A.N.: I kinda got in a weird mood when writing this chapter—you know when you're agitated for no reason and just want to scream really loud to make it go away? And you think about all the arguments you've had when you haven't found a comeback and you get really frustrated?


Rose Amongst Thorns

Chapter Seventeen

Tantrums


Thursday afternoon was manic. School was okay; Rose was only tripped up by Hailey once during cross-country training, because Rose outstripped her. It was when she got home that things got crazy.

Evan had some of his buddies from the lacrosse team over, as well as Darnell Wilcox and Jake Salvatore, who'd gotten a ride over to the McGowans' house in Evan's car because he was working on his bike.

Ian had just had his brand-new braces put on earlier in the day and Caleb had accidentally socked him one in the mouth when they were rough-housing in the backyard, so Sean had driven him to the hospital to have him checked out because there was blood everywhere. Caleb was nursing a huge bruise to the chest where Ian had punched him in pain-hazed retaliation, and had cried in Rose's arms for twenty minutes before he'd calmed himself down enough to scarf down about ten cookies.

Finn had some of his artsy friends over and they were all down in the den playing Xbox or whatever. Miller was watching the game he had TiVo-d in the kitchen because Evan and his buddies had taken the living-room, watching a movie and making a huge mess with potato chips and popcorn. Doug was apparently at a friend's house, but nobody had heard anything from him. Rose took it as normal that anyone could just leave the house whenever and nobody would ask questions. There were so many people, one kid wouldn't be missed, which was sad.

Rose sat doing her homework in the kitchen, Miller doing the same, when the doorbell rang. Being in a house full of guys who blasted their music and screamed at each other down in the den over a stolen baseball cap or whose turn it was on the Xbox, Rose waited a few seconds to see if anyone would go and get the door—and when the bell rang again, Finn emerged into the kitchen.

"Hey. Someone just pulled up in our driveway," Finn said, uncapping a Gatorade and draining half the drink.

"Who?" Rose asked.

"I don't know, but he looked angry," he said. Rose followed him to the door when the bell rang again, and opened it. A guy perhaps Evan's age or maybe a little older stood glowering in the porch, muscled and dark-skinned, and he might have been good-looking if he wasn't scowling.

"McGowan?"

"It's possible. How can I help you?" Finn asked politely.

"I'm Miguel Duvall, Jorge's brother," the guy said, scowling.

"Hey! That's the kid who beat up Caleb," Rose said, stepping up beside Finn.

"That's not how I heard it—my kid brother came home with a fat lip today, said if he didn't bring two Ding Dongs to your brother tomorrow, he's gonna get it again," Miguel said to Finn, scowling deeper.

"Hold on—you're saying Caleb's been beating up your brother?" Rose asked, frowning. That didn't sound right—for one, Caleb was half her size, and she was tiny, and the only way he could bloody a lip was if there were metal contraptions involved like brand-new braces.

"That's not right—Caleb came home with a black eye yesterday," Finn frowned. Rose went to the stairs and shouted up; "Caleb—can you come downstairs, please?" They heard Caleb's telltale clomping run, and the little boy appeared at the top of stairs, leapt onto the banister and slid down into Finn's arms; he deposited his baby brother on the floor.

"Yeah?" Caleb smiled and latched on to Rose's leg.

"This is the kid?" Miguel stared, perplexed, at little Caleb. Caleb was a very young six-year-old, Rose knew it. He was very small, and very adorable with his white-blonde curls and enormous navy-blue eyes.

"Caleb, um, this is Jorge Duvall's brother," Rose said, gesturing to Miguel Duvall. Caleb's eyes widened when he looked at Miguel's bulging muscles.

"Uh-oh," he said contritely, tucking his face against Rose's leg.

"He says you've been beating up Jorge," Finn said, frowning down at Caleb, paint-splattered hands on his hips. "Is it true?"

"Hold on, hold on, something's not right—Jorge can tear this kid apart," Miguel said, staring at Caleb.

"Caleb, what's going on?" Rose asked quietly. Caleb pressed his face harder against her leg. "Caleb?"

"Jorge was picking on me," Caleb said quietly. "So I got someone else to pick on Jorge."

"What do you mean?"

"I hired a bodyguard," Caleb said innocently. "It costs me one Ding Dong every day."

"The infamous hired bodyguard defence," Finn said, smiling.

"I don't buy it—why wouldn't Jorge just tell me about this bodyguard?" Miguel asked.

