Hello everyone! I'm really trying to get this story written and uploaded as fast as I can, but I'm having such terrible writers block these past few weeks. I'm honestly sick of not being able to construct a sentence, especially this story - where the content is very deep, and emotional. It's like that episode of Spongebob where he has to throw out everything but fine dining and breathing.
That aside, I finished my rewatch of SL for the 15th time, and the Rewatch Podcast I've been listening to (Juergen' It!) also finished up the show, and have now started reading a WattPad fanfic of an imagined Season 6... While I appreciate that for the hilarious content, I honestly think hearing this cringe has affected my ability to write properly lol.
I had other things in my head to type out, but it's been a week and I just want to curl into my couch and watch fan videos of all my OTPs. Enjoy!
Now knowing something was amiss, he took another step forward, brows knitted, and voice starting to get rougher, "Tell me what - what's going on?" Not waiting for the answer he took off into the livingroom, stopping dead in his tracks when he reached the hutch.
It was like a dream. The familiarity sending all kinds of emotions and thoughts through him.
"Da!" Emma squealed tiredly reaching out towards him, snapping him out of the trance.
He blinked a few times to register what his eyes were witnessing; to make sure it wasn't going to disappear right in front of him.
Amy moved some hair away from her eyes, turning around, and giving a sheepish smile as she blushed at the sight of him, "...Hey, Ricky..."
His breath hitched, swallowing roughly as he countered the greeting, "... yeah... hey..." Emma reached for him again, both arms outstretched as she whimpered. Hiking her further up her hip, Amy moved in, exchanging the baby awkwardly into his arms; their hands brushing briefly at the handoff. He swallowed again, feeling a slight tightening below, "What are you doing here?"
She sighed, pushing on her lower back with her left hand, while her right flipped the hair from her eyes, "I can't just come see our kids?"
"Uh huh..." Ricky replied skeptical, moving the baby from his left arm to his right. Amy shifted her feet on the carpet. "Does John know?" Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly. He nodded, taking a few steps toward the staircase, "Good, let me go upstairs and tell him - I think he should hear it from me-" But before he could finish his sentence, or turn around to step onto the first step, squeaky footsteps clomped down the hall quickly.
Stopping in his tracks, John cocked his head at the brunette at the bottom of the stairs, before his eyes widened, "MOMMMYYYYYY!" And he ran full sprint-screaming - colliding into the back of her legs and grasping them for dear life.
She chuckled, almost falling back from the force of his body smacking into hers, "Hey buddy!" Lifting him into her arms, she kissed his cheek, "I missed you!"
Ricky's lip tipped up slightly, seeing their son grasp onto her neck as he repeatedly placed chicken-peck kisses on her cheek; the sight shooting a pain through him.
Following behind on John's heels, Robbie grinned, running to his niece who was being held by one of his favorite people, "Wicky! Wicky!" He squealed, wrapping his small arms around his right leg in a hug.
Ricky smiled back at him, "Hey, little man -" holding out his hand for a high-five, which Robbie gladly accepted with a hearty slap to his palm.
Closing the door behind him, "Why do you look like that?" His brow furrowed, watching as Kathleen stood by the kitchen island, biting her nails, "What happened?"
Unstuffing his hands from his pockets, "Y-ou did it!" Tom shouted, pointing at him.
"What are you talking about?"
Lowering her hand to her neck, her eyes cut towards the livingroom, sighing, "Amy is here..."
George's eyes widened, flying past her in a huff with his hands clutched at his sides. Stepping into the livingroom, he paused by the couch, pushing his tongue into his cheek at the two of them standing in awkward, tension filled, silence. "Ames..." He deadpanned, keeping his eyes directly on her
Amy clicked her tongue, "Dad..."
Sensing trouble, Kathleen ran into the room, putting her hand on George's shoulder, and looking between the three young children present in the room, "Why don't we go into the kitchen and get some of those cookies I made yesterday?" She suggested, taking hold of Robbie's hand, as George took the baby from Ricky, lingering a moment. "John, are you coming?" Shaking his head, John burrowed it into Amy's shoulder, holding her neck tighter - afraid that if he let go, she'd be gone again. "I have ones with big chocolate chips - the soft kind too..." Kathleen continued, softening her eyes at them.
John burrowed further, flexing his fingers against her skin - tightening his grip until she started to cough at the pressure. Whispering something inaudibly into his ear, his grip loosened, sliding himself down enough for his grandpa to scoop him up by the waist one-handed.
Waiting until they were all fully out of view, Ricky moved to the side of the stairs, further away from earshot of the crowd in the kitchen. Smile fading, he crossed his arms, "Really - why are you here? You know I filed the papers, right?"
"Do I know that you're an ass and did something so shitty as to petition a court to take my kids from me?" Amy scoffed, shaking her head at him, "Yeah, I know that."
His jaw tightened, "You didn't give me much choice, now did you? Your mother isn't taking me to court - and you're not taking them to New York. You're just not."
"Why?" Her eyes lowered at him in hurt, "Why don't you want me to be a part of their lives anymore? They will be happy in New York - it's great there." Gathering her hair in her hands to pull into a ponytail, "And it's not like you'd never see them - my mom said she'll fly them back every couple of weeks -" she tied the band around twice, lips pursing as he stepped back into the room.
"Hwere!" John proclaimed, standing between them with two large cookies, one in each hand, "One f-ore daddy, an-d one f-ore mommy!" Accepting the desserts, they both smiled at him, before their eyes met, and a familiar spark caught them both. Nodding to himself, John galloped back into the kitchen.
They both chuckled at his antics: the sound of Amy's laugh causing Ricky's expression to harder, "What's your game here, Amy? You obviously didn't come back for George's wedding - so what is it? Did you come to your senses and realize how selfish you've been?" The last part mumbled under his breath, "Or did you finally listen to the hundreds of messages you've chosen to ignore?"
It was like she'd been trampled; left alone to bleed out on the floor. She was bent over, grasping her abdomen with her right arm as her left hand muffled her deep, hiccupping sobs. His words slicing her deep. Did he mean what he said? Does the man that she loves, truly hate her?
His footsteps were light, treading carefully; the tiny squeak in the floor from his sneaker, breaking through the silence. Neither said a word, but she turned and fell into his arms, embracing him as tight as she could.
"I'm sorry!" Ricky cried into her shoulder. His arms got tighter around her body, knowing his defenses were melting away, he was never good at expressing his vulnerability.
This was killing her as she nodded tearfully against his shirt, "I'm sorry too... I love you, but - "
He sniffled softly, "But if you love someone..."
Pulling back to look at his face, she saw the tears brimming in his eyes; the hardness being replaced with a soft and gentle pleading. "Finish it."
He exhaled slowly, his bottom lip starting to wobble ever so slightly, "...set them free... if they come back they're yours, and if they don't, they never were."
"I'm coming back, Ricky." She whispered, biting her own lip to keep it from wobbling
"I know, and when you do things will be different - I swear." They embraced again quickly, before pulling away.
This was it. This was the moment she was dreading. With a shaky breath, Amy moved her hand up to her chest, and removed the ring - the symbol of their love for each other - from her finger, and held it out to him. Ricky's quick reaction shocked her, shaking his head and closing the shiny gold band in her palm, "Keep it, it's yours, my mom gave it to you."
