December 2038
"Daddy! Daddy lookit! 'm skatin'! 'randa 'n me are skatin!"
Rachel waved furiously from the roller ring as she wobbled slowly on her rented skates. Miranda Chase, Victoria's daughter, not to mention the birthday girl, was playing the role of dutiful 'big sister', helping her stay on her feet.
"C'mon, Rachel! Just watch me...watch what I'm doin' okay? We're gonna make you an awesome skater today!" the older girl proclaimed.
Chloe waved back in return, smiling. The two girls had grown up together and were like peas in a pod, despite the difference in age.
Gotta hand it to Tori. She's doing a pretty awesome job as a single mom. Not the road I would have walked down, certainly not by intention, but hey, if it works for her, then cool.
"Juicebox, Madame Mayor?" Victoria said teasingly, holding out a silver foil pouch. Chloe glanced over, and then smirked, laughing.
"Oh my God, when did they start putting out glasses of wine like this?" She grabbed the straw and punched a hole, then took a satisfying sip. She wasn't much of a connoisseur, but free booze was still free booze. "And damnit Tori, you know that was a long time ago."
"Not soon enough, let me tell you. And yeah. I know. I do it because you know how I love to annoy the shit out of you."
They laughed together, before Victoria spoke up, "Too bad Max couldn't make it, but I know she's trying to get the absolute best shots she can to wrap up her new show. I mean, I tried to tell her maybe to take it easy this month, but what do I know, I'm just the gallery owner. You think I'd be the one going nuts over this."
"Yeah. Well. Max is driven. But that was the agreement, too. I'm the stay-at-home Daddy, so she can still go out and bring home mucho bacon. I mean, I still contribute, with the whole lobbying and consulting and training rackets. Hate it when it takes me away from home, even for just a day or two. Thank god for light rail though. Lot easier to get into the capital than it used to be."
They both sipped their wine in silence as they watched the girls squealing with delight, up and down the rink.
"Man, I can't believe kids are still rollerskating, Tori." Chloe glanced over towards the colorful, cartoonish party decorations. "Or that Steven Universe is still somehow 'a thing'. I mean, don't get me wrong, awesome show is awesome, but that was twenty five years ago. Somehow, I imagined the future would be - uh - ummm..."
"Uniformally futuristic?" Victoria suggested with a smirk.
"Hah. Something like that."
"Well, I guess life never goes in the direction you expect it to." Victoria paused, reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn, which she then began to eat one delicate kernel at a time. "At least, if you're doing it right. But, we can't complain much, right? We're still doing what we want, more or less. We've got...let's be honest here, pretty awesome kids. We got food in our bellies and a roof over our heads, and that's a more than what's happening in a lot of the rest of the world."
Chloe nodded once and said in a soft voice, "I seem to remember and old song, about life being what you made it."
"Oh sure. If you're lucky enough."
Chloe held out her juice pouch, as if to toast. "Well, here's to being lucky enough, then."
Victoria gently smooshed her pouch together. "I'll drink to that. Hey, so, later tonight, when the kids are all in bed: are we still running off to that new vapor lounge-slash-nightclub? We haven't had a proper girls night out in for-fucking-ever."
"Ha ha! Yeah...yeah. My folks agreed to watch'em both for the rest of the weekend. Huh...you know, I can't believe I'm about to ask this, but you ever wonder if we're getting too old for that kind of shit?"
Victoria gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously, Chlo-lo? We're barely in our forties. You're buff, my ass is still fantastic, Max still has a toned rack. We're not ancient. Just because we're mommies..." she paused, and smirked knowingly. "And daddies, doesn't mean our life is over either. I mean sure, we're now the supporting characters in our kids stories, but that doesn't mean our story up and ended. It's all about keeping the balance."
Chloe finished up the rest of her wine, and tossed the empty container away into the trash. "Hah. Well, thanks for the perspective check. I can't believe I needed one. From you of all people."
