Author's rambles: Waii. Fast updates. I'm too nice. :3 Thanks, as always, to reviewers.
;Standard Disclaimer.
Chapter six: Mother and Daughter
Meryl breathed deep, standing once again below ominous steps. She clutched the handle of her luggage tighter and attempted to compose herself. She wiped her eyes clean of any remaining trace of wetness and scanned the building before her. It was almost as she remembered. The house was dry and faded, with tiny little cracks running up through the bolstered cement wall because of its age. The friendly, bayed windows with their little pot plants and hanging ferns gave it a nice French flourish and the brick-coloured, corrugated roof rose high above its neighbors to catch the last afternoon sunbeams. The difference was that it looked less welcoming now than it ever did. Albeit, Meryl had never really called it her 'home.' What was home, after all? She suddenly had a fleeting image of Vash, smiling his stupid grin, and felt a lump rise threateningly in her throat. Determined not to cry, Meryl shook Vash from her mind.
She wiped the perspiration from her brow, tried her hardest to relax, failed, and proceeded heavily up the stairs. She sighed and rang the doorbell. Moments (which, to Meryl, could not have been less like nanoseconds) later, a tall, curly haired woman in a florid dress, an intense amount of jewellry and silver stilettos opened the door with a content huff. Meryl gave her mother a wan smile. Her dress sense hadn't changed in the least.
"Hello, Meryl, darling!" she said affably in her slightly British accent, her fat, glossy pink lips twisting into a smile.
"Hello, mum," Meryl said quietly.
"Goodness, look at you, darling! Tummy large as a hippo's arse!" Meryl's mothersimpered with a little 'tsk'. The side of Meryl's mouthed twitched. Her mother had all the subtlety of rotting fish.
"Thanks, mum," Meryl said sardonically.
"Well, come on in, pigeon, come in," she replied. Therein lay another one of Meryl's mother's characteristics. She had this annoying little habit of repeating almost everything and nearly always ended her sentences with a simper and pet words such as 'sweet pea', 'darling', 'sweetie' and 'pigeon' or 'gorgeous' and words like that. She hefted up Meryl's suitcase and flitted into the living room. Meryl stepped in and tread lightly on the polished floor. She gazed at the interior before her. It hadn't changed much. To her right, two pleasant lilac sofas sat cornering a large television set with a cowhide rug placed on the floor between them. Ugly paintings plagued the creamy walls. The only nice bit of art in the whole house, Meryl thought, was a mural in the bathroom. To her left was the hallway to her mother's room and the bathroom. Directly opposite the front door was the domed archway that signified entry to the kitchen.
"I'll just put this in your room, shall I, sweetie?" Meryl's mother chirped from the base of the stairs. The stairs led to the second floor of the house that was comprised of Meryl's former bedroom, a 'granny flat' and a further bathroom.
"Yes. Thanks mum."
"Sweetie," said a scratchy, shrill voice. Meryl looked round.
"Hello, Gabby!" she burst out happily. Meryl smiled, thankful to finally see a friendly face, even if it was a feathery one. If there was one thing Meryl ultimately liked about her mother's tastes, it was her fetish for these beautiful pink and gray birds. Gabby and Boy, both females, were very striking, very expensive Galahs. Gabby rattled on the side of her domed brass cage and chirruped at Meryl as she drew closer. Boy clicked her tongue and let out a raspy: "Pretty Boy." Meryl beamed at them and opened the door to Gabby's cage. She cautiously slid her hand inside and gave Gabby a little pat. Boy wolf-whistled and bobbed her rosy pink head up and down. Gabby sidestepped onto Meryl's hand and gave her thumb an affectionate nibble.
"You can take them out of their cages if you want, sweet pea," said Meryl's mother as she reappeared at the foot of the stairs. "I just recently gave their wings a clip."
"Okay," said Meryl, gently easing Gabby out from her confines and making to open Boy's. "They look just as lovely as ever."
"Yes, they do, they do," replied her mother.
"Boy looks healthier," Meryl stated as Boy climbed out of her cage and hopped lightly onto Meryl's other hand.
"Yes. I've been feeding her on a special diet. You remember she was all sick, poor thing—" Meryl nodded. "—Yes. She was so sick. So, a year or so ago I took her to the vet and… 'pparently she was allergic to the seed I was giving her. And yes…'Course the new stuff is dearer, but I don't mind at all," her mother droned.
