's hand to get her walking then starts in the direction that Amy took off in.
She begins to mentally list all of the places Amy might have gone. The ice cream parlor is definitely one of them. She wonders if she can get more information on the scavenger hunt. Maybe she should -
"Why?" Sophia repeats.
"Because I'm not supposed to be watching you," Aubrey answers. She pulls out her phone and finds Stacie's number. She at least needs to let Stacie know that she has her daughter. She hits the 'call' button then presses the phone to her ear. It rings several times then goes straight to voicemail. She frowns and hangs up then opens up Stacie's number in a text message.
"Why?"
Aubrey stops walking and tries to type with one hand. "Because your mom told Fat Amy to watch you." She impatiently corrects her typos. 'I have Sophia. Where are you?' Send.
"Why?"
That is another good question. Aubrey pauses. Actually, it's the same question. Sophia is just asking the same question over and over. She looks down at her and shakes her head. "I don't know," she replies and starts walking again.
"Why?" Sophia tries to skip along beside her.
Because she's not close enough to the Bellas to be let in on their life decisions - Beca's wedding discluded. Aubrey shakes her head again and decides to change the topic to something more two-year-old friendly. "What's your favorite color?" she asks. She tightens her grip on Sophia's hand for precaution as they walk away from the inn and toward the ice cream parlor.
Sophia hums to herself for a moment before perking up and answering. "Yewwow!" she exclaims.
"I like blue," Aubrey shares matter-of-factly. She dials Amy's number and presses the phone to her ear.
"Like dis?" Sophia points up in the air.
Aubrey looks up at the sky as her phone goes to Amy's voicemail. "That's blue," she confirms and hangs up. She slips her phone into her pocket.
Sophia stops walking and rips a handful of grass out of a crack in the sidewalk - roots and all. "Dis geen," she informs Aubrey and holds the grass out.
The distraction is more welcome than Aubrey would like to admit to herself. She glances at the grass then looks around for more colors. "Red," she points out and points her finger at a nearby stop sign.
Sophia drops the grass then wipes her hand on her pink t-shirt. She tries to tug her hand away from Aubrey's. Aubrey is hesitant for a moment before she concedes and lets her go. Sophia rushes over to another crack in the sidewalk then squats down and pulls out a weed. "White!" She jumps up and turns to face Aubrey, pointing at the flowers on her weed.
Aubrey walks a few more steps and frowns when she can't find anything significant that is a different color than what they've already named. She adjusts the bag so it's not pressing against her collarbone then turns around to face Sophia. The two-year-old lowers herself onto her hands and knees and nearly presses her face against the sidewalk as she examines something on the ground. "Sophia, we have to go," she urges her along.
"No, loocapill'r," Sophia argues.
There was probably a point in time (back when Aubrey was a kid) that she might have understood what Sophia was trying to say. But now, she just scratches her head. "Sophia," she insists.
"No! Loocapill'r!" Sophia lifts her head. She points to the crack in the sidewalk.
It's not as though they're actually in a hurry to be somewhere. Aubrey sighs and lifts the bag over her head as she walks back to where Sophia is kneeling. She places the bag down beside her then squats down on the sidewalk and looks down at a caterpillar inching along across the sidewalk. It's a little late in the season for caterpillars.
"Capill'r," Sophia points out and places her hand down beside it. "Look, A Bee." She lowers her face so her nose is almost touching it.
Aubrey rests her arms on her legs and looks at it. It holds her attention for all of two seconds before just grossing her out with its striped body squirming across the ground. She turns her head and looks up and down the street for any familiar faces. One of the locals glances at her then keeps walking. She sighs and turns her head again as Sophia is picking up the caterpillar. She silently keeps an eye on it to make sure it doesn't get squished. (Cleaning up dead insect off a two-year-old's hands is not her cup of tea.)
The caterpillar squirms between Sophia's thumb and pointer finger. Sophia turns it over a few times then opens her mouth and attempts to stuff it inside.
"Sophia!" Aubrey reacts before she can get the bug past her lips. She tries to knock the caterpillar out of Sophia's hand and it clings to her own in response. Not expecting to actually touch it, Aubrey squeals in fright and flings it off to the side somewhere while simultaneously clambering back up onto her feet. She shakes her hand then disgustedly wipes it off on her jeans, her heart beating a mile a minute.