"Hold on—Caleb, who's your bodyguard?" Finn asked.

"Annalisa Dettweiler," Caleb said, and Finn's eyebrows rose.

"Oh. Well, enough said," he shuddered. Rose wondered what kind of elementary-school girl could make a sixteen (maybe seventeen) year old kid shudder.

"That is one twisted kid brother you got there," Miguel said, pointing at Caleb.

"He's not twisted—he's just trying to protect himself," Rose said, frowning. "Your brother started the whole thing giving Caleb a black eye." Miguel Duvall scowled down at Caleb.

"I want you to call this off," he said darkly. Rose hugged Caleb to her.

"He'll do no such thing until your bully of a brother lays off," Rose said coolly. "You call Jorge off."

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Miguel growled.

"Hey, settle down," Finn glowered, "or I'll give Rosie a donut to kick your butt." Miguel glanced from Finn to Rose, who was glaring and hugging Caleb to her, to Caleb.

"Fine. I'll talk to Jorge," he spat out. "I'm outta here." Finn half-slammed the door behind Miguel, and they heard his car squeal out onto the road. Finn whirled around, grinning.

"Alright, Einstein!" he laughed, offering his palm to Caleb for a high-five.

"Finn, don't encourage him," Rose said disbelievingly. She couldn't understand the male ego and need for physical altercations to settle a dispute.

"He's a genius!"

"He's an extortionist," Rose corrected. She glanced down at Caleb. "So, am I buying Ding Dongs for Annalisa Dettweiler instead of Jorge now?"

"No," Caleb said, releasing her leg. "I told Jorge I'd call Annalisa off if he gave me two Ding Dongs every day. I give one to Annalisa and eat the other one. It doesn't cost you or Mommy anything."

Rose stared down at Caleb, and then caught Finn's eye. He looked similarly stunned by the sheer brilliance of it. "He is a genius," she said breathlessly, eyeing Caleb warily. Finn chuckled and went back down into the basement.

"After you, Godfather," Rose said, stepping aside so Caleb could walk into the kitchen before her. He strutted off, looking smug, and began raiding the pantry as Rose answered the phone. Do I have to do everything around here? she wondered, hearing the buzzer alarm for the washing-machine to signal the end of the cycle.

"McGowan residence," Rose said politely. "Hi, Regina!"

"Hey Rosie. Wow. It sounds manic there," Regina said. Rose rolled her eyes; she had no idea. "I just called to check in; I'm gonna be held back at work; I've got a bunch of stuff to do." So Rose told her what her horde of devils was up to, about Caleb hiring Annalisa Dettweiler as a bodyguard and Ian being taken to the E.R. with a bloody mouth, Evan and Finn having their friends over, Doug being at one of his friend's houses, and John not being home yet.

"Oh, I forgot, it's Thursday," Regina sighed, sounding pained. "Evan's friends usually come over for a big pasta-feed on Thursdays. And nobody's there to cook."

"I can cook," Rose said quietly.

"You cooked yesterday, Rose, and Saturday," Regina reminded her. "Can you ask Finn to cook? There's enough stuff in the fridge to make a big batch of pasta for you all."

"Okay," Rose said. "What time do you think John will be home?"

"Maybe eight," Regina said. "Thursdays are his busiest days for some reason. I shouldn't be too late, but I don't want the kids to get hungry."

"Shall I save you and John something?" Rose asked.

"No, thank you, sweetie; I'll call John and have him bring some take-out home for us," Regina said.

"Okay, well, we'll see you later, then," Rose said; she and Regina hung up.


Rose had already had to clean up the mess that was the trail of Ian's blood coming in from the backyard after Caleb had slugged him accidentally while they played WWE Wrestling, and now she looked around the kitchen and saw what a mess Regina had to deal with every time her sons had even only a few friends over for the afternoon. Everything was in chaos; Miller kept everything organised in height-order, of course, but there were empty Gatorade bottles and chip packets and cookie boxes and candy wrappers everywhere, shoes thrown everywhere, muddy footprints where shoes hadn't been taken off, backpacks thrown everywhere; she had the laundry-room working overtime to clean sports uniforms for Friday and the weekend. The fridge was almost empty and they were almost out of snacks and Gatorades in the pantry. She wondered how the hell Regina managed to find the time to do the grocery shopping when she was held up at work and all of her sons were looking out for number one.