Victoria shrugged. "Well I've never stopped being awesome, and I'm always willing to share that awesomeness with my friends. Now, lets see how well we skate with some cabernet in our blood."
July 2040
Rachel laughed gleefully, as she rolled around the carpet of the 'interaction room' in the pet store and rescue shelter that Frank Bowers had run for the past two decades. Rachel's seventh birthday was just around the corner, and she had, much to Chloe's consternation and attempts to convince otherwise, asked for a dog as a pet.
What's wrong with cats? Cat's are the bomb. They take care of themselves, and come pre-programmed to poop in a box. Boxes that now completely clean themselves because we live in the future, and the future is awesome.
Chloe was, to put it mildly, not a dog person. Bongo was her first pet, the one to steal her heart away, and she'd been a staunch supporter of Team Feline since. But she was an even bigger sucker for her daughter. Rachel wanted a dog, more than anything else...
...and who the hell am I to say no? She does her chores, her grades are good. I was a politician, I'm good at giving people what they want.
It was Max's idea to go and adopt a mutt from Frank. Chloebarely had the heart to tell her wife that she'd rather go to one of the higher-class breeders in the surrounding countryside, with pedigrees and papers and some paper training...
"And crazy problems from all the inbreeding. C'mon Chloe, you have to do this. Frank's not a family friend, but he is a friend, and it'd look really shitty if the former mayor of the town wasn't supporting the local economy."
Damnit, but Max had a point there. And it was true that...well...
The days when he and I were at each other's throats was forever and a day ago. Guy's been selling dogs longer than he was ever selling drugs. Never tried to call in favors or shit when I was mayor, always wanted to make his own way as a member of the business community.
And so the matter was quickly settled.
It was precisely nine point three seconds before Rachel found 'The best dog in the whole world! Seriously, Daddy! Seriously!"
The female puppy in question was a mutt. A German Shepard by and large, but with other bits thrown into the mix.
Frank stepped up behind Chloe, as she watched Max and Rachel play together with the potential housepet to be.
"That one's a good choice. One of Pompidou's great, great, great whatever the hell grand kids. I would have suggested that one, if your kid hadn't already gone straight to her."
Chloe shifted a little nervously, a question burning right on the tip of her tongue.
"I...ah...I hate to ask, Frank, but...I remember your old dog could have a hell of a mean streak when it wanted to. Is that dog gonna be...alright, for her?"
Instead of being offended, Frank chuckled softly. It seemed the past two decades wore down the worst of his rough edges. He clapped her on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry. I treated Pompidou right. And his kids. And those kids after. Down on the line. Like I'm gonna let the former Mayor of Arcadia Bay's daughter get herself a bad seed. But hell, even if you were just some nobody off the street...you know, I take pride in what I do. Besides, no offense, but I know damn well you couldn't handle a full-on rescue dog." He canted his head to Max, "Her, maybe. Your girl, for sure, someday. But...heh, not you."
Chloe blushed, and murmured, "Sorry. More nerves than anything about - about dogs in general. Never a big fan but.." She sighed softly. "Gotta admit, she really seems to have a new best friend. They just immediately clicked, didn't they?"
Frank smirked, nodding his head. "Some folks, they just have the touch. The gift. Like...they immediately understand an animal, and animals know that they're a friend. Rachel...I mean...Rachel Amber, she was that way. Pompidou knew her for what she was as soon as he saw her. Seems like your daughter's the same way. Makes me wonder sometimes...you know? If this is her way of coming back?" He sighed gently. "Would be nice. The universe owed her."
Chloe turned fully towards Frank and gave a casual shrug. "Gotta say, the fact they share a birthday is spooky. But cool. I mean, I don't wanna put anything on her, because who knows. I don't want to read into the fact that she's got blonder hair than either Max or I, or how she is with dogs. Just let her be a kid. But..." she nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe this is how Rachel gets the life that got cut short the first time."
The two of them just glanced at each other for a long few seconds; their eyes met and a moment of shared pain and understanding passed between them. They'd never spoken more than a few words over the years, regarding the truth of Rachel Amber's death, and who'd been the one to murder her. It was ancient history now; something to bind them together, no matter how tenuous the link might be.