Shaking her head slowly, she gave a sad glance between his tear filled eyes, and the wedding band resting in her palm, biting her lip as the tears cascaded down her cheeks, "Give it back - let her know that when the time is right, we'll actually be worthy of wearing these again."
She glanced down at her naked hand, gulping back the lump forming in her throat, as he continued his string of verbal hurt; her ears muffling the sound of his rambling.
"...so if you just came back to manipulate me in giving you what you want, you can forget it! Board the plane back to New York because you're wasting your time, and mine!" In a huff, Ricky stomped back into the middle of the livingroom, grabbing various baby toys, and materials, and stuffing them inside the diaper bag next to the playpen. He had to remove himself before he said something he'd never be able to take back: the anger bubbling through his blood.
"Can we please just talk?" Amy huffed, following on his heels, "I know you're upset... but we both said and did things we regret..." Bending down to retrieve a toy he'd dropped before it rolled under the couch, she relented - holding it out to him with tears brimming her eyes, "please... just let me explain - just sit down so we -"
"No." Ricky deadpanned, taking the toy from her hands. She sniffled, turning on her heel slowly. Closing his eyes, he sighed, "I can't." Her back was to him, hand slowly going to her face to bite her nails: she did that when she didn't know what to say. Zipping up the bag, he sighed again, "I can't do this right now, Amy. I just can't."
George and Kathleen exchanged looks when he walked back through the kitchen, the frown on his face telling them what they wanted to know. Amy slowly walked in as well, sniffling softly against the back of her hand.
Seeing that she didn't disappear, John shot up from his chair, grabbing onto her hand and pulling her towards the back door, "C'mon mommy! It is t-i-me to go h-ome n-ow!"
The room fell silent, everyone's eyes shifting uncomfortably, not wanting to be the one who had to burst John's happy bubble.
"Um... actually buddy -" Ricky stared, taking a step towards him
She shook her head at Ricky, dismissing his need to step in, "It's okay..." Crouching down to John's level, she removed his hand from hers, running it through the buzzed hair by his ears, her voice starting to crack as she spoke, "I'm not going back to the apartment, John."
John's arms dropped to his sides, a hurt filled frown replacing the smile he'd had on his face, "But-but... you jus nee-d go h-ome wit me mommy..." He mumbled, lowering his head to look at his shoes, "Why you jus n-ot go-in to my hw-ouse?"
The waver in his squeaky voice was causing her chest to ache, but she stayed the course, knowing that keeping her distance was the best for them all. "I'm really really tired from riding in the airplane, buddy, so I'm gonna stay here with grandpa, and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning though, okay?" Amy tried to comfort, running her hand up and down his right arm before kissing his forehead.
He shook her away, hands immediately going to his eyes as he started to cry, "Nooooo!"
"No surprises this time, I mean it!" Amy huffed, folding the light blue blanket over twice before shoving it inside the green diaper bag. She was rushing because Jimmy was waiting for her outside.
Here they go again, the same argument. "I swear, no surprises. But you did say it was okay that Adrian was also coming over, right?" He responded, lifting John above his head as he cackled, "Because if not, I need to know now so I can call her. I don't want you coming by and storming off with him like the last time."
She swiped the hair from her face, biting her lip, "I said it was okay. Just... nevermind."
"What?" He questioned, pecking their son's cheek before gently tossing him again
She tried to smile, but it didn't come, "Nothing." He gave her another look, the one that said he knew something was bothering her. He knew what it was because he felt it too: the thought of their son having a good time without the other parent present; like doing something without the other was somehow a betrayal, even though they weren't together romantically and their son would never remember whatever they did.
Sighing, Amy looked directly at John, a small tip of her lip the best she could give Ricky, "Have fun with dada! I'll see you in the morning, okay baby?" She pulled away hesitantly, her eyes fixated on their baby, "Have a good night - I mean that."
Nodding, Ricky gave her a small smile, "Thanks, Amy. Go have fun, and don't worry about him, I've got him"
She nodded slowly, pursing her lips outward slightly, "I know, and I'm happy he has you."
Opening his mouth to thank her, and tell her what was bouncing around in his head - that her feelings were valid, and he felt the same way - he was cut off by John's squeal as he squirmed and outstretched his arms towards her, "Ma! Ma!"
Bouncing him, and taking his hand, waving it at her, "night-night mama, we'll see you tomorrow," Ricky smirked, and took the diaper bag from her hand, "night Amy."
The crying continued, escalating in volume as his little broken heart spilled into his sobs. She had caused this so really she should have been the one to deal with it. But Ricky knew it didn't work like that - he had to be the bad guy yet again. Or... he could allow her to come back with them and just sleep, couldn't he? This wasn't some girl off the street - it was the woman he loved; the mother of his children. They could be civil enough to share a bed without doing anything... right?
His thoughts were clouded, seeing flashes of her brown hair draped across her bare back as his fingers glided across the dip at the bottom of her spine. The invasion caused his lower hemisphere to tighten again, making him swallow quickly.
"I have an idea! Why don't we all have a sleepover?" George suggested, seeing the pain in his face, and feeling the uncomfortable tension surge through the air. It was his best remedy to the situation, a way to show his ex-son-in-law that a compromise could be reached.
Robbie nodded, pumping his fist through the air above his head, thrilled with the idea, "Yeh!"
John lifted his head slightly, one fist still pressed into his eye socket, the crying starting
"Da-da-de-eeeee!" John slobbered almost inaudibly, collapsing into his dad's chest
"What on earth - John, you scared me to death!" Grasping onto his shuttering frame, Ricky kissed his head repeatedly, letting his tears fall into his shaggy locks, "Don't you EVER do that again!" John continued to sputter and shake, his small hands locking themselves into the fibers of Ricky's shirt. Running his hand over John's head, Ricky finally choked out, "Why did you leave the apartment, buddy?"
It got relatively quiet, John's breathing slowly starting to even out, but what fell from his lips a moment before he started to choke on his cries again, tore the last few threads of Ricky's heart completely open.
John's eyes squinted and with a hiccupping breath he sobbed, "M-m-mommyyy!"
Ricky didn't see John grab his hand, or feel the gentle tug to his two fingers on his right hand.
"Pwease daddy..." John sniffled softly, rubbing his cheeks against the softer part of Ricky's palm.
Aa much as the idea of Amy keeping them by herself was logical, he was still battling with himself internally. Was he really going to deny his son and daughter time with their mother? Could he? Of course not, because by doing so it would hurt them. And he couldn't keep letting them get hurt. He could walk away, move on and say the hell with Amy, but John and Emma tied them together forever, and they needed that tie; they needed their parents to get along and be civil to each other for their happiness.
Ricky must have lingered too long with his answer, because he felt the pressure on his fingers again, John's watery eyes now peering up to him. He couldn't deny those eyes. "Alright." Nodding "I guess one sleepover wouldn't hurt - and this way they get some time with mommy." His lip tipped up at Amy's small smile, bending to be eye level with him, "Be good for mommy, I'll see you in the morning." John nodded quickly, releasing the hold on his hand. He stood back up, moving on to his younger child who yawned and flexed her fingers out towards him, and kissed her forehead - "night-night Emma, daddy will be back soon" Almost catching Amy's cheek when Emma squirmed in her grasp, his breath hitched, a shot of invisible electricity shooting through his fingertips - amongst other parts - as they grazed her forearm.
