"I don't know why we're eating together," Ben hears his Vivian murmur, jabbing into the roast with her fork to only emphasize her annoyance with the man adjacent from her. "I agree with being civil for Violet's sake, but a family meal? I have to agree with our daughter and call bullshit." If this were any other time, if their relationship wasn't crumbling bit by bit for his sins, then he'd be enamored with how much Violet takes after Vivian's strength. Really, that's why he fell in love with her in the first place: he craved her strength, her vitality, and the ability to call his bullshit while standing by him when no one else in his life ever did.
He's brought back to the present when he feels her piercing glare burning him to the very core. "Because we need to be a united force right now, especially under the…unfortunate circumstances—"
"—I'm pregnant, dad; it's not like I have cancer." He's almost relieved to hear his daughter's interruption as she clumsily slides into the chair between mother and father, slouching in her seat. God, he wishes he had her, for the lack of a better word, balls at her age. Instead, he spent his time in his room doing drugs and listening to The Cure: A story to tell her when she's older and questions why all of his cassettes are as depressing as the songs on her iPod (like father; like daughter.) "Actually, Vi, your mom and I wanted to have an honest-to-god talk about this. No yelling, no judging-just talking. First of all, have you considered all your options?" He doesn't want to say abortion, he knows Vivian wouldn't be against it, and even if he's Pro-Choice as they come, something inside him breaks at the thought of losing a grandchild. "I was thinking, considering the situation, of suggesting Open Adoption…"
Vivian speaks up without a second's haste: "And I was thinking Closed Adoption."
"I'm sure Violet will look into all her options, Vivian," because despite the fact Vivian isn't happy with him—and Ben, honestly, doesn't blame her one bit—he really wishes she saved the childish bullshit when it comes to Violet. "Even if she considers raising the child by her—"
"She's fifteen, Ben!" Vivian snaps, leaning over the table as her hazel eyes alight with the same fire that made it unbearable to get the courage and ask her out those twenty years earlier. "Incase banging barely legal students gave you amnesia, we're having twins. How can we afford raising three children as well a teenager?"
"So, I guess I'm not needed, since you two can talk and decide shit for me as if I'm not here," Violet deadpans, annoyed. She's right and both adults slump back in their chairs, as if they're being scolded for talking out of turn. Violet throws her silverware down on her barely eaten plate and gets up to go back and sulk in her room, probably, but she turns around and crosses her arms over her chest. "And yeah, mom, I am fifteen: if I do decide to keep this kid, I know I'll do a hell of a lot better than this charade you two call a family. I mean, you can barely sit through a meal without biting each other's heads off." Valid points, all of them, but it still doesn't stop Ben's heart from breaking. "I don't know what I'm going to do, okay? All I know is that I'm sick and tired of this bullshit so instead of worrying about me, why don't you worry about your failing marriage and who I'm going to live with, because if I had a say, I'd choose option number three because both of you are making me want to puke."
Vivian speaks up, concern etched across her face, but Violet ignores it. It seems she has to get everything off her chest and this is the best time to do it. "No. You take me across country to save this family. You buy a house I actually like. Now, you're getting a divorce, selling the house and pretty much talk about my "situation" like I'm not here. I am. So, yeah, I'm depressed and scared shitless, but at least I know how to deal with this shit better than the people that are supposed to be adults."
With that, she leaves, stomping up the stairs and slams the door to her room, causing Vivian to give a little jump in surprise.
When Violet enters her room Tate's there, on her laptop, looking like how she imagines a monkey and a socket wrench would look. Too bad she's pissed because that's a pretty fucking hilarious image in her head. He doesn't even jump when she slams the door. It's like he's used to it, or something. She takes a deep breath before trotting towards him, sitting beside to peer towards the laptop's monitor. "Wikipedia isn't a real Encyclopedia, Tate," she says with an air of amusement, especially at the boy's sheepish shrug. "What're you looking up, anyway?"
"How not to suck as a parent," Tate answers, almost like he's embarrassed. "I mean, my mom is a Cock Sucker, and my dad bailed…I don't want to be like them, you know?"
Entwining her small hands in his, she gives him a squeeze. "Do you…Do you want to keep it?" She asks, tentatively, rubbing her chapped lips together. He moves the laptop beside him, before wrapping his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her cheek. "Yeah, I mean, don't you?" Despite her earlier confession of not having a clue on what she's going to do, Violet can't help but nod. Everything always seems so much easier, truer, with Tate. It's freeing, in a way. "We'll be better than our parents. We won't bullshit, we won't hurt them, and we won't ignore them. Sure, we're young, but so were Mary and Joseph if you believe in that shit."
Violet doesn't, but she gets it.
She knows she should feel naïve, annoyed, and thinking about herself and her future—she can't. Besides, she thinks her parents are doing plenty of that for her. She cups his face in her hands and kisses him, lovingly, and it's the second time since the beach where he explores her body. It isn't as fast or clumsy as the first time: this one is…romantic, nice, and when he enters her she gives a gasp as her hands grip her purple bed sheets, licking her chapped lips before his lips crushes against her own.
Afterwards he's spooning behind her; one hand strokes her abdomen while the other lazily caresses up and down her sides, pressing kisses against the back of her neck. "I love you, Violet," he whispers, and when Violet reciprocates those three words, she can feel his smile against her neck. "I hope we have a girl."
Tiredly, Violet retorts: "I hope we have a boy."
"Girl."
"Boy."
"Alien."
"As long as it's a boy alien," Violet teases, earning her a playful nip on her bare shoulder.