Well, almost all of her sons; Miller and Caleb were now playing Go Fish at the island, after Miller had helped teach Caleb how to do his math homework.

"That was your Mom," Rose said, glancing at Miller. "She's gonna be held up at work again. She said to ask Finn to cook some pasta…"

She and Finn hadn't really spoken since that night when she'd been lying in his lap and kissing him. They had chatted during dinner and shared a giggle over Caleb's Hailey-Rose breast comparison, had swum in the same lane during gym and shared some snacks during Art, but that was it. And now he had his friends over and she might have to watch Supernatural alone in the kitchen, which had panoramic windows that were dark by the time her TV show would start, which was never good when she had an overactive imagination brought on by a love of reading fiction and a wood at the bottom of the yard.

She went downstairs to the basement to find Finn; he and his friends were wrestling and laughing loudly and listening to music and playing Xbox, sprawled on the sofas and beanbags and making the huge space look a lot smaller.

"Hey, Finn," Rose said, touching his shoulder; he had the Xbox controller and was jabbing away at the buttons; it looked like he was playing Halo or something. Maybe Assassin's Creed. She couldn't tell—Rose didn't really do video-games.

"Hey," he said, shouting at one of his 'teammates' as he got ambushed and killed. "Thanks for the back-up, Garrett!"

"Finn!"

"What?" Finn glanced over his shoulder as red flooded his half of the television screen.

"Your mom called—she's been held up," Rose said, and then realised he wasn't paying her attention, laughing at his friends wrestling on the floor over the last of the tortilla chips. "Get 'im Jerry! Get him!"

Rose huffed a sigh. This was too much. She could handle Doug ignoring her; that was prerequisite for living here. But Finn. After he had kissed her—after he had made her scar feel beautiful—nu-uh.

She smacked him round the back of the head and stalked back upstairs, hearing his yelp and shout of her name, but ignored him. She walked into Regina's best-room, to find Evan and his friends sprawled out on the sofas watching porn on the big-screen TV.

"Oh, guys! Classy!" she declared, gaping with incredulity and disgust. She looked at Evan. "Your little brothers are home, you know!"

"Yeah…"

"And—Oh, never mind! You'll do whatever the hell you want, anyway," Rose groused. She was quickly losing patience with these McGowan boys. She glanced around at the lacrosse players, Darnell (who grinned and waved) and Jake, who wasn't watching the movie but reading one of Sean's motorcycle magazines. "Who's staying for dinner?" she asked.

They all raised their hands.

"Great," Rose grumbled. "And Finn's friends, are they staying too?"

"Probably," Evan said unconcernedly. "Mom always finds something to give us for dinner."

"I don't believe this family," Rose whispered to herself, shaking her head dazedly, walking back to the kitchen. 'Mom always finds something to give us for dinner'—like Regina searched the woods for a magic fairy or fairy-godmother who just procured meals for them out of thin air without any effort. It was no wonder they went through food the rate they did; they thought it was just a limitless supply.

"Are you guys hungry?" Rose asked, glancing at Miller and Caleb, quietly playing Go Fish at the island. Caleb grinned. Rose sighed heavily and went to the fridge, poured some juice for Caleb, and started searching for stuff to make for dinner. They needed to go grocery shopping, and definitely, definitely needed to make a trip to Costco to stock the pantry. She managed to find a big tub of crème fraiche, fresh zucchinis from the Farmer's Market and bacon, and knew she could make a tasty pasta dish for dinner with that.

"Nobody's allergic to mushrooms, right?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Miller shook his head; she grabbed the container of mushrooms and a chopping board and knife, and started cutting up the zucchinis, mushrooms and bacon.

Caleb cut his finger getting in the way of her knife—she didn't know how the hell he managed to do it—so she had to stick his hand under the cold water faucet and find where Regina kept her first aid kit, putting some antiseptic cream on the wound before covering it with a Spiderman band-aid. After he'd stopped crying, Caleb went right on playing Go Fish with Miller, and Rose went right back to cooking, tying her hair up into a messy bun.

Rose was hot, and sweaty, and irritated, and nobody was offering to help her as she made enough pasta to feed a whole company of Marines. She had to find the biggest saucepan and filled it with enough pasta to feed over twenty people, brought in a plug-in fan to cool her off as she stood over the six-burner Viking stove, alternately stirring the pasta so it didn't stick and browning the bacon and mushrooms, softening the zucchinis, and trying to get the timing perfect to add the crème fraiche to the veggies and bacon so it didn't curdle while the pasta finished cooking. It was noisy and loud and hot and nobody asked if she needed any help.