Amy felt it too, shifting her feet, and shifting the baby to her other side, awkwardly, as John grinned tiredly, "night daddy!"
Not wasting any time - partially because he didn't want his kids, nor the audience in the kitchen, to see what the slightest touch was doing to him after being away from it so long - Ricky shifted his feet and yanked on the door, fast walking almost to a sprint to his car.
George grinned, "What was that about?"
Trying to play coy to his question, Amy giggled and blushed, knowing why Ricky was so quick to rush out - because of what the slightest brush against her skin still did to him, "What?"
"I got here as fast as I could, is he okay?" He asked frantically, sprinting into the bedroom to the sound of their son's screeching.
She was crying too, bouncing and swaying him in her arms to try to calm him down. He screeched louder, flailing his arms and legs in discomfort. She sniffled as she turned to face him, "I don't think he feels good."
"What?" Ricky's face fell, quickly joining at her side and putting the back of his hand on the infant's forehead, "he feels warm to me." Her shaky inhale coupled with the look or fear in her eyes as John began to cough violently in-between cries, was enough to cause panic to seep into his features. Leaning further over their child, he could hear the rattle in his chest, "he sounds really congested - was he sick at the nursery?"
Amy shook her head, holding him tighter with tears brimming in her eyes, "What do we do?" John coughed some more, his small head shooting up each time he did. She bit her lip, begging Ricky with her stare to help her.
Ricky was at a loss; struck with panic as he ran his hand through his hair nervously, "Give him to me, and go call your mom - see what she says." Without rebuttle, she handed him over, grabbed her phone and bolted down the hallway. John coughed again, and then kept crying while sucking on his fingers. Ricky watched helplessly, going to the chair by the bed and propping him up into a sitting position against his torso. He didn't know much about sick babies, but he did know that they needed to be propped up in order for the congestion to not settle into their lungs.
She rushed back in the room, anger etched in her face, "she didn't answer! She's with stupid David, at that stupid house, and -" she ran her hand through her bangs, closing her eyes as he released more coughs. "I'm scared, Ricky..." Amy's lip was starting to wobble, pleading in her tear filled eyes.
20 minutes later, they both were pacing back and forth: her trying to calm down John while Ricky dialed her parents, Ashley, his parents, and Dr. Hightower, each time with no luck. Amy was starting to freak out, as John struggled with strangled cries that turned into harsh coughs. "Let me try my mom one more time" Nodding, she hoisted him higher up, holding the back of his head, and whispering into his tiny ear.
Margaret answered on the fourth ring, "Mom!" Ricky shouted into the receiver, "I need your help - John is sick" His brow furrowed, clutching the phone tighter in his hand, "What is that going to do - uh huh, but -" He nodded silently, biting his thumbnail, "and that should do it?" His eyes lifted up to meet hers, "Yeah, okay, bye." Hanging up, he blew out a breath.
"What did she say?" Amy's voice was cracking: straining with fatigue and fear as John started in again.
Putting his hands out, Ricky gently took their son from her, "Go into the bathroom, and turn on the shower, close the door and barricade the bottom. My mom said the steam will decongest him." She stood there crying, biting her nails, scared. "Hey, it's okay, I'm right behind you."
They were probably in there for at least a half hour. The room was so steamy, it was starting to sting his eyes as they lifted to hers. She was a few centimeters away, their knees close enough to touch. John's crying was starting to dissipate, turning to fussy whimpers as she held him in the bend of her right arm. Ricky stoked their son's hand with his fingers, thankful that he was able to breath without struggling.
The sweat rolled down her face, her hair damp and her clothes clinging to her skin. Too tightly. Ricky had to shift his eyes to the toilet seat because the sight of Amy's clothes clinging to her body: the shirt she was wearing showing off her rather perky chest, making his breath hitch and his jeans becoming increasingly more tight.
He gulped quickly, shifting slightly to try to conceal his impromptu erection, but the more he tried, the worse it became. He caught her stare, and the not-so-subtle way her lips parted having noticed his debacle. It was already awkward between them: this intimate-yet-non-intimate moment here in her bathroom, drenched in sweat, fawning over their son.
Knowing he wasn't going to escape this, Ricky slid John into his arms and stood up, "I uh - I'll just get him ready for bed -"
Amy nodded, but giggled under her breath quietly, waiting until he stepped out to adjust herself, and from the hallway he heard her mumble, "at least he didn't notice my boobs leaking..."
It was too late at that point, the memory only made it worse. Thankfully he was in his car where nobody could see what she did to him; what she still was able to do to him from not just a touch, but also the thought of her. The power she still held on him.
Contemplating on getting out and going into the guesthouse - presumably to pour out everything he was feeling to the woman he may or may not still love - Ricky shook his head and took out his phone.
"Hey... meet me at your place in 15 minutes..." He spoke huskily, his breathing slightly labored as he tried to swallow back his desire to remedy his situation.
"What are you doing?" He questioned, picking up the bat from the ground
He scoffed at his friend, tapping the tip of the other bat to his worn sneaker, "What's it look like I'm doing?"
They were standing feet from each other, separated by a chained fence, both slamming baseballs forcibly through the cage, "I meant - what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Amy?"
Slamming another ball, "Why?"
"Uh because she's back from New York and you've been saying how you wanted her to come back for weeks now."
Ricky paused, adjusting his stance "Yeah well... be careful what you wish for"
Swinging too quickly, the ball zoomed by Jack's head and hit the thick mat behind him, "What are you going to do about her being back?"
"For now -" Ricky exhaled deeply, "Nothing. She's only in town for the weekend, and then - who knows." Ringing out his left hand as the ball whizzed by, almost clipping his elbow, "Right now, I'm sure she's living it up with the kids while she can"
"Yeah, mom, I know -" She muttered through the phone, trying to jostle the screaming baby attached to her hip into a state of calm, while also shoving the device further against her cheek to grab his arm with the other hand, "John, no, off now!"
"No!" He was two steps up the ladder of the bunk bed, a frown on his face at her half-shout.
Emma's arm reached up, saliva covered fingers grabbing aggressively at her mother's face. Removing them upset her further, as another whine-filled scream, coupled with the ferocious kicking of her small legs against her ribs, made her wince, "I'll call you back-"
Hanging up, Amy tossed the phone onto the chair, and unpeeled the irritable infant from her body, placing her in the recliner, "Why are you so upset, huh?" Emma flexed her fingers against the leather, momentarily quieting down before erupting into fussy whimpers again. "If you're so tired, why don't you go to sleep?" Amy comforted, leaning forward to tuck a few stray curls behind her ear.
Walking up next to the chair, John put his hand on her head, patting it gently, as she continued to cry, and lifted his eyes to Amy, "Em-ma jus wants daddy..."
"Do you really think she's coming to the wedding though? Doesn't Amy like hate Kathleen?" Jack asked, chomping on a handful of candy from a box he had in his back pocket
Ricky's face scrunched in disgust at his friend using his dirty hands to eat, "That's what she says -"
Swallowing, and opening the cage door, "Maybe she's not really here for the wedding - maybe she went crazy in New York and came back to try to kidnap your kids or something since you're taking her to court?"
