Hello, all you lovely readers! I bring to you an update on another very special anniversary!
15 years ago today, on July 1, 2008, a young 12-year-old me sat on my knees in front of a box TV in my living room, because I had seen an ad for this new show on ABCFamily premiering that night.
When I turned on that TV and saw the first 15 seconds of a teenage girl holding up a pregnancy test with a positive result... I was hooked. Fast forward to about 10 minutes into the show, when I heard a male character's voice say the words "It's Amy, right?" That was it. I knew this would be the show I'd invest myself in.
Little did I know what this one show would do to my life. I had to watch it in secret because my parents banned me from it. My friends thought I loved it more than them and got jealous, but I made so many amazing friends that the problems never fazed me. 5 years of my life I spent dedicated to these characters just for Brenda to destroy them in the end.
Once it ended, I truly thought I'd be done with it, too. 15 re-watches later, I still tell myself that eventually I'll stop and give it up for good. It'll probably never happen, though, because Ricky and Amy are my kryptonite. This is also why I keep writing this story.
I have mapped out the end. There are going to be 40 chapters total in this story. We've still got some time to go before then, but the end is in sight. Now, if I can just unblock my brain, maybe I'd be able to actually write it all out faster!
What are some of your memories from the show? What were you doing 15 years ago when it aired? I'm curious!
"Whoosh!" He quickened his pace around the apartment, hoisting the cackling 8-and-a-half-month-old above his chin, "It's Super Emma! Whoosh!" Maneuvering his arms up and down fluidly to aid in the effect. She was having a blast, snorting through chortles and loud squeal-screams.
"Me! Me!" He hollered, jumping on the balls of his bare feet, and throwing his hands above his head as he watched his sister get flown through the air.
Ricky rose a brow playfully, feeling the ache in his left bicep from his earlier boxing/venting session, "You? But you don't even have a cape?"
John cocked his head, scrunching his nose at his dad's lame excuse because his sister was wearing a bib Ricky shifted backward. "Uh-huh!" Was the boy's rebuttal, grabbing a towel from the basket of laundry on the sofa, and stuffing it inside his Spiderman T-shirt, "Look!" Emma was getting another lap, now flailing her arms as she screamed, making him frown with a whine, "Me now, Daddy!"
Knowing John wasn't going to let up, and that the tantrum would soon start, Ricky expelled air from his cheeks, "Alright, hang on a sec -" Adjusting his arms in a lower position, they started to slow down: feigning engine failure as they made their way to the playpen, and he put Emma inside it. "Super Emma is coming in for a landing... here she goes right into the playpen of doom!" Not at all surprised when her cackling turned into an irritable whiny cry milliseconds later. He knew it would, but it wasn't fair to John to give her all the attention - sharing was always an issue between them. "Hey, don't look at me, I'm just the transport." Putting his hands up in surrender as she screamed and started wobbly trying to pull herself up to glance over the bar.
"I s-ave you, Em-ma!" John shouted, adjusting the towel that kept slipping as his arms shot above his head.
Ricky lifted him up with a small chuckle, adjusting to accommodate his longer and heavier frame. His biceps were burning now, having done too much in such a short amount of time, but he needed that release, even if the pain radiated throughout his spine. Bracing his left arm around his son's small legs, while the right
held onto his chest by grasping his shirt tightly, they began to make their way in smaller and slower strides around the apartment.
"Sw-uper John!" John giggled, his left arm outstretched with his fist clenched in a Superman pose as he yelled with each circle around the kitchen table, "Fa-stwer, daddy! Fa-stwer!"
Struggling to keep his grip, Ricky gasped lowly when John started to slip, coughing to hide it, "Um, Super John, you're significantly heavier than Super Emma." Giving one last boost to his forearms, he clenched his teeth and went full speed ahead with an animated, "Whooossshhhhh!" John started to squeal in amusement, filling the small room with his laughter. Something Ricky hadn't heard in a while, and it made him smile. "Alright, we're coming in for a landing! Ready?" The boy shook his head, not wanting his fun to end. He did the same thing he'd done to Emma before depositing him, face forward on the couch, his giggles being muffled against the cushions, and taking a seat himself.
Rooting his face against the cushion, John piped up, "A-gin! A-gin!"
Wincing at the dull ache in his legs, Ricky sighed tiredly, leaning his head against the back of the sofa, "What about me? Super Daddy is tired..." His son's brown eyes stared at him, their tiny speck of yellow that had been dulled for so long, now visible again. Amy had that same speck; he saw it every time she smiled with her dimples popping out. In his brief seconds of zoning out, John had moved to his lap; catching him just in time. "Oh really?" Ricky inquired, raising a brow at his son's small fingers flexing right above his ribs: their failed attempt of attack as he tried to dig in like his mom often did, making him chuckle and the baby start to scream-squeal as he turned the tables on him, "C'mere you!" Clutching his small frame as his fingertips scurried around it in a frantic tickle attack.
"D-aa-aa-ddyy-yy!" John squealed heavily, bucking and squirming until Ricky finally released him, and the tot dropped to the floor on his knees, slightly out of breath.
Emma was still shrieking with excitement, the gibberish coming out in loud babbles as her tiny palm ferociously pounded against the playpen.
"What are you giggling at, huh?" Ricky smiled at her, playfully bopping his index finger on her nose. Her eyes squinted, drawing her cheeks up as she pushed her tongue against the two bottom teeth she had, grunting through quick breaths. John used to do that too - it used to concern Amy, but Ricky always found it amusing. Flexing his fingers in front of her, he motioned them towards her neck, "I'm gonna get you-" not being able to stop the laugh that escaped his mouth as John jumped onto his back, and clung to his neck.
"I dot you, Daddy!" John cheered through a smirk, giving a tight squeeze. The pressure was light, not the least bit concerning. He was in for it now, though - no mercy.
With a swoop of his right arm, Ricky was able to grasp John's legs enough to flip him above his head and land on the throw pillow, just about to take his revenge when there was a hard knock at the door.
They all stilled for a second, confusion taking over his face at who would be visiting at almost bedtime.
The knock came again, harder, and more rushed.
Ricky slid off the couch, playfully shoving John's face with his hand as he giggled, and he chuckled, "You're lucky, kid!"
With a rough tug, the door began to open, and the visitor took a small step back - lowering their raised fist as he stepped into view.
His face held confusion at first - the silent glances between them making more sense as someone else came into view.
"Hey..." She weakly choked, bracing her left hand against the railing.
His breathing had elevated, eyes going dark as he quickly shut the door to where only his head could stick out as he growled, "What is this?"
"Just - hear her out, okay?" Adrian begged, pushing on the aged wood to keep it open. Glancing between the two of them with sad eyes, hating being in the middle.
With a raged expelling of air from his mouth, Ricky's jaw clenched, pointing to the floor "Downstairs" before grabbing Adrian's arm and pulling her into the apartment with a hard slam of the door. She didn't even get a chance to gather her thoughts before he angrily shouted, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Her head snapped up, surprised at his outburst, eyes going wide, "Me?"
"Daddy..." came a small voice. He was sitting on the couch, playing with his baby sister's toy, eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and sadness.
Not being able to offer a suitable response, Ricky just shook his head and yanked the door open again, "Just - watch them... I'll be right back!"
It felt weird standing in that butcher shop again after all the days that had passed. The last time was when she left as she went back and forth on the decision while locking and then unlocking the deadbolt in confusion before ultimately deciding to get in the cab and go to the airport.
Remembering the first time she ever stepped foot inside it: The smell of the meat made her nose itch, and the blood on the apron of the woman behind the counter made her grimace. Now, she missed it.
He didn't speak when he entered, but she could tell he was there by the sounds of his footsteps. Her back was to the door, unable to face him as the tears escaped her lashes, and she'd almost bitten her nails down to the quick.
"Why?" He asked, his voice strangled and slightly rough, "Why now? Did you not break me enough already? You needed to do it a third time?"
"... I'm sorry..." was all she could respond through a hiccupping sob.
"That's it, huh? You're 'sorry'? You're sorry? That's all you ever are, isn't it?" His breathing was quickening out of anger, "Sorry isn't enough, Amy! Not when you left us, again!" She was silent, exhaling shakily with her back still to him. Ricky sighed, "Look, I don't have a lot of time. I came down here so the kids wouldn't see you and get upset - so say what you want to say and then go."
Turning on her heel slowly, Amy looked up at his red face, the tear sliding down his cheek, making the ones in her eyes come faster.
His jaw flinched at her stare, "Fine. Don't speak. Don't utter a damn word... Just listen then." Taking a step back, he scoffed, "Jokes on me, right? That I was dumb enough to believe anything that came from your mouth knowing you are completely incapable of telling the truth? For letting you walk over me and get into my heart again, knowing the outcome would just be you bulldozing your way over it? And for playing into your twisted game. I'm the stupid one, and now everyone knows it." He shook his head, "Funny, isn't it? How you were so completely paranoid that I would cheat on you and leave you after you had my baby, but in reality, it was you who left me. Irony at its finest, huh?"