Sophia jumps up and takes several steps back. She stamps her feet on the ground a few times and covers her mouth with her hands - muffling giggles.
The panic wears off and Aubrey stares incredulously at Sophia. "You think that's funny?" she asks and folds her arms. Her lower lip juts outward slightly against her will and she does her best to hold back a grin that's threatening to replace the pout.
Sophia grins against her hands and vigorously nods her head.
The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch until they're pressed together in a smile. She picks the bag back up and adjusts the strap on her shoulder then smirks and reaches for Sophia's hands again. "No more bugs," she warns her.
"Okay!" Sophia agrees. She bounces forward and latches back onto Aubrey's hand.
xxxxx
"Ant." Sophia leans down and points to an ant on the sidewalk. "Ant." She leans down again. "Ant. Ant. Ant. Ant. Ant."
Aubrey stops every few steps as Sophia comes to a halt. She estimates that at the rate they're walking, they'll get to the shop sometime within the next four to five hours. That's providing they don't run across an entire colony of ants. Then it could take all day. She heaves an exasperated sigh and pulls her phone out of her pocket again, deciding to text Chloe. Chloe is better with kids than she is.
'Are you awake?'
She walks a few more steps as she waits for an answer - but a text never comes. Chloe will probably sleep the rest of the day. Aubrey shoves her phone into her pocket again. "If you hurry up, we can get ice cream," she tries to bribe Sophia.
A loud gasp leaves Sophia's mouth and her lips curve to form an 'o' shape. Before Aubrey can even process the reaction, Sophia yanks on her arm and proceeds to drag her down the street.
Aubrey nearly trips over her own two feet. "Don't run." What did Chloe tell her about not using negatives with children? That it puts too much emphasis on what they're not supposed to be doing – therefor causing them to focus more on it. She draws them to a halt again then proceeds toward the ice cream parlor at a slower pace. "Walking feet," she rephrases herself.
Sophia skips a few times then stares up at Aubrey. "Why?"
xxxxx
The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingles as Aubrey pushes the door open and leads Sophia inside. She lets go of her hand once the door has closed then glances around the room. No Amy.
There is a scoff from behind the counter. "It's you again," the worker points out. He shakes the comic book he's holding, peering at Aubrey from over the top of it.
Aubrey's gaze is drawn to him and she rolls her eyes. "The feeling is mutual," she assures him. But after everything that's been happening, she can't really remember why she dislikes him. That's not important though. "Have you seen-"
"No," he cuts her off. He slouches back in his chair and raises his book higher.
The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "You don't know what I was going to ask." She grabs Sophia by the back of her shirt as she tries to reach for a bowl of sprinkles on the counter. Sophia looks back at her then reaches out her hands for the bowl and begins to run in place. Aubrey keeps her a safe distance from the counter.
"The answer is still no," he replies. He heaves a heavy, exasperated sigh.
"Listen, you bratty..."
He drops his comic book on the counter and effectively cuts Aubrey's off again with the loud slap of paper against wood. "There are 'little ears' in the room," he reminds her and looks at Sophia. "Don't scar the child."
Aubrey draws in a deep breath and does her best to hold her tongue. She takes a few more breaths through her nose and narrows her eyes at him - glaring hard. His smug grin only makes her angrier.
"Ice cweam." Sophia stops running and points to the flavor list. She leans her head back as far as it will go and watches Aubrey. "A Bee!" She whines and tries to twist out of her grip.
It's nearly impossible not to cave. She could ignore Sophia's request for ice cream and keep directing disapproval at the boy behind the counter if she really wanted to, but that would just be a waste of her time and energy. And she already promised Sophia that she could have some. "I'll take a small vanilla in a dish, please," she murmurs through clenched teeth, trying to sound as polite as possible - kids learn by example, after all.
Sophia seems to approve of that and tilts her head back down.
The boy climbs to his feet and leans over the counter, peering down at Sophia with a sweet smile that irks Aubrey. "Do you want sprinkles, Sweetie?" he inquires.
