Chapter Four "Stonewall"

"I'm surprised you actually have another pair of clothes," teased Judy. "Here I thought you owned nothing but those gaudy green shirts and your police blues."

Maybe it was a mistake to try to dress for success. But I wasn't going to take any chances. Even with Judy and her siblings hovering over me, mocking my taste in fashion.

I had abandoned my casual greens for something more festive, given the autumn season. I was sporting a black sleeveless undershirt topped by a maroon sweater with an open collar and the sleeves rolled up. Instead of slacks, I had on simple jeans. I figured giving myself a more rustic look would slightly appeal to the down-to-earth Hopps.

Judy had absolutely no right to criticise me, given she had spent an hour in the shower to groom herself before facing her mom and dad. I think she had the same thing in mind as me, after her entire family's reaction to me so far.

Come on, Carrots. You really thought your folks wouldn't go crazy when you brought a fox home with you? Even if we had very different motivations, I could tell that we both wanted her parents to at least accept me.

We were all sitting at the front porch; me, Judy, Pop-Pop, and a few members of the bunny legion.

I quickly learned that there wasn't much to do out in the sticks that didn't involve going outside. Not that I was complaining. The view was beautiful over the farm as the sun got low in the sky for the early evening. The distant sound of tractors winding down for the day made for a rhythmic beat over the farmlands. Leaves were falling, but not enough that it was time to start raking them up. It was the perfect lull between the dog days of summer and the depressing grey of late fall. Judy's company made it better, though having about eight of her siblings taking turns tugging my tail somewhat soured the mood. The others were winding down in their play. I guess even the Energizer Bunny runs out of fuel sometime.

Not that I could blame them. Having only had water that day, I was famished.

My manners prevented me from complaining about the growing void in my stomach. It was a weird chivalrous feeling I often got whenever I was a guest at someone's home. No matter how hungry I was, I would never ask for food. It just always felt like stealing and I never needed more ammunition against me for being a fox.

"It's not too late," I said, both for myself and Judy. "We can run for the train station before they get here."

"That depends. Are you that nervous about meeting my parents?"

"Maybe," I glanced to Pop-Pop, passed out on his rocking chair behind us. "We dodged a bullet with General Hare there. I don't think your parents are going to buy the same story unless I get an ear extension and dye my fur grey."

"It'll be fine. It'll be fine."

"They say if you keep telling yourself something, that will eventually make it true. So, by all means, continue that chant, Carrots. For both our sakes."

Judy let out a sharp breath through her nose as her ears lowered ever so slightly.

I glanced to what she was staring at out on the horizon and saw a large cloud of dirt coming down the road.

Show time.

Her parents pulled up in a vehicle nearly identical to the one we came in on. The biggest difference was the larger space in the back for storage of tools and fertilizer. This also gave room for passengers, and I noticed one rabbit hanging out in the back.

I recognized the darker fur of the bunny we had met that afternoon. Judy's sister, Jenny. And she did not look happy.

Ho boy…

The trend of disgruntled rabbits continued when Judy's mother stepped out of the car.

Bonnie was her name, if I remembered Judy's stories. She was absolutely Judy's mother, from the eyes to the face. Give Judy about thirty years and they would practically be twins. That only made the sour expression of simmering rage that much more painful to look at.

Something bad had definitely happened on that car ride.

Judy's dad, Stu, was about what I expected him to look like. In Zootopia, we had a saying for folks like him. Easy money.

The poor rabbit looked lost, even on his own farm. He was standing between his wife and Jenny, perhaps trying to act as a buffer. It was clear the two females in his party had some ire with each other. He was the first to notice us sitting at the entrance. I recognized a brief look of fear when he glanced at me, but that melted away in an instant as Judy ran up to hug him.

"Hi, dad. Hi, mom. I'm home."

Mrs. Hopps joined in the embrace while Jenny continued walking to burrow.

Jenny strode past me with her head hung low and wouldn't even acknowledge me. The front door slammed with a sickening crunch. That did not bode well.

All of a sudden, my mind jumped to the worst conclusions.

Did the Hopps interrogate Jen when they heard I was coming to visit? Did she spill the beans about figuring out my crush on Judy? Without sharing any spoken words it was hard to be certain, but my tail was starting to get bushy from the building drama beneath the surface.

Judy must have sensed it too. "What's wrong?"

"Ask your father."

Being put on the spot, Mr. Hopps looked like he had been cornered by a rabid predator. Given the look his wife was giving him, I would have preferred the rabid predator. He swallowed and stammered on where to begin.

