Mothers' Day
Every Mother's Day morning a basket is left on the doorstep of the Martinelli-Carter home. It contains two themoses, one with tea perfectly made with the right amount of milk and slightly sweet, and the other with coffee made with half and half and a bit more sweet. There were also freshly made pastries and hand dipped chocolates, and new small potted flowers to be added to the garden. The basket started appearing when Natasha was small and had asked her Uncle Jarvis for help because she was too little to make coffee and tea or anything involving a kitchen. Natasha would set her alarm for when the basket was to be dropped off and quietly make her way downstairs to retrieve it from in front of the door. It wouldn't dawn on her until she was much older that the basket wasn't all that much of a surprise, because in order for Natasha to have opened the front door without setting off the security system it meant her mother had decataved it ahead of time.
Once the basket was in hand Natasha carried it up to her mothers' bedroom. The three of them, and Roise or Goose later on, would spend the morning snuggled up in bed. Natasha would give her mothers the letters she'd so carefully written them thanking them for all the things they'd done together that year. 'Dear Mummy, thank you for taking me to Paddinton's station when we were in London.' or 'Dear Mama, thank you for helping me rehearse for the school play.' and always, 'Thank you for choosing me to love. I love you too. Your daughter, Natasha Elizabeth Lucia Martinelli Carter. Age: #' whatever it was that year. Even as a little girl Natasha had insisted that greeting cards simply weren't good enough for what she had to say, so she wrote them proper letters, and her mothers cherished each and every one.
After their morning cuddles, once the tea, coffee, and pastries were long gone, it was time to get up and get ready for their day out. There would be brunch or lunch at a favorite restaurant, followed by a walk in the park and a late afternoon movie. Sometimes they would have dinner out in a restaurant, but most of the time they would get take-away and bring it home. Once back home they would settle in for a quiet evening of just spending time together. Mother's Day was one of a small handful of days each year that Natasha knew without doubt she would have both of her mothers not only home, but their full attention as well. She wouldn't understand until she was much older the kinds of hoops Peggy had to jump through to make that happen, not until she had to start jumping through her own hoops to try and keep it happening.
As an adult the basket didn't just magically appear, especially after her Uncle Jarvis passed on. Natasha would make it herself, and then drive over to her mothers' early in the morning and let herself in. She still climbed into her mothers' bed and still gave them each a letter. They still went out to brunch and took a walk in the park, but this year was different. After finishing their walk through Central Park Angie complains of feeling a bit tired and asks if they can do the movie at home, Peggy plays along and Natasha agrees. "Of course, Ma." Concern laces her voice as she offers her arm to Angie as they walk. "Are you alright? Are you getting sick?"
"It's nothing like that, angel." Angie reasures as she pats her daughter's arm after looping her other through it. "It was just a long week and I'm a little worn out."
Natasha hails them a cab back to Brooklyn. She takes her cues from her mum, Peggy doesn't seem worried, so Natasha doesn't let her concern get too out of hand. When they got back to the faded red brick brownstone Natasha noticed right away the warm scent of baking in the air.
"Poppet," Peggy says warmly as she helps her wife out of her spring coat. "Be a lamb and make us some tea, love."
"Sure Mum." Natasha replies as she tosses her leather jacket over the banister on her way down the hall towards the kitchen, and smirks when she hears her Mum tutt and mutter about it. Honestly she really should have been suspicious, but sometimes she could be so soft when it came to her mothers. Stepping into the kitchen of her early childhood home Natasha stops short, her eyes going a little wide, and her breath catching a little.
"Happy Mother's Day, Momma." Wanda says shyly from where she stands near the island.
Natasha blinks. She isn't sure if she wants to laugh at the sight of Wanda in one of Angie's aprons, flour in her hair, a smudge of jam on her chin, or cry because the teen had apparently made her a victoria cake, one of her favorites, for their first Mother's Day together since acknowledging that's the kind of relationship they had. Once the initial shock wears off Natasha makes her way across the room, pulling Wanda into her arms for a tight hug. "Thank you, poppy." The hug lingers for several moments before they pull away and Natasha asks, "Did you make this on your own?"
The teen nods a bit shyly. "Nonna taught me how. She said it was easy for a first time on my own, and that it's one of yours and Gran's favorites for special occasions."
"It is one of our favorites." Natasha replies, smiling brightly, blue-green eyes clearly misty. "Shall we slice into it now or wait until after dinner?"