Rachel finally ran up to the both of them, the puppy gleefully barking and nipping at her heels
"Daddy! Daddy! I want this one! This is her! I'm gonna call her Trixie!"
"Oh yeah?" Chloe tilted her head. "Weird name for a dog."
Rachel shrugged. "Don't care. That's her name. I just...I know it."
Shaking her head, Chloe tried not to smile too wide, and turned to Frank. "Alright, well. Let's get down t'bidness then. I do believe we have a new family member to bring home."
August 2041
"Awww, God! Look at this...bullshit!" Chloe groaned in disgust, waiving around the ultralight tablet she was reading the latest news on as she ate breakfast with Max.
Mouth still full of waffle, her wife could only point towards the 'swear jar', an electronic toy jar with a debit card reader on the top, wirelessly hooked up to a bank account. Grumbling as she rose from the dining table, and retrieving her card, she swiped it once, and said, "Total. Fucking. Bullshit!" giving it two more swipes for good measure.
Swallowing at last, Max asked, "So what's got you riled up this time. Oh wait, let me guess..."
"Ricky Sedac." they both muttered at once.
"Seriously! I can't believe this do-...di-...idiot got gets elected to Congress to represent us! Jerk is totally owned by the oil companies, and I can't believe that's still a thing. They know they're a dinosaur, they know they've lost, but he keeps lobbying away, and specifically picking at the clean energy subsidies. Now he's trying to completely kill the excess energy production credit in the state. That thing's my baby! It's like he's not only trying to seriously discourage people from going with a distributed power grid, but he's going for the jugular here in the Bay...and me personally! The hell this asshole gets off? And yes, I'm keeping a tab, I'll settle up later. But...how the fuck does this guy keep getting elected?! It's almost the middle of the Twenty-first century!"
Max sighed delicately, spearing a piece of waffle, and bringing it up to her mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering, "Sweetie, you've been complaining about this guy for years. Unfortunately, Oregon still has this kind of weird conservative core outside the cities, and people are continuing to freak out over the world getting more and more progressive. Anyhow, he's up for re-election next year, right? Why don't you just run against him, and then you can be the Congresswoman for our district."
Chloe paused, blinked. Her jaw dropped and stayed low for a second before she closed it.
"What? No. No no, I...I couldn't...I mean, I gave that shit up almost ten years ago, so we could start a family. That part of my life is done now. Me, going back into politics? I'd be backsliding."
Max rolled her eyes, along with her head, overemphasising the action. "Oh God, please. Now you're a lobbyist and a consultant. You never got out of the politics game, you just switched positions on the team. Hell, you looooove politics, just as much as you love telling people you hate it."
:"I refuse to confirm the correctness of your statement." Chloe grumbled, though the half-smirk on her lips told the tale; Max had her dead to rights.
She shook her head, "But sweetie, I figured the whole stay-at-home-for-the-most-part Dad routine was working well. I should stay in Rachel's life as much as I can. How am I gonna do that if I'm a federal Congresswoman?"
Max rose up, walking to the fridge to get more orange juice. "Congresspeople go into DC like what, barely a week a month now? A lot of the work is done through telepresence. So you take the hyperloop to DC, and then you're back just as quick, when you have to show up in person." She held up a hand. "I mean, if you really don't want to run, don't. Find a candidate you like, and work on their campaign. I mean shit, Maggie taught you enough of her tricks, you could easily be a campaign manager. And don't pretend that the Oregon Democratic Party hasn't been begging you, year after year, to run for office again. You're still a rockstar in their eyes." She laughed lightly, and continued, "But just do something, baby. You know sitting on your butt and yelling about Sedac doesn't do wonders for your blood pressure.
Chloe gave a bit of a pout, and leaned back in her chair. She pondered, clearly weighing the notion in her mind.