"Well, Jude, sometimes...Sometimes there's no helping who you fall in love with."

My ears dropped instantly.

"Oh, Stu," sighed Bonnie. "You sound like you're giving her the talk about the birds and the bees."

"W-Well, Bon, I was trying to ease into it!"

"Ease into what?" Judy was still missing the tense subtext. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Jenny is dating a raccoon. And last night, he proposed to her. She said yes."

I breathed a sigh of relief. But Judy was looking more confused than ever as she slowly processed Jenny's elopement.

"Wait, who? When? Jenny has been dating a raccoon?"

"Rocco Larrs," replied her mother. "Apparently, the two have been dating behind our back for the last six months."

"Rocco Larrs," Judy's brow wrinkled as it did whenever she was trying to remember something. "You mean Rocky? That little scumbag used to bully me with Gideon back when I was a kit."

"We know. Gideon is the one who told us about it."

"What does she even see in him? That raccoon was such a jerk to everyone."

"Well, Jude," spoke her father. "Sometimes mammals can change."

"Yeah, right. That raccoon is probably just as slimy as the day I met him. Some mammals never, ever change."

I winced a little at that comment. I guess Judy had forgotten I was standing a few feet behind her.

After a few deep breaths, Judy calmed herself down and let out a big sigh.

"Fine. She's a big girl and she can decide for herself what she wants to do with her life. Even if I don't agree with it."

"That's not the end of it," snapped her mother. "She went behind our backs with this raccoon and we haven't even gotten the chance to meet him yet. Now she wants to marry him? It's too soon for such nonsense. And I've heard horrible things about this Rocky fellow."

"Bon…"

Mr. Hopps seemed to be the only one who realized I was still present, listening in on their intense conversation.

The other kits were all poking their heads out behind me, using me as a shield while their mommy and daddy bickered. Why did I have to be the adult in this situation?

Mrs. Hopps finally noticed there was a fox standing amongst her children and she cleared her throat. Her scowling demeanor was masked by a warm smile, but I had seen just what lurked beneath the surface. There was an angry, angry bunny waiting for me if I put one claw out of line. If there was one thing I learned from hustling, you never wanted to tick off an indignant mother. It would be the last thing you ever did.

"Sorry, about that," Bonnie said with a pleasant southern drawl to her voice. "We shouldn't be arguing about family matters in front of guests."

I gave a nervous chuckle. "It's quite alright. That's just a hard act to follow up."

Mrs. Hopps didn't get my dumb joke by her vacant stare. I realized I was the only one who found it funny and cleared my throat.

Time to switch gears, Nick. Playful banter isn't going to win you any favors with this crowd.

"Nick Wilde," I said, extending my paw. "Your daughter's police partner."

"Bonnie Hopps," she replied, hesitantly taking two of my fingers and shaking. "We've heard quite a lot about you, Mr. Wilde."

"Good things, I hope? And, please, call me Nick."

Though Bonnie had the presentation of politeness in her posture, her eyes screamed distrust and caution. It was a look I knew all too well whenever I was around other mammals in the city, during my con days. She was waiting for me to do something wrong just to say 'I told you so, he's a fox.'

I continued to smile. Never let them see they get to you.

Mr. Hopps was more obvious in his nervousness as he approached me. He fiddled with his paws before offering them to me to shake.

"Stu Hopps. Nice to meet you, Nick."

You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

I lingered shaking Stu's paw while there was an awkward silence playing as ambient music. I almost would have preferred it if the pair had come at me screaming profanities. That was easier to deal with than silent distrust and concern.

I was lucky to have Judy back me up. "So, dinner?"

"After today, I'm really not in the mood for cooking, Judy," replied her mother. "Do you mind if we just order pizza instead?"

The little ones hanging around my tail could no longer keep quiet at the mention of delicious takeout.

My ears were filled with the high pitched cheer of "Pizza!" This resulted in a literal stampede through the front door, awakening the sleeping Pop-Pop. Mrs. Hopps collected her father before following her children.

As the Hopps piled into the burrow, I lingered behind to whisper my thanks to Judy.

"They aren't that bad, are they?" she asked as we followed her family into the burrow.

"Carrots, I would rather matador for a savage Bogo than be left alone a minute with your mother. Those eyes…"

"They stare into your soul?"

"I can see where you get it from now."

She just laughed and showed me inside. Despite every instinct I had screaming to get as far away from the house as possible, I followed her into the rabbit's den.