"Is that so?" Meryl said absently, not really having listened at all. Boy nodded and let out a trill 'tweet'. Meryl's mothered smiled.
"It's good to see you, Meryl," she said and embraced her daughter. "It's been so long."
"It's good to see you, too, mum," Meryl said. Her mother glanced down.
"Goodness, it's really come as a bit of a shock, though, sweet pea."
"What do you mean?"
"What do I mean? Darling, what do you think I mean? I mean…You never even told me you had a boyfriend, sweetie," she said then paused and watched Boy unsuccessfully try to nibble the diamond out of Meryl's ring. "Or should I say fiancé? Gosh, pigeon, is there anything else you haven't told me?"
Meryl grimaced at the upsetting jewelry and held back tears. She shrugged.
"To be honest, mum," she began. Although Meryl was never incredibly open with her mother, she was always sincere and straightforward. "I'm not quite sure if he is actually my fiancé."
"Why's that, darling, why's that?" her mother asked.
"I don't know."
"I'm afraid I don't entirely understand, pigeon."
"Neither do I, mum."
-
Vash threw off the sheets and got out of bed. He just had to make sure… He tiptoed out of his room and through the dark kitchen, quietly as his fear would allow. He gently pressed against the door of her bedroom and peeped inside. Good. She was fast asleep and absolutely perfectly fine. He pushed the door ajar and snuck inside, crouching beside her bed.
-
'It's getting late,' Meryl thought to herself as she leant on the windowsill against the lime ferns, chin cupped in her hands. The second sun had just swum down beneath horizon. 'I'm hungry.' She looked round at her room; Spartan and gray, as always. Meryl was about as undecided in her decorating tastes as her mother wasn't. 'What am I doing here?' she sighed, subconsciously pining to be in Vash's presence. She glanced at her dresser. Neat. The mirror was a bit dusty. Meryl's eyes circled the whole room. She had this odd sense that something was missing. She had never particularly liked this room and the only thing that made it distinctly her own was him—"Hey! Where is he?" Meryl gasped. It suddenly struck Meryl that her plush was the missing item.
"Mum!" she cried. "Where is Mister Archibald?"
"Who, darling?" her mother called from the kitchen below, readying dinner.
"My TEDDY!" Meryl wailed.
"Oh, that!" her mother registered. "I put him in your closet. He was getting dusty, darling."
Meryl sprang up and flung open the closet door. There he was, smiling happily. Mister Archibald had been Meryl's favourite and only childhood toy. He was a polar teddy, as opposed to a normal polar bear, with big lovely green eyes, a funny grin and a nice big pointy nose. He was also very cuddly. He had been a gift from Meryl's father before her parents divorced, the reasons for which were particularly non-scandalous. During her childhood, and the greater part of her teenage years, Meryl's father was often away from home due to his work.As a result, moving house became a frequent event. This, mainly, and the fact that her father enormously detested Galahs was the cause of Meryl's parents' divorce. Meryl's mother just couldn't stand the constant separation and, as she put it, "Complete neglect of family! And if you don't like my pets, then stiff!" Meryl seized Mister Archibald and hugged him tight. It had been so long since she hadheld her precious teddy. All of a sudden she felt a touch miserable. Meryl flopped back onto her bed and held her hand above her. She stared vigilantly at the silver band on her finger. Could it maybe be possible? Could Vash have perhaps slipped it onto her finger? Meryl sighed jadedly. What if he hadn't? But if he hadn't, then where in the world had it come from? She lay back against the pillows for a moment, and merely looked at her teddy's plastic eyes. She surveyed his silly smile and saw another apparition of Vash's grin. Meryl smiled ruefully back at her white bear and gave him another hug.
"Meryl, honey-drop, tea is ready," Meryl's mother announced from the threshold. Meryl looked up. What a horrid apron her mother was wearing. Pink with a pattern of little yellow bunnies and with downy white feathers at the hem.
"What is it?" Meryl asked, though she hadn't the slightest interest.
"Soup," her mother said. "Come on, darling. Before it gets cold. Come on. And leave your teddy here," she added as Meryl made for the door still clutching Mister Archibald's by his appendages.