"Ricky - I - I'm s-sorry..." She sobbed, hands over her face, "I don't know what else to say, okay? I'm sorry for everything. Nothing I say will change it, but I'm sorry!" He was silent, glaring at her as her tears hit the butcher shop floor. With a hard sniffle, she lifted her eyes just enough to see him without making eye contact, mumbling, "... it's um - it's over between me and Adam... and New York..."
His brow furrowed at the news, unsympathetic, "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Knowing that the guy you left me for, left you?" Her lip bite caused him to scoff again, "What did you think was going to happen, Amy? That you would come back, and fall apart, and that I'd be here waiting to catch you, and we'd go back to how it was before?" Shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck, "This isn't some freaking fairytale! You left me like I meant nothing! So you don't get to come back and proclaim you're sorry and just expect me to rescue you from your problems! No more lies!"
"It wasn't a lie! I meant what I said, Ricky!" She shouted, taking a step forward, "I don't expect you to be understanding or sympathetic - not after everything I have put you through." Shaking her head, as the tears cascaded down her jaw onto her quivering lips, "I know I made a mistake, and I deserve everything that comes to me for tearing our family apart, but... please... please don't hate me... I can't handle it..."
The softness in her pleading caused something to break inside Ricky, lowering his icy glare to his shoes as he watched her fall apart again. It wasn't something he liked to see, no matter how angry he was. Amy would always be John and Emma's mother, and for that, he hated to see her in pain.
He sighed heavily, "I don't hate you, Amy... I can't." Biting his lip, "As much as I want to - As much as I would like nothing else but, to ease the crater of pain in my chest every time I hear your voice... I can't." His eyes filled with tears, "because hating you would mean I hurt our kids. And no matter how much you hurt me, I can't hurt them. And as much as it hurts me, because they are a part of you too, I wouldn't have them if not for you... But I can't love you, Amy... Not anymore... it's too painful for me." Sniffling, he wiped his eyes, looking away quickly, his voice becoming small, "So, let me move on. Let me put us in the past and try to be happy again. Give me that, at least." With a silent nod, he turned on his heels to walk away.
Amy stood there, rubbing her hands over her crossed arms, shouting after him, "I found your note. But you knew that. You knew I would... and - and you're right... about all of it! I'm scared! Scared to death that I'm going to fail you and damage our kids, and end up like my parents!" His footsteps stopped, muscles in his back tensing as she stepped closer. "I don't want our home to be broken like mine was. Slamming doors and yelling at each other through tears - I don't want that!" Putting her hand on his arm, her voice softened, "I want them to remember all the lazy Sunday breakfasts in bed, and all the tickle monster attacks -" Sniffling, "The chaos of the living room after playing with their toys, and the sound of their laughter during silly dance parties in the kitchen - because you can't dance." Her grip tightened as he turned to face her, his eyes lowering. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't felt like myself in a long time..." She admitted sadly, "But I swear to you, I never lied about how I felt last night. I meant every tear-laced word of it -" His eyes scanned hers before his breathing quickened, and he leaned in, brushing his lips to hers. She didn't fight him, allowing herself to kiss him back with fever for several minutes; aching to be with him again.
"... I love you..." She whispered lowly when he broke away for air.
His eyes hardened at her words, quickly backing away, "No! No, no, no! Stop saying that! You don't! You don't love me!" Shaking his head, he put his hands up to guard himself from her.
She looked up at him with hurt in her eyes, "Yes, I do. I do, Ricky - you know I do. And I know - "
"You don't know anything!" He shouted back
"I know that I lied." She tearfully confessed, "I lied about how I felt about you because it was easier to deny it. That sex was just sex because if I told myself the truth, it would destroy what little I thought of myself." Taking a small step towards him, "But - but that night in the car... it became clear to me that I couldn't break the spell you had over me... no matter how much I try -" Without warning, he stopped her by kissing her again, this time allowing himself to be drawn in by her, caressing her cheek with his thumb as his tongue lapped against hers.
Unbeknownst to them, Clementine stood just feet away, watching through the window. Her face fell ashen when she saw them, unbelieving that Ricky would do such a thing with Amy of all people.
Amy broke the kiss this time, "... tell me to stay..." her voice shaky and stained as the tears hit her swollen lips, caressing the hair by his left ear.
Ricky's eyes were closed, grasping onto her arms, shaking his head, and breaking away, "... I can't. I can't do this anymore, Amy..." His voice cracked, taking slow breaths to combat the tears sliding down his jaw.
A hard knock filled the space, making both of them shift awkwardly before he went to answer it.
She didn't bother announcing her presence, just walked straight in, and kissed him quickly, making her uncomfortable to see it.
"Amy!" Clementine squealed excitedly upon entering the shop and seeing her, not even asking before going in for a truly unwanted hug. "I didn't know you were here! When did you get in?" The smile she was faking was obvious.
"Um, just a - about an hour ago. Last minute thing." Amy replied, giving him a look from across the room. She didn't want to be there anymore. Not when her nemesis was around.
Clementine took a step back, grabbing his hand, as she continued, "Oh, well, we have a date tonight... but we can cancel, or you could come with us?" Her brow rose, glancing at him with an odd expression she couldn't place. "Right, babe?"
Amy couldn't help but giggle under her breath at his intense eye roll. Ricky hated pet names - especially "babe," "baby," and "Hunny." They made him grimace in embarrassment. Sometimes, she would call him one of them on purpose to watch his cheeks draw up and his eyes roll - she found it cute. She hated them too, which is why she found it so funny now. Shaking her head to decline, "Oh, no. No, that's okay, I -"
Ricky stood there, stuffing his hands in his pockets in the awkward exchange, his lips pursed in an eyebrow raised, forced smile, "Amy was just stopping by to get the kids' schedules" He quickly lied, finally looking up to see her eyes, "I'll talk to you in the morning?
Amy's lips parted, ready to say something else, but ultimately deciding against it and just nodding and swallowing back the hurt, "Right."
He could sense the tension in the room and knew if he didn't remove himself soon, it would all come to a head, and someone would be leaving the shop in tears. "We should get going - night, Amy."
Clementine turned on her heel, putting her hand on his shoulder for a brief second before nodding and stating, "You go ahead, I'll be up in a minute. I want to see Amy for a minute - catch up."
Not really knowing how to respond, he just shrugged and walked away, not interested in doing anything further with either of them for the rest of the night.
Amy watched with sadness in her eyes as he walked away and disappeared behind the door. Raking a hand through her hair, she sighed tiredly, not the least bit interested in this woman or her desire to catch up, "It's late - I really should get going -"
Clementine's eyes became daggered slits, the playful lilt in her voice turning venomous and rough as she shoved a finger into Amy's face, "You bitch!"
Bounding the stairs, he had to stop on the last one. The tsunami was back, taking his breath and pulling him under its current with no escape.
Taking hold of the railing with his hand so hard he wished it would snap in half and send him tumbling down the stairs, the tears stung his eyes; muffling the screams trapped in his throat with the other hand as he slid down onto the step.
Panic attacks were common those days. At first, he didn't understand why he'd get them, but it became clearer with each one that came, that his inability to let her go, was causing him incredible distress: even the mention of her name could send him spiraling. The only thing that helped was the presence of his children. Usually, a cuddle or a hug with one, or both, of them would subdue to the attack; like having a piece of her there with him, was enough to tell his body that he was okay.
Trying to breathe out even breaths as he let go of the railing to clutch his chest, Ricky's blurred vision caught sight of that suitcase still lying in ruin across the floor.
"No, Em-ma - dat is not yw-ours!" He scolded her, gently taking the Batman action figure out of her hands, and lifting it out of her reach. Emma fussed, reaching for it with a whine. John shook his head, pulling it away further, causing her to start in with her newly learned tantrums: head thrown back while she flailed her arms and legs in defiance. "A-dwin..." He looked up at the brunette shyly, "Um - um when is daddy jus c-omin back?"
Adrian's mind was elsewhere, concerned with the quiet ruckus coming from the other side of the wall. She could hear Ricky breaking down, and the kicks to something solid, and hoped that the boy didn't ask her the question because he also heard it. Thankfully, he seemed obvious over the sounds of the baby on her lap babbling and whining. The gentle touch of his hand on her arm brought her attention back, "Sorry - what." Picking up the action figure, "Right - okay, yeah Batman was fighting... Spiderman, right? Is that its name? Wasn't he flying over the city or something?" That statement made him look at her like she had two heads, making her chuckle, "what is that look for? I thought Batman was a superhero?"