Pausing from running his hand through his hair after removing the helmet, Ricky's brow furrowed, giving Jack the biggest what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look. "What - Jack, Amy maybe selfish, but she's not stupid enough to risk going to jail." Picking the bat back up, he swung at the air, "Do me a favor, change the subject - talk about you, or sports, or whatever -"
"Okay... I went to see Dr. Fields this morning..."
"Good, and?"
Jack nodded, "It was... until I slept with Madison afterwards -" Hanging his head to look at his shoes, "I didn't mean for it to happen! She came back into town and I bumped into her at the gas station and -"
"I don't need the details!" Ricky snapped, shaking his head in disapproval, "Madison? I thought all of that was over between you two?"
"So did I, but - You know how it is: two people who loved each other, haven't seen each other in awhile and they just... Amy's back too -"
"So? That doesn't mean we're going to have sex with each other."
Jack nodded again, "Because you're sleeping with Clementine?"
Pursing his lips, Ricky cut his eyes away, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
Biting his lip as he continued to speed down the intersection, he fought the urge to scream. Amy was flooding every inch of his mind, and his body was reacting; her lips soft and salty as they molded against his, and the way she knew exactly how to move to make him moan into her neck... or the way her hands made him wither at her fingertips...
The tightening increased to an almost unbearable level; fighting desperately not to just pull over and allow the invasive thoughts to send him over the edge, he arrived at his destination - but only got about two steps from the main door before turning on his heels and bolting back to his car.
"No not because I'm - never-mind!" Ricky huffed, stomping over to the other side of the fence to collect his jacket
Sitting down on the bench, Jack poured another handful of candy into his hand, "I thought sleeping with Madison would clear my head - and now... now I don't know how to feel... Should I take her to the wedding?"
"I wouldn't." Ricky deadpanned, shrugging and stuffing his hands into his pockets
Jack nodded slowly, a blank look on his face, "You're bringing Clementine though, right? Or are you going with Amy?"
Releasing a big exhale, Ricky rolled his eyes, "One step forward, 10 steps back."
Continuing to rock back and forth in the recliner, Amy closed the book in her hands, moving it away from Emma and her saliva laced fingers as she hiccupped through wails, "You're tired - you know how I know that? Because you haven't stopped screaming for the last 3 hours, and you're eyes are red." She sighed softly, running her fingers through her daughter's curls, and placing a light kiss on her head, "All you have to do is just lay down and go to sleep."
"Mommy!" John lifted his head up from the pillow dramatically, rustling the covers
Amy sighed again, rocking back and forth with her heels, "I know buddy, I'm working on it." Taking her phone out, she dialed quickly, and held her breath for him to actually answer at almost midnight. When he did, her brow furrowed, "I need your help"
10 minutes later there was a soft knock before he entered, hands outstretched to free her from her distraught, overly-tired, child.
Amy passed the baby to her dad, before handing over the blanket, "Good night." Once they were safely outside, she closed the door and expelled air from her cheeks, climbing into the bottom section of the bunk bed beside the boy. He beamed at her, his tired brown eyes sparkling as she snuggled against him.
His feet and head were sore, having stood on the concrete slab for what felt like hours, and having to listen to Jack drone on and on about Madison for the same amount of time. Flipping on the light to the kitchen, he sighed, forgetting the disarray of the apartment they'd all left that morning: a sippy cup upside down, a bottle on the sofa cushion, various articles of clothing strewn around the livingroom floor, while blocks and rattles covered a large portion of the coffee table. He'd planned on cleaning it up after he'd picked the kids up, and put them to bed, but obviously that didn't happen. Shaking his head at the mess, Ricky flicked the light off and walked into the bedroom, glancing around at the empty beds before sitting on John's; grasping the raggedy teddy bear by its matted stomach as he pulled out his phone.
"Its me. It's me Amy. Leave a message!" The voicemail sang out, a nice reminder to before everything blew up for them: a break from the harsh robotic "voicemail full" message he was used to hearing.
Hanging up, he tossed the phone on the nightstand, tipping his lip us as he fiddled with the stuffed animals grimy ear.
The Next Morning
"Mommy, Em-ma is hwun-gry!" John shouted, trying to be heard over his sisters fairly loud wailing. Emma was gripping his arm as it draped over the side of the playpen, wanting his attention. He wrinkled his nose at her, holding up the pacifier clipped to her unicorn footie pajamas.
Turning off the stove, and sliding the semi-burnt piles of pancakes onto a plate, Amy blew some hair away from her face, and threw open the fridge to grab her daughters breakfast, "I hear her, I'm coming!" Sprinting over to the playpen, the small package of baby yogurt opened, she knelt down beside it, and dipped the spoon inside.
Galloping over to the counter, John took a pancake from the pile, biting into it just as the door opened roughly. "Hi, daddy!" He greeted with a grin, stuffing more breakfast into his mouth.
Lifting him into his arms, Ricky smiled at him, "Morning -" before it turned to a frown upon seeing a dark spot the size of a quarter on his son's arm, "what is this?" He looked at Amy with hard eyes, turning his head back to the boy when she didn't answer, "What happened to your arm?"
John didn't seem fazed by his dad's frustration, zipping his jacket up and down absent-mindedly, "I f-all-ded off the wad-der an-d an-d jus hittted my arm!"
Ricky's eyes widened at his confession, "You what?"
Amy sighed, putting the spoon back into the yogurt container, "It was my fault - he was sleeping next to me and got up in the middle of the night. Curiosity got the best of him and he tried to climb the ladder - I checked him out, he only got the bruise and a little scrape."
John nodded, holding up his arm, "Yeh it jus h-urt-ded for a little bit d-ou-gh. I f-ine!"
Putting John back on his feet, Ricky put his hands on his hips, "I'm glad - you couldn't have called me?"
"To administer a band-aid?" Amy scoffed at his nod, going back to feeding their infant, "Geez, you act like he got impaled."
He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, zeroing in on his daughter pushing the purple spoon away from her mouth, "What is she eating?"
"Seriously?" She scoffed again, glancing between their daughter, and him, "It's yogurt - why?"
Furrowing his brow, he stomped over to them, holding out his hand for the container. Rolling her eyes, she exhaled angrily, but gave it to him anyway, knowing he wouldn't let it go. Silently, Ricky bit his bottom lip, and shook his head angrily, "Amy - this is pudding!"
Amy's eyes widened in disbelief, yanking the container back from his hand, "What - that's impossible - " seeing that it did, indeed, say "pudding" on the torn opening, her brow creased, "How the hell did that happen?"
"Maybe if you actually read the labels -" He muttered, removing their child from the playpen, and shutting up when she glared at him, "Anything else I should know about?" She shrugged. "How was your night?"
She shrugged again, going to sit down at the table beside him, "It was fine - why? Don't trust them sleeping around me?"