"Oh…yes," Meryl mumbled and she set her teddy on the dresser.
-
She's so lovely, Vash thought and gently brushed a few wisps of raven hair from her forehead. What a cute little girl she was. She looked so peaceful, just simply sleeping, an old teddy clasped tightly to her warm chest and the suggestion of a smile on her face. Vash beamed and planted a light, tender kiss on her cheek. He was glad she was safe. He thought himself silly for thinking that anything could have possibly happened to her. It was only a dream, after all.
-
"So sweetie," Meryl's mother began, taking a sip of her hot soup. "How long are you staying, darling?"
Meryl looked from her soup on the table in front of her to Gabby in her cage of vertical bars. She considered for a moment or two.
"Just tonight," Meryl said quietly, turning her gaze back on her untouched food.
"Oh, really?" said her mother. "What a shame. I would've expected you to stay at least two or three nights, darling," she went on. "I hadn't heard from you for nearly three years after all, sweetie."
"Sorry, mum," Meryl replied. The table in front of her began to blur.
"Sweetie, darling!" squawked Boy. Meryl sniveled.
"Oh, Meryl…" Her mother reached over the table and put her hand comfortingly on Meryl's, giving it a light squeeze. "Would you like to talk, dear?" she asked. Meryl gave a weedy nod, and wiped at her smarting eyes then shook her head.
"I understand," said Meryl's mother perceptively. "You just eat up, darling. You'll feel a little better if you eat something," she added, offering the breadbasket to her daughter. Meryl took a small piece of crust and dangled it in her soup.
"Now…" her mother said coolly. "Why don't you tell me about your fiancé?" She had probed Meryl's heartstrings. Meryl burst into tears, shielding her face with her hands.
"Oh, goodness!" said her mother, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to her daughter and flinging her arms around her. "Goodness, I'm so sorry, darling! I should have known, dear!" she said helplessly.
"No…" said Meryl shakily with a large sniff. "No, it's alright. I just…" she paused. "…haven't had a very good day." She clung to her mother's knitted jumper.
"I understand, darling," soothed her mother, petting Meryl's back.
"Thank you, mum," Meryl whimpered.
"Eat up, darling. Eat up."
"Yes…okay," Meryl agreed and retrieved her thoroughly soggy bun from her soup. Boy twittered.
"Mum?" Meryl sniffed as her mother took back her seat.
"Mm?"
"His name is Vash the Stampede," Meryl stated.
"What do you mean, darling?" her mother asked, presenting a thoroughly puzzled look.
"My fiancé's name is Vash the Stampede," Meryl repeated boldly, finally taking a bite of her bread.
"Vash the Stampede? Surely you don't mean the…?" her mother began worriedly. Meryl nodded, downing her food with a gulp of chilled water.
"That Visigoth?" her mother said, repugnance crossing her face. Meryl nodded.
"The sixty billion double dollar man," Meryl began with a strange bravado, "is not at all the way people think he is."
"Oh really?"
"He's very sweet, actually," she said. "And he's a klutz," she giggled dolefully, wiping her eyes. Her mother chuckled.
"Is that so, pigeon? Well if you say so, then I believe you," she said. "Besides, he must be respectable enough if you intend to marry him," she added.
"He is," Meryl murmured, an image of Vash grinning his ridiculous, goofy grin coming into her mind for the third time that day. She sniffled.
"And just think," her mother said, pushing her empty ramekin forward. "I'm going to be a grandmother in—how long until you're due, sweet pea?"
"A bit less than two months," Meryl replied.
"Gosh."
"Gosh, sweetie!" said Gabby cheerily, her ginger eyes glinting impishly. Meryl watched Boy preen her gray and pink plumage. Two months… Meryl felt a twinge begin to make itself known in her stomach. She took a sip of water, trying to ignore the pain. But it kept growing. Meryl wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, cringing and a tiny whimper expelling from her lips.
"Mu-um?" she moaned.
"Yes, darling? Oh, goodness!" her mother exclaimed, jumping up as Meryl fell out of her seat and curled up on the floorboards.
"Vash!"Meryl cried out, black surmounting over her as the pain became too excruciating for her to bear any longer.
-
"Lavender…" Vash mouthed. "I love you."
Thus! Waii. What will happen to Meryl!
You got this far. Now be a sport. -points to review button- :3