The vat of pasta was so heavy. She had to wrap the handles in dishcloths so she didn't burn herself, and staggered over to the sink to drain it into a colander, caught sight of movement and panted, wiping the back of her arm across her forehead.

"Dinner's almost ready," she told whoever he was, the guy with turquoise hair, who was rummaging through the box of potato chips.

"Oh, that's okay; I'm not hungry for dinner just yet," the guy said, and left the kitchen. Indignation hammering her blood through her veins, Rose glared after him, and turned to the sink to strain the pasta. She tipped it back into the vat with the crème fraiche, vegetables and bacon strips and put it back on the hob, heating it thoroughly.

"Caleb, can you go get everyone else, please?" Rose asked, and Caleb smiled and ran off, hollering at the top of his lungs for his brothers; she heard the commotion he caused in the best-room, and then again in the basement, calling everyone up to dinner. She counted plates and set the table, and the noise level in the kitchen rose to maximum as Evan, Finn and their friends surged into the room, drawn by the smells of a cooked dinner and rumbling stomachs. Rose set the vat of pasta down on the heat-mat on the table, and went to get glasses for drinks.

She turned back, and Evan and his friends were already leaving, bearing huge piled-over plates of pasta; Finn and his friends were a little better; they had chosen to remain at the table to eat their mounded helpings of pasta. Miller and Caleb had no plates, and the vat was completely empty. Not even a scrap of bacon or a piece of zucchini or mushroom remained.

That was it.

She'd had enough.

She could not stand how much they took for granted any longer. They needed a slap in the face, and she was going to give it to them. She just wished Doug were here to receive it, too.

"Where do you think you're going?" Rose snapped at Evan and his friends. They paused, wide-eyed.

"To the best-room," Evan said.

"Back to your porn?" Rose asked coldly. "You want to watch porn in your own room, that's fine, but your parents won't appreciate it when I tell them you and your friends were watching it in their best sitting room, with your six-year-old brother around." She went to the laundry-room and grabbed the vacuum, shoving it at Evan. "You're gonna vacuum that room and get rid of all those crushed chips and kernels." She knew her North Carolina accent thickened when she was angry, but didn't dwell on it. She turned to Finn. "And you!" She grabbed a dustpan and brush and a trash-bag and thrust them at Finn. "Go downstairs and clean up that den; I'm horrified you let people come over with the state it's in. Your mom called and asked one thing from you today, and that was to make dinner. Yet again I stepped up and cooked for y'all since you seem to think everything your mom puts on your dinner-table is conjured out of thin-air by some fairy-godmother. I spent half an hour cooking this meal, and not one of you could respect that there are five other people who'll be needing dinner, too! What're Sean and Ian gonna eat, huh? Unless you hadn't noticed, the fridge is almost empty because y'all just keep helping yourself to whatever you want without thinking about anybody else. Well I'm sick of it! From now on you're gonna help around this house, and you're gonna start helping your mom!"

The boys—Evan, Finn, Jake, Darnell, and the other unnamed ones she didn't know—stared at her, stunned. A few flushed in embarrassment and some were trying not to smile, but she didn't care. She was out of here.

"Miller! Caleb! Go and get in the truck! We're going out for dinner. Wherever you want. I'm paying." She grabbed her bag and Miller and Caleb scuttled out of the kitchen. Rose backtracked at the front-door. "And I expect all of the dishes to be washed and put back in their places when I get back!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

She slammed the door after her, and almost ran over Ian, who had just returned with Sean. "We're going out!" she half-shouted. "Get in the truck!" She stalked to her truck, not pausing to see Sean's stunned expression and Ian's raised eyebrows; Miller and Caleb were already strapped in, and she slammed her door when she climbed into the cab.

"I'm sorry I shouted, boys," Rose said quietly, anger making her blood boil and her hands shake, jamming the keys into the ignition; her truck roared to life, and in her rear-view mirror, she saw Finn and Evan on the porch, slack-jawed. Sean's face now showed barely any surprise at her tone, and he lifted Ian into the bed of the truck, which delighted him, and climbed in after him. She pulled away from the barn and down the lawn and by the time Evan and Finn were jogging down the lawn towards them, Rose had pulled out onto the street and was making her way towards Bernal.

