Dear Thatonegirl.
The title itself is a pun on words, an alliteration so to speak as well. I tried to explain it back in the chapter one I believe, but you are correct, the Fresnel is the proper name for the light that is used in the lighthouse! Being a theatre nerd/kid( i have a diploma in theatrical production, and costume studies and now work in a ballet company as a seamstress!) I took lighting class back in college. A fresnel is also a stage light we use to light up the stage, so we get the double meaning of the fresnel. The lighthouse, and Rilla passion to be on stage. With Fluttering is a play on meanings as well. Fluttering like the flutters of a babies heartbeat, the moving light of the lighthouse, the fluttering movements of dance it self and what its like to dance on point. Fluttering Fresnels is all of that to me, I knew it would be the easiest thing for people to know, but it felt right to me so I am glad you asked about it!
Glad you are enjoying the story as well! I try very hard to write believable. No parent, even former teen parents themselves would be happy their teen is pregnant. They are supportive, but yes lots of tough love at the same time. Rilla is the same age of 19( same age as the novel) when i finally allow them to have their moment again. Which will be the basis of Allegro, aka the sequel to Flutters
MagsluvsAragorn:- I will leave this here, hoping you will see it.
I do know Degrassi originated in the 80's, my mom used to watch it actually lol. And I've watched them all over the years. I was mainly just speaking about Next Generation( which was more my time being 33 years old), trying to explain it to my non-canadian readers so they may get an understanding of the show.
May
20 days old.
"Are we going to make a cake for daddy's birthday?" I say in a sing-song voice to Owen. I kiss the downy softness of her head as she finally chills enough that I could do manage to do something. So she's chilling out in her wrap carrier after spending most of the morning, okay all morning screaming at me. "Your daddy is turning twenty-three, and one day when you're much, much older we'll explain that to you but for now I don't think you will care or mind?"
I gather up the ingredients, following the recipe that I asked Leslie for. I could make a cake, I am pretty sure I can make to make a chocolate cake. It was his favourite cake as well according to his mom.
"What are you up to?" Dad asks as he was still yawning from his morning nap from working the night shift. How he managed to sleep through Owen crying was beyond me, but apparently, he did?
"It's Ken's birthday," I explained. "Owen is making him a cake."
"I didn't know three-week-olds knew how to bake," Dad smiles teasingly and goes for the coffee.
"Well, I'm helping her," I roll my eyes at him.
"So Kens birthday?" Dad says probably more rhetorical than anything
"Yep, twenty-three," I say clicking my tongue and dad hums. " I'm sure it will be an interesting story for her one day," I say cracking an egg.
"Have you discussed what you will tell her one day?" Dad asked curiously.
"Something age-appropriate I suppose? I don't think mommy had a slutty moment is really the best answer unless she's old enough to appreciate a joke, Pops." I tell him
"Rilla, you shouldn't talk like that." Dad sighs. "What happened doesn't make you a slut Rilla."
"Really? Because your reactions made me feel like one, and now the whole entire world thinks so as well. " I tell him honestly as I stir the batter roughly. I try not to get worked up because the moment I do it would set off Owen. I just spent most of the night and morning begging for her to go to sleep. Then when she finally did, she woke up three hours later demanding to be fed.
Dad sighs once more. "For that, I am truly sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to me take her for a while?" He asks as Owen fusses.
"She'll just scream bloody murder if you try," I tell him as bounce lightly on my heel and pat her on the back. Praying she would give me a few minutes to get this cake finish. The only time I got a break was when Ken was around. She always seemed to be good for when he was around, sometimes I wondered if she liked him better than she liked me at times.
"Have you slept at all?" Dad asks catching on to my sleep deprivation.
"Does a parent ever get sleep with a three-week-old?" I reply.
"Touché, but you need to sleep," Dad reminds me as he greases the pans for me. "I'll watch the cake, go feed and take a nap when she sleeps."
"You do realize that is the most useless thing to say to someone," I give him a look.
"Oh, are you all knowledgeable about babies now? Did that new Dr. Morgan book about the first year of infancy helped you out?" Dad teases me
"You mean the book, Oh shit, I had a baby! Welcome to Motherhood, by Julia Morgan?" I ask him. "Then yes it's been most informative about sleep patterns and growth spurts and milestones. In a way that doesn't sound like cotton candy or a medical book. She comes out and says, I will be pooped and vomited on, so I might as well get used to it. Oh and crying and later whining, well that won't stop for the next eighteen years apparently in some form of capacity. Plus if I put her down she'll start screaming, and my bed too small to safely sleep with her. If there is anything remotely safe about co-sleeping, to begin with, the verdict is out on that one."
