I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.
I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.
Wherever You Are
Back To It Then
Dot and Bette did make it home safely with Little Jimmy, his Sweet 'N Low, and their groceries in tow.
Patrick actually met them at the door . . .
"Hi, how did it - are you okay?"
. . . looking slightly less peaked than he had before.
"Yes, darling, of course," Bette replied, wiping her eyes again. "Just tired, is all. And we've been worried about you. How's Annabel?"
Peering Patrick peepers.
Not quite believing her poor lie.
Would probably come back up later when he was stronger.
But for now . . .
"She's . . . fine. I mean, still sick but, you know . . ."
And they did.
Sometimes the world just kept turning whether you particularly asked it to or not.
"Yes, we know, darling. Can you stomach some more crackers and ginger ale?"
And when Annabel got better and Patrick got better and they got really, really better altogether . . .
"Thank you so much, Moms. I love you."
"Yes, thank you so much."
"You're welcome, darlings."
"Don't go eating dirty at the seven-eleven anymore."
"Alright."
. . . they eventually . . .
"Goodbye, darling!"
"'Bye, Ma-Da! 'Bye, Ma-Ba!"
"We love you!"
"I louve you too."
. . . went home.
"Hey, girls!"
And fell into . . .
"Oh, Jimmy!"
"We missed you!"
. . . the hook-handed arms of their darling husband.
"I missed you girls too . . . hey, you okay?"
Twins embrace squeezing him tighter.
"We are now, darling."
"Yes, we are."
And down in Sarasota, for a while thereafter anyway, Annabel and her boys just sort of maintained.
"Hey, this shirt fits again."
"Yeah."
With little changes here and there.
"That's nice."
"Yeah."
And nothing really life-changing around the corner.
"Uh, Patrick?"
Or so they thought.
"Is this bankbook up-to-date?"
"Yes. I've been clipping coupons during Sesame Street and using them when we go out but . . ."
But life, as Annabel had once been fond of saying to her Colorado Night Shift listeners . . .
"Yeah."
. . . wasn't all sparkling rainbows and unicorn butts.
"Well, we knew this was going to be temporary."
. . . they realized that money was . . . well, not as money as they had hoped it would be.
Patrick Pause.
"Yeah."
Clearing of the Annabel throat.
"I mean, the backup we saved in Brandon will still last a while but . . ."
Silent Patrick.
"I mean, what do you think, Patrick? Maybe we should . . ."
"Oh. Yeah."
"Hey, there's my boys! How was your day?"
"Good, good."
"Did you have time to check the paper for jobs?"
"Oh. Um. No."
"Cool."
"Hey, there's my boys! How was your day?"
"Good. Jimmy, want to count Mommy's fingers?"
"1, 4, 2 -"
"Well, we're working on it."
"Cool. Did you check the paper for jobs?"
"Oh. Um. No."
"Cool."
"Hey, there's my boys! How was your day?"
"Good. Jimmy, what color is Mommy's shirt?"
"Bue."
"And what color is my shirt?"
"Geen."
"And what color is your shirt?"
"Oange."
"What a smart boy! High-five! And what a good daddy too! Kiss?"
"Ooh! Need to pee! Be right back!"
"So, did you see any job openings today?"
"Um, no. We were making waffles."
". . ."
"And practicing our colors."
". . . Cool."
"Hey, there's my boys! How was your day?"
"Good. We went for a drive after nap."
"Cool. Did you see any help wanted signs?"
"Oh. Uh. I forgot to look."
"Patrick-"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"How's the job search coming, Patrick?"
Awkward silence.
"Oh. Uh. Well . . ."
They were sitting at the kitchen table.
Cramped and sweaty since the landlord hadn't gotten around to fixing the ceiling fan in the living room yet.
And Annabel Margaret Walker Anderson was a nearly twenty-seven year old working woman . . .
"Patrick-"
. . . with plans for her future.
He stopped stuttering. Looked at her guiltily.
"Listen, I don't ever care if we're rich or anything. But I would like to get a bigger place, maybe one with an extra bedroom or something one day. We gotta work together to do that. I need your help."
His expression was quietly despondent.
"I thought I was helping."
Eyes trained on his son as he spoke.
"You are. And you'll still have time with The Baby. I promise."
Careful Patrick face, careful Patrick voice.
"Yeah. I know."
"Good morning, darlings!"
"Hey, Moms!"
"Good drive up?"
"Yes."
"Ma-Da!"
"Darling!"
"Ma-Ba!"
"Darling!"
"Granddaddy!"
"Hey, Little Man!"
"Who's in the game today, Daddy?"
"Oh, I don't know. Ya know, whoever."
They were driving by . . .
"Hey, they're hiring."
. . . on the way back from somewhere . . .
"Even though, I mean, it's not like it's a chocolate factory or anything."
. . . when Annabel saw it . . .
"Do you want me to look for that?"
. . . and casually mentioned it.
"No, I'm just joking with you."
"Oh. Okay."
And so after a phone call, an interview, and another phone call . . .
"Welcome to the Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge and Restaurant Complex. My name is Patrick. How may I help you?"
. . . Patrick got his first job in the hospitality industry.
Evenings.
Which meant he still got to spend days . . .
"Hey, there's my boys! How was your day?"
. . . making his one and only child happy.
"Good! We've been practicing writing our names. See?"
"Wow, good job, Jimmy!"
And late afternoons and early evenings making his wife financially happy.
"Aren't you going to be too tired after staying up with Jimmy all day and working late?"
"No. I get off at eleven. I can be at home in bed by midnight. He gets up at seven. And I can sleep during his nap."
Semi-pouting Annabel.
"Well, what about us?"
Smiling Patrick.
"I've always got energy for that."
Sweet kiss. Teasing caress.
"I've got ten minutes."
"Okay."
"What about food?"
She didn't mean to be selfish.
"What about it?"
It was only-
"Suppers."
-she just really didn't like to cook.
"Oh. Crockpot. A couple of nights anyway. And leftovers."
And he was better at it than her anyway.
"Oh. Okay. Man, you've really got it all planned out, huh?"
"That's the plan, right?"
"Right."
What wasn't the plan was Patrick working a weekend when Annabel wanted to take her son to the zoo.
"Maybe next weekend then."
Or some Sundays when they were supposed to go up to see Moms and Daddy.
"Oh, of course, darling. Come up when you can."
"We love you."
"We love you too."
Even though most weekends it worked out.
And sometimes she just went with Jimmy when it didn't.
"Take him some cheesecake, won't you, darling?"
"Okay. Thanks."
Ugh. Real life, huh?
As my husband says, "it be like that sometimes".
Anyway, thanks to brigid1318, midnightrebellion86, and authumnrose2010 for previously reviewing. You guys rock. :)