"Huh? I suppose Rachel's old enough now, she's in grade school, it's not like I need to stay at home anymore."
Max walked back, letting her robe fall open just a bit, as she sat down, nestling into Chloe's lap, and wrapping her arms around her wife's neck. She leaned in and whispered, "And you've always been kind of sexy when you wield supreme executive power."
Chloe leaned in, their mouths just an inch away from each other. "Oh yeah?" she murmured playfully. "You realize I'd only have junior legislative power at best?" She stole a quick kiss, pulling Max firmly against her.
"Oh well." Max whispered. "I guess I'll just have to settle for you being plain dead sexy then."
Their mouths met in a firm, deep kiss. Chloe rose slowly up, laying out her wife on the table, and grinning down at her knowingly, grateful for the fact that Rachel was off playing with friends and wouldn't be back home anytime soon.
Max parted her robe all the way now, and spoke in a breathy, inviting voice, "Still hungry?"
"Oh...I could still eat." Chloe replied, before leaning in to plant a trail of kisses on the other woman's chest and abdomen.
She started making the calls the next day. By next November, she'd be damn ready for a fight.
November 2046
"So as you can see Congresswoman...well I'm sorry to have called you in, but given the situation, I thought it was best - seeing as your wife is also a teacher here - not to give any appearance of favoritism." said Principal Morgan, a stern but ultimately fair woman of Asian descent, who replaced Wells several years back.
Adjusting her necktie, and recrossing her legs, Chloe glanced over to Max, who was doing her best to hide a livid expression from her face, arms crossed defensively as she seethed.
She nodded, and said, "Of course. Certainly. You're well aware of the extreme distaste that Max and I share for the - ah - the bad old days in Blackwell history, and the.." she paused, not that she needed to gather her thoughts, but it never hurt to look like she was trying to weigh her words with consideration in situations like this.
"...we were both personally and deeply affected by how the Prescotts ruled this school, and the town as well, like their personal fiefdom. So naturally, now that we're in positions of power, we don't want to come off as hypocrites." Max interjected.
Chloe was still painfully aware of how the tables had turned since those early, turbulent days of her youth, that seemed so far and distant now; to go from a disenfranchised youth in constant trouble with the law, angry at everyone and everything in the world, to her current position: former beloved mayor, currently beloved congresswoman, significant financial donor to the school.
But unlike Ray Wells, Connie Morgan didn't seem to care a damn about it. Oh sure, she was aware of it, respected it, but didn't let it affect her decisions.
Fucking good for you, too! So many people have spent so much time trying to toady up to me. Nice to find one brave woman in this world who'll stand their ground. God knows Max and I are the pushovers, compared to some of the other parents of precious snowflakes.
The principal nodded as she adjusted her glasses; it was a curious, almost antiquated affectation in a modern world where bionic and laser corrective eye surgeries were almost as commonplace and simple as an ear piercing.
"Good. I'm relieved to see that you understand the gravity of this incident. Not that I thought otherwise, of course!" She held up a hand. "If anything, the two of you are some of the most responsible, and dependable parents of children attending this school."
Oh well, I guess you gotta butter me just a little, huh?
Chloe leaned forward, "Of course. We appreciate that. We're a team after all, the three of us, and we only have Rachel's best interests at heart. So naturally..."
Max didn't let her finish. "I can assure you, Principal Morgan, we are both well aware of the magnitude of what our daughter's done. I apologize, and I'm sure my wife does as well, for her conduct. She will be appropriately disciplined."
Chloe blinked. It was a long time since she'd seen her wife on the warpath. Truth be told, she'd little idea what it was that Rachel was in the shithouse for. Something about getting into a fight with another girl? The answer would be coming soon enough. The politician in her advised that the best course of action was simply to nod and look in absolute agreement.
She crossed her arms for extra emphasis, trying her best not to laugh when she realized that she'd become the perfect mirror image of Max.
Morgan seemed satisfied. "Of course, Mrs. Price-Caulfield. I have complete faith that you'll handle the matter properly. As for her academic punishment, naturally I feel it would be best if I gave Rachel the same as Faith: one week's detention, which I will allow you to oversee.