"Go get the lounging pillow from the baby shower you got and go to the master bedroom. I'll show you what we did with all of you when you were little and we needed sleep," Dad tells me turning the timer on the stove.
He pulls up the blankets he slept in and settles the baby pillow on the bed and as soon as I begin the steps of removal whose little voice cried out angrily.
"Shhh, shh, I know I know you like being attached to me. I barely manage a five-minute shower before someone knocking on the door so you stop howling and being grumpy with them." I tell her. Her little face is scrunched up, clearly angry with me. There were two ways of calming her, both ways had her attached to me in some capacity. Unless Ken was around, she liked him second best next to me. Though Ken was at work, and I was home with the baby.
Dad takes her and does a small once-over as he usually does to make sure nothing is truly wrong with her. He lays her down into the snuggle pillow, one that is meant for sleeping and tells me to lay down next to her. I climb onto my parent's bed and curl up next to her, letting my hand rest on top of her stomach, enough weight to calm her down a touch.
"She can't roll yet, and she can't press her face into this pillow. Just lie down beside her and let her know you're there. She'll calm down eventually and sleep, meaning you can sleep?" Dad tells me before leaving the room quietly.
"Shh, I'm right here," I say quietly bending forward and kissing her gently.
She sleeps, we both sleep for a good four hours. It feels odd and out of place when I wake up in my parent's room. I can tell right away I am well past one of her feeds as my bra is tight and uncomfortable and I feel like I am ready to burst.
My parents are sitting having coffee when I come out of their bedroom still only waking. I grab my water bottle and settle in the living room. I get Owen on the boob as I click on the television.
It's daytime television, which means it's all gossip and of course it's about me.
'Is this even any of our business? Clearly, the families are dealing with the situation,"
"She's 16 years olds!"
"Have you seen some 16-year-olds?"
"Oh sure go blame the woman for this! It's her fault she got pregnant."
"We don't know what happened! It's not even our business though! Leave the poor girl alone, she doesn't deserve this. We can't make assumptions about how she feels! Clearly, she doesn't feel like she was wronged in any way. She's not the first sixteen years old to date an older guy or to sneak into a college party or to a party in general! This only news is because somebody decided it was for them. We all know the Royce tried to get with Leslie Ford when she moved to Toronto before it was known that she was with Owen Ford. This is nothing more than him trying to get back at Owen.
"Shut that off Rilla," Mom tells me as she comes into the living room as I was watching clips from this morning's news. "It's not doing you any favours."
"Just want to hear what they're saying about me today, making sure that they don't have any other photos," I say as she put down a plate beside me. A veggie wrap it appears to be, probably some hummus slathered in it as well and some soy milk that I liked to drink.
Out of everything that shocked me the most was how much anger I held towards that man for showing my baby without my permission. She was my baby! Not his! I even yelled at Ken's dad on the phone about it until I ran out of insult and feelings before I started crying on the phone.
It was still a cycle I went through.
"Owen is taking care of it," Mom reminds me. "So is your father, or is ready to anyway. Owen says to not out ourselves unless necessary. You slept for a few good hours?"
"She slept through a feed and I feel like I'm bursting," I tell my mom who motions for me to pass her Elowen so I could eat some lunch without issue.
"Well, if she doesn't want the other side, you'll just have to pump some out. Probably best to have a bit of supply in the freezer anyway." Mom says nonchalantly as she rubs Elowen's back to help her burp. "You don't want to get a clogged milk duct or mastitis."
"So the books say?" I say not knowing what else to say.
"I had it once really bad with Walter, no matter what I did it would not unclog itself. It took your father and a warm shower for it clear," Mom says with a shake of her head as she gets Elowen to burp and looks at me to eat my own lunch.
"Eww gross!" I scrunch up my face. I did not need to know that," I tell her.
"Welcome to breastfeeding," mom shakes her head. "Be happy if you never have to ask for help." I make a face, I never want to go to anyone with a nursing problem.
I end up taking Mom's advice after I eat lunch. I leave Elowen with her as I go up to my room to relieve some pressure in my other breast. The pump is nothing fancy, but the basic instructions are there. It's awkward at first, then again nursing is strange enough. Though actually pumping and seeing it come out made me feel like a cow if it was possible to be one.
When I finally made it back to the kitchen, I found my cake cooked and cooled. While dad had also taken a moment and make the frosting for me as well. I take Owen from my mom was beginning to be fussy. I wrap Owen back in her sling so she hopefully will settle into her nap against my heartbeat.