It was going to be a long, awkward dinner.

With the burrow filled, I could see why the Hopps needed so much space in their living room.

Every corner was exploding with some sort of activity, be it coloring in books or playing games on the giant television. I suppose if there was ever such a thing as organized chaos, I was looking at it.

While the children played, I joined the older rabbits in sitting quietly around the couches.

Bonnie went to the kitchen, preparing drinks for us. Stu impatiently kicked at his seat, like he had a nervous twitch, sharing an occasional glance at me and then Judy. Pop-Pop continued his trend of napping whenever no one was talking to him.

"So," I said in an attempt to reach out to the bumbling bunny. "Where are the other Hopps?"

Stu didn't realize that I was addressing him and he fumbled his words.

"Oh! Uh...They work the fields all day. Afterwards, we let them do what they want. Since there's not much entertainment on the farm, they usually head out to the town square for the night."

"Funny," said Judy. "I remember having a hard time convincing you guys to let us stay out after dark."

"Well, Jude. After you left for Zootopia, and Jacky disappeared in Clawnanda, we were hard pressed to deny the next generation a looser grip. Despite what opinions your mom has on the matter."

"What? They ganged up on you?"

"Karoline and Micken made some...Strong points. And we're getting old, Jude. It's getting to be trouble just watching thirty of the kits all day. Heck, I don't know how much longer we can keep the Hopps Harvest going on our own. That's why we were grateful you were coming home."

I sensed a moment to jump into the conversation and earn some much needed points with Judy's folks.

"We'd be happy to help set up the festival," I smiled at Stu. "I'm a little sparse on the details though. And I don't know much about country fairs."

It was an easy opening. If there was one thing I knew about mammals it was that they loved to talk about themselves. Judy's father took the bait and changed his tune almost instantly.

"That's right...Judy said you've never been to the sticks before. You're in for a real treat then. The Harvest is second only to the Carrot Day Festival, and even then I argue that it has better food and more rides. It's been a tradition of mine for the last twenty years, once our family started to grow. All the Hopps from around the tri-burrow come together and catch up. There are the activities and food too. Oh, crackers, the food…"

Judging by his gut, Stu was a foodie. His hungry look was doing nothing to ease my own angry stomach. If that pizza didn't come here soon, my foxy instincts were going to be a real threat to this den of rabbits.

"So," I had to distract my belly. "You run it all on your own?"

"Well, the town helps in anyway they can and everyone is invited. This year, Gid and his sister were going to help take care of the desserts with their pie business."

"Isn't that the fox that clawed you, Carrots?"

Another little tidbit I had remembered from our many lunches together. Judy displayed the clear signs of discomfort with the subject by unconsciously reaching for her left cheek.

"Yeah...He's turned over a new leaf though. I wouldn't say we're cool, exactly. We barely made up before I left the last time. And that was months ago. He's been good with my parents though."

"Better than good," her dad chuckled, sticking his thumbs through his overall straps. "That boy makes the best dang pie for a hundred miles. Business has been booming with him as our partner."

A sudden realization clicked in Judy's head.

"And you're certain none of that success could possibly have to do with having your daughter's face on your merchandise?"

I couldn't help myself to join in on the accusation. "Not to mention the bunny butt cake."

My added commentary caused both rabbits to blush, though it was Stu who was suffering the brunt of the embarrassment. He avoided eye contact with Judy as he attempted to explain himself. I almost felt bad for him.

"W-Well, you see, Jude. You're something of an inspiration to the youngins around here. It started as a fun idea that Gideon had when you solved your Nighthowler case and...Well...It just sort of exploded from there. Customers loved it."

"It wouldn't bother me if you just asked first. Do you have any idea how much trouble everyone back at the precinct would give me if they discovered those things?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her I was going to have a batch shipped to me as soon as we got back to Zootopia.

"Well, Jude, you can take it up with Gid tomorrow. He makes the things. We just sell them. Just go easy on him. He's a good fox."

"Jeez, dad. You make it sound like you're protecting your true born son. What? Are you going to give the farm to him when you retire?"

"Actually…"

"Don't even think about it, Stuart Hopps," Mrs. Hopps came in from behind with her tray of drinks.

"Aw, come on, Bon. The boy has a gift for the marketing side of business. At the very least, he'd be an excellent partner for Adam or Alfred when they inherit the farm."

"This is not a discussion for right now, honey."

My tail was starting to get bushy again.