Sophia bounces and eagerly nods her head.
"Yes, please," Aubrey directs her toward the correct response.
"Yes, pwease!" Sophia repeats her.
Aubrey tries to refrain from grinning proudly.
"Sprinkles will be an extra thirty-five cents," the worker informs her.
Her grin turns into a scowl. "Of course, they will be." She keeps a hold on Sophia with one hand and pulls her wallet out of her pocket with the other. She manages to push the zipper open with her thumb then pulls out a five dollar bill and tosses it on the counter. She closes her wallet back up and stuffs it back into her pocket. She taps her fingers along the short edge of the money as she waits for the ice cream.
The worker takes his time swirling the ice cream around in the dish.
Aubrey keeps tapping - the rhythm following the beat of The Sign again. She glances around the shop - taking in the paintings of desserts that line the walls and the jars of ice cream toppings on the shelves. "We're kind of in a hurry," she finally lies - unable to wait through this nonsense any longer. "It doesn't take that long to put ice cream in a dish."
"I was making it with love," the worker replies in a honeyed tone that she knows is meant to bother her. He eases up on the level of the ice cream machine then pulls the dish away.
Aubrey rolls her eyes and rests her hand flat on the counter.
Sophia reaches up and places her hands on the counter then tries to climb up it to see over it. Aubrey holds her in place on the ground.
The worker spoons sprinkles over the ice cream then places the dish on the counter. He tugs the money out from under Aubrey's hand then hits a few buttons on the cash register and offers her her change.
Aubrey grabs Sophia's hands with one hand to keep her from pulling the dish down on herself then takes her change with the other. She double counts it and is about to put it in her pocket when the worker speaks again.
"You're forgetting my tip jar," he points out.
Aubrey lifts her head. "Aca-scuse me?"
He leans over the counter and pats the lid of a large plastic jar decorated with sequins and glitter glue. Did he have a five-year-old make that for him?
"That wasn't there yesterday," Aubrey retorts and tightens her grip on the cash. She has no problem with leaving tips - generous tips even. But for serious.
"It's there now." He flops back down onto his seat and picks up his comic book.
Aubrey frowns and shoves her change through the slit in the jar lid. She grabs the dish of ice cream and spins around just as the door to the shop opens.
Aubrey decides that karma is definitely punishing her for something.
The bartender steps inside and flashes her a smile of acknowledgement. "You know, this is the best place in town besides The Cannery," she comments as she walks past Aubrey and toward the counter. "It has all the tourists in the-"
"Don't talk to the tourist, Nikki," the boy cuts her off. "It's like a stray cat. If you pay attention to it, it will keep coming back." He tosses his book down again then pushes himself to his feet and grabs an ice cream cone.
"It's not surprising you don't have any other customers." Aubrey grabs the ice cream and leads Sophia outside.
xxxxx
Aubrey never understands how Chloe makes friends with such ease. It's easier to not understand that than to not understand why Aubrey doesn't make friends in such a way herself. She refuses to acknowledge that if it wasn't for Chloe, she probably wouldn't have friends at all. She can make friends. She just doesn't want to. After all, what could she gain from friendship with some scrawny boy working at an ice cream shop anyway?
She places the ice cream on the table then lifts Sophia up onto the seat and sits down beside her. She gets a small amount of spoon on the ice cream then hovers it in front of Sophia's mouth.
Sophia looks at the spoon then clamps her lips shut and shakes her head.
"I thought you wanted ice cream," Aubrey says.
Sophia nods.
Aubrey blinks. She moves the spoon slightly closer to Sophia's mouth, but Sophia refuses to open up. "Choo choo?" she attempts and moves the spoon back and forth. It is a train that she's supposed to mimic, right? Or maybe it's an airplane...
What sound does an airplane make? She groans. Aubrey Posen does not mimic public transportation.
"It's going to melt." Aubrey turns on the seat and licks the ice cream off the spoon.
"Mine!" Sophia shrieks and stands up on the seat. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and stamps one of her feet - reminding Aubrey of Chloe. Aubrey almost smirks, but she's too confused to fully appreciate the similarity in their temper tantrums.