Yeowch! I would hate to be our daughter right now, Maxima.
After handshakes and final pleasantries were exchanged, the two of them walked out of the office. They approached the bench where Rachel was stewing, her shoulder length blonde hair matted. A black eye was forming, and there were still some scratches down one arm. She was absolutely seething, a mirror of her mother in miniature.
Max pointed down at her, and then then stabbed a finger at the door. "In the car, young lady. And you can tell your father exactly what happened."
All but ignoring Max, the girl turned straight towards Chloe, holding out her arms pleadingly and started to huff, "First off yo, I didn't start anything! It was all Faith Boyce. I mean, crap! Should be giving me a medal for standing up against that bitch bully!"
Max hissed, "Rachel Vanessa Price-Caulfield, language!"
Chloe gave a soft, internal sigh. Max loved their daughter, of that there was no doubt. But ever since Rachel turned thirteen and started attending junior high at Blackwell, they'd been at it like cats and dogs. Part of it was driven by Max's desire to see her daughter, who was bright, gifted, talented excel to the best of her potential. But...
...you've been a teacher too long, Max. And you're a more than a little sensitive sometimes about how her behavior reflects on us. I wish you'd chill a little but...I guess If I were in your shoes, I'd be acting the same way. Maybe.
Still, it struck Chloe as curiously twisted that Max was becoming the 'bad cop', with Chloe unintentionally assuming the role of the softy father.
Hah. I guess I'm just like my Dad, in the end.
Chloe put a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Just tell me what happened, kitten." She bit her tongue, immediately regretting it, as Max shot her an angry glare. "I mean...uh...we're very disappointed in you. Fighting?" She shook her head, vainly trying to ameliorate her mistake.
Rachel smirked, "Right, so, like...Faith was picking on the new girl. Don't remember the name, but she's from one of those countries that's toto underwater now? Venice, Netherlands, I can't remember, but the new girl and her family were refugees. And Faith, she was all snapping into her with "God hates you and your people, which is why he sent a flood to clean your wickedness. And God hates people who don't speak English properly, and nyan-nyan-nyan." She snorted loudly. "And I tried to ignore it, I know...she" Rachel canted her head towards Max, "Is all about how I need to tell a teacher or get an adult or - pfft! - wha-evs. But I did try to tell her to just knock it off at first. I did...Daddy! For re-eelz!"
Oh boy. Daddy huh? You don't call me that anymore, unless you're trying to butter me up. And damn, the way these kids talk today. Did I sound that goofy, forty years ago?
"Yeah well, talking doesn't get you battle damage like that, Rachel. Believe me, if words actually did that kind of thing, I'd come back from DC like I was run through the meat grinder."
Rachel started to laugh, and wilted under her mother's glare, as they clambered into their car.
"Take us home!" Max intoned; the automotive AI responded with a few chirps, and began to drive them back on autopilot.
"So Faith..." Chloe prompted.
"Yeah! Well, I told her to step back and spin down and get over herself, so then she starts snapping into me! And her program is all about how you guys are sick freaks, and I'm some fuc - uh - fraked up mutant. And how you cheated to win the election two weeks ago, Dad. Same crap on repeat, on and on. Grrr! So I just...I just..." she held up a fist.
Wow! Go you!
Is what Chloe wanted to say.
I mean, Faith Boyce, IS a fucking bitch. It's like her Grandma came back to life in her or something. It's a shame that kind of ignorance and sickness still lingers around after all this time, but you still have crazy racist people too. Shit takes a long time to change.
The part of Chloe that wanted to shoot her daughter a high five for standing up to a bully warred with her need to be something of a responsible parent, or at least to not undermine Max.
Chloe settled for sighing dramatically, and covering her face, giving her head a disappointed shake. "Rachel, violence just causes more of the same. You throw down with her, and then she has to thrown down back some other time, and one of you keeps escalating it, and then where does it end? If it seems like we're being hard on you, it's because we have a responsibility to make sure you understand the severity of the situation. You can't go around just punching folks for being idiots."