"Em-ma jus cwy-ed all night." John stated nonchalantly, poking holes into his pancake with the tip of his index finger, "She cwy cuz you not hwere, daddy"
Ricky saw the way Amy lowered her eyes to the table, guilt and shame no doubt racing through them. Jostling Emma in his arms, and handing her a toy, he softened his eyes at them, "Emma's not used to being away from her bed, buddy, she'll be okay next time - won't you, Emma?" Emma grunted, shaking the toy in her hands before thrusting it to her mouth.
John wrinkled his nose at her, "Mommy - d-eez p-an-caks are yucky!"
His outburst made them both chuckle, reaching out to take the hardened pancake from his fingers, "Why don't I make us some breakfast?" Ricky handed her the baby, and threw the contents of the plate away.
"Did I wake you?" Ricky asked her as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing his black t-shirt, tugging it down to cover herself. His back was turned to her, busy flipping something inside a skillet. He'd gotten up about an hour ago, and the bed felt strangely empty without him.
She must have stood and stared too long because he immediately put the spatula down and walked over to her, "What's wrong?"
Shrugging silently, a million thoughts flooding her mind, she put her arms around him, "Nothing"
"Are you okay? Do you... want to talk about last night?" His voice was soft, pecking the top of her head lovingly. She didn't respond, just snuggled further into his chest. He smiled down at her, leaning his head down to kiss her lips.
She closed her eyes, savoring the moment; the quiet passing in time, wrapped inside his arms before the bubble busted and the world around them collapsed. "No, do you?"
He shook his head, brushing her cheek with his thumb, "we can if you want... is there?
She shook her head, fighting the urge to giggle at his prodding, "Nothing, except I love you"
He smirked, "And I love you," lip tipping up enough to show the dimple in his cheek, "are you hungry?"
This time, she did giggle, "Ricky Underwood, did you make me breakfast?" It was sweet, and the way he tried to hide the little smile he made, filled her with warm feelings that he had come such a long way since that night at Band camp. She stared at him adoringly - the same way she had hours earlier when he'd brought their son into bed with them; still reveling in the night they shared: the intimate moment that solidified the love they carried for each other.
Turning on her heels when the patter of little feet came down the hallway. "Good morning, baby!" John's hair was sticking up - bedhead matching that of Ricky's - and he was fisting his eye, tiredly hiccupping with one arm outstretched. Guiding him by the hand over to the table, Amy lifted him into his highchair, giggling at the way he yawned and stared blankly, still half asleep. "Look buddy, daddy made us pancakes!"
Emma squealed, babbling incoherently and pointing to him. "Daddy always makes the best pancakes, huh?" Amy squealed back, tickling their daughter's stomach with her fingertips, sneaking a look, and a smile, at Ricky
Emma continued to point, grunting before giving a two-teethed grin, "Da-da!"
Amy nodded along, the smile on her face turning down slightly as a small pain went through her chest, remembering their current situation, "Yeah."
"Are we - are we jus go-in to a big s-wide?" John asked through a mouthful of non-burnt pancake, looking directly at her
Cutting up her pancake into tiny bits, Ricky fed a piece to Emma, "What slide - where are we going?"
Amy swallowed, taking a sip of her water, "I was just telling John about this new like Waterpark thing they opened about a half hour away -" taking another sip, "I was thinking about taking them this afternoon, since the weather is going to be hotter than usual."
Ricky pursed his lips at her, "Is that a good idea? You just got back into town - you really want to take two small children by yourself? Do you even know where this place is?"
She shrugged his annoyance off, "I'll GPS it - it's not that far -" Sighing when he cut his eyes down and hardened his jaw, she put her fork down, "Do you want to go? Will that ease your mind?"
They were getting along so well, and she just had to ruin it by annoying him with a ridiculous request.
Exhaling a little too loudly, his brow raised, not knowing what to say in order not to start some kind of argument with her.
He opened his mouth to speak, but got cut off by John's excited lilt as he took a sip from his sippy cup, "w-ets go, daddy!" Making Ricky sigh.
"Where were you? You said noon - it's almost 2!" He stated, aggravated, taking the carrier from her hands
John ran up to him, thrusting a Hot Wheel into the air, "Look daddy! I got a n-ew bwue car!"
"That's nice, buddy" Faking enthusiasm with a noticeable frown on his face. Amy brushed past him, juggling bags on both arms, "Seriously - where were you? And why didn't you answer your phone?"
Walking into the kitchen, she rolled her eyes, "I was at the store, and I couldn't answer my phone because our baby refused to sit in the cart seat - leading me to have to carry her the whole time." She raised her brow, "Satisfied?"
Doing the same, he pursed his lips before glancing over to their children sharing the kitchen table: John was rolling that car around the car seat while Emma tried to grab it from him, grunting each time she missed it.
"Look - isn't this cute? It was the last one so hopefully it'll fit her-" Amy grinned, holding up an outfit attached to a small hanger: the garment covered in splashes of cartoon watermelons.
Unamused, "Sure. Adorable." Ricky crossed his arms over his chest, getting more annoyed, "I've been here for over an hour waiting for you - you could have shot me a text." Stuffing the outfit into the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she rolled her eyes again, prompting him to copy, "Are we going or not?"
"C'mon mommyyyy!" He whined, kicking his feet back and forth atop her legs impatiently, "I wanna go p-way with daddy!" Pointing to the other side of the park where his dad and baby sister were.
"Stop squirming, and you'll be done." She huffed, blowing hair from her face and rubbing the cream into his skin: keeping her focus on her ex and their daughter splashing around the stream of water shooting into the air.
Lifting his head, and widening his eyes as he shrieked "Whoa!" Squirming further on her lap.
About to scold him, Amy closed her mouth and raised her brow at them coming back over to the row of chairs.
"Well... we're not a fan of the elephant, I guess" Ricky chimed, adjusting the whimpering baby clawing into his shoulder, "are we?" Emma started to cry, shoving a closed fist into her eye. "Did she have a nap before we left?"
Amy pursed her lips, wiping the excess sunscreen from her hands to her thighs, "She fell asleep in the car - but it wasn't very long. She also didn't sleep much last night." Standing up, she stretched before holding her hands out, "Do you want me to -"
Shaking his head, he glanced over at John playing by himself, and the small little frown on his face, "I got it, you go have fun." She raised her brow at him, but before she could ask if he was sure, John ran over and grabbed her hand, pulling her away.
Watching them - and the way she seemed to just fall back into her playful self with their son - made Ricky smile, earning an irritable open palmed slap to the chest, and another fussy cry.
"I g-ot you!" John cackled giddily, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a giant squinted grin, and a water gun nestled inside his palms.
Dodging the spray from the other side, Amy sprinted with her arms covering her head, "No fair, daddy ran behind me!"
"Don't blame me because your water gun sucks!" Ricky chuckled, running up and unleashing the remaining contents of the oversized water toy on her. She shrieked, rushing behind their son in hopes she'd be safe. She was not, getting tag teamed as he pelted her, and laughed loudly. She was still shrieking, trying to find a place that would shield her. He glanced over at the row of chairs a few feet away, watching as their daughter napped peacefully inside the stroller.
It had taken him 45 minutes, and a frozen banana from a concession stand, to get her down: having been over-tired and irritable from not taking a nap, nor more than 12 hours of sleep that whole week.
Smirking, his finger tapped the trigger and didn't let up, "Get her, John!" Obeying, John nodded and ran over, standing on the opposite side.
