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rainbowfic2017-02-27 06:43 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2017-02-27 06:43 pm
Argent #25, Valentine's Day Pink #12, Wedding Dress White #7
Name: kay_brooke
Story: Unusual Florida
Colors: Argent #25 (clear conscience), Valentine's Day Pink #12 (ring), Wedding Dress White #7 (exchanging rings)
Styles/Supplies: Seed Beads
Word Count: 1,583
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Vicki's birthday.
Note: Victoria Wells is Robert Holden's ex-wife, who left him after he got crazy obsessive about people with psychic powers. I have also made a change in canon, so this time period isn't actually a Frame anymore. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Monday, February 27th, 2017
Her family was over for her birthday. Eighty-seven wasn’t much of a milestone in terms of pure numbers, but Vicki supposed that in terms of years, every birthday at this point in her life was a milestone. Another February gone; she might yet live to see another spring, etc. Not that she was in ill health, aside from the standard passel of age-related maladies: arthritic fingers, mysterious aches and pains, eyesight that seemed to worsen by the day. But she had seen enough of her friends, and indeed her own husband, fade away that she knew this was a very temporary state of affairs. At her age, the end could very well come suddenly and with no warning. So she appreciated that her family still made the effort.
She hadn’t realized that two of her grandchildren, Marley and Janet, had gotten into the attic until they came barreling into the kitchen where Vicki and her son Harry--stepson, actually, she being his father’s second wife, but the first wife was deceased and Harry and his brother and sister had been young enough back then to consider her a mother figure after the marriage--were discussing something inane and waiting for the cake to be ready.
“We found treasure!” Marley was the older of the two, Harry’s only child. Her cousin Janet was the youngest of four and belonged to Harry’s brother Steven. The nine-year-old proudly held up a small silver object that flashed and sparkled beneath the dining room lights. Vicki’s heart seized in her chest--a possibly serious condition at her age, but it was only a momentary shock, not something more concerning--as she recognized the ring.
Harry frowned. “Where did you get that?” he said. “Were you in your grandmother’s room?” He referred to her as that to the children, which she appreciated. Harry was the oldest of her stepchildren, and the only one to remember his birth mother. He had never quite gotten into the habit of called her “mother,” but he never qualified her status around the kids.
“No!” cried Janet, who was seven and at an age where everything that came out of her mouth was a shriek. “We were in the attic!” She completely ignored Marley’s attempts to shush her, as if the older girl had just realized they had voluntarily gotten themselves in trouble.
Harry frowned. “What have I told you about snooping?”
Marley’s head drooped. Janet went on without a care, because after all, Uncle Harry was unlikely to punish her. “It was in this big wooden box with a bunch of other jewelry, but this was the prettiest!” She tried to grab it from Marley’s hand, but Marley, realizing it was best to own up to their wrongdoing, sheepishly deposited the ring on the table in front of Vicki.
“What do you say?” Harry asked.
“Sorry, Grandma,” Marley muttered.
Janet looked around at all of them before saying, “But it’s pretty!” As if that justified anything.
Vicki picked up the ring with slightly trembling fingers that she told herself was just the arthritis acting up, and turned it so that the diamond caught the light again. How she had so enjoyed doing that when she was just a silly, pretty secretary cultivating envious glances from her coworkers at Laskey and Sons. Such a long time ago. Another lifetime, even. She closed her fist over the ring, asking herself once again why she had kept it. Was it the remnants of that vain girl she had once been that compelled her to stow it away with other things best left forgotten? She didn’t even know what other jewelry the girls were talking about, it had been so long since she’d stashed that chest up in the attic. But she did remember the ring.
“It is pretty,” she said, smiling at both Marley and Janet to let them know all was forgiven.
“Where’d you get it?” Marley asked cautiously. She glanced sideways at her father, but Harry just shook his head and sighed. Despite himself, he looked curious.