It looks a little messy as I frosted it as one hand was constantly trying to soothe my baby to sleep. Who was getting angrier at by the moment
"Okay, okay, whatever in the world is wrong?" I ask her. Do you have another burp? Are you gassy?" I ask her moving away from the cake with a sigh as I move her to my shoulder grabbed her receiving blanket that I had lying about the kitchen. "Is your tummy? Is it your diaper? Are you crying to just cry?"
She spits up and I sigh as I feel a warm ooze up my shoulder where the blanket didn't cover.
"Thank you for that," I tell her with a shake of my head and went to go clean myself up. When I come back downstairs I finish cleaning the kitchen making myself a small cup of coffee and find myself back in the living room. If I had free time before I would generally dance or work out, I look outside and saw that it was starting to clear up. I look at Owen wrapped in her carrier and decide a small walk around the neighbourhood wouldn't be a horrible way to pass some time. It might even be good since Ken will most likely want me to eat cake for his birthday tonight.
"Where are you going?" Dad asks coming in with his own cup of coffee.
"Just for a walk while it nice out?" I ask. "Is that all right?"
"Of course, just don't overdo it." He says as I nod my head and slip on my shoes and grab on the sunbonnets hanging up and tying it under Elowen's chin so her skin was protected from the sun.
I was walking when I got a message from Ken saying he will be a little late tonight, later than his usual 5:30. I text back a simple okay, and take a selfie of me and Owen out for our walk and send it to him. She was sleeping by the time I got home and after carefully depositing her in the bassinet of the playpen before going to eat dinner. Or the hopes of trying to eat dinner without Owen waking up, which was a hop at best it seems.
"I thought Ken was coming over?" Mom asks looking at the clock when it was almost six pm.
I look down at Owen, kissing her head as she grumbled long enough that I went and got her so she was settled against me once more as I ate dinner. Shirley joked she was a stage five clinger when he tried to take her for me for a moment but she refused the previous day.
"He had a meeting at the university," I tell her quietly and her face softened.
"Damnit," Mom curses which surprise me slightly.
"They know about me, they knew about me from the beginning. I mean they can't fire him for something like this?" I ask her worried.
"I don't know Rilla," Mom sighs. "I hope not for his sake, but it could all depend on donors and whatnot that contribute to the museum. They could pull out if they knew he was working there?"
It's been almost a week since everything happened.
The days passing the bombshell of the rant, Ken hid any reference of me and just about closed his account. It didn't make life easy for anyone, While Ken's dad threatened any media that came our way. I was sixteen and I didn't want or need any of the spotlights. Apparently, I had been offered some spot on a talk show to talk about the situation, which was quickly denied through the Ford's lawyer.
I suppose the one surprising thing was the school, the community said not a word about who was I was. I worried about Ellie leaving some sort of anonymous tip, or even just my name, but there was nothing. Not a peep from anyone about me and I had never been more thankful for my small little community.
"Owen is supposed to address it tonight in his time slot," I tell mom. Of course, I already read the statement so it wouldn't come as a surprise. Still, I decided to watch the segment, it was always strange to see Owen as Owen Ford on the television. He was a put-together man in general, but he appeared even more so on the television. It was always a bit of a mind flip to this day.
'There has been a lot of talk about my family lately and I feel as if I should clear the air. I understand the apprehension around the details that have become public. Considering all that has been swirling around with the movement that has taken our world by storm. They are warranted and while I am saddened by them all. I am ultimately proud of the woman that has come forward with their own stories about the reality of date rape and being taken advantage of.
When I learned of the situation from my own son, I admit I too was taken back. Though upon hearing both sides of the story on multiple occasions from my son and the child's mother. We have come to acknowledge there was no wrongdoing. It was an honest mistake by both parties. My son and the young woman in question have settled things and are working together to raise a child. Both are under enough stress and guilt over the entire situation that this was the last thing they needed and it was in poor taste for it to happen as it did.
My son Kenneth in the moment of question did nothing ill toward and upon realization of what happened has tried every moment since to make things right. His entire life he was raised to respect women, and pulling my wife and I's own age difference into as if it skewed his thinking is complete nonsense. We have never promoted such an age difference to any of our children as normal, and when our children became old enough to date. We ensured that they understood that we were not the norm of society.
I wish to say that no one is to blame for what has come about, the young lady in question is a wonderful young woman with a bright future ahead of her. Calling her unthinkable names or ensuing that it was intentional. It is only making matters worse for young women, any woman across Canada despite the entire movement that is happening.
When it comes down to the announcement, as a proud grandfather I wished to share my family's news. We devised a plan that respected the mother's decisions for privacy, allowing her final say of photos and information. As a blended family, we are all conscientious of what goes out into the world, wanting to protect her and the infant from slander. While her identity is hidden from the media given her age. I ask you to respect their decisions and allow them to be parents without worrying about the safety of their child.