"On October 8, 1956, Don Larsen pitched the only perfect game in World Series history, beating the Brooklyn Dodgers at Yankee Stadium, two-nothing," Miller said. "Your accent is pretty when you're mad."

Rose flushed and glanced at him. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"They made you mad for not waiting for you to serve up dinner," Miller said. They had been working on him talking about stuff other than baseball, and as long as he begun with a question, they could have short conversations that were reaching normalcy.

"Yes, they did," Rose said, and her anger was subsiding, replaced with the throat- and eye-burning hurt she associated with the threat of tears.

"Can we go to Jim's for dinner?" Caleb asked, peeking around Miller.

"Is it open?" Rose asked, and Caleb grinned and nodded. She shrugged and made her way to the Sunol Boulevard plaza, parking outside Jim's Country Style Restaurant. Sean hopped out of the truck-bed as soon as she'd stopped, and as she climbed out of her seat and slammed her door, he was lifting Ian down.

"Hey, Ian, how's your mouth?" she asked quietly, wincing at Ian. He had just had his braces put on earlier today, and Caleb smacking him—accidentally—in the mouth must have cut the insides of his mouth to shreds. Ian's lower-lip trembled. She squatted down next to him, hoisting her purse higher on her shoulder. "You know it was an accident, right? Caleb didn't mean to hit you in the mouth." He nodded almost imperceptibly. She rubbed his arm comfortingly. "We'll get you a big milkshake when we get inside. That's what my daddy bought me when I got my braces on. Come on. Caleb?" Caleb ran around the truck and came to latch on to her hand; Miller followed, expression as defiant as it had been that first day they'd eaten inside the cafeteria at school. She guessed he didn't very often eat out in restaurants. At least, not without his mom.

She linked an arm with Miller's as they entered the restaurant, seeing the set of his shoulders tense up. He glanced at her, and she could see the wilfulness dazzling his clear blue eyes. He wanted to be able to do this. She smiled.

"I know you can do it," she half-whispered. He nodded slightly, then set his shoulders broadly, lifted his chin, and gazed defiantly around the restaurant.

"Table for five?" the pretty woman who greeted them smiled. "I've got a booth all ready for you. If you'll follow me."

"To the ends of the earth," Caleb sighed, swooning and gazing up at her adoringly; the woman laughed. That was enough to jumpstart Rose out of her bad mood and laugh. The things that little boy came out with—mostly because he had so many older brothers—but he was the most charming of the brothers because he was so young and naïve too.

"Hullo, Caleb," the waitress chuckled, rumpling his hair. They followed her to the same booth Rose had sat at with Evan and his buddies after Darnell's party. Miller made them sit in height-order, so she sat between him and Sean, with the 'runts' as their elder brothers called them, sitting opposite. Miller sat on a chair at the end of the table that the woman had brought over for him, and they all scanned their menus.

"Okay, guys, d'you know what you want?" Rose asked, glancing at Caleb and Ian. Ian turned his menu around and pointed to the drinks section; a huge thick-thick chocolate-chip milkshake. Rose smiled.

"Sounds good to me," she said. "Caleb, what about you?"

"Can I have Brenner?" Caleb asked.

"What's Brenner?" Rose asked, laughing.

"Breakfast and dinner," Caleb grinned. "Turk has it on Scrubs all the time."

"Does he? I see," Rose chuckled. "Alright. What would you like for Brenner?"

"Pancakes!" Caleb declared, sighing with longing at the sight of a huge stack of pancakes being taken over to another table past them. Rose smiled and scanned the kids' menu, settling it with Caleb that he should have six silver-dollar pancakes instead of three of the fattest pancakes she had ever seen.

"Okay…Miller what about you?" Rose asked.

"Chilli, house-fries, Coke with no ice, fruit cup," Miller said decisively, setting his menu down on top of Ian's and Caleb's. A tiny smile was tugging the corners of his lips and he caught her eye, and the smile widened a little.

"Okay, I brought the good stuff over," the waitress said, reappearing with two sheets of paper and Crayola crayons, and a jug of coffee that smelled very strong, and very good. Sean held his brown coffee-mug up instantly, and the woman laughed. "I knew you'd have some, Sean. Where are Evan and Finn? They don't usually miss out on a dinner here."

"They're at home," Rose said tersely, glaring at the table.