"Bat-man jus d-ont fwy! He c-ant fwy!" John corrected her, holding his action figure in his hand
"But he has a cape - doesn't all caped Superheroes fly?" She was genuinely confused, not well versed in the world of superheroes and action figures, pointing to the one in his hand, "Doesn't that Spider thing fly?"
He couldn't help but issue a smirk though a giggle, amused by her cluelessness, "Sp-widerman jus d-ont fwy! He jus has st-wicky webs in his hands! Wike dis!" Extending his left arm out, he bent his fingers down to mimic the motion his favorite superhero used, making the sound effects with his mouth to add to his animation, making his sister giggle through spit bubbles.
The door opened quickly, alerting them all of his returning presence. His eyes were puffy, a blank expression on his face.
"Daaa!" The baby whined from her position standing atop the brunette's legs, outstretching her left hand while the right fisted her eyes tiredly, chewing on the thin blanket covered in cartoon clouds and rainbows she'd become accustomed to sleeping with the past couple of weeks. Without hesitation, he bent forward to grab her, bringing Emma to his chest to silence her whines and peck her cheeks with his lips.
"Daddy, A-dwin t-inks Batman c-an jus fwy!" The boy informed, still giggling in amusement at the brunette getting up off the floor and brushing something off her dress with her hands.
"Really?" Ricky played along, faking a smile to keep him smiling as he shook his head playfully at her, "Silly Adrian - can I talk to you?"
She pursed her lips and followed on his heels to the kitchen stopping by the sink. Away from his son's earshot, Ricky furrowed his brow in frustration, "What the hell is wrong with you?" He spat angrily, "You just threw me to the wolves down there!" His teeth were slightly clenched, not wanting to elevate his voice for Emma's little ear's sake.
Not the least bit interested in dealing with his misplaced anger, Adrian scoffed at him, raising a hand in surrender, "Hey, Amy called me, okay? Besides, you need to talk - perfect timing."
He shook his head, "No, not perfect timing - Clementine showed up."
Her eyes widened, "Wait seriously?"
Nodding, he lowered his head, allowing Emma to grab onto his lips, "Yeah, and now she's down there talking to Amy-"
That was all Adrian needed to hear, sprinting away and bounding down the stairs, "Where are you going? Im not done - Adrian!" his voice trailed after her until she got to the door leading to the shop, walking smack dab into the middle of their showdown.
"Oh is that right?" She smirked in amusement at the angry blonde spewing out her disdain for her.
"Yeah, and you know what else? You ruined his life!" She fumed, her fist clenched, "You took off and left Ricky to raise two kids, alone and now he's stuck! He can't do anything-"
Brow rising, "Don't you mean anyone?" Amy clicked her tongue, tired of this petty conversation, "Look I don't care what you think about me, okay? I never have. Why don't you just admit the truth? That this was your plan all along? You wanted Ricky, and you didn't care how you got him; my leaving was just a bonus to you because then you wouldn't feel guilty for being the whore that split up a family..." Getting closer, she smirked again, "Don't forget, I know all about you..."
Scoffing, Clementine grabbed her shirt sleeve aggressively as she started to walk away, "Ricky's happiness means more to me than what your perception is of me, and our relationship. I don't have to explain myself to you. You're not together anymore, and you'll never be again because he hates you." She smiled at the jab, seeing Amy's eyes lower in hurt upon the words being uttered aloud, "Ricky can't stand you. He never could. All those days in the coffee shop... he wasn't there for coffee, he was there for me. He chose me. He loves me." Taking a step closer, "He hated going home to you because you did nothing but argue with him, and pushed that brat of a kid on him because you didn't want to deal-"
Amy's eyes became slits, grabbing at Clementine's dress aggressively, "What did you just say? Did you just call my son a brat?"
Clementine was smirking now, enjoying herself, "What if I did? It's true. He is. John is the brattiest kid I've ever met... he must get that from you..." Amy raised her closed palm forward, exhaling quickly to relieve some of the rage. Clementine chuckled, "Go ahead, hit me. But you and I both know Ricky will take my side..." She raised a brow, cocking her head, "Who do you think he'll believe? The woman who walked out on him, and broke his heart? Or the woman who loves him?" Pursing her lips, "After all, you really think he'd ruin his sex life over you?"
"Please." Adrian scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, eyeing her with amusement at the lies she fabricated to get under her skin.
Clementine didn't take lightly to it, getting even closer and into Amy's face, a snarl coming to her lips, "Let me put this to you loud and clear - you and Ricky are over. He doesn't love you." Taking a step back, she shoved her, "You - well you're nothing but the bitch who ruined his life."
Regaining her balance from the shove, Amy closed her eyes and took in a deep breath to prevent herself from letting her fist connect with her face.
She took another step back, smiling in victory that she had won and his ex had lost.
Letting her believe it, Amy pursed her lips, waiting until Clementine's hand was on the door before blurting out, "Is that right? Then why did we have mind-blowing sex this weekend?" She watched as her body froze in place and tensed up - got her.
Clementine turned silently, grasping onto the handle of her purse, "Y-your l-lying!"
Taking three steps forward, Amy shook her head, not the least bit sympathetic to her shell-shocked expression, or sad eyes, "No, I'm not. Just ask him. And better yet... enjoy your date!" The last part came out as a growl, grimacing in disgust as she sauntered away and out the door.
Adrian took a few steps forward, hands laced together against her torso while she blew air from her cheeks. She also didn't know how to respond to the information given how Ricky had acted the last few days. It wasn't shocking to learn that they had had sex, but she also had a feeling that it wasn't just once either. No wonder Ricky was so upset by her showing up. "Look, I know we're not exactly friends, but a word of advice? Run. Just run away." She stated, "Everyone knows those two are made for each other - and sooner or later they'll also come to realize it and get back together." She flipped some hair away from her eyes, catching a glimpse of the engagement ring Omar had given her, on her finger, "Ricky will never love another girl like he loves Amy Juergens. I know it. I've been there, and that's why I'm telling you to run. It's no fun having a boyfriend who consistently cheats on you - because Ricky has only been faithful to one woman - and that'll never change."
"The wolf looked angry, his eyes squinting as he yelled 'Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll -" The door flew open, stopping him mid-sentence, completely caught off by the person standing in the entryway. He continued with his story, touching the page with his index finger, avoiding looking at her, "Blow your house down..."
"How could you!" She screamed at him through tears, balling her fists up.
Moving the book away, John pointed to the door with a frown on his face, "Go a-way!"
Clementine stood there, fuming, "Is it true?" Her outburst waking the once passed-out baby draped across his chest, who let out a fussy whimper before a hiccupping cry.
Ricky shook his head in frustration, biting the tip of his bottom lip to prevent from exploding into his own outburst, "Now look what you did!"
She shook her head, rolling her eyes at the crying child grabbing his shirt, "Would you just forget about them for one freaking second!" His head snapped up in both surprise and aggravation at her. Stepping forward, she threw her purse on the floor, "Is it true? Did you cheat on me with - with her?"
"Go a-way Tem-en-twine!" John shouted again, wanting their unwanted guest to leave before she upset him further.
The tears slid down her cheeks, rubbing her palms up and down her arms, voice becoming small as she looked at him, "Ricky... please tell me she's lying..."
Putting the book on the sofa cushion, and a hand on John's knee to tell him to stand down, Ricky exhaled deeply, looking up for a brief moment as he confessed, "No... She's telling the truth... I did..." Clementine's face fell ashen, contorting in both disgust and hurt. Looking away quickly, he ran a hand through his hair, wanting to get as far away as possible from the unwanted conversation plaguing the air, "But I don't want to talk about it tonight."
John smirked at her, waving his hand once as if to say 'Girl please' as she stood there staring at them. It was no secret that John strongly disliked her, and wanted her away from his father. She knew it, and it infuriated her because as much as she couldn't stand the kid, he was Ricky's son and she had to accept him. The baby wasn't bad, she just annoyed her by crying all the time - and looking just like Amy.
"What the -" Ricky hollered angrily as she sauntered over and yanked the book out of his hand, throwing it across the room in a rage. John frowned and Emma whined, both looking up at him as his breaths started to get faster.
"No, we're talking! Now!" Clementine seethed, her face red with anger, "You have time to talk to Amy downstairs, then you have time to talk to me! Start talking!"
This perked little ears, his head immediately shooting up with curious and wide eyes, "Mommy, d-owst-wirs?" Scooting off the sofa cushion quickly with giddy as he reached the door and shouted in excitement, "Mommy!"
Ricky watched the boy struggle with the doorknob cover he'd replaced a couple of weeks prior - this one unable to be pried open by little hands - before sighing, "John, get over here, please."
John shook his head with passion, pawing and twisting the white knob to no avail, "I wa-nt see mommy d-owst-wirs!"