Amy was struggling as her soaked locks kept getting in her eyes; fingers slipping from the trigger, "Why won't this stupid thing -" and sending a blast of cold water directly into Ricky's face. "Op!" She drew back, surprised, but couldn't keep herself from busting into a fit of giggles.
Ricky's brow rose, shaking off the droplets, a wicked snarl on his lips, "Oh now you've done it -" Putting the water gun down by his sons feet, he tackled her: laughing maniacally as she gasped and squealed over his shoulder.
She was laughing too, clutching onto the hem of his shorts as he brought them over to the waterfall, before her eyes widened and she started to screech, "No, no, Ricky, don't - N -" dousing her under the avalanche, and soaking them both. "Hey!" She tired to scream at him through her laughter, but it just came out as a loud snort. The smile spanning Ricky's entire face, showcasing both his dimples.
They were happy. And it was nice.
Coming up behind them, John struggled, dragging the water gun but still managing to to get his mom in the abdomen, making his dad chuckle, "Good job, buddy!"
The hair was matted to Amy's face; the two-piece blue bikini she was wearing so drenched it had turned almost to a black color. She was struggling to regain composure from laughing so much. Ricky's hair was plastered to his skin too; his curls hidden under the weight of water, while his abs glistened. She snuck a peak, admiring him seemingly shining against the sunlight, and biting her lip affectionately.
It almost felt... normal?
Without much thought she started to laugh again, leaning over and shaking herself out, like a dog, all over him; her brown locks smacking him in the forehead.
He smirked, pulling back against her childish antics, "Oh really?" She said nothing, just kept giggling and nodded, prompting an eyebrow raise and a tongue-to-cheek look down at their son, "John - hand me your water gun -" Doing so, the boy drug it over, giggling into his hand. Ricky took it, positioning it over his shoulder, "Now, stand behind me while we get mommy!" Lowing it to his chest, he tapped the trigger.
Grabbing a discarded water toy from the ground, Amy smirked, putting her hand out in a 'come on' motion towards them, "Bring it!"
With the tilt of his head, he unleashed the spritz from the nozzle, quick stepping away from her: dodging her attacks, and making her squeal until he ran out of ammo. Shrugging, he tossed it to the ground, continuing to weave and dodge quickly until his hands were able to grasp onto her weapon - and inadvertently her wet skin: the action getting him a swift round to the face
She shrieked through giggles, "Gotcha!"
Ditching the toy when he stepped back to wipe the water dripping into his eyes. Her hand brushed against his wet skin, breath hitching at the prickle of electricity between them.
Ricky looked up, having felt it too, and met her eyes, both mere inches from each other's lips. His parted slightly, taking little nervous inhales as the water dripped down his jaw, and his hands brushed against her again.
Amy's eyes stayed on his, biting her lip to keep from panting at the fact that she wanted to kiss him; wanted to feel his wet lips against hers, and the hands that kept teasing her, on her waist. She gulped it back, releasing a long exhale, which only made his brown eyes sparkle more. Both lost in a singular moment of yearning for the other.
John was watching them, grinning wide, and not paying attention to his surroundings before stepping - and slipping on - the water gun discarded on the ground: resulting in a tumble face forward, and a ear splitting howl, "Owwww!"
"John!" Ricky whipped his head towards his sons screaming, bolting over to him.
Amy followed, gasping into her hand as she reached him, "John - what happened, baby?"
Crouching down to scoop him up from the concrete, Ricky put his hands under John's body, "C'mere, buddy -" bringing him to the chair nearby.
"M-m-mom-myyyy!" John slobbered, outstretching his arms towards her. His screeching waking his sister, who also started to cry in hysterics.
Amy watched his jaw clench, and his eyes lower in hurt as he stood, "Ricky, wait - he didn't mean -" She tried to protest, grabbing his wrist, but he pulled away and took off in a stomp over to their wailing daughter. Sighing, she gathered John in her embrace, trying to get her mind off what had just happened, "It's okay, John..." as she kissed his head, scrunching his dampened hair with her fingers, "Everything is going to be okay..."
"You didn't have to just storm off like that!" She fumed, adjusting the harness of their son's booster seat to fit the towel he was wrapped in, inside her SUV, "He was scared, and - it was nothing personal." John was crying again, sniveling under the fists pressed into both his eyes. Ricky sat in the passenger seat, stewing over the incident.
After Amy had taken control with John, Ricky stormed off to attend to their other child, shrieking for human attention. The kid who actually wanted him. He knew he was being childish, but a part of him didn't care: John wanting Amy over him felt like a giant slap in the face given all they've been through the past few months. So, instead of being an adult, Ricky chose to act like an ass, grabbed the baby, and all their belongings, and took off to the parking lot.
Adjusting the red t-shirt over her wet bikini top, Amy climbed into the driver's seat, turning towards him, and opening her mouth to speak.
"I don't want to talk about this -" Ricky interjected, roughly, looking ahead to the crowded parking lot, "Can you just drive - silently- please?"
Coming to a slow stop in the middle of an almost empty parking lot, she scrunched her face, "Is this it?" He didn't answer, just unclicked his belt and put his hand on the door. "Are you just not speaking to me now?" He continued his bout of silence, making her sigh.
Getting out of the car, Ricky threw open the back door, unfastening their daughters car seat from the base. "Are you coming, John? Or are you staying with mommy?" He half-growled, not looking up as he grabbed the diaper bag from the floorboard and slung it over his shoulder. John didn't answer, sniffling against the fists going to his eyes.
"I'll just take him to get something to eat - I'm starving." Amy mumbled, turning in her seat to brush his tear stained cheeks with her hand, "Just get back in the car and we'll all go together, my treat."
Shaking his head, Ricky's eyes got hard, "Enjoy," Slamming the door forcibly before making the walk to the front entrance.
Pounding a closed fist, his brow furrowed at the loud clatter on the other side, hearing her voice shout through it roughly before throwing the door open. "It's about time!" She beamed, leaning against the frame
His eyes were hard, "Can we talk?" She nodded, moving to the side to allow them in, smiling at the baby reaching out from the car seat. He half-smiled, looking around the quaint space and putting the carrier on one of the couch cushions, "Nice place..."
Nora's smile widened, walking over to the little two-seat dinette table on the other side of the sofa, "Thanks! Does that mean you'll stay for dinner?"
Ricky raised a brow, "You cook now?"
She did the same, clicking her tongue, "I do - I can -" His higher brow rise, made her chuckle, "Alright, I'll order takeout!"
He chuckled lightly, "Point me to your kitchen and I'll whip us up something"
Winking playfully, she pointed a finger at him, and nodded, "I won't deny that."
"Hey, buddy - can you sit and eat please?" Amy scolded, lightly grabbing his wrist to still him from jumping off the chair again.
John grunted, lowering his head with a chicken finger in his hands, "I wanna go p-way wit the bwig cars!"
"We will - but you have to eat first, okay?" He grunted again, chomping slowly. Taking a bite of the pizza on her plate, she pursed her lips, "So... how have you been?" He squinted, but didn't answer, continuing the slow chomps of his food. "What have you and Emma been doing with daddy? Anything fun?"