"After dinner." Peggy decrees as she walks into the kitchen with a warm smile. "We still have a film to watch." She glances at the cake on the counter and her smile grows. The sponge looks well baked, the jam seems a nice thick layer, as does the cream, and the strawberries on top are a nice touch. "That looks scrumptious, darling." Wanda blushes. "Why don't you go get cleaned up, Wanda love. Poppet, you and I will make snacks."
It's a little strange when they've settled in to watch a movie. For the first time Natasha isn't seated between her mothers for their Mother's Day movie. Her mothers have made themselves cozy on the loveseat together, giving her and Wanda the sofa to snuggle on. It wasn't a bad kind of strange, Peggy was still within arms reach, but it was just more evidence that this year was different because Natasha's life was different now. She was no longer just someone's child. She was now someone's parent. It was a little scary and pretty damn wonderful too.
Her Ma makes a movie suggestion and Natasha can already feel Wanda pouting. She chuckles and shakes her head. "Wanda won't watch Pixar movies."
"Why not?" Angie asks, curious brow raised.
"The last one we watched made her cry." Natasha informs them, her voice laced with amusement.
"Momma." Wanda hisses, embarrassed that Natasha would admit that to these two incredibly strong women, especially Peggy.
But Peggy only smiles and says, "Pixar movies are very emotionally manipulative."
"She cries at UP and Brave all the time." Angie says, ratting out her wife.
"As if you don't sniffle through Coco, and all three Toy Story movies." Peggy huffs back playfully.
Angie grumbles. "Andy giving up Woody is bullshit. The other toys, yeah ok, sure, but Woody? Never. That would be like Nattie giving up Dum Dum Bear."
They settle on Mamma Mia because, "Why do so many Mother's Day movies involve dead or drying mothers?" Natasha had groaned. May and Peter had joined them for dinner and dessert, and once again Natasha was struck by the shift in her life. She had always had a big extended family, a smaller immediate family, but as far as what she considered her intimate family had always just been her and her mothers. Now that intimate little circle included Wanda, and more and more May and Peter as well.
Peter had come bearing flowers for Natasha, Peggy, and Angie. When Natasha hugged him to thank him, she held onto the boy just a little longer and a little tighter because she knew May had taken him to the cemetery after breakfast so he could lay a wreath at his mother's grave.
"It's ok Auntie Nat." Peter had whispered to her as she held him. "I miss her, but I know she'd like how many strong women I have in my life looking out for me."
Natasha hugged him tighter and kissed his forehead before letting him go.
At the end of the evening May and Peter headed back to Queens because Peter had school tomorrow. Natasha and Wanda would be heading back to their apartment on the compound because Wanda had school lessons with Laura and magic lessons with a woman named Agatha Harkness. Peggy had taken it upon herself to seek out help for her new granddaughter when it came to Wanda's powers. She wouldn't tell Natasha the details, but it involved going to see an old acquaintance only to find out she'd passed on, leaving a rather arrogant man with facial hair to rival Tony's in her stead. Thankfully Wong was still the warm soul he always was and sent her to Agatha who agreed to help Wanda with what she called her chaos magic.
"Can we make a stop on our way home?" Wanda asks in the car, a bit uncertain of asking.
Natasha glances over at the tone and replies. "Sure poppy, where do you need to go?"
Tony had pulled a lot of stings and thrown around a lot of American money to get Wanda's parents found and moved. They now rested beside their son in the cemetery beside the Episcopal cathedral that was the Carter family parish. Natasha kept her distance, giving Wanda space and time alone with her parents and twin, but she can still hear Wanda's Sokovian whispers reassuring them that she is well, and safe, and loved. Before they leave Natasha promises them that she will do everything in her power to make sure Wanda is always well, safe, and loved.
It isn't until they are home alone in their apartment that Natasha gets her very first ever Mother's Day present. Wanda had been too shy to give it to Natasha in front of everyone. Too much emotion still overwhelmed her, and she'd had a feeling the small gift would cause big emotions. Wanda had been right, as soon as Natahsa laid eyes on it, she no longer tried to hold back tears. It's a second little spider charm to add to the necklace Peter had given her for her birthday. The big spider had her birthstone, the little one Peter's, and this one Wanda's birthstone, an amethyst, on their abdomens. She had it added to the necklace first thing the next morning. The little mama spider now with her two tiny spiderlings dangling from her front legs.
It was perfect, the gift, the day, and her ever changing little family. Perfect.