"See what you do?" Ricky hissed at her, shaking his head as John's outburst only upset the baby further, causing Emma to start a crying fit. It was too late at night, and he wasn't in the mood. Clementine rolled her eyes again, her expression hard and uncaring of his problems.
With a small scoff, he swooped the baby up and disappeared into the hallway, reappearing a minute later to the same scene. John was getting upset, starting to beat the knob with a toy to break it. Going over to him, Ricky put his hand on his arm, stilling it with a quiet voice, "She's not down there anymore, buddy. She left." John didn't take that well, continuing to beat the knob and then thrash and claw whenever his dad tried to pull him away from it. "Ow! John, stop!" Ricky scolded, trying to pin his small arms so he couldn't engage further.
The three-year-old tried to free himself, wiggling and kicking him aggressively, "No! I wa-nt see mommy!"
Taking the beating, Ricky's arms relaxed a little, unbeknownst to him that when they did, John would take the opportunity to sink his teeth into the left one, hard. On instinct, he bit his lip hard, fighting the pain with confusion laced throughout his entire face because he didn't know what to do, John had never bitten him before. The little baby teeth were sinking deeper, causing Ricky to gasp lowly before the frustration took over and he shouted with angry eyes, releasing his grip entirely, "She's gone, okay! She's not coming back tonight so you might as well just forget about her and go to bed! Now!" Holding his arm as the blood droplets started to gather on his previously unmarked skin.
The tears were heaping out of John's big brown eyes, lip wobbling as he cried loudly, "... I- I h-hwatee y-y-ouuuu!" Running away into the bedroom and slamming the door, hard.
"John!" Ricky yelled after him, instantly remorseful of his outburst but the door slam told him it didn't matter, the damage was done.
"... I - I w-want m-mommyyy" John continued to sob into his palms, the saliva drenching the collar of his spaceship pajama top. From the other side of the room, a small cry sounded. Her eyes looked directly at him as she sat there, lip puckered and small fingers flexing out to him: incoherent, muffled babbles mixing in with her cries.
He sniffled hard, walking slowly over to her. Emma's eyes were wet with tears, much like his own. Putting his hand on the bar, his lip tipped up slightly at her wet hand slamming against his. Looking back at the door, he sniffled again before taking hold of the crib bars and pulling himself up, climbing over the side and into the small space. Her tiny brow creased, much like his did. She was at that age now where she mimicked most of what he did - including his many facial expressions. He started to giggle after he was successfully inside, reaching his hands forward for her. She whined a few times, rubbing her right eye tiredly before settling in his embrace. "It OK, Em-ma." He comforted his baby sister, laying his head on top of hers before kissing her hair sweetly, "I l-ov you..."
The voices were carrying in from the other room, their loud and angry shouts causing the toddler's eyes to open and his heart to beat faster. That's what his parents used to do - yell at each other loudly until one of them ended up coming into his room, or he heard the front door slam and one of them cry. It was usually his mommy who did the crying though.
He wished he could understand what they were saying because all he knew was that the word '"asshole" was used a lot. He knew that word. It was Mommy's favorite one to yell out at Daddy. He said it too, but when he did he got in trouble because it was a bad word, and mommy only used it when she was mad - or at least that's what she said to him when he got in trouble for using it at the nursery. Clementine must have been really mad at his daddy because she said it a lot in that short amount of time.
He looked down at his sister in his arms, her eyes fluttering peacefully in sleep as she sucked on her pacifier.
There was a loud crash aided by an angry shout before the door of the bedroom slowly creaked open.
"... John?" He whispered into the darkness, taking very slow and quiet footsteps in case they were both asleep. "John?" The bed was empty, his blankets untouched since that morning. A momentary wave of panic rose in him, before catching sight of a blue-sleeved arm in the corner of his eye. Turning slightly on his heel, Ricky saw them in the crib, together. "Hey, buddy..." The tot's eyes were closed, appearing to be asleep, but he knew better - John didn't just lay down when he was asleep, he snored. A lot. Just like Amy did when she was in a deep sleep. The sight in front of him made his heart melt; all the anger and confusion and hurt dissipated in that singular moment as he stared at them holding each other. He wished Amy was there to see it. That's all she ever talked about, about John eventually coming around to be like this - their daughter's protector. A tear slid down his cheek, reaching in to brush his thumb across his forehead, voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry, John... I really am... Can we talk?"
At first, John kept up the charade, keeping his eyes closed to feign sleep and not have to speak to his daddy, who he was still mad at for yelling at him. But after about 45 long seconds of silence, he couldn't keep it in anymore; face contorting as he started to speak through hiccupping cries, "I-I-I w-wa-nnttt m-m-mommyyy!"
It broke Ricky seeing him like this. All the stuff his son couldn't understand bounced around inside his tiny mind; trapped inside a body that couldn't comprehend what he was feeling enough to convey it to anyone. He knew that pain all too well, and seeing his own child have to suffer too... well it was just starting to become too much.
Quickly and gently, he took the baby from John's grasp, laying her down with the blanket, covered in cartoon rainbows and clouds, draped over her; Emma's eyes opened just the slightest bit as she flinched before settling back into sleep. Blowing out a breath slowly, Ricky picked John up and just held him. Letting his tears and saliva drench his shirt as he released everything into his chest. Sometimes the best thing to say was nothing. John was just a little boy, and he just needed someone to hold him close to their heart so he could hear it - like Ricky used to when he was a baby.
He could hear them in the kitchen from his place in the driveway, the sounds of his son's siren-like screams bouncing off the walls. Grabbing the brown bag of leftovers from his passenger seat, he got out and headed up the walkway, taking a breath before opening the door to the chaos he knew was behind it.
"John." He heard her groan. Her back was to him, busy at the kitchen counter trying to fill a bottle one-handed while she bounced him with the other, his fusses and squirms causing his toy to fall to the ground. She picked it up hesitantly, shooting some hair away from her face with the flick of her head as he continued his assault on their ears. Releasing another groan at the bottle she just filled, tipping over and spilling onto the counter, she closed her eyes in frustration.
"Everything okay in here?" He asked quietly, taking slow steps forward to not startle her.
Amy shook her head slowly, maneuvering around the room for a rag to sop up the mess. John continued crying, grabbing aggressively at her hair as she attempted to place him inside the car seat on the table to no avail; his screaming increased in volume with each passing second she didn't pick him back up. She continued to shake her head at their son's sobs, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, pleading with a cracked voice, "... John, please..." before looking up at him. Her eyes were heavy, dulled by exhaustion and sadness. Her lip was starting to wobble as she choked out a very low, "... I - I can't do this..."
Putting the food in the bag, on the floor, Ricky quickly rushed over, scooping John up from the car seat and bouncing him gently, "Hey, hey, it's okay -" settling his loud, irritable screams into slightly quieter whimpers. "Look - he's settling. Everything is fine."
She spun on her heels, her eyes fierce as she looked at him, "No it's not! My stupid mom is up at that stupid house with stupid David! And of course, my dad and Ashley aren't answering their phones because they have lives!" Throwing the phone facedown on the counter across the room and into the laundry basket filled to the brim, "Everyone has a life, except me!" Amy's outburst caused John to start crying again, and Ricky's eyes shift to the floor in guilt. "... He hasn't let me put him down for more than a second since we walked in... I can't do this -" She sniffled, cutting her eyes between him and the mess around them before holding her forehead with her palm: bottles were piled up all around the counters, while clothes, toys, bibs, and textbooks littered the table, chairs, and the floor. "All of it. It's too hard!" John started whimpering again, flailing his arms wildly. Amy's voice cracked as she started crying again, "... what were we thinking...?"
Ricky put his hand on her shoulder, stroking his thumb gently across her skin, "...You're doing great, Amy. Don't ever doubt that. He's probably just teething - my mom says he's at that age now. It's going to be okay." She didn't respond, just sniffled. His eyes lowered to her lips as he asked, "Something else bothering you?" The way she broke away from his touch answered for her. His brow rose, "Oh, of course. Ben. He's still angry at you isn't he?"
Sucking in her bottom lip, she turned her head away from him, "We had another fight... about you"
He scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Of course you did. He is so immature, you know that? And I'm going to tell him that the next time he calls. What, is he still mad about my being here? Because let me tell you something Amy, if Ben really loved you the way he says he does - he would trust you. He would trust that nothing is going on between us other than him. John is the only reason I'm here, in your house, all the time. That's it." Amy swiped at her left eye with the pad of her thumb, still avoiding his eyes. He must have hurt her with his blunt statement by accident. But she knew it was true. They had nothing between them besides the baby they shared. Ricky saw her lip start to wobble and just as quickly wrapped her in a one-armed hug, "I - I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just tired of him treating you like the bad guy here. You're not the bad guy, Amy, and Ben shouldn't be upset with you... that's all..."