He nodded, "Uh huh..." thrusting his hand into the air, "Daddy jus hit the b-alls so far!"
"Oh, fun!" She feigned enthusiasm, "Did he - did daddy take you to play baseball or something?" Fiddling with the napkin, she glanced over at him as he nodded, "Did he go alone, or with someone?"
Dipping his chicken finger into the massive glob of ketchup, "J-ack!" He swirled it around, making her grimace, "J-acks arm h-urts all the t-wime an-d he's sad."
"Does daddy and Jack hang out alot?" She questioned, scooting up further in her chair. He nodded, swaying his head. "Does daddy hang out with anyone else?" She
was pressing, wanting the information nobody else would tell her. Taking a piece of chicken from the plate, she broke it in half, and handed the other piece to him, "Does daddy... maybe...hang out with... Clementine...?"
Biting his lip, John nodded slowly, "Yeh... I do-n't wike her!" Mumbling into his food, "She jus a bad l-wady!" Before rubbing a fist into his eye, "I mw-iss you mommy..."
Stroking the hair by his ears, Amy comforted, "I miss you too, baby"
They sat in silence for a few seconds, both paying attention to their plates, before he started fiddling with his fingers, and asked sadly, "Mommy... do you - do you jus luv me?"
His question shook her; knocking the breath from her lips, "What? John, of course I love you! I've never not loved you -" She was flabbergasted, unable to properly respond in a way that he would be able to grasp, and in a way that would prevent her from seeing red at the thought of someone telling her son such a heinous lie! "Did somebody say something to you? Did someone say I didn't love you?" Her tone cracked, on the verge of angry tears.
"Uh huh..." His eyes lowered, rubbing his other fist into them, a tear sliding down his cheek, "Tw-evors mommy s-ed my mommy do-n't luv me ne-more..." He was crying now, struggling to speak through his little hiccups, "An-d, an-d he jus m-ade me s-sad an-d I h-itt-ded him!"
The sound of his sobs was breaking her, fighting back breaking down herself as she touched his knee, "Well, that's not true. And Trevor's mommy doesn't need to say those kinds of things." Lifting his chin up to her, "Listen to me - there is never going to be an instance where I ever stop loving you, okay? No matter what happens, or where I am - you and Emma are always going to be my babies. You and your sister are single handedly the most important people to me - and I will always love you. Don't ever question that, okay?" Amy's voice was stern, softening when she reached over and stroked his hand, "Okay?"
Nodding, John swiped his cheeks a couple of times, and sniffled, "O.K..."
"Wait - she's back -" She paused mid bite, eyes widening, "like here, here?"
Shoveling a forkful of pasta into his mouth, he nodded, "Yep."
"And she didn't call you to tell you she was coming? Not even a text?"
"Nope." Swallowing, "I got to see her in Kathleens livingroom, holding Emma."
"What did she say?" Nora was leaning against the armrest, plate in hand
Taking another forkful, "Not much...But I didn't say much either... What is there to say?" Tucking his hand over his mouth, brow raised, "Hey I know you left me and our kids, and cut off contact because I'm apparently a shitty husband and you wanted a different life, but... hey?"
She rolled her eyes, glancing at her granddaughter in her lap trying to grab the fork, "Maybe not like that, but don't you want to know what she's doing here? What her plan is?"
Getting up, Ricky put his plate on the table, and reached into the diaper bag, pulling out a half-full bottle, "Why? So she can just tell me I'm the problem of her life and she's going back to New York?" Handing it over to his daughter, who took it with a whine, "She's only here for the wedding apparently, and then she's going back."
"You sure about that?" Nora raised her brow, "You sure you don't have some hidden feelings about her being back? Maybe some... "
"Mom!" He snapped a bit too harshly, making him close his eyes and sigh a few seconds later, "Drop it, alright. She's here, she's staying for the weekend and then she's going back. That's just what is." Nodding, she swiped her fingers across her lips, invisibly zipping them closed.
They ate in silence for the rest of the time, until Emma decided to break it, finishing off the rest of the bottle before tossing it to the floor and starting in on her whimpering quest to get down on the floor. Ricky glanced around, noting that the place wasn't the least bit baby-proofed and expelled a breath slowly as his daughters whines increased in pitch and volume. Standing up, he gathered her into his arms and started walking around the apartment - stopping on a patch of fluffy light blue carpeting.
Nora's eyes widened in pride, "Oh, open that closet!" urging him with a wave of her hand. Furrowing his brow, he touched the handle of the small double door closet, and pushed it open: revealing a 6-shelf cubby filled with various toys, diapers, snacks, and a playpen. "I wanted John and Emma to have things here... just in case..." She stated lowly, tipping her lip up in a smile.
He did the same, putting the baby down on the carpeting - trying to avoid getting emotional, "Thanks... I appreciate it."
They stayed in awkward silence: him taking a seat on the carpet next to Emma as she banged two blocks together before shoving them to her mouth.
"When I saw her - Amy - standing in that livingroom... I really had hopes that things could go back to the way they were..." Ricky sniffled, biting the tip of his bottom lip, keeping his gaze on the baby, "But the more I stared at her... the more I could hear John's cries in the middle of the night for her... and the anger just took over." Pausing, he swallowed, "But today... we went to a waterpark... and being there, it really felt like it used to: like we could be us again... Until I became an ass and screwed that up too!"
Emma squealed, kicking her legs as she threw the pink block at him and giggled. Scratching his left eyebrow, Ricky scoffed lowly, "I got upset because John reached for her when he fell down." Turning it into a sad chuckle when Nora took a seat beside them, "I actually got upset at my toddler son for wanting the comfort of his mother - How pathetic is that?"
"Pretty pathetic" Nora chuckled back, moving the hair away from the baby's eyes, "but you have the right to feel how you feel - it's understandable that you'd be upset about it. You've been here for John since Amy left, and he chose her over you."
"No he didn't!" Ricky snarled defensively, cutting his eyes away, "And even if he did, he's three, and it wasn't on purpose."
"Mommmyyyy" He whined into her shoulder, twirling his fingers in the hair that draped her shoulders - fighting sleep and fidgeting, "h-ome mommy..."
Hiking him further up her torso, Amy groaned, because carting John sprawled across her body was much easier when he was little, and lighter. "Almost there, buddy." Pushing the door open, she was unprepared for what awaited, and shrieked in horror.
"Oh my God!" Grace shrieked, eyes the size of saucers and mouth agape - matching that of the guy she was on top of on the recliner, "Amy! What are you doing here?"
Keeping her eyes closed, Amy rooted with her right hand blindly for the door handle, unable to speak beyond a shocked stutter, "I - I - bye" Slamming it behind her, and glancing at John, "That was awful..."
Coming up the driveway from the other side of the guesthouse, he startled her, "I take it things didn't go well with Ricky?" Standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. She frowned at him, stepping past him to go through the door. George stepped behind her, "you can't avoid me forever, Ames."
She turned the doorknob slowly, pausing in the frame and turning on her heel, "I just want to get through this weekend with my kids. No more -" mouth agape when she turned around, "surprises..."
Sitting at the kitchen table, Ashley smirked against the mug in her hands, "Hey, sis."