Aubrey rolls her eyes. She scoops more ice cream onto the spoon then holds it in front of Sophia's mouth again.
"Gimme." Sophia tries to grab the spoon out of her hand.
Aubrey pulls the spoon back before Sophia can wrestle it out of her grip. "You'll make a mess," she points out. "Just eat it." She tries to avoid Sophia's hands and position the spoon back in front of her mouth.
"No!" Sophia stamps both of her feet. Aubrey grabs her by the shirt with her free hand so that she doesn't fall off the bench.
"Sit down," Aubrey demands firmly. "Now."
"No." Sophia crosses her arms again and tries to stand on her tiptoes - staring stubbornly at Aubrey, almost daring her to enforce her instruction. "I not." She tries to stand up taller again and teeters on the edge of the seat.
Two can play at this game - because Aubrey does not want her to fall. She does the only thing that she knows will work and lowers her face to Sophia's level and looks her directly in the eye. "I said sit," she repeats.
Sophia stares at her for a fraction of a second longer before her face crumples and she drops to her bottom with a drawn out sob.
Aubrey lets go of her shirt and drops her hand to her lap. She sticks the spoon in the ice cream then turns back to Sophia and is about to warn her to quit crying before she stops herself. Her tone is familiar and her throat dries up before she can even recognize how much she had just sounded like her father. She diverts her gaze the ground - unable to look at the crying child in front of her. This is why she doesn't want kids. But is being like her father a bad thing? She bites back a surge of guilt, and in a desperate effort to redeem herself with Sophia, grabs the ice cream bowl off the table and offers it to her - spoon and all.
Sophia immediately stops crying. She looks at the ice cream then grins and takes it - placing the bowl back on the table then attempting to handle the spoon.
Aubrey lets her go, despite that ice cream immediately begins to drip down her arm when she turns the spoon upright. She rests her elbow on the table and her head against her hand - almost staring through Sophia as she eats. Being her father is not a bad thing. It's a good thing. She wants to be a Posen. She entangles her fingers in her hair then taps the fingers on her other hand against her leg. So why was she so eager to hand over the ice cream? She swallows thickly and watches the melted ice cream run down Sophia's chin.
The bell from the ice cream parlor door jingles, but Aubrey ignores it until the bartender, Nikki, addresses her.
"You'll have to ignore my brother," Nikki jumps straight into conversation. She walks over to the picnic table with an ice cream cone in hand and sits down across from Aubrey. "He had this fling with a tourist last summer that didn't work out, and now he just hates everyone but locals." She licks her ice cream then pulls the cone back and swallows. "I'm Nikki, by the way."
Aubrey straightens up and lifts her head from her hand. It takes her a moment to realize that Nikki is talking to her, even after she sits down. Didn't she break a shot glass at the bar? She glances around to see if anyone else is outside. It's just herself and Sophia. Her gaze travels back to Nikki when she properly introduces herself as though the events at the bar never even happened. It takes her a moment to catch up to the present. She sticks her hand out on autopilot. "Aubrey Posen," she introduces herself.
Nikki arches a brow at Aubrey's outstretched hand. She shifts her ice cream to her other hand then reaches out to shake it. "Nikki Bolton," she corrects herself.
Aubrey drops her hand back down to the table, unsure of where to go from there.
"Is that your kid?" Nikki asks and nods toward Sophia.
Aubrey looks at Sophia. More so, she looks at the ice cream that is all over her. "I'm watching her for a friend," she answers simply. She opens up Sophia's diaper bag and starts searching for a baby wipe to clean her up with.
"I hate kids," Nikki states matter-of-factly.
Aubrey looks up, rather taken aback by the bluntness. She glances at Sophia, but Sophia doesn't seem to care. She grabs a packet of baby wipes then pulls one out and tries to wipe Sophia's face with it. Sophia whines and squirms in protest. Aubrey's efforts are useless.
"Where do you live?" Nikki urges the conversation forward.
It's a challenge not to stare at Nikki's tongue piercing as she speaks. Just looking at it makes Aubrey's tongue hurt. She's only half aware that her features crinkle in disgust. That aspect of her aside, Aubrey decides that, overall, Nikki is very attractive. "New York," she answers with a little more ease. She makes sure that Sophia is still situated then slowly turns to face Nikki. "Have you lived here all of your life?"
