a/n: Light humor and fun on this one. Happy Reading!
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"You don't know how much I appreciate this," Chase said letting his early morning guest in.
"What are friends for? Is she sleeping right now?"
"She's been mostly sleeping since we got home yesterday afternoon. It's the most peace we've had in a few weeks. Hopefully she'll be able to eat something when she wakes up."
Pamela set her large bag down on the kitchen table and went straight for the coffee pot. "No need to worry Robert. Eric and I have today covered. He should be around sometime this afternoon, but I'll call him if something is wrong."
Chase gave her an amused glare as he noticed what she placed on the table. "So what's in the bag?"
"Fun stuff for those of us at the party. You have to work, remember? Tough luck for you."
"Thanks, rub it in." Chase would rather be forced to stay home and rest. He was almost envious of Allison in that regards.
"Is she feeling better?"
"She's already woken up twice and cursed me for doing this to her, so it sounds like she is doing much better. You know to call me too at anytime if something is wrong."
Pamela never liked being patronized, even though she knew he wasn't doing it on purpose. "I'm not watching your two year old. Now go."
Chase knew not to think twice about a Pamela order. "See ya," he said as he grabbed his messenger bag and quickly left.
Pamela took in a huge breath of relief over the aroma drifting from the warm coffee mug in her hand. She so needed it this morning. She was not a morning person and really didn't know how Robert and Allison both did it. 'Crazy white people' was her only reasoning.
She glanced full circle around the quiet room, recognizing that after all this time living here together they really did need to do something with the place. It was pretty bland. Of course she would have to bring up later that they might need to consider getting a house instead. The kid needed a yard and some other kids around so they could setup some play dates. She figured such an idea would blow Allison's mind.
Hmm, what could be airing on Saturday morning? She took her fresh coffee and placed herself in front of the really cool TV. Damn, Eric and I are going TV shopping first chance we get. She didn't remember the last time she watched TV on a Saturday morning. Maybe because she didn't watch much TV since they only had basic cable. She knew Robert and Allison had something much better.
Her attention was quickly reached when she saw the Trading Spaces marathon. She and Eric recently brought up the idea of painting and decorating their boring white walls. She needed all the help she could get with decorating ideas since she didn't know of anything better than 20th century garage sale decor. It now seemed like her morning was set. Ooh, look what you can do to an old piece of furniture. She was rather excited asthe ideas were flowing now.
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A few hours later Cameron gingerly crept out of her room. She was just disoriented enough to where the presence of a houseguest alarmed her.
"Granted I haven't seen you recently, but you aren't looking like the death warmed over that Eric described." Pamela knew Allison didn't like over-concern, so she wasn't going to show any today.
"Gee thanks. So you do babysitting on the side? How much an hour is that paying nowadays?"
"For use of your TV and premium cable, nothing. This is the most entertainment I've had in a while."
"It's satellite. Cable sucks." Cameron took a seat on the couch next to her and was floored by what they were witnessing on the TV show. She and Pamela watched the train wreck of a reveal with mouths completely hung open.
"Is that room completely decorated in cardboard?" Cameron asked.
"Uh huh, and she applied it to the walls with liquid nails too. That room is completely ruined. It'll cost them way more to repair it. That designer is one crazy motheryouknowwhat."
Cameron laughed a little. "That would make a good prank. House's office maybe?"
"He wouldn't notice. Actually, he'd like the changes. There are a few relatives I could easily do that to. I'd actually like to box Jamal in."
They sat quietly for a long time, watching these normal people be rather inept at home improvement and then cry in horror over the end result. After a while, Cameron surmised watching paint dry would be more fun. "You've been watching this all morning?"
"Uh huh. Eric is so in trouble. I'm ready to paint the whole house now."
"I think I'd rather go back to bed."
"Oh no you don't. I've got instructions. You need to eat something."
Cameron turned a little green at the idea. Granted the medication was preventing her nausea, but she didn't have an appetite yet. "I'm not hungry."
"I'm not your momma. Don't make me shove something down your throat."
"I may not be getting sick anymore, but everything sounds repulsive."
"Don't worry; I did research on the expecting moms forums. I've got everything under control."
Pamela disappeared into the kitchen for five minutes. Cameron heard the clanging of a plate on the counter and the ripping sounds of various boxes and packages. Eventually Pamela re-emerged holding in her hands a huge plate of goodies and a smile.
"This is your idea of me eating something?"
"According to the forum, this is the one time in your life you can have reckless abandon with food. I have only the best here. Chocolate macaroons, Lorna Doones, bonbons, Oreos, chocolate peanut butter chunk cookies, Twinkies, Hohos, and Little Debbie cakes. The best possible feast for any pregnant woman."
"You aren't pregnant, so is this all for me?"
"Are you kidding? It would be rude of me to not join in. I'll have just one."
