Author's Notes: Okay, new fic. I'm on chapter nine, so expect updates.... I'm working ahead, so I know what happens and you'll have to wait around and find out... Please read and review. This chapter is sorta bah because it's an introduction, but believe me, it starts moving along nicely in about two chapters or so....
I finished stirring the sugar in the two cups of tea. I had my customary two teaspoons, Amy had her two and a half. I slid the steaming hot cup toward her on the marble counter top, and she pulled out the long sleeves her sweater to create a barrier between her and the hot cup. She looked so different from the last time I had seen her, almost a month ago. I hate to say it, but my daughter looks exactly like me, except for the height. She definitely inherited her father's height. She had the long brown hair, brown eyes, small frame. She had a little muscle on her body, after all she had grown up with twin brothers. She learned how to fight back. She had a cute round face, with dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. And she did that a lot. Since she was the first born, she was always the experiment, but she had come out wonderfully. I can't believe my daughter is almost 22 years old. She's finishing her last year at Harvard, then going off to Medical School. We had both warned her about it for so many years, but she's stubborn. She wants to follow in her parent's footsteps. "So where is everyone?"
I took a slow sip from my cup and looked around. Where was everyone? Great question. The house had been decorated the week before, the Christmas lights were put up, the presents wrapped and stashed under the tree. No one was needed, except for Amy and she was here. We need to start preparing for tomorrow's Christmas Eve dinner, a tradition we've had since her first Christmas, where she ended up throwing the frosting all over the floor and her face. "Rob's out with Mille on the horses. Jack's flying in with his new girlfriend tonight. Ethan's off last minute Christmas shopping with dad. And you're here with me."
"I don't think there's a place I'd rather be more."
A smile popped up on Amy's face and she eased onto the counter, putting her head in her hands and smiling at me. She's done the same thing since she was tall enough to sit on the chairs. She reminds me more of the toddler I had to chase around the house than my beautiful adult daughter. We've grown so close, we've been through so much. I've gone from being the mother in charge, to being her best friend. The feeling's definitely mutual. It was strange at first, but she's above her years. She's the easiest person to talk to and the most compassionate. When she left for school, it was so silent without her laughter through the halls. I'm not saying I don't love my other children all equally. I love my planned children as well as my accidents. Cue Ethan. I thought three was enough. I barely made it through the first two. Hell, I barley survived Amy. I was so worried, I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I paced all night long. I was worried about being a bad mother, about passing on the bipolar gene to her, to all my children. Every pregnancy got worse and worse. I don't know why I went through with it. Well, until I held my baby daughter, and realized it was all worth it. But Ethan, Ethan has always been the "perfect" one in the family. He's a great student, captain of the football team, and yes, dating the cheerleading captain. He's got it all, attitude, looks, kindness. We tease him all the time. It comes with the territory. Soon he'll be going off to college too, and it will be just me and Millie. He's still got about six months.
Millie's the baby of the family, she's only fourteen. She was definitely unplanned, just to add to disaster. I found out I was pregnant the week they began to repaint the house and we went on vacation. I spent the whole time with my head in a toilet instead of on a sunny beach because of my fun morning sickness. Then we came home, and I couldn't stay there because we didn't want to take a chance with the fumes. It was the worst timing ever. But nonetheless, she turned out great. She's a lot more sporty than Amy, she hates dresses and formal dinners. She'd rather wear a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She does a lot of sports, but of course that was foreseen, having 3 older brothers. My large, ever growing, wonderful family. It would be chaos as soon as everyone gets together for dinner tomorrow.
I hear the door slam and the sound of bags being dropped, coats being hung, and shoes kicked to the side echoes through the huge mansion. I hated the place at the beginning, it was so huge, way too many hallways and rooms, but having almost ten people living in the house, including the staff, made it perfect. And if I hadn't suggested having the nanny move in with us back then, I would have had one more little rug-rat on my hands, since he was determined to find a use for every single room. Carter enters the room, flakes of snow still unmelted in his salt and pepper hair. I see Amy get up and run into his open arms, she's three again, waiting for her daddy to get home so he can play with her. Although we'd never admit it, Amy's probably our spoiled one.
"Daddy!!"
He kisses her and picks her up lightly, spinning her around. She lets out a burst of giggles to accompany his laughter.