"Rose yelled at 'em 'cause they ate all the pasta without giving us any," Caleb spoke up. "They had all their friends over today, and they were watching naughty stuff in Mommy's best-room on the TV and making a mess in the den. So Rose yelled at them. And she said we could have Brenner here." Sean shifted in his seat next to her, and Rose glanced up at the waitress.

"I see," the waitress said thoughtfully. "What happened to you, Ian? Did you get in the way of a baseball again?"

"No, Caleb's fist," Ian murmured, doing his best not to move his mouth too much.

"Ouch. Oh dear," the waitress said. "Well, what can I get you all?" Sean ordered a BLT sandwich and fries; Rose ordered a cup of chilli and home-fries like Miller and a chocolate-chip milkshake; Miller glanced skittishly at Rose before spouting off his order nervously, staring at the table; the waitress took it in her stride, commenting that she hadn't seen him in a while; Ian pointed out his milkshake order and Rose had to change Caleb's order when he asked for ten 'growed-up size' pancakes.

It was a quiet meal; mostly, Caleb chattered away, peering over the table divide to another group and chatting with them and flirting with the waitress; Rose and Miller continued their fact-question conversation tactic until Ian's mouth started paining him and he came to clamber onto Rose's lap, having seen her cradle Caleb earlier in the afternoon when he was hurt, for a hug. Sean was reading the paperback he'd tucked into the back-pocket of his grease-streaked jeans, and kept slugging down the strong black coffee the waitress kept coming to refill for him. When their food arrived, and Miller started tucking into his chilli and fries, his small smile turned into a beam. When they had finished, and Rose went to go and pay, she discovered the bill had 'already been taken care of.'

"What does that mean?" Rose asked, frowning.

"I had Una put it on Dad's tab," someone said behind her; Sean and the boys had left the table and congregated behind her.

"It was supposed to be my treat," Rose said, flustered. Sean shrugged.

"Alright…well…I just need to stop by in Safeway and pick up a few emergency groceries," she said, as they left. "Who wants to come with me?" The general consensus was that none of the boys really wanted to go food-shopping, but Caleb was hyper from the syrup on his pancakes and needed to walk it off, and Miller kept close by her; Sean shrugged, and she moved the truck to the other side of the parking-lot, the little ones riding shotgun, Sean and Miller in the truck-bed.

She knew from memory what they needed, and tried not to make the boys suffer needlessly as she did the grocery shopping, mentally planning what meals she'd most likely end up cooking; fresh fruit, vegetables, dried pasta, tortillas, bread, bagels, milk, juice, eggs, cheese, chips, cookies, Goldfish, Fruit Gushers, Fruit Winders, Fruit Shoots, frosted Circus Animals, Cheez-Its, Juicy-Juice, breakfast cereals, Gatorades, Clif energy bars and Fruit Leathers, meat (beef, chicken, lamb for another moussaka, burgers and sausages, sliced ham, turkey, bologna for sandwiches), peanut-butter, jars of jelly, kitchen-towel, toilet-paper, cleaning supplies and a fresh box of Spiderman band-aids, because Caleb had used the last one on his finger earlier.

The little boys were very well-behaved; they didn't fight or argue in the store or make Rose raise her voice because they were getting in the way of other shoppers and generally being a nuisance; Miller kept their shopping-carts organised; Sean pushed the carts, arm-muscles bulging, and the boys all each helped carry bags back to the truck when Rose had shelled out almost two hundred bucks for everything. Sean stole her receipt and folded it into his back-pocket with his novel, which Rose didn't understand.

Parking up near the porch for easy unloading, Rose noted John and Regina's cars both parked by the garage and the lack of cars belonging to Finn's and Evan's friends.

"Okay, guys; your parents are home," she said quietly. "Remember what I said?" Ian and Caleb nodded, and she glanced over her shoulder into the truck-bed, where Miller and Sean sat amongst the shopping bags. She had warned the boys to be on their best behaviour when they got home, as Regina and John would be tired from late days at work and commuting, and the boys tended to make a fuss about bedtime.

She unlocked the front door and the boys started carrying shopping bags into the kitchen; the house was quiet, like the tranquillity after a devastating storm, with only someone playing music upstairs. Light spilled into the darkened hall from the kitchen, where Regina and John sat eating Chinese takeout and playing cards, talking over their day.