Cameron carefully examined the plate and shrugged, now seeing the logic. "Anything with peanut butter in it gives me protein." She grabbed a chocolate peanut butter chunk cookie and tore into it. "My God, this tastes like filet mignon." She promptly had a few more.
"Hmm, let me try." Pamela devoured hers and quickly went for a Hoho next.
"I thought you were having just one?" Cameron asked.
"That's right. One of each."
Cameron shook her head laughing while they continued to shovel in goodies at an alarming rate. "So this is lunch?"
"This, no, this is just the appetizer. The real lunch is in the kitchen. Lots of calcium for your baby's needs."
"What are we having?"
"Ben and Jerry's."
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Cameron tried her best to maintain complete and total concentration, but that was getting too hard. The hormonal surge was largely responsible for the foggy state of mind lately. "Why are we doing this?"
"It's on the list."
"What list?"
"Things to do on a rainy day."
Cameron looked out the living room window, admiring the bright sunny day that she was otherwise missing. "It's not raining."
"Sure it is. It's raining pregnant women on bed rest."
Cameron rolled her eyes and went back to struggling with the basic concepts of what she was doing. She couldn't believe she was actually being put through this.
"Haven't you ever made a house of cards before?"
"No, I've only played them."
"What games?"
"Solitaire." Cameron let her arm jostle just a little and the collection of cards fell onto the table.
Pamela laughed. "You see, it's not as easy as it looks."
Cameron got up, leaving the cards behind. "Give me that list. I'm picking next." Pamela handed her the list as requested and she mulled over the choices. "Indoor basketball?"
Pamela gave her a quick and easy demonstration. She took a piece of paper, balled it up, and with a decent hook shot sailed it into the trashcan.
"I see. What else do we have? Blow bubbles?"
Pamela pulled out the package of bubble liquid from her large bag. Cameron decided that was a no.
"Grass topped friend?"
"I ain't getting out all the stuff needed to demonstrate that."
"Truth or dare? Are we twelve?"
"Adults can be raunchier. We need Robert and Eric for my version."
Cameron shook off any quick and wrong idea that entered her head. "I won't ask. Okay, here's one. What's in the bag?"
"I'll warn you now. My version can get pretty gross. When Jamal and I would play this, it was our job to see who could make the other one puke first."
"I'm a doctor. How gross can it be?"
About 20 minutes later Pamela stood outside the bathroom door feeling very guilty. "I'm sorry Allison. The last thing I should be doing is making someone with Hypermesis gag."
She emerged from the bathroom looking a lot better than when she rushed in. "It's okay, I only threw up in my mouth a little. Who won this game more, you or Jamal?"
"It was a draw. We both knew each other's triggers."
"I'll say. I'm better off with the card house. Plus I need another cookie."
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"Hey baby, how was your day?" Pamela gave Foreman a huge kiss as he came off a rather quiet day at work.
"Nice actually," he answered. "When you are the only one there, you get a lot done. The highlight was Cuddy and Wilson looking rather cozy in the cafeteria. That will dominate the Monday gossip."
Foreman looked around the apartment scattered with items. "You brought the rainy day list?"
"Yeah, it was great. I wore Allison out though. She's been asleep for over an hour. You bring the films?"
"Yep, and the other stuff too. Evening entertainment is all set. Let's watch TV. They've got satellite with HD. We could put on some basketball."
"Oh, I've got something better." She pointed to the same marathon she was watching earlier. "You think our living room would look dazzling in bright red with a black accent wall?"
Foreman's bugged out glare easily indicated that his wife had lost her mind. "Only if we lived in hell."
Cameron sleepily emerged from the bedroom. She had been partially awake for a few minutes, but the sound of voices was her cue to appear. Her jaw dropped by what she saw on the TV. "Are they supposed to be living in hell?"
"You see, she gets it!" Foreman shouted to his wife. He grabbed the remote, put on the Pistons and Pacers in full HD and sat down very contented.
Pamela threw him a gaze of disdain, which he completely ignored. She waved him off as an ignoramus. "Here," she said to Cameron handing her a few take out menus. "You need to pick out a real dinner. No side salads are allowed."
"You can't win friends with salad." Foreman said while never taking his eyes off the game.
"Shut up." Pamela abruptly responded and turned back to Cameron. "Anything you want I can go fetch."
Cameron mulled over her choices, most of which turned her stomach sour. She tried not to make faces of repulsion since Pamela was watching over her like a mother hen, but she couldn't help it. Finally, the ideal item was spotted. "I'll have the Big Momma."
Pamela grabbed the menu. The selected item came from the local sub shop. "You want the 1 lb meatball sub?"
"With extra cheese and sauce please."
Pamela was unsure what a good idea that would be, but complied. "I suppose you are eating for two. Eric, what do you want from the sub shop?"
"I'll have what she's having," he said brushing off the question. The Pistons were on a ten-point run.