"Welcome back, princess."
No, she's not spoiled at all. I roll my eyes at him and he laughs all the louder. He puts her down and she wraps her arm around his waist and walks with him toward me. He places a kiss on my cheek and then leans against the counter.
"So what are my two favorite girls up to?"
Amy slides into her chair, smile plastered to her face. I take her now empty cup and put it into the sink. I look around at the array of food items set out on the counter. We have a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time. I always hated cooking, but my family loves it, so I'll make the sacrifice once in a while.
"We've got a lot of work, daddy. So you'd probably be better off going to lie down. We might hurt you when we get going."
I stifle a laugh and he lets out a dejected face. Amy kisses him on the cheek and he turns around, happy that he doesn't have to help. I just hope he remember to pick up Jack and his latest squeeze in three hours. I hand Amy an apron and she pulls the first string around her black turtleneck, and then ties the strings right on the edge of her dark blue jeans. Next she's handed a bowl and a whisk, which she takes and starts to slowly whip the ingredients together.
"So how's everything between you and daddy?"
I knew the question was coming, but I thought she would wait at least till after the holidays to ask about it. I turn away toward the refrigerator, searching for more milk that we don't need. I hide behind the open door for a second, I let out a deep breath. We had agreed to pretend everything was working out for the kids, but almost entirely and only for Amy. She heard the screaming match we had a few months ago, and questioned us about it. It was hard pretending everything was alright. It really wasn't. Hell, she would flip if she knew I had a drink a few nights ago when I was home alone. I shut the door. I plaster my best fake smile, but I know Amy reads right through it.
"Mom."
I shrug my shoulders, this time trying my impassive expression. It seems to pacify her for a minute or so."Are you getting a divorce?
"We don't know yet."
We honestly don't know yet. The question had come up, neither one of us seemed too willing, but not against it either. Maybe it would be good for us. We would still be a family, regardless of where we were. We both loved our children, and they would never feel the effects of the divorce. They would simply have to get used to not spending a week at the house with both of us there.
"Mom, please. Talk to me."
I turn away from her, looking for something to busy myself across the kitchen. I walk over and turn the stove on to warm. I take another bowl and throw two cups of flour, some flavoring, salt, baking powder, water. I'm not really paying attention now, I've done these recipes too many times. How am I supposed to talk to my daughter when I don't know myself what is going on.
"Amy, it's complicated. You wouldn't be able to understand."
I watch her lay out the cookie batter on the counter, and start cutting out shapes with the metal frames. She's frustrated by the look on her face, and I don't think its because of the cookies. What am I supposed to tell her?
"So explain it to me."
I take the first set of cookies and place them into the oven. I then begin to pull out the rest of the ingredients for the bread I had to begin to knead. I could feel my daughter's gaze on my back. I was now afraid of facing my own daughter. She wouldn't be able to understand it. I say that with all honesty. How am I supposed to tell her that her father never really loved me? That I was more of a security blanket, something to keep him warm at night? Maybe he had loved me before, maybe we would have turned out differently. But I wasn't the one he wanted to be with. It wasn't that bad at the beginning, I just kept on convincing myself we'd win back what we had.
"I can't explain it to you, because I can't explain it to myself... But let me tell you this much. Your dad's still young. He's got a hell of a life in front of him still, and he deserves to find happiness, because, Amy, that happiness is not going to be with me. I've gone through enough to know I can be on my own. Your dad... Your dad has so much inside of him, so much to offer someone... He's a good man, Amy. You know that marriages don't always last forever. We'd both be a lot better off. And whatever happens, none of you will be loved any more or less. You are our children, we'll always love you."
I saw her begin to bite on her bottom lip, but that's the best answer I could have given anyone at this point. He doesn't love me. I've come to terms with it.
"What about a separation? Do you have to turn to a divorce so quickly?"
I know my daughter means well, she wants to save our failing marriage. But there's nothing she can do at this point. Carter and I haven't talked in weeks, besides the formalities. We haven't been able to spend time together for years. We've only stayed together for the kids. But three of them are already gone, Amy's on her way to starting her own family. Ethan is off to college next year, and Millie's old enough to understand. We're not bad parents, we're just bad as a couple.
"We've spent the last twenty years separating."