This is my final and only statement on this subject. I hope that we can allow two parents to effetely co-parent and raise a child without the added worry of their child being the talk of the news.
Thank you.
I look at mom, so seems to be satisfied, but she only hopes this would kill whatever was circulating online and in the news. I don't have much time to dwell on it as i hear a car pull up into the driveway.
Ken looked weary when he finally appears.
"Well, I still have a job, but people around aren't exactly happy about that," he tells me as he bends down and kisses Owens head in greeting. "Did it air already?" He asks looking towards the television.
"Yeah," I nod my head. "You can take her, but she might scream bloody murder," I tell him and he decides to change it. She doesn't like the change as she starts fussing but unlike any other person. All it took was a few low rumbly whispers from him and long even strokes down her back, she settles against his chest into contentment. I shake my head but get up stretching my body for the first time in an hour.
"Do you want me to get you a plate of dinner?" I ask him.
"I'm all right, right now," He shakes his head. "Was she a lot today?"
"She's been fussy since two am, but I got a good nap in?" I yawn and Ken frowns.
"Do you want me to stay and you can get a few hours tonight?" He asks.
"I will always take you up on that offer," I tell him. "We can give her, her first bath tonight though? That little navel of hers finally decided to show up," I say in a sing-song voice to her as her face scrunches up and she grunts.
"Ugh, Elowen?" Ken says suddenly, moving his arm away from her bottom to have some not-so-nice wetness seeping through her sleeper.
"Come on this is probably a two-person job," I say getting up from my spot making my way towards the stairs.
We clean up our daughter, and I go rinse out Ken's shirt in the sink.
"This is the third time that it's happened, it must be the diapers," I say with a sigh. I look at the box that had been given to us at the shower. The newborns had run out and I was into the size ones of a different brand which were posing to be awful, or maybe they were too big or just not for her?
"Do we have any others?" Ken asks looking at the stock I had piled up.
"Nope they all were the same brand, I hoped I can get mom to take me to exchange them," I tell him. "The other brand was better, and pretty much the same price."
"Well, how about I go do that?" Ken asks. "I mean that's what I'm here for aren't I?"
"Well, I need a few other things," I say chewing my lip."
"What do you need?" Ken asks not hesitating.
"Some overnight breast pads, pads in general," I tell him not even really blushing. I stopped blushing when the nurse helped me to the washroom and inspected my lochia.
"Okay," he says under his breath. "How about this, I'll run out and get whatever we need from the supermarket so we don't end up being up all night cleaning her up. Plus, since mornings are generally when she is happy, we pack her up and go run errands in the morning? Unless you need things tonight?"
"I'll be fine, I'm just running low that's all," I tell him as he picks Owen up and cradling her just in her diaper and blanket as I sort through the pile of clean laundry (That someone folded for me!). Deciding on a sleeper that was covered in duckies.
Ken laid her down on my bed and I dressed her with much more ease than even a few days ago.
"One little leg, oh look another disappeared," I talk to her as I pull the sleep on over her limbs. I pick her up and leg her rest against my shoulder. I can hear Ken fiddle with his phone for a minute. I let him take a photo, of her looking over my shoulder at him before turning around.
"You're going to need a whole new phone just for all those photos you take," I tease him.
"I can't help it if I think she's perfect," he grins at me before his stomach rumbles.
I roll my eyes lightly. "I think daddy is hungry, should we feed him?" I ask Elowen, who of course doesn't respond.
Mom already has a plate of food ready for Ken, that all he has to do is warm up in the microwave.
I sit and watch him eat as I pat and rub Elowen on the back.
"So I will run out and get the diapers, and maybe get a change of clothes and I'll be back for bath time?" Ken says in-between bites and I nod my head. "Have you seen anyone else lately?" He asked knowing I had seen Olivia not too long ago.
"I saw Wynnie yesterday morning, she and Shirley were hanging about the house talking about something. Owen let her hold her for a few minutes before demanding me once more," I tell him with a sigh. "Though Shirley was playing piano and Owen was so bewildered by it, but I think she liked it? Otherwise, Joy texts and so do the twins here and there, few girls from the ballet world asked how life was. Though one of them asked if I wasn't planning to do any training this summer?" I say with a small sigh as I get up and manage to pour myself a glass of soy milk with one hand for myself.
"What did you say?" Ken asks cautiously, not knowing what I may feel about the whole dance thing.
"I laughed, what else could I do? I am home, caring, though it very much feels like being a slave at times to a baby. I don't know what I thought it might be like, I guess I didn't think it would be like this all the time." I say. "She's attached me to the point I can barely shower without her being angry at me." I take a long drink of my beverage and sigh. He was just about finished with his plate and I got back up again.