Regina glanced over her shoulder when John's jaw went slack, and following her husband's gaze, Regina's eyes widened and she stared as the boys walked single-file into the kitchen carrying their shopping-bags, depositing them carefully on the island (Ian helping Caleb because he was too little to reach without spilling the contents of his bag). Sean deposited his bags and pulled out the receipt he had stolen from Rose and handed it to Regina, who looked stunned as Rose and Miller started putting everything away into the fridge and pantry.

"You went grocery shopping!" Regina blurted, looking stunned. Rose glanced across the kitchen at her and nodded, handing Sean some stuff to put in the pantry.

"Yeah. The boys pretty much wiped out the whole kitchen today with all their friends over," Rose said quietly, subtly taking inventory of the state of the kitchen; the dishwasher was empty, plates, cutlery, bowls, glasses and cups put away neatly in their cupboards, the countertops cleaned and tidied, the stuff she had used to make dinner washed and put away. The floor looked like it had been swept and the kitchen table had that lemony cleanness of having just been scrubbed down.

"I heard my boys got verbally spanked," John said, and when Rose glanced at him, he was fighting not to grin. Caleb giggled. Rose flushed hotly. Regina still looked stunned that her sons were putting away groceries that they had gone to buy.

"I, er, might have gotten a little angry," Rose said quietly, flushing hotter.

"Well, whatever you said to 'em, sure as hell worked," John remarked, setting a full-house down on the table, so that Regina hissed and threw down her cards, reaching for her ice-tea. "When I got home from work, Evan and Finn were vacuuming and doing the last of the dishes."

"I hope you took a picture," Regina said. "That's the last we'll see of that for a while."

"I wouldn't count on it," Sean said quietly, glancing at Rose pointedly. Rose flushed and helped Caleb lift one of the cartons of milk into the fridge door.

"Rose…did you—you paid for all of this!" Regina said, and when Rose glanced at her, she was reading the receipt Sean must have just handed to her.

"Um…yeah," Rose said, flushing.

"We'll pay you back for this," John said seriously, frowning at the receipt. "We don't expect you to play parent with our kids." Rose shrugged.

"We needed groceries," she said quietly, handing cereal boxes to Miller, who was organising the pantry according to height-order. She helped the boys finish up putting away the last of the groceries, stuffed the empty bags in the caddy in the laundry-room and waved awkwardly at John and Regina, and made her way to the kitchen door.

"Come on, Caleb, let's go get ready for bed," Ian said, taking Caleb's hand; the two boys scuttled off, to the sound of Regina blurting in shock that her littlest, most rebellious boys were going voluntarily to bathe and get into their pyjamas.

"And make sure you show Miller your Math homework," Rose reminded Ian, as he and Caleb scuttled past her; Ian nodded and he and Caleb ran upstairs. Rose followed, slowly, feeling weary from the tumult of emotions she had felt in the last two hours.

She now had to finish her homework, which had disappeared from the kitchen island, and didn't really want to do hours of reading for History, or make a start on her character comparison essay for Helena and Hermia for English. Miller had helped her with her Math homework, so that was out of the way. She heard the water running in the bathroom and knew it was Ian running a bath; Caleb was playing with toy cars in the hallway, and she rumpled his hair as she passed, closing the bedroom-door behind her as she entered her room.

She found her homework, textbooks and notebooks spread out on her desk the way they had been on the island downstairs, and someone had vacuumed her floor and folded the clothes she had tossed on the chaise this morning trying to figure out what to wear.

Someone had left a little packet of gumdrop candies on top of her French grammar workbook. A little act of contrition, she guessed. Finn, she added, seeing that there was a paint-laced fingerprint on the box.

She suddenly felt a cramping sensation in her chest as guilt swept over her for yelling at him earlier, and kneaded the heel of her palm over her heart. Well, he deserved it, she thought, putting her bag down on the bench at the end of her bed and kicking off her sandals. She went over to her stereo, which she had finally unpacked onto the dresser with some photographs, and a stack of her favourite CDs, the others organised on top of the bookcase, which she had organised with her books. She picked out Vault: Def Leppard Greatest Hits (1980-1995), one of her dad's favourite hard-rock CDs, put it in the CD tray and hit play. She smiled when the music came on, blasting loudly, and rivalling Evan's music next-door.


A.N.: Yeah, again, I got in a very weird mood when I was writing this. Maybe because we're having a heat-wave here (in England) and the English don't actually need air-conditioning for 363 days of the year, so we can't deal when it gets hot!