"You want a Big Momma too?"
Now she managed to get Foreman's attention. "She's getting what?" He shook off the heebeegeebees from thinking anyone could eat that. "No, I'll have a turkey club."
Pamela grabbed her purse. "I'm obviously in charge of fetching. Be back soon."
Cameron took her place next to Foreman on the couch. She watched the game with both curiosity and confusion. "Isn't Chicago playing?"
"They suck. They only like to show the good teams for nationally televised games."
"Since when is Detroit better than Chicago?"
"Since the 90's ended. What do you and Chase actually watch on this thing?"
"Soccer and Cricket. You wouldn't believe how intense the Ashes matches are. I root for the Brits just to be antagonistic."
Foreman shook his head in disbelief. "Remind me to slap Chase when he gets home. Live in this country, watch our sports."
"No, the Aussies are funny. It's interesting to watch an entire nation get drunk over a match and go excessively hog wild over such things as a sticky wicket."
Foreman looked over to see Cameron smiling. He figured out she was playing with him. "Seriously, does he make you watch that stuff?"
"Sure, but I'll put baseball or football on sometimes. It's the compromise that makes our marriage work."
"But you don't follow basketball?"
Cameron shook her head.
"You two are still hopeless then."
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Foreman and Pamela stared in utter horror, unable to fathom what they were witnessing. Pamela actually shuddered because it was too much to bear, but then contained her composure enough to continue watching the spectacle.
Cameron continued unaware to the show she was putting on as she polished off the Big Momma sub. As she took the very last satisfying bite, she finally became cognizant that she had attracted an audience. "What?" she asked although her question was muffled by her still loaded mouth.
Both of them shook off their expressions, not wanting to go through this ordeal any longer. "Ready for movie night?" Pamela asked Foreman.
"Yep, I'll get the props."
Cameron was too afraid to ask about the last comment, maybe because her stomach was still negotiating over the meatball sub. "Movie night? What are we watching?"
"Eric wanted Blaxploitation films, I wanted classic alien films so lucky for you we're doing both!"
"Joy," Cameron said sarcastically. That meatball sub won't sit right for sure now.
Foreman came back with the big bag and pulled out three wigs and three sets of sunglasses.
"Afros? Bug eye sunglasses? What are we watching?"
"Cleopatra Jones." Foreman proudly said holding up the DVD.
Pamela was displeased. "I thought we were watching Foxy Brown?"
"I changed my mind." They proceeded to put on their wigs and glasses while a dumbfounded Cameron stared at them.
"Put on your wig and glasses," Pamela instructed with firmness.
"Uh, aren't I a bit too white for this?"
"Are you mocking my people?" Pamela said now in full costume with hand on her hips.
Cameron broke down in laughter at the sight. "No Cleopatra. I don't want to cross you." She put on her wig and glasses, now looking every bit as ridiculous as the other two.
"It's Showtime." Foreman announced after he put the DVD into the player. They all sat in a row on the couch, looking like they fell into strange time warp that went terribly wrong.
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The sound of the front door lock being opened was all Cameron needed. She bolted off the couch and jumped into Chase's arms before he could even get through the door. "Hold me." She said with pleading desperation.
Needless to say, the sight he was subjected to was rather disconcerting. "Have we been invaded?"
Cameron looked upward, remembering the ridiculous item on the top of her head. She ripped it off with quick fury. Enough was enough.
"Why are you all wearing tin foil hats?" Chase could have never expected coming home to this.
"So the aliens don't control our thoughts. Don't you know what they are for?" Pamela harangued.
"Help me Robert. These crazy people have held me in our home all day against my will and made me do foolish things. I'm frightened." She clutched onto him tighter.
"I see that." He glanced at the TV still in complete confusion over the abrupt nature of his homecoming. "Plan 9 From Outer Space? Why is the sound off?"
"They are making up their own dialogue. Please, kill me." Cameron begged.
Chase looked at Pamela and Foreman's guilty faces, and then busted out laughing. "Can I play?"
Pamela got up off the couch. "Sure, but I need to make you a hat first."
Chase joined Foreman on the couch. Cameron had enough. "I give up. I'm going to bed. Foreman, thank your wife for completely throwing off my day."
"Oh, she's coming back tomorrow. Something about home pedicures and braiding each other's hair."
Cameron rolled her eyes again. It had grown to be a bad habit on this day. "This is your fault," she said pointing to Chase. "You did this to me."
"Goodnight dear." Chase said trying to be sweet, but he was interrupted by the delivery of his tin foil hat.
She slinked into the bedroom unnoticed. They were getting to the best part of the film and were too focused on building crafty lines. That and making sure the aliens weren't reading their thoughts.
a/n: It's yet another gold star to whoever spots the Simpsons reference. This one isn't so obvious. so it will be two gold stars. As usual, reviews welcome, even constructive concrit.