Believe me, I would have murdered at least eight people by now, in my career, if that were the case.
Rachel slumped back as far as she could in her seat, and sulked. "I thought you woulda groked it." she mumbled through gritted teeth.
"Well, I can't always be Fun Dad, Rachel. I'm a parent first." Chloe then glanced over to her wife, as if to say, "Babe, tag in! Tag in!"
Max was more than happy to, "Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about ways you could have handled the situation better, between detention, and being grounded for two weeks."
"Two weeks! But...Mooom! You can't, that's - that's not fair! Miranda's gonna take me to Portland! We were gonna do the Maria Mercuria concert!"
"Well, you should have thought of that before."
Chloe groaned inwardly, and did her best to tune out the rest of the battle playing out in the car. The one that didn't end until Rachel ran screaming up the stairs and into her room.
The next morning, Chloe woke early, sneaking out of bed, and gently padded down the stairs. She smiled lightly, as she found her daughter calmly eating her cereal before school. She sat down at the table next to her.
"Hey." she breathed out.
"Ohae." Rachel said flatly.
Damn teen slang...
After an awkward moment of silence, Chloe leaned in wrapping an arm around her daughter, and said, "The next five minutes did not happen. And I will strenuously deny that they ever did if you ever bring it up, especially to your mother; trust me, I have no moral qualms about leaving you out to hang if I have to save my own skin. Now, with that said, give me some fucking knuckles, kiddo."
She stuck out her first. Rachel blinked, confused at first, and then smiled shyly, reaching out to bang her own fist gently together.
"R-really?"
Chloe reached across the table, snagging a two-day old donut from a box of leftovers, and started to munch. "World's a different place these days, kitten. Although...maybe not that different. Seems I remember being told in school that violence never solved anything. The tune may be louder now, but the dance is the same. And that's right, you know, as a general way of life, violence is...exhausting. Trying to understand your opponent, get them to at least agree to give you some breathing room, and just basic respect - well - it's long, hard, arduous work. But it works out better in the long run. Trust me, I know, better than most people. It takes time, a lot of time, more than most people can stand, to build bridges, to get people to understand, to treat you like a human being. When Grandma Joyce was your age age, it was still illegal for people like your Mom and me to be married. Worse yet, some people wanted to keep us from finding work, or even try to kill us. But look at life now? Faith Boyce is the last of a dying breed. She's scared. You know why? Because she, and people like her, lost. A long time ago. She knows it in her heart, and can't accept it yet."
Rachel grumbled darkly, "Don't feel like I won anything."
Shrugging, Chloe answered, "And that's why, sometimes, you gotta pop a bitch in the face. As a woman of peace, sometimes you have to declare a bit of war and throw down. It frightens and confuses the hell out of your enemies, especially when you declare peace again right after."
Rachel grinned gleefully at that. She leaned in and whispered. "Thanks, Daddy."
Chloe took another mouthful of donut, and mumbled, "Welcome."
"Uh - ummmm. So. Can I still roll with Miranda and see the concert?"
Chloe turned, just in time to spit out what she had in her mouth, before she started laughing.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh fuck no. You are still seriously hella grounded. I may be awesome, but I'm still your father. Also: your mother frightens me. Very much. It's kinda sexy though."
Rachel made a face. "Ewwww!"
Chloe just laughed as she looked for a sponge to clean up the floor with.
A/N: Hey folks! Wow, so...this "Life with Rachel" arc is working out to be longer than I initially expected, but I guess that's not a bad thing. By my estimation, I've probably got about three chapters left until the end of the story, but who knows..maybe it goes up to 4 or 5. Now that Chloe's 52, time keeps on slipping, faster and faster.
BTW, can I just say how difficult it is to try and figure out how kids will be talking in 30 years? Guh! I can barely understand the youth of today as it is.
Have a great weekend!