Spooked challenge by china shop
Oct. 28th, 2009 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Frannie gen, 500 words, G-rated. Character death.
Thanks and more thanks to
mergatrude for beta.
Visitation Rights
Josie was crying.
Frannie hauled herself out of bed, struggling against gravity and tiredness borne of many interrupted nights, and stumbled into the nursery next door to check on her. By the dim glow from the streetlight, she could see Josie's blanket was scrunched down around her legs, and her toy penguin was missing. It was probably lurking in the shadows beneath the cot.
Frannie picked Josie up and kissed her cheek, rubbed her back soothingly. "Shhhhhhh! It's okay, baby girl. Mommy's here."
Josie hiccoughed.
"And where's poppa?" came a familiar voice from near the window. "That is, if she even has a poppa. Santa Maria, that I should live to see the day."
Frannie stiffened and turned slowly.
"You didn't live to see it, Ma, so give it a rest." Ma had passed away nearly seven months ago, but she still showed up every couple of weeks to give Frannie advice. She stood now, a shadowy spectre by the book shelves. Her lace shawl was crooked.
"To think that a daughter of mine would be so shameless, bringing a baby into the world without a father." Ma shook her head in disbelief.
"Listen, you want to dog someone, why don't you go down the hall and talk to your son, Ray?" Frannie hissed. It was infuriating, like the only reason Ma was still here was to scold her for being a loose woman. "You know your precious son's gay, right? You know he's sleeping in your bedroom with a man? God only knows the things they do."
Ma crossed herself, but said, "He's the head of the family, now. He doesn't listen to his mother. He can't even see me. But you, Francesca, you're my daughter. You're my baby."
"No," said Frannie firmly, "I have a baby. And I'm happy, okay? Tired but happy. If you want to yell at someone, pick someone else. Maria's moved to Wisconsin – go talk to her. I'm going to bed." She held Josie to her shoulder and marched out of the room.
In the doorway she paused and looked back. "Ma," she said, softly. "Take care, okay? Can't you find nocturnal rest, already?"
There was no reply. The room was empty. Josie gave a little baby yawn, and Frannie snuggled her and took her to bed. "I promise you one thing," she told her, stroking her soft downy face. "When I die, I'm going to leave you in peace. You'll be all on your own, little baby."
Josie snuffled. Her eyes were closed, and she was more or less asleep.
Frannie watched her until she couldn't keep her own eyes open a second longer. She let them fall shut, then murmured, "Not that I'm planning on dying any time soon, but if I do, don't worry. You won't be completely alone. I'm pretty sure your uncles will look out for you, just like they're looking out for me."
She lay back and let sleep claim her; it carried her off like driftwood on a rising tide.
END
Thanks and more thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Visitation Rights
Josie was crying.
Frannie hauled herself out of bed, struggling against gravity and tiredness borne of many interrupted nights, and stumbled into the nursery next door to check on her. By the dim glow from the streetlight, she could see Josie's blanket was scrunched down around her legs, and her toy penguin was missing. It was probably lurking in the shadows beneath the cot.
Frannie picked Josie up and kissed her cheek, rubbed her back soothingly. "Shhhhhhh! It's okay, baby girl. Mommy's here."
Josie hiccoughed.
"And where's poppa?" came a familiar voice from near the window. "That is, if she even has a poppa. Santa Maria, that I should live to see the day."
Frannie stiffened and turned slowly.
"You didn't live to see it, Ma, so give it a rest." Ma had passed away nearly seven months ago, but she still showed up every couple of weeks to give Frannie advice. She stood now, a shadowy spectre by the book shelves. Her lace shawl was crooked.
"To think that a daughter of mine would be so shameless, bringing a baby into the world without a father." Ma shook her head in disbelief.
"Listen, you want to dog someone, why don't you go down the hall and talk to your son, Ray?" Frannie hissed. It was infuriating, like the only reason Ma was still here was to scold her for being a loose woman. "You know your precious son's gay, right? You know he's sleeping in your bedroom with a man? God only knows the things they do."
Ma crossed herself, but said, "He's the head of the family, now. He doesn't listen to his mother. He can't even see me. But you, Francesca, you're my daughter. You're my baby."
"No," said Frannie firmly, "I have a baby. And I'm happy, okay? Tired but happy. If you want to yell at someone, pick someone else. Maria's moved to Wisconsin – go talk to her. I'm going to bed." She held Josie to her shoulder and marched out of the room.
In the doorway she paused and looked back. "Ma," she said, softly. "Take care, okay? Can't you find nocturnal rest, already?"
There was no reply. The room was empty. Josie gave a little baby yawn, and Frannie snuggled her and took her to bed. "I promise you one thing," she told her, stroking her soft downy face. "When I die, I'm going to leave you in peace. You'll be all on your own, little baby."
Josie snuffled. Her eyes were closed, and she was more or less asleep.
Frannie watched her until she couldn't keep her own eyes open a second longer. She let them fall shut, then murmured, "Not that I'm planning on dying any time soon, but if I do, don't worry. You won't be completely alone. I'm pretty sure your uncles will look out for you, just like they're looking out for me."
She lay back and let sleep claim her; it carried her off like driftwood on a rising tide.
END
no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 08:10 pm (UTC)