"I moved here when I was five," Nikki answers. "My brother wants to move to New York. He wants to do like Broadway or something. What about your boyfriend? He from New York too?"
Aubrey blinks. Her boyfriend? She doesn't have a boyfriend. She means Luke. She frowns. "Luke isn't my boyfriend. He lives in..." Where does Luke live again? Oh, right. The same place that Beca lives. "He lives in L.A."
"Now that's more my kind of place." Nikki leans back slightly and waves her hand in slow motion in front of her as she speaks. "Nikki Bolton, bartender for L.A.'s finest celebrities." She refocuses on her ice cream. "Hook up with Johnny Depp every now and again." She shakes her head. "This island is only boring most of the time."
A bemused smile crosses Aubrey's lips. "There are plenty of other things to do in L.A. besides bartending." Because, for serious, who would want to deal with wasted alcoholics every night - even if they are attractive celebrity alcoholics. They're still on their way to rehab. "Even if you don't have a degree," she adds. She can't think of any other reason someone would take up such a profession - if it can even be considered a profession.
"I like bartending." Nikki turns her ice cream in a circle against her tongue. "Third grade, I wanted to own The Cannery. But back then that was mostly just because I wasn't allowed inside. I thought they were hiding like aliens in there or something. Fifth grade, my mom took me in to use their bathroom and I knew it was meant to be mine."
Nikki's story is even more far-fetched than some of Chloe's stories. Aubrey furrows her brows. "Your mother took you into a bar when you were in fifth grade?" she confirms.
Nikki glances up. "Mhm." She gives a brief nod. "I mean, it's not like she was passing beers to her ten year old."
"She didn't care that you wanted to own a bar?" Aubrey inquires. If she had ever had such a low goal in life...
Nikki shakes her head. "She said if I wanted something to go for it." She offers a curious smile. "What, were your parents like the super strict kind that chose what you were supposed to do with the rest of your life for you?"
Aubrey opens her mouth but doesn't say anything. Sometimes it hits her that most people choose their own life paths. But she did choose her own - sort of. She chose Chloe. She couldn't imagine not choosing Chloe, despite her father's disapproval. And she chose The Bellas. Only one of those things were something lasting though.
"Done!" Sophia pipes up and holds up her empty dish.
Aubrey turns to look at her and cringes when she sees that most of the ice cream is all over her. She takes the sticky, empty bowl and places it on the table.
Nikki makes a face. "You should probably go clean that up," she comments.
Aubrey nods her head. She uses the baby wipe again in an attempt to wipe off Sophia's hands.
Nikki holds her cone in one hand and pulls a phone out from the cleavage of her shirt with the other. "Hey, what's your number?" she asks and furrows her brows. "We can keep in touch and be friends even after you leave."
Friends. Aubrey looks up again. "Okay," she agrees. Did she sound too eager? She tries to brush it off as she gives Nikki her cell number. She doesn't know why she's so excited as Nikki enters it into her phone. Then again, no one has ever really asked for her number outside of business before (not even platonically). They mostly ask for Chloe's.
"Got it," Nikki murmurs and closes her phone.
Aubrey smiles and gets to her feet. She helps Sophia off of the seat, trying not to get sticky in the process. She glances toward the ice cream parlor then back at Nikki again. "What's your brother's name?" she asks. "I have some connections to Broadway."
Nikki's head shoots up and she grins. "It's Tyler," she replies without missing a beat. Her smile wavers slightly. "But I wouldn't get his hopes up. It's like once you're on this island, you never get to leave. I swear, even the ghosts of the people who have died here are stuck here forever."
"Well, I'll try my best," Aubrey assures her - not quite as annoyed with the ice cream parlor boy anymore. She holds onto Sophia by the back of her shirt. "I'll see you around?"
"Definitely." Nikki nods. "Stop by The Cannery. Drinks will be on the house."
Aubrey does her best to hold back a grin. "I think I will." She turns and leads Sophia back in the direction of the inn, thinking that maybe the week will start to look up after all.