She couldn't help herself from latching onto him: scrunching his shirt between her fingers as she wept into his chest. Everything was becoming so messy and hard trying to juggle raising a baby and trying to be a normal teenager. She just wanted a break; a single moment of peace where she could fall apart and not have to worry about the fallout. No Ben trying to dictate her every move. No Ricky confusing her by being so attentive and caring all of a sudden. No parents constantly at each other's throats because her mother might be carrying her father's baby, and not David's. No screeching baby driving her to the point of utter insanity. No anything. Just peace.
A feeling of intense guilt washed over her, quickly freeing herself from his embrace and looking away. She appreciated him, and every way he stepped up, but she also knew that it wasn't for her. He was right, they didn't have anything between them - except John - and they probably never would. He couldn't be trusted to be faithful, and she couldn't put herself through that kind of unknown with him. No matter how much it crossed her mind. It couldn't happen.
John started in again, rubbing at his eye while he flailed and grunted through irritable whines. She put her arms out for him, guessing that Ricky's patience was probably getting thinner, but was surprised when he simply shook his head and started bouncing him. "You sure?" She asked quizzically, "He's probably not going to go down anytime soon..."
Shrugging, he touched his son's tiny hand with his index finger, "Yeah. I got it." His eyes cut up to meet hers, his voice soft, "When was the last time you had a minute to yourself?" Her lips parted slightly, their son's whines cutting her off from answering. But he already knew the answer by her disheveled appearance and the disarray of the house. The bags under her eyes told him she hadn't slept much in the last week either, aiding in why she was upset and in need of one solitary night to herself. It wasn't a big ask, and she didn't ask him, he volunteered. And he was happy to do it.
He could sense her hesitation at his offer, so he touched her hand gently, and whispered, "You don't have to do it all on your own, Amy... you know that, right?"
A hand on his cheeks drew him away from his thoughts. "...Daddy?" John whispered, wiping the trail of tears that had, unbeknownst to him, cascaded down his cheeks. Ricky looked into his brown eyes, knowing that now was the time he had to talk to him; convey to him that nothing was his fault and that they were going to be okay with, or without, Amy.
Sighing, he stroked John's arm with his hand and took a crooked seat on the tiny bed, "I'm going to tell you something, and just listen, okay? Nothing is your fault here - You're not in trouble or anything. I want you to know that, that none of what is happening right now is your doing - okay?" John nodded slowly, trying to even out his breathing as he still cried. Blowing out a breath Ricky continued, "John, Mommy, and Daddy have a lot of stuff we're trying to work out, and I know it's upsetting and confusing to you... it's upsetting and confusing to me too."
"D-den- den w-w-why y-you jus h-hwate mommyyy?" The boy asked through another round of hiccups, rubbing a fist into his eye socket.
Ricky's brow furrowed, "I don't. I don't hate mommy. Why do you think I hate Mommy?"
"T-tus-tus you - you jus rw-ipped mommy's pit-chwer up!"
"I didn't know you saw that..." He looked down, ashamed that his son had witnessed his outburst, and sighed, "That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have done that. But I was mad because of the way Mommy confused and hurt me. I never meant for you to see that, and I don't hate Mommy, John. I'm just upset with Mommy for leaving again..."
John nodded again, licking his lips as he mumbled, "... me too..." It was silent between them for a few seconds before he turned slightly and looked up at him, "W-when - when is mommy jus cum-in hwome?"
The look on his face as he asked that question, stabbed Ricky. John had asked it so many times in the months since she left, and each time he'd give him the answer of 'soon'. But this time was different because Amy came back and said she was staying; said she was going to be around for them. But was she?
It would have been easy to stroke his head and tell him that Mommy would be home tomorrow and that everything would be fine, but would it be a lie? Would Amy remain there and be around like she said she would be? She'd burned them before, was it worth the potential of it happening again when the shoe would inevitably drop and she'd find some new way to flee her life, and their family?
This was all too much for his small toddler brain to comprehend, and it was too much for Ricky to have to figure out. "I don't know, buddy. I don't know when exactly Mommy is coming home for good... but she won't be gone forever, and when she does get home... we'll be a family again..." The statement came out more of a wish; like saying it aloud would put it out in the universe and make it come true: that Amy would come back for good, and they would be happy again. Ricky took his hand, "Maybe not the way it was before, but no matter what happens, you and your sister are our priority, and we will all be together again... okay? John's gaze dropped to the bed, hanging his head. "What is it?" Ricky asked softly, swiping a tear from his own cheek.
Without warning John erupted into another round of hiccupping sobs, putting both fists into his eyes, "M-m-mommyyy no w-wuv m-me n-n-ne-moreee!"
Ricky closed his eyes as the toddler shook atop his legs, fighting the urge to get angry that his son was hurting and he could do nothing to stop it. With a lift of his chin, he met his eyes, sternly but gently exclaiming, "That's not true, John. Your mommy loves you more than you realize. You know how I know that?" John sniffled, shrugging. "Because I've seen it." Lifting him off his lap and onto the bed, Ricky wiped a tear off his cheek, "When you were born, Mommy and I were very young. She was 15 and I was 16, and being so young it made mommy have to make some tough choices. Choices about her life, and her future. Mommy gave up a lot to be there for you, and she was happy to do it because she loves you so much. You're very special to Mommy, John, you always have been."
John hiccupped, letting the saliva dribble down his chin. "Em- Em-ma t-tooo?"
Ricky smiled glancing over to his youngest child still asleep in the crib, "Yah, Emma is special to mommy too, but you're her first baby. She grew up as you did. Emma is a bit different. Mommy and I were together when Emma was born. We weren't together when you were born. We weren't even friends..."
"Why?"
The guilt washed over him, swallowing roughly before answering honestly, "Well... because Mommy didn't like me. I was mean to Mommy when she was pregnant with you, and I'm sad about that, that I treated Mommy the way I did. She didn't deserve it..."
John looked up at him again, his lip starting to wobble, "... I mwiss mommy..."
Ricky nodded, wrapping him in a big hug, "Me too buddy." Kissing his hair, "But mommy is going to be ok, okay? Mommy is going to be okay, and Daddy is going to be okay..." His voice trailed, grasping him tighter against him as a tear rolled down his cheek, "We're all going to be okay... promise..."
"I can't believe this!" Anne huffed into the receiver, "This is because of that stupid hearing, isn't it? Amy, you can fight this - we can take Ricky to a real court. Appeal the mediation ruling!"
She shook her head, running her hand through her hair and pressing the phone closer against her right ear, "No, please, just listen - Ricky is a wonderful father. That's not the reason... it's me." Sniffling, "I can't go on living this double life anymore, Mom. It's going to kill me if I do!"
"Do you know what you're saying here, Amy? You're giving up New York - your dreams - for Ricky!" She retorted bitterly, slamming something onto what sounded like a countertop.
"That's not true! I'm doing this for my kids!" She shouted back, "John and Emma need their mother!"
"You're still their mother, Amy... did your dad get to you? Make you feel guilty about this?"
"No, Dad has nothing to do with this! This is about me! And reality! And the reality is I can't be a mother to my children 3000 miles away! Okay, I just can't!"
"Amy... I just don't want to see you give up your dreams-"
"No Mom... you don't want me to give up YOUR dreams!" Twisting her hair between her fingers, "I only ever started playing the French Horn because I wanted you to love me!"
"I do love you!"
"Then support me in this! Support my decision to come back to be with my family!" She started to cry, shaking her head vigorously against the device, "John HATES me, Mom! My baby hates his mother because I left him! What kind of monster does that, huh?" Sniffling again, "Hudson was a trap! A mistake because all it did was teach me that your problems never go away; they just follow you, and create more! I thought - I thought I wanted that life. I thought I wanted to be single and free... but I don't! I was miserable! I want my life back!" She continued to sob with her head in her hands, "But I probably won't get that... because I walked away. I walked out on the best thing I ever had... and now I'm having to grovel, and hope to God that the man I love forgives me for stomping on his heart - again!"
Anne hated to hear her daughter so upset, but she also couldn't feel sorry for the mess that she created. Amy knew the consequences of going to Hudson and living in New York. She knew that Ricky wouldn't take it lightly and that she'd have to sacrifice being with her kids for a while - but she chose it. And Anne thought she chose well. Chose something for herself for once instead of doing what everyone else wanted. After Amy had gotten pregnant, it seemed like she gave up all her hopes and dreams to pursue a life she knew was out of reach for her; to be the picture-perfect family with Ricky and John after her unplanned pregnancy at 15. Then things got worse when she was pregnant again at 18, and it seemed that she was burying herself under the opinions and desires of everyone else but herself. Accepting to settle because she thought she had to.
