Chapter 2
It was dinner time by the time Brock returned from the gym, and from the moment he returned home, he could tell something was bothering Misty. Rose had spent most of the afternoon, getting to know her granddaughter, who was slowly warming up to her, making macaroni necklaces together at the kitchen table, but Misty was quiet. Eevee waited eagerly underneath her for her to drop something.
He removed his jacket and slug it over the back of the couch.
"Hey babe," he embraced her from behind and kissed her cheek.
"Hey," she said, flatly. Brock didn't push the issue. He had a feeling having her mother here was stressing her out more than it was making her happy.
"Daddy!" Fiona ran up to him, handing him a string with macaroni threaded onto it. "I made you a macaroni necklace!"
"You did?" He asked, mocking excitement. "Here let me try it on." He tried to slip it on over his head, but it was too small. Fiona giggled.
"How about I just get a macaroni headband?" He asked her, standing up. He looked over at Misty. "You like it? Does it make me look fat?"
Misty laughed, and Brock was relieved. Well, at least he could still make her laugh. Misty was quiet through dinner. Fiona busied herself with slipping Eevee table scraps. Brock tried his best to make conversation with Rose, which Misty could tell her mother was absolutely loving the attention she was getting from Brock.
She was even more impressed when Brock started on the dishes right away instead of heading straight into the living room to watch football.
"Do you need any help, honey?" Misty asked.
"No, I got it. You go relax. I'll even run you a bath later if you want," he winked at her, and Rose made a giddy sound of delight.
"Oh, Misty, can you please divorce this man, so that I can marry him?" She laughed, and Misty rolled her eyes.
"I have to get Fiona cleaned up and ready for bed," she mentioned casually, hopefully deterring her mother from wanting to spend any time with her. She really had no interest in building a relationship with her. She lived a quarter of a century without her, she didn't really need or want her now.
Misty made her way upstairs, with a protesting little girl trailing behind her.
"But Mommy, I'm not tired!" Fiona argued as she ascended the stairs.
"You will be after your bath," she had said, her words echoing down the staircase. Then the bathroom door closed and Brock and Rose were alone in the kitchen.
"So, how long are you in Pewter City for?" Brock asked, elbow deep in suds.
"Well, I'm not sure right now," she replied, not sure of what to say. She couldn't just come right out and ask him if she could move in here. "I'm just trying to get settled."
"Oh, I see," Brock nodded.
"Yea, I was in kind of a rough relationship," Rose sat at the kitchen island on one of the stools.
"Do you want some coffee or some tea? I usually drink a cup of coffee before bed. It helps me sleep," Brock grinned. "I know, it's weird, but..." He trailed off.
"Coffee would be great," Rose smiled. "But only if you were going to have some anyway. I don't want you to go through any extra trouble."
"No trouble at all," Brock said, preparing a pot of coffee. "So, a tough relationship? Is Misty's old man as stubborn as she is?"
Rose shook her head. "Oh, no, not Misty's father. Me and him split up a long time ago, when Misty was very little. You've never...met any of Misty's family have you?"
He shook his head. "Not really, no. I mean, I've met her sisters...and I met you today...awkwardly." They both laughed in unison.
"What do your parents think of Misty?" Rose asked curiously, watching Brock prepare the coffee and pull down two clean coffee mugs.
"They like her," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "My dad was a little iffy on her at first, seeing as she's from Cerulean City, and we're like arch rivals or something, but then again, my Mom trained water Pokemon and was from Cerulean as well, and they had 11 kids together."
"Wow," Rose's eyes were wide. "So you have a big family?"
"Huge family," Brock nodded. "My mom had 11 kids, including me. Ever since I married Misty, they've joked about us men have a weakness for those Cerulean City girls."
"Well, we are known for our beauty," she leaned forward on the counter and Brock noticed for the firt time how lowcut her shirt was.
"So, uhm," he cleared his throat and poured the coffee. "I'm just curious as to why you didn't stay at the Cerulean Gym. I mean, don't you own that place?"
Rose opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, and simply nodded, formulating her words.
"I know Misty hates me," she finally said, and Brock shook his head, handing her a cup of coffee.
"No, she doesn't hate you. She just...well, she's Misty..." he gave her a crooked grin. "She'll come around."
"She has every right to dislike me though, Brock," Rose took a sip of that Cerulean Coffee. "I haven't been there for her. I wasn't there to see her get married, to such a nice, wonderful, handsome, perfect man..." she trailed off, and looked into his eyes.
Brock felt his neck grow hot with embarassment. "Well, flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Vaughn."
She giggled. "And funny too..."
"Look, you're family. So, Misty will forgive you. And if you need a place to crash for a few days, you can crash here. I can help you get a job, maybe we can work something out," he said, and Rose gazed at him with those blue eyes, they were like the color of the ocean.