Things had been going so well until Bonnie came in and somehow sucked the joy out of the conversation. The three of us shifted awkwardly in our seats with our drinks as Bonnie took the chair next to her father. Though she didn't so much as glance at me, I got the impression that was an unspoken contempt towards the only fox in the room.

I downed the water she had provided, trying to find the right words to make some sort of headway with the bunny, much in the way I had her husband.

I just needed one little hint of her good side to make an impact.

Think Nick. How how you approach a southern rabbit's wife? What did I even really know about Bonnie from the stories Judy told me?

"So, Mrs. Hopps," I said, grabbing everyone's attention. "Judy told me your father owned the local mines in Bunnyburrow. I don't recall the burrows ever being famous for mining."

Good job, Nick. Nice safe topic. Family history. Everyone likes to talk about themselves and the Hopps looked to be a family-oriented bunch.

But then why was Mrs. Hopps giving me a scowl as soon as I mentioned the mine?

"Mr. Wilde, the mine was closed down for health reasons, but not before a gas leak addled my father's brain."

Smooth Nick. Real smooth.

Next to me, Judy was cringing with regret over not warning me about the subject matter. Dumb fox.

"Uh, sorry to hear that...We spoke with him briefly when we came here. He seems like a nice rabbit."

Bonnie raised an eye at me.

"No offense, Mr. Wilde, but my father has hated foxes since his fox partner in business went back on a deal with him. I find that very hard to believe he would be open to conversation with you."

"Well, uh, what can I say? I can be very charming."

"My father also suffers from very dangerous delusional episodes where, around new mammals, he can believe he's somewhere he's not. Even hurt himself. You didn't lie to him about anything, did you?"

Somewhere in the distance, old Nick was laughing at me.

"No...Of course not."

"That's good. We're very protective of him."

I regretted even broaching any sort of topic with Bonnie.

She was like a stone wall, cold and impenetrable to crack. I don't even think I could get her to smirk and I was completely out of my element.

I glanced to Judy, practically begging her to help me out of the hole I had dug myself into. Both she and her father were turning to their drinks. Some help they were. But I couldn't exactly blame them either...

It came as a surprise when Bonnie turned the conversation onto me next.

"So, Mr. Wilde. Judy says you've lived in the city your whole life."

She was giving me a lifesaver. It may have been a trap full of angry bees, but I had to take it.

"Uh, yes, ma'am. This is my first time really outside of Zootopia."

"How does one make a living in Zootopia?"

"Oh...Just odd jobs, here and there."

"Like being a carpet salesmen and an ice cream man?"

It was getting hard to keep track of all the lies. "Yeah…?"

"And how old did you say you were?"

"Thirty two...Thirty three in spring."

"So, Mr. Wilde. For thirty two years, let's say you started working at fifteen, you've been making business just fine on your own going from job to job?"

"That's fair to say...Yes."

"Then my daughter comes along. And suddenly, you drop your entire career, what you've known your whole life, in favor of becoming a police officer? Just like that?"

Though Judy was struggling to interpret the meaning of her mother's words, I understood exactly what Bonnie was getting at.

The cold disposition to me had entirely to do with Jenny and her fiancé. Her older daughter had gone behind her back to be with a raccoon Bonnie didn't trust. Then a fox with the shady city background was trying to get close to Judy. I got the message loud and clear.

If you try to do anything with my daughter, you'll have to go through me first.

"...Yes, ma'am."

"Very interesting. I wonder, how long you plan on keeping this job then?"

I breathed heavily through my nose. "If I can help it, for a good while."

"Well, I hope you do."

I was saved by the doorbell.

Never in my life had I been so glad to hear the sound of a pizza delivery mammal. Bonnie maintained a pleasant smile as she rose to answer the door. Stu shared a pitying glance to me. He probably had an inkling of what Bonnie's ire towards me meant. Judy, however, had been kept in the dark.

She leaned close to my ear and whispered.

"Nick, what was all that about?"

"Don't worry about it, Fluff."

Judy really wanted all of us to get along, but I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth yet. Not while her mother was on a warpath with me.

It was the worst kind of aggression. Subtle and under the surface.

I've said it before. Blatant specist comments I can take. You can laugh about them and win by default. But there was nothing worse than killing someone with politeness. And I don't think there's anyone quite so tenacious as a mother protecting her children.

Vegetable pizza was served to us, but I wasn't very hungry anymore.

My mind was more preoccupied with how to mend the bridge between me and Bonnie.