Anne sighed irritably into the receiver, her voice becoming edgier, "Look, Amy... I'm sorry but... I've sacrificed so much for you... if you do this - give up New York for Ricky - then I'm done. Don't call me when it all goes south. I won't be there to pick up the pieces of your unhappiness again to a man who will inevitably cheat on you! I won't help you destroy your life!"
Amy's mouth fell slightly agape, unbelieving of the words falling from her mother's lips. How she was so angry with her that she actually threatened to stop speaking to her. Like she meant nothing and was just nothing but a disappointment to her. It hurt. "Mom, please don't do this again!" She begged, grasping onto the concrete step, "Can you just for once be my mother? Can you just be there for me one time in my life without always trying to push against me?"
"I did, and you know where that got me, Amy? It got me two grandkids I never see, and an ungrateful teenage daughter choosing to throw her life away on a bad boy who is only going to break her heart!" Anne raged before abruptly hanging up, leaving her daughter stunned on the step of Adrian's front porch.
The tears fell from Amy's eyes, "Mom!" Screaming into the phone to a deadline as her face contorted and her eyes squinted in sobs, "Mom, no! Mom, please! Mommmm!" Dialing the number again, it went straight to voicemail.
Carefully closing the door, he blew out a small breath and wiped his eyes, thankful they were both fast asleep in their beds. He was exhausted and just wanted to collapse into his bed and have dreams about the past.
The lights were off, confusing him before she slipped out of the darkness. He didn't even get so much as a stutter out before she attacked him: molding her mouth to his; kissing him feverishly and trying to remove his shirt while she put his hands on her butt. Pushing her off, his brow furrowed in anger, "What the hell!" Touching his lips with his finger, he saw a small spot of red.
Clementine stood there, in nothing but her underwear, a seductive smirk on her face as she crawled onto the now-made sofa bed and laid her head down, "Come join me..." She twisted a strand of her caramel blonde hair around her finger, folding the left strap of her pink lace bra down her shoulder.
Shaking his head ferociously, "No! No - I won't -" Ricky stormed into the kitchen, grasping hard onto the countertop. Why was this happening? Was it not enough that Amy played with his heart and emotions, now Clementine had to follow too? He bit his lip hard, glancing into the room to take a peek. She was piercing him with her eyes and making him gulp with the way she tugged the front of her bra down - almost exposing her nipples to him.
Shaking his head repeatedly, he sighed. No. No, he wasn't doing this. Not to her, and certainly not to himself. Especially given his children were mere feet away in the next room. Never would he scar John like that.
His pants became tighter, his body betraying him. Clenching his teeth, he inhaled sharply and took quick steps back into the living room. "You need to get off my bed." He scowled, trying to avoid looking at her any further.
She rose slightly, letting her bra drop as she did and exposing her chest in its entirety to him. "You really want that?"
Keeping his gaze locked on the playpen and the smiling monkey perched atop it, he nodded, "Yeah, I do. I want to go to bed."
He twitched in the southern hemisphere of his body, making her bite her lip as she rose to stand and ran her hands down his chest, brushing her lips against his, "Because I think... you want me..."
She wasn't wrong. He did want her. Or at least the bottom half of him did. His hormones wanted her; wanted to pin her down and go at it to take the pain in his chest away; wanted her to moan as his heart broke inside his chest pretending it was someone else. That it was her under him, clawing his back between gasps of his name.
But his heart? His heart wanted nothing of the sort. It wanted intimacy without sex. It wanted the late-night talks facing each other in the darkness, the water fights while doing the dishes, the head massages during lazy mornings, the back and forth at meal times when Amy ate the last of the Captain Crunch and left him with either Coca Puffs or Cheerios, or her cute little scoffs at his teasing of cooking, and the over-the-top cheesy romcom movies she always made him watch when they weren't being subjected to a talking sponge, or animated cars with too much dialog for a children's film.
That was what Ricky wanted. That is what he craved. Her.
Finally looking into Clementine's eyes, Ricky saw the deep hurt he caused her as she sniffled softly, "So, you'll sleep with her, but not me?" Not at all expecting the hard slap to the side of his right jaw as she raved, "You pig! You jerk! How could you!"
Opening his mouth, he quickly closed it and held his jaw, fighting back his anger because he indeed warranted this. He was the reason he got slapped. He was the reason she was hurting. So he simply just shrugged with honest eyes, "I don't know. I don't know why I did it. It just happened -"
"Oh, you mean like Bandcamp?" She scoffed irritatingly, pushing him with her hands.
His eyes were soft, lip tipping up just the smallest bit as he spoke, "But you're enjoying this too, right? I mean you feel the same way about me as I feel about you?"
Her eyes roamed quickly as she bit her lip with slight hesitation, and squirmed, "I-I think.
"Then, what's a few more minutes?" he mumbled through a partial whisper, eyes locked on hers. How was she so beautiful in that dingy cafeteria? Why was he thinking these things? Could she hear the racing of his heart or sense he was terrified through his smile?
"Yeah," she squeaked out through a nervous giggle, "What's a few more minutes?" With another smaller lip bite.
With a jittery smile, Ricky leaned in and met her lips with his again. At first, she was hesitant, he sensed it by the way her breaths increased. She was more than just nervous - she was terrified. Maybe even more so than he was. As he lingered, Amy reciprocated; soft; gentle; not like all the other girls he'd kissed. She was different: her inexperience making her kisses sweet and... loving? When she started to part her lips to allow his tongue to slip through, it ignited something inside him.
They were going slow: him mostly taking the reins because she was so shaky. His hands brushed her cheeks and shoulder before moving down to her waist. Her burgundy dress hugged her waist and stopped at her thighs perfectly.
He was growing harder with each kiss, closing the space between them as he laid them on the couch and lifted her hand up to his head. Apprehensively, she grabbed a few of his curls, and he moaned into her mouth, desperately needing more. So he unzipped his pants and rolled her skirt before entering her with a quiet moan, grasping the arm of the couch, continuing to kiss her, and rocking into her five times before his release.
He was so caught up in the moment, he didn't notice the look on her face or the stillness of her body. She didn't speak, eyes closed as a few tears slid down her red cheeks. The thin red film covering his lower half, gave away why: she was a virgin. Why hadn't she said anything? She didn't stop him, so they both wanted it, right?
Amy's words echoed through his memory, replacing the cowardly whispers of what he had said that night with her tear-filled ones.
"... I was 15, Ricky! Freshmen in high school shouldn't have to make a decision about keeping their baby! If I had just stopped making out with you, a little boy wouldn't be sitting in the next room with his heart broken... Why did you leave me on that couch like I meant nothing, Ricky?"
It was too much.
"It's not the same." Ricky sighed sadly, taking a step forward as he fought the thoughts of her in his mind, "It's complicated - but I'm not excusing my actions. I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry, Clementine. I really am."
Clementine nodded slowly, letting a few tears run down her cheeks as she choked, "... Do you love me?"
"What -" His head snapped up, eyes widening at her brash question. "Why would you - We barely know each other!"
She shrunk back a little, folding her arms across her chest with a sniffle, "Ricky, I've loved you since we were kids!"
"I just slept with my ex -"
"Don't remind me!"
"Clementine... I just got out of a very serious relationship. A relationship that involves two babies. A relationship that -"
"A relationship that you don't want anymore!" She cried, flopping onto the mattress and burying her face into her hands.
His eyes softened, biting his bottom lip guiltily. He hated to see her cry, but what did he expect? She wasn't going to be happy about his cheating - let alone with Amy of all people. But what else was there to say other than "sorry?" Did he need to admit to her that he regretted sleeping with Amy? Lie to her and say it meant nothing? No. No of course not. No more lies.
Taking a step back, and wringing out his hands, feeling for the ring no longer on his finger, out of habit, "I - I don't know what you want from me!" He responded, pacing around the small patch of hardwood that wasn't littered with something covering it. "I can't say that. Not right now. We just started dating, and with everything going on with Amy and the kids... I'm not in that kind of head space right now." He looked away, running his hand through his curls with a loud exhale, "I don't just throw that word around, you know. Not after everything I've been through with Amy." Turning on his heel, he glanced at her, "Not after it took me years to fall in love with her. And yeah, maybe if I hadn't invited her up to my apartment for John's birthday then I wouldn't have fallen for her..." He swallowed roughly, fighting back the memory with a slow shake of his head, "But I did, and in doing so I saw love for what it truly is. Not just sex. And after having my own daughter, I can't stomach the hurt that I put so many girls through because of my anger at life and myself - including Amy. It's a miracle she ever forgave me, and it's a blessing that she loved me enough to give me a second child." The tears pooled around his eyes, "I'm not that same troubled kid who you loved in that foster home, Clementine. I grew up. I had to. I grew up and realized that the second my son came into the world, it was all about him. I had to become better for him. And in doing so, I learned that I was capable of loving someone and that maybe, if I could do that, then someone would eventually love me. Really love me." They were stern and honest, the pain swimming through their dark brown as he choked back the lump in his throat, "That kind of love... it just doesn't fade overnight. I can't just zip up that chapter of my life and move on like nothing happened!