Tiptoeing through the livingroom, Nora smiled adoringly at her son's sleeping figure: his head lolling to the right atop one of the few throw pillows; light snores escaping his lips. It reminded her of the few moments of Ricky's childhood where she was sober enough to watch him sleep.
A mumbled whiny cry broke her thoughts. The baby in the playpen grasping onto the bar with one hand, while the other reached out towards him, "Da!"
Nora wrinkled her nose at Emma, putting her index finger to her lips, "you awake now?" Lifting her into her arms as she whined more and started to stumble backwards. Pointing again, Emma patted the pacifier in her mouth irritability, squinting and reaching for Ricky again.
"We're gonna let daddy sleep, while you and Grandma have a little sleepover!" Nora cooed, jostling her until they reached the bedroom. Emma squinted again, clutching her grandmothers shirt collar as she was being carted to the bed.
Three jiggles of the key finally popped the pesky lock, opening up to the dark, empty apartment. His car was there, but judging by the quiet, neither he, nor Emma were.
Releasing a breath of relief, she didn't know she was holding in having had a very crappy last half of the day, Amy tiptoed around the clutter. John twitched against her, mumbling sleepily into her hair. She smiled tiredly, doing her best to lay him in his bed without waking him.
Unsuccessful, his eyes squinted, "m-mom-"
"Shhhhh" She comforted, pulling the covers over him, and swiping his forehead with her hand, "it's okay buddy, go back to sleep" His eyes closed, head lolling to the side of his pillow - reminding her of Ricky.
She sighed, exhaustion washing over her as she made the trek to the cluttered couch: taking a seat and slowly descending down onto the cushion until her cheek brushed the soft material. A small little hiss-like-squeak came from behind, getting her attention. Reaching blindly behind her back, her fingers brushed the familiar rubber; the once vibrant lion now stained by teeth marks and scratches.
"What are you doing?" She tiredly asked him, stifling a yawn as she bent down to retrieve a bib, a hot wheels car, and four cheese puffs from under the table.
He was face down on the floor, arms at his sides, groaning, "Just leave me here"
It was almost midnight and they'd both been up for over 24 hours with one sick child, and another unhappy one. John had caught something from daycare, and they'd both spent their time going back and forth with him; neither one getting more than a 10 minute break between pull ups, diaper changes, washing sippy cups, changing sheets, cleaning up puke coupled with John's crying, and Emma's screaming.
Amy's eyes were drooping, struggling against the sleep her body desperately craved. "Ricky!" She half-shouted, half-giggled, chucking a throw pillow at his unmoving body. He'd given up, and she didn't blame him. The frustration between them was evident: short tempered, and snappy each time one of them had to attend to one of the kids.
Ricky groaned again, mustering up enough energy to roll onto his back, mumbling from under his arm draped over his face, "Ricky isn't here. He died from exhaustion."
She was about to counter his statement, when the baby monitor in her hand lit up, and the ear splitting screeching followed - signifying that sleep was becoming more and more out of reach. He moaned into the air, causing her to roll her eyes as she padded down the hallway and into the room, coming back a minute later with a screaming baby pressed against her shoulder, and a crying toddler grasping onto her shirt tail.
"Enaaah! Enaaaahhh!" Emma screeched, flailing her arms as she rubbed her face against Amy's shirt: overtired and trying to hold her head up.
Ricky was still on the floor, fingers pressed into his eye sockets as he struggled to raise himself up into a sitting position, "When will it end?"
Adjusting Emma better in her left arm, Amy struggled to lift John one handed onto her other hip. His arms immediately clasped around her neck, burrowing into her shoulder. She sighed, "His fever broke... hopefully this is just a 24 hour bug or something" glancing at their son with sad eyes; wishing she could put it on herself, "Does your tummy still hurt, baby?" John whined into her ear, nodding with a swipe to his eye with his fist.
Ricky must have noticed her demeanor, now off his feet with his hands held out.
Sliding John into his grasp, she sighed again, and put her hand over their daughters small head, "So far she's still normal."
"Normal?" Ricky scoffed, flopping onto the littered couch cushion by his nightstand, "You call screaming for hours on end, and spitting up every feeding, normal?"
She frowned at him, "She's probably just colicky - John did it too at around this age" mumbling, and lowering her eyes, knowing he hated it when she reminded him of his shortcomings in the first year of their son's life. He rolled his eyes, too tired to offer a comeback. "As long as she doesn't start running a fever, she should be fine"
"Enaaaaahhhh!" Emma wailed into her ear, using the razor blades of her nails to grasp onto her collarbone, making her wince.
Bending slowly to pick up one of their daughters pacifiers from the couch, she put it into her mouth and started to bounce her gently around the room. She glanced over to him from her spot near the bookshelf, a weak smile coming to her face upon seeing his head bowed against their son's, as they both snoozed with their lips slightly parted.
Going into the bedroom, Amy tried for 3 hours to calm Emma: bouncing, swaying, rocking, and feeding, and each time the same result. It was half past 3 in the morning, and she was at her wits end.
"Emma, please..." She pleaded, voice cracking with fatigue as she paced the room for what felt like the hundredth time, "please baby, just go to sleep" Emma's response was a loud whine, followed by a large amount of regurgitated breast milk.
Amy grimaced, throwing her head back and exhaling deeply, before placing the baby on the change table to clean up the mess the best she could while she squirmed and whimpered. She pursed her lips, and stroked her fist tenderly, wishing that she could take away her discomfort.
Tiptoeing back into the livingroom, she inhaled slowly, keeping a firm grip on her daughter's sleeping body in her arms - it taken another spit up, and a warm bath, but she was finally down.
Slowly, Amy lowered them onto the sofa, biting her lip apprehensively when Emma twitched, but thankfully didn't wake.
"Ames," he whispered sleepily, the shift of her sitting down, waking him, "you look exhausted... how long have you been awake? What time is it?" He blinked a couple of times before looking at her.
Putting her finger to her lips, she glanced down at the infant: the steady rise and fall of her breathing, sending a calm through her. Ricky's lip tipped up slightly, motioning with the tilt of his head to join him. She sighed deeply and carefully held the baby's head with her hand as she snuggled into the small portion of his right side that wasn't pinned under their son. Lying her head on his shoulder, she sighed again as he planted a soft kiss against her hair, "I'm sorry - do you want me to put them in their beds?" He mumbled, fighting his drooping eyelids.
"Shhhh," she responded, also fighting her drooping eyelids, stroking their daughters curls with her fingers, "why risk waking them? Let's just enjoy the silence, and try to sleep." She yawned, releasing a small little giggle, "Besides, I'm pretty sure a rubber lion is trying to ram me in the butt."
Nodding, Ricky stifled a yawn through a small chuckle, "I love you"
Burrowing her head deeper into his shoulder, she nodded slowly, getting as comfortable as she could, letting a quiet, "I love you too" pass her lips before her body lost the battle and her eyes closed in desperate slumber.
Amy closed her eyes, letting the tears slide down her cheeks as she clutched onto it and cried; holding that dingy toy like it was a lifeline: like it somehow would right all the wrong she blamed herself for.
Hopefully you enjoyed that. Send me some good thoughts to my brain so I can write the next chapter, please! Until then, stay tuned...