"I'm not the greatest, though someone helped me mix the batter," I say and I bring out the cake I had made. "I would have tried to write happy birthday on it, I working mostly with one hand," I explain.
Ken does say much as he gets up and pulls me into a large hug, careful not to squish our daughter between us.
"It's wonderful," he says, bashfully stepping away. "I do love chocolate cake," he says smiling. "Mom usually makes it for me."
I smile as he cuts into it, and hands me a piece before going for his own.
"I hope it's all right, I'm not much of a baker or a cook really," I apologize before he takes a bite.
"This is my mom's recipe," he recognizes it instantly and I smile sheepishly.
"I asked her for it since you're here and not at home," I tell him and I take a small bite of my own piece. It is a good cake I will admit, even if I don't finish it all though Ken takes that as an invitation to finish it for me.
"What did work really say?" I ask him quietly.
"This and that, I'll be pretty much hidden away into a corner or something until this all blows over? I mean they could just fire me, but they didn't, but they aren't really advertising that I'm working for them if that makes sense?" Ken says trying to explain and I just look at him with wide eyes. Because it does and doesn't at the same time.
"You sure you don't need anything else?" He asks changing the subject,
"Just don't be too long," I tell him looking at the clock, it was almost bedtime, not that bedtime matter much to Owen though.
"I won't be," Ken says before kissing Owen's hair and grabbing his keys. I watch him leave before I go to the living room sink down in one of the chairs where Mom and Dad were sitting watching t.v
"Running to get something?" Mom asks when Ken leaves.
"Diapers, we're going to go exchange a few boxes for another brand tomorrow, the ones I am using keep leaking," I explain. "It's okay if he stays the night?" I ask them quietly.
"You know asking before deciding is the best course of action?" Mom reminds me while getting up from her spot with her teacup in her hand.
"Would you rather us just assume or not care?" I retort. "One night a week isn't hurting anyone. He gets some more time with Owen and I get one night where I have help."
"We help you," Mom said gives me a look.
"Only when it's at the point of desperation and you want to go back to sleep." I snap at her as I stand up and decide to just go up to my room before she could chastise me further.
I fall onto my bed, gently as I could to not disturb Owen in the process. I know they help me, but they also make it extremely clear that Owen is my responsibility.
I stew in my own thoughts, still bitter and angry until I hear Ken's care in the driveway once more, and soon his footsteps up the stairs.
"Why does it feel like I entered the realm of frozen?" Ken says from my bedroom doorway with a package of diapers in his hand.
"Welcome to the Blythe household, the house of disappointment and bad tempers," I say sarcastically.
"What happened?" Ken frowns and I shrug.
"Nothing I just snapped at Mom, when she said that she helped me at night," I tell him. "It will blow over it always does," I tell him as I get up.
"Ready for your first bath? A proper bath?" I ask Owen, trying to not focus on my mood.
"Are you?" Ken asks cheekily knowing that I still tend to cry at the drop of a hat over something sometimes.
Hormones don't automatically disappear overnight after all.
"Daddy thinks he's funny doesn't he?" I say to Owen shaking my head and I undress her and wrap her up in a small hooded towel. As Ken sets up the little bathtub on the counter of the bathroom using the water thermometer to make sure the temperature isn't too hot.
She's not sure what to make of the bath at first when I first lay her into the little pool of warm water. Keeping her stable with my one hand as I cover her with a warm washcloth as everyone says it's a comfortable thing for babies.
She looks at both of us as I mentally countdown to what I can only imagine is a meltdown as I struggle to keep her from wiggling as she began to howl.
"Are you going to help? Or you just going to take photos?" I growl at Ken as I feel the sweat drip down my neck. Ken gives me a look of surprise but suddenly jumps in to help and washes her head with the baby shampoo, being careful of the soft spot on her head. His hands are larger than mine meaning she fits more securely in them as we switch spots as he holds her as I wash the little nooks and crannies of her body.
I feel like I was a limp, wet towel by the end of it as I sink into the rocking chair in my room. Ken was the one who diapered her in the new diapers and dressed her in her new sleeper before passing her over to me for her 'bedtime feed'. Before he went to clean up the bathroom of our mess.
I look down at her, her downy hair, her wrinkled little hands that pressed into me as she nursed. I think back to the whole debacle that is life, and Ken's job being close to being gone.
I just wanted to protect her, protect her from everything bad in this world.
Thank you all for the reading! Commenting, and hope you are enjoying this! Hope everyone had a good week!
Tina