She swiped some hair away from her eyes, keeping them locked on him, "So you admit it - you do still love her..." She said it harshly, clenching her teeth, as she shook her head dismissively and slammed a closed fist on the comforter. Stewing in silence for a few seconds, she cut her eyes to the floor, grimacing as she asked, "When you were with... her... did you feel anything?"
Without hesitation, he nodded and creased his brow, "Of course I did... Clementine, Amy was my wife for Pete's sake! I made a vow in front of God to love that woman until I die. So of course being with her meant something to me. It always will..." He trailed off, hanging his head and shaking it slowly, his jaw twitching slightly. "I think you should go - before John comes in wondering why he hears voices." The sharpness of his tone told her there was no room for any more negotiation, the conversation was done. Letting more tears run down her face, she sighed and stood, gathering all her clothes and putting them on. His back was turned, not wanting to see anymore. He'd seen enough.
Without a word, Clementine made her way to the door, stifling a sob as she shakily grabbed the knob.
Ricky sighed again, "I'm sorry... Clementine. I really am. I never meant to hurt you. But I'm confused and I just really need to be by myself right now: this weekend has scrambled my brain, and I think the best thing is -"
"I get it, okay! She won. Again." She cut him off angrily, running out of the apartment and down the stairs in haste.
Grabbing a pillow, he grasped it tightly in his hands - twisting and punching it until it fell to the ground, and the tears ran down his cheeks. His heart was being torn in two: one piece holding their family, and all the possibilities Amy coming back could bring, and the other the life they were currently living faced with the unknown of her eventual departure.
He couldn't lie to Clementine though, not about still loving Amy. Because it wasn't fair to her. But loving Amy, and being tied to this never-ending loop of pain and heartache wasn't good for anyone. They would never truly be happy unless they put aside their past and opened up to a new start: one where they didn't have to be together to love each other. Even though he desperately wanted that. Desperately needed that. If she wasn't ready, then why try to force her? It was that exact thing that shattered them the first time: they'd tried too hard to salvage something that was breaking; their marriage; their relationship was dwindling before their eyes because they wanted different things. But instead of talking it out like adults, they hurled insults and accusations at each other through angry shouts and forced smiles. It was their burning house. They'd fallen out of love for reasons they couldn't understand, and rather than admit it, and figure out a way to fan the flames, they let it burn to ashes around their feet; too much damage for repair. No survivors in the wreckage, just dust.
Knocking lightly on the inside of the screen door, she stepped out slowly. Amy was still on the step, she could hear her cries through the door. "They're cute - she looks just like you," Adrian stated sweetly, pointing to the screen Amy had open displaying the two young children smiling at each other on a chair.
Amy's lip tipped up through a frown, releasing a long, sad sigh, "Everyone says that, but I don't see it. Emma is more of Ricky, and so is John..."
Adrian took the phone, squinting to see what she perceived, pursing her lips when she didn't see it, and handing the device back, "You don't want to believe she looks like you... but she does..." Her eyes softened when Amy started to cry against her palm. "Is it Ricky? Did you talk to him?"
Amy shook her head quickly answering, "No... my mom..." Taking in a shaky inhale, "She... she no longer wants me as a daughter... And why would she? I mean all I do is fuck up! I fuck up everything I touch!" Her face contorted in pain, as she closed her eyes and continued to shake her head, screaming out into the night, "My life! My family! My kids! And Ricky! I'm the fuck up!"
Wrapping her arms around her, letting her fall apart in her embrace. "You don't. Stop thinking that way. Your mom will come around, she just needs some time... And... so will Ricky..." After a minute of her intensely sobbing, she sniffled and raised her head. The mascara lines were thick on Amy's pale cheeks, only adding to her disheveled appearance. Placing her hand on top of hers, Adrian's eyes roamed over her, sympathetic to the wreck she had become. She'd been there too at one point. "Girl, you're a wreck, when was the last time you got a full night's sleep?" Amy's silence spoke volumes, playing with her fingers as she stared off into the distance and tears rolled down her cheeks. Adrian caught her stare, eyes locked intensely on the front door of the house next door.
The house. The house her mother had sold to allow her to go to New York. Her refuge and safety net she craved - now inhabited by other people who would probably never know the memories stored inside those four walls.
"My parents said a nice young couple bought it. They have two or three kids and two dogs." Adrian exclaimed, following her stare.
Amy was lost, envisioning things that could have been had she just stayed with her family and never went to New York. If she had taken up her mother's original offer to move into the house with Ricky and the kids and be one big happy family. But would their marriage have still crumbled? If she never would have left... would he have left her? And then the house would just be a constant reminder of not only her parents failed marriage - but theirs too.
"Look, Daddy, I caught it!" An older John cheered excitedly, a light brown baseball mitt, holding a baseball, was in his hands, jumping on the balls of his feet in accomplishment.
She heard Ricky's deep laughter float across the grass, the smile spanning his entire face. He was older, more toned out with more facial hair than she'd ever seen him with, and a buzz cut almost down to his scalp. "Good job! Now throw it back to me." He instructed, holding out a slightly larger glove that matched their son's.
Obeying, John was just about to hurl it through the air when something came whizzing by that got both his and his father's attention.
"Beep-beep!" Came a squealy voice, rolling through the grass in a pink motorized car. She was older, no longer an infant but a small toddler. Her dark hair was down to her shoulders in tight curls, a pair of oversized cheetah print sunglasses crookedly on her face that she was holding up with her tiny right hand, giving the boys a look Amy knew all too well.
Putting his hand out for her to stop where she was, Ricky's voice was gentle, and with a smile he picked up the car with her in it, and moved it to the other side of the bushes, pointing at the brown door with white trim, "Whoa there princess! That way - go drive to mama"
Moving some hair away from her eyes with her small hand, Emma grinned crookedly and took off, heading straight for a brunette in a cardigan whose back was turned to them, busy with something on the ground. "Beep-beep, mama!" She hollered sweetly, letting the pink car come to an abrupt stop with a jerk. "Mama, pway!" The sunglasses hung off her ear, exposing those piercing green eyes.
What happened next, she didn't expect.
They were all happy, in the yard, playing. Or so she thought. Because as the child started getting out of the motorized vehicle, the brunette turned around; hair slightly darker with a little thicker frame brought on by a protruding baby bump.
It took her breath, leaving her gasping and clutching her chest in both disbelief and heartache at who her mind put into the picture.
It wasn't her, as Clementine stood before the toddler, sweeping her up in a giggle-filled tickle attack; her shrill squeals reaching across the yard to him, as he smiled at them both, happily.
She started to weep openly, covering her face with her hands to rid the imaginary thoughts. It was supposed to be them in that house. It was supposed to be her in that cardigan. And it was supposed to be her having his baby. She messed everything up and now she was being forced to look at a reality that didn't include her. He may never forgive her, and they may never be friends again. Clementine might convince Ricky to marry her, and they'll start their own family and leave her in the dust while another woman is called a mom to her kids.
How did it come to this?
Adrian could see something had upset her again, and just sat there, silently as Amy continued to weep, slamming the concrete with her fist as she screamed, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" At the top of her lungs.
After several minutes, Adrian stood up and dusted her dress off, clasping her hands over her torso, "My parents are going to be out of town until Friday, you take my room. I put out fresh blankets."
With a slow nod, Amy stayed silent. Adrian nodded back. "Adrian? Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked in a whisper a moment later, stilling her friend's movements inside the door frame. With a shaky breath, "I don't deserve it..."
Pursing her lips, Adrian stared at her with honest and soft eyes, "Who am I to say what people deserve, Amy?"
She looked up, "Hey, Adrian? Thanks. I mean that. Thank you."
Her lip tipped up into a small smile, "Goodnight, get some sleep."
Waiting until the door closed and Adrian was no longer in sight, Amy took ahold of her phone again, scrolling through dozens of pictures and thumbnails until she landed on one specific one. Hitting play the screen came to life.
A vibrant blue sky hung above them. It was the weekend before school started again. Before the bubble, they kept themselves in, was put on full display in front of their peers. Soon everyone would know that she and Ricky were dating and that they were... happy.
And when they did, the cruelness of the high school hallways would start in on their taunts and jabs, snickers and ridicule; casting their judgment and unwanted opinions on the two teen parents just trying to make themselves happy.
A tiny toddler ran across the screen, crookedly sprinting through the wet grass with a blue and white sprinkler toy spraying water everywhere. His shrieks of joy made her giggle behind the camera, amused by her son's excitement over the littlest things.