"Thank you, so much, Brock," she reached out and grabbed his hand, and she knew for sure now that she was flirting with him. Harmless flirting, as he was happily married and very committed to his wife, and Rose was just an attractive older woman who knew how to lay on the charm, but it was still flirting and he wasn't sure how Misty would see it.
"And please call me Rose," she said after a few moments. "I'm going to retire for the night. Do some reading before bed. Would you be a doll and help me bring in some luggage from the car? I have just a couple more bags out there."
"Sure," Brock said. However, what he discovered was she had several large bags. One was just completely filled with make-up, and one full of nothing but different purses. Misty emerged from the bathroom to find him hauling large bags up the staircase.
"Brock, what are you doing?" She asked, Fiona yawned and leaned against her legs as if she was going to fall asleep standing up.
"Helping your mother with her luggage," he said, pulling one large suitcase into the guest room and went down to retrieve another.
"That's...a lot of luggage," she stated, watching him struggle with two more bags into the guest room.
Rose smiled at her. "Brock said I could crash here for a while. Isn't this wonderful sweety? We can get to know eachother!"
For the first time ever -that Misty could remember- her mother embraced her. She hugged her back, hesitantly and exchanged a glance with Brock.
...
Misty sat at her vanity table, brushing her long red hair, that she just now noticed was much like her mother's. Brock emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark, bare skin glistening with the water from his shower.
"I missed you in there," he said, kissing her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she said, placing her brush down on the table.
"No, it's OK, Honey," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know it's been a weird day for you."
"Brock, I thought we were going to discuss letting her stay here," she finally spoke the words that Brock knew were coming.
"Sweetheart, look, I know you aren't thrilled that she's here, but maybe you should give her a second chance," Brock walked over to her and knelt down, looking up into her eyes. "You're a mother now. You know how much Fiona means to you, and I'm sure Rose feels the same way about you."
"I would never treat Fiona the way she treated me," Misty told him, looking back at her appearance in the mirror. Her mother used to tell her how ugly she was, and how no man would ever want her because of her boyish figure.
"You have no curves," Rose had said. "What man wants to feel like he's sleeping with a little boy? Unless you marry some kind of sick pedophile." Then she would suck on a cigarette and blow the smoke in her face.
But Misty had grown into a woman. She had gotten hips and breasts, and Brock seemed to be perpetually fascinated with her butt. And most of all, she had gotten so very pretty. Perhaps even prettier than her self-proclaimed beautiful sisters, and she had managed to marry the man of her dreams and have his baby, so her life hadn't turned out like Rose had so cruely predicted.
Brock kissed her, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"That's because you are a great mother," he said, and she smiled, kissing him back.
"Do you feel weird about having sex with my mother in the next room?" She asked, hoping her would say no.
"Hey, she's already seen us in action. It can't get much worse than that," he laughed and pulled her up, kissing her softly, and sensually. He let his towel fall to the floor, and he slipped the silk robe off of her shoulders.
"I think we should have another baby," Misty pushed him down on the bed, straddling him and smiling down at him.
"Another baby?" He asked looking up at her. "I thought you were on the pill."
"I am, but...if I stop taking it...we can try again," she let the robe fall off her shoulders, and he grinned, taking in the view appreciatively.
"We can do whatever you want," he pulled her down to him and neither of them heard the footsteps step away from the door.
...
Fiona awoke from her sleep. Not in the natural way, where one slowly comes into conciousness, but rather jerked from her sleep, violently. She always hated waking up when it was still dark out. Though she had a nightlight that lit up her room in different color stars on her ceiling, she still found the shadows in her room to be scary.
Her first instinct was to grab her stuffed Teddyursa doll and make a mad dash for her parents' bedroom. She felt safe, snuggled between them, even in their dark room, she knew nothing could get her in there. She softly made her way across the hall. Remembering that lady -the one that her mother had told her was her grandmother- Fiona looked at the guest bedroom door. It was closed and the light was off.
The hallway was pitch black, but she could still see faint light from under her parents' door. She looked behind her, into the yawning darkness of the hallway, and reached for the door handle. It was stuck...or locked. Fiona struggled with it again with her tiny hands, but it wouldn't budge. She didn't want to stay out in this dark hallway anymore, so she dashed back into her room and flipped on her light.
The light instantly vanished any shadows in her room. Smiling faces of teddybears and her Eevee settled herself at the end of the bed, her eyes open, watching Fiona, protectively. Evee had been a gift from her parents for her 4th birthday. Fiona remembered her Dad saying something about teaching her responsibility and how to raise a Pokemon, since she could one day be the leader of the Pewter City Gym.
Ever since then, Eevee had grown really attached to Fiona and has acted as a protector.