Fisting an orange popsicle, he ran over to Ricky, holding up his treat with a giggle that his dad also had one. John marveled at his father's every move, even down to the most minuscule things. "Mama ay!" He turned his head, pointing a chubby finger in her direction, the popsicle he was holding starting to tilt towards the ground.
Putting the frozen treat inside his mouth, Ricky put his hands out and started chasing him around the yard, "C'mere, popsicle boy!" catching him a minute later and running them both through the water; his squeals serenading the breezy air.
The camera panned, zooming in on their matching smiles; his dimples popping out of his cheeks. "Enjoying the view?" Ricky smirked at her, throwing their son over his shoulder and just as quickly wrapping his free arm around her waist.
"Ay! Ay!" John cackled against his shoulder blade, pulling himself up to look at them.
She chuckled lightly, as the camera panned up into the sky; showing the clouds above in all their white and fluffy wonder as Ricky kissed her passionately under them before the screen went black.
Wiping away her tears, she clasped her phone tightly in her palm and sucked in a breath, hitting one button as she released it.
"Amy? Is something wrong?" He answered on the first ring, his voice slightly gruff - like he'd been crying.
"No, I um - I can't sleep." She stated, there was a sad lilt in her tone, keeping her eyes on her feet, "I uh - I wanted to apologize - for showing up and blindsiding you like I did... and for kissing you. I hope it didn't cause any issues between you and... her..." Amy trailed off, holding in the scoff at her own words. She didn't care about Clementine or her relationship with him. She just cared about Ricky, and the kids they created together.
"Thanks for the apology - you shouldn't have done that - the blindsiding me part I mean." Ricky chuckled lightly through the phone, and she could just envision the smirk on his lips as he left off about the kiss. It made her smile. "I was thinking though, if you're serious about staying... there should be some boundaries."
She rose slightly, her eyes widening as she pressed the device further against her ear, "... okay? Like what?"
There was a rustling noise before she heard him sigh, "Like... we need to be friends, Amy. Real friends, to do this. To raise John and Emma together without... being together. I know there's a lot of messed up shit between us... but that can't get in the way of our being cohesive co-parents. The mediator is right: they need stability. This - our situation and our issues with each other - can't get transferred to them." He took a breath, his tone softening, "That was the best part of our relationship, Amy... our friendship. I miss that..."
A tear rolled down her cheek, "Me too..." her voice cracking in apprehension at what she was about to say. She closed her eyes, swallowing back the lump in her throat, "Ricky... what about us?"
There was a long pause between them before he spoke again, "... I can't be the one you want. I can't follow you to New York... or just wait around on the sidelines for you to make up your mind about us-" His voice lowered, slicing her slowly, "... I will never stop fighting for you, Amy... but I'm not going to push you. The ball is in your court. When you're ready - truly ready to be with me again... you know where I'll be. For now, though, I can handle being friends. We can go our separate ways and be with other people while co-parenting our kids together." He took a few shaky breaths, "... You begged me to tell you to stay... so I am. Stay, Amy. Stay and be the mother I know you can be to our kids... They need you, Ames... and so do I..." The last part of his plea coming out in a broken whisper.
Collecting her French horn from the cubby at the top, her mind was racing. She was tired, her feet were swollen and she just wanted to go home and sleep. He walked through, eager to have the room to themselves as he ordered everyone else out - stating he didn't want to talk about their impending adoption meeting with an audience. Ricky was weirdly secretive that way: not wanting his business broadcasted around the school. Amy didn't get that luxury though, everyone could see her business any time she moved.
He was nervous, not wanting to screw up due to the "baggage" of his birth family. He carried that around a lot it seemed; not being the same since his abusive birth father popped back up unexpectedly. Since then his mind had been made up - no adoption. It took her begging him through tears to please let her do it her way because she cared about their son and wanted what was best for him. And what was best for him was being raised by Donovan and Leon: people she knew and trusted. But he had to know. Ricky had to know that even though they still would be able to see their baby, they didn't have parenting rights. And his rebuttal to her statement made her question if he'd changed his mind again.
Ricky's eyes softened at her, "Amy, I look at you, and I just - after everything you've been through... I want this adoption to be perfect. I don't want you to be hurt anymore than I've hurt you already."
His sentiment was sweet, but she knew it was fleeting. No matter how friendly they were to each other in that moment, their son would come into the world soon, and then all hell would break loose; leaving heartbreak in its path for both of them. "Unfortunately... I think we're in for a lifetime of hurt. That's just going to be how it is."
His lip tipped up slightly, never taking his eyes off her, "Yeah well... hopefully... you and I can be friends for a lifetime, 'cause I don't think anyone else can really understand what we're going through." His words were honest, and she felt the prick in her heart upon hearing them. Maybe they could be friends, and maybe they wouldn't hate each other forever.
His voice broke through, pulling her out of her thoughts, "Amy? Ames, you still there?"
"Yeh, sorry, you cut out. What were you saying?"
"I'll see you in the morning. Maybe come by and have some breakfast?"
Amy smiled, biting the tip of her lip, "That sounds nice - but will there be pancakes?"
Ricky chuckled, "I think that can be arranged."
They both were laughing before it got quiet again. "Hey, Ricky?" She asked a few seconds later, glancing at her naked ring finger.
"Hmmm?" He responded
"Thanks."
"For what?"
She shrugged, letting her eyes brim with tears again. Happy tears. "Just... for being you. You're a really great guy, and John and Emma are so lucky to have you as their father."
There was a few seconds of silence, before he sniffled, "Thanks... Goodnight, Amy."
"Night..."
Hanging up the phone, he stared at the screen; the faces of his smiling and happy kids staring back at him. They were doing this for them. To give their children a happy and loving environment with two parents who loved them unconditionally - even if it meant they couldn't love each other.
Flexing his fingers against the sheets: where her body used to lay beside his, he sighed heavily and rolled over.
The nightstand drawer was cracked open - probably by Clementine when she insisted on trying to seduce him - catching his attention. Putting his hand inside, Ricky carefully pulled out the shiny gold band, admiring it against the light before slipping it back on his finger. It felt right, and it felt normal again. Like all the stuff that had happened was just a dream and he was about to wake up to her beside him, biting her lip in that adorable way she always did. Like he'd roll over and caress her cheek and kiss her slowly until one of their kids cried for their attention.
That was the normal he knew. The normal he wanted. Not this. Not separate houses and meals while the kids lived with him and she dropped by to see them. It wasn't right. But it was what was, and no matter how badly he wanted to change it, he couldn't. Amy had to decide whether or not she was ready to take that next step; to be a family again, together, under one roof.
Until then, all he had was hope.
"Wook, Daddy! Rwing! Rwing!" He shouted excitedly from his perch on the mattress, pointing his chubby fingers at a page in the book he was reading aloud in gibberish mumbling words he didn't exactly have a good grasp on yet.
He was tidying up the kitchen after their meal. She was passed out on the sofa bed, soft snores coming from her pursed lips. Raising his head to look at him, Ricky raised a finger to his lips, "Shhh, remember buddy - mommy needs sleep"
They'd gotten back from Amy's doctor's appointment a few hours ago, and since then he'd taken John so she could relax. Her doctor was concerned she was too stressed out, and they all knew how that ended up last time.
Her hand was resting atop her growing stomach, the rings on her finger intriguing the toddler. "Mommy h-as rwing?" Touching the bands carefully while cocking his head. Worried their son's actions would wake his sleeping wife, Ricky quickly went into the room and removed his small hand from her body gently. John pouted the silent scolding, crossing his arms over his chest, "I see mommy rwing!"
He put his hand out to him, making sure the gold band was visible, "You can see mine. Daddy has one too." John's eyes widened in wonder, taking it quickly when Ricky slipped it off and offered to let him hold it. Not at all surprised when he dropped it a few seconds later, Ricky knelt to pick it up and slipped it back on.
Pouting again, John's head lowered and brow furrowed, "Me rwing too!" Proclaiming loudly while attempting to grab his again.
Ricky shook his head playfully, a smile coming to his face, "You will someday, buddy." Putting his hand on John's head gently, "Someday you'll get a ring like mine when you find that special girl you fall madly in love with..." His eyes cut to her sleeping figure as he spoke, admiring the way her lips pouted in that adorable, childlike, way. Even sleeping Amy was beautiful, and he was so damn lucky.
John's eyes followed, showing the smirk that mimicked his dad's, "Wike yu-oo wuv mommy?"
Without hesitation, Ricky nodded and smiled down on his hand; the golden band reflecting off the light, giving a comforting feeling, "exactly like I love mommy."
Flexing his fingers again, Ricky let a tear fall from his eye, and removed the band, placing it back inside the drawer with a sad, heavy sigh, "... maybe someday..."
Well, did you enjoy that? Thoughts on Amy leaving New York? Or about how Anne is acting?
Stay tuned guys, we've got a few more rides to go!