Fiona pulled down her covers again and slipped back into bed. Suddenly, Evee's ears perked up and she looked out the window. Shades were pulled down to prevent sun from entering her room too early, but it was almost as if Eevee could see through the shade and into the backyard, which who room faced.
"What is it, Eevee?" Fiona whispered, deciding that she would keep her light on the rest of the night.
Eevee pawed at the window, and Fiona lifted the shade and looked out. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. It was so black out there, it just looked like an empty abyss. She couldn't see her swing set, or the pool, or even a tree. Eevee whined again, pawing at the window.
Then Fiona heard something. A sound from down below in the backyard. It was a like a twig snapping, and the little girl pulled the covers tighter around her. Eevee got away from the window and laid right next to Fiona, pressing her tiny, furry body against Fiona's and stared at the bedroom door, daring it to open.
Fiona thought about the dark chasm of nothingness that was the hallway, and the safety of her parents bed, that she so desparately longed for, but right now, she was too scared to make the trek across the hallway. She was so terrified she could barely move.
...
An hour later, Brock lay in bed, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his skin.
"God, that was fucking incredible," he leaned over and kissed his wife, pulling her close to him as his heartbeat adjusted back to normal.
"Are you ready for round two?" Misty asked, giggling and letting herself be pulled into his warm embrace.
"I do need a recovery period," Brock told her, brushing a lock of redhair behind her ear. He noticed a look in her eyes, and he could tell something was on her mind. He was always good at reading her like that. "Something wrong, Love?"
"I just...keep thinking about Mom staying here," she said, almost hating to bring up the subject again. She really wanted to talk to him about all the dirty and naughty things he had done to her, and all the things she wanted him to do to her, but instead, her mother was at the forefront of her brain, and that was not only awkward, but inconvenient.
"Honey, I know it's hard for you, but like I said, I think she deserves a chance," he rested his head on his fist that was propped up by his elbow on the pillow.
"Did she tell you that..." she trailed off, not even sure if she should say anything to him. Her mother had went to rehab, it was in the past now, wasn't it? Right? She hesitated and Brock finally pressed her on.
"Tell me what?"
"Did she tell you what Charlie was?" She finally asked, her eyes fixed with his. "Her 'bad relationship'. Did she tell what Charlie did?"
"No," Brock shook his head. "He was a drug dealer. And he got my mom...hooked on Cocaine."
A look of shock flashed over his face, but it was gone in an instant. "Cocaine?" He asked. Misty nodded.
He sighed and rolled over on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "You know," he began, pausing for a moment. "My father was an alcoholic. A raging alcoholic. He used to come home and beat on my mother and me just because he would get stopped at one too many redlights on the way home from the bar. Or his team would lose the game. Or hell, just cuz he felt like it."
Misty rested her head on his chest.
"He got help though," Brock said. "He got help and he got better. He stopped drinking, and he stopped hitting me. I think Rose can do the same thing."
"So, you think we should let her stay here for as long as she wants?" Misty lifted her head to meet his gaze.
"I'll get her a job. She can do office work in the gym," Brock told her.
"What happened to your secretary?" Misty asked, surprised.
"Dad ran her off a few months ago," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I've been doing the finances, plus winning the battles and training. If I don't keep my Pokemon in tip top shape, I can't put food on the table or pay for this big beautiful house. So, if I have more time to train because I'm not doing books, we could possibly make more money."
"And if we have another baby..."
"Then we'll need it," he grinned and kissed her. "Everything will be fine. You know me, baby. I got this!"
A tiny knock came to their door and Brock sighed. Any chances of him getting laid a second time tonight just went right out the window.
"Why can't she ever sleep through the night?" Brock asked, sounding more frustrated than he wanted to. They quickly got dressed, and Brock unlocked and opened the door, hoping he could convince his daughter to go back to her own bed, but when he saw her standing there, clutching her stuffed Teddyursa, and Eevee by her side he knew that wouldn't be the case.
"Fiona," Misty came to the door, fastening her pink silk robe around her waist. "Why aren't you in bed? It's almost one in the morning."
"Eevee heard someone outside of my window," she said, simply, running into her mother's arms, determined never to let go. The dark hallway that was once a mysterious abyss was now lit by the bedside lamp from her parents's bedroom.
"Sweetheart, it was probably just Raticate or something," Brock said, but Fiona shook her head.
"I'm scared, Daddy," she looked up at him, with those sad puppy dog eyes and he finally closed the door behind him.
"Alright, you can sleep in here," he said, inviting Eevee to jump on the bed, and she settled down in a nice comfy spot by his feet, pressing her body against his so that he hardly had any leg room. Fiona settled in between them, sharing a pillow with her mother and jamming her feet into Brock's lower back.
The things you go through for your kids, Brock thought, as he finally drifted off to sleep.