Vicki wondered if she should tell them the truth. She didn’t know if they realized she wasn’t their fathers’ birth mother, or if they would care. Then again, she was eighty-seven. What did it matter anymore? “That’s my engagement ring,” she told her granddaughters. “My first husband gave it to me.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably, but Marley and Janet’s eyes were big as saucers, so she continued. “He said it was his mother’s, passed down from her mother, but I think he just bought it new for me.” She’d known Robert’s mother better than his father, who had passed away not long after she and Robert married, but neither one of them had struck her as the type to have heirloom jewelry, at least none that hadn’t been pawned long ago. “Hillbilly” used to be the term. She didn’t know what it was now.
Heirloom or not, how proud of that ring she had been! Almost more for the envious looks than the actual engagement. No matter where it came from, it was big, it was flashy, and it signaled to the other secretaries that she was on her way up, that she was one of the lucky ones who had been noticed by one of the men up top, the ones with college degrees and big cars and lots of money. Of course, Robert had turned out to be not quite what she was expecting, which was why the divorce had happened.
“You never talk about him,” said Harry quietly.
“He’s gone,” she said. “Twenty years this year.” And it had been even longer since she had spoken to him. She’d only known he died because when he did, it turned out that she was still in his will, and suddenly the owner of that wretched resort he’d poured his money, life, and eventually sanity into. She’d sold it, of course, and for the first offer she got, which was probably bad business sense, but she wasn’t interested in the money. She had just wanted it off her hands, that last reminder of her previous life. “It was a marriage that didn’t work out. That’s all there is to it.”
Harry didn’t look like he believed her.
“Really,” she insisted. “No scandals, no abuse, nothing like that. Irreconcilable differences, that’s the term. We wanted different things in life.” That was mostly the truth. She didn’t want to think that Colin’s death was the reason for it all. They could have gotten through it, her and Robert, maybe even had another child someday, if it wasn’t for his obsessions. Robert had left her long before the divorce papers were a reality, left her for lunatic dreams and foolish impossibilities. The strangers he had tried to stalk. There had been some trouble, she had heard, with the authorities right before his death. She hadn’t ever cared to get all the details, but she had not been surprised. It had just been research when she was still there, just books and paper and notes. But with her gone surely he had escalated.
It made her shudder to think about now. What he might have done to her, in his madness, if she had stayed.
“Put it away, dear,” she said, handing the ring back to Marley.
“Can I keep it?” Marley asked slyly.
Janet opened her mouth to object, but she was interrupted by Harry. “Absolutely not,” he said. “What does a girl your age need with an engagement ring?”
Janet made a grab for it, perhaps thinking she now had first dibs.
“Just put it back,” Vicki insisted. “It’s bad luck and I should have sold it years ago.”
Janet pouted. Marley said, “I’ll sell it for you, Grandma.”
“No,” said Harry.
“Put it back,” Vicki said again. “Leave it in the attic. When I’m dead and gone you all can fight over it then.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Harry sternly.
“Can I have it when I grow up and get engaged?” Janet asked.
“That’s not how it works,” Marley said. “Your husband gives you a ring he buys.”
Janet mulled this over for several seconds. “But I like this ring better.”
“Tell you what,” said Vicki. “If you get engaged and I’m still alive, we’ll talk about it.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Harry.
“Shush,” Vicki told him. “Now please put it back in the chest in the attic.”
“Okay,” said Marley reluctantly.
“She means now,” said her father. “And stay out of other people’s things!”
The two girls trudged away, and Vicki turned to face Harry. “They were just curious. I have more than a few secrets up in that attic.”
“They’re both old enough to know better.” Harry crossed his arms and looked toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that cake ready yet?”
Vicki had thought before about telling her stepchildren more about her past, but they had never seemed interested. And here was Harry deliberately avoiding the subject. That was fine. What could she say? Her first family was gone, decades dead. She barely remembered that life. Who did it serve to dredge all that up now? Her real family was here with her in the present, and she really didn’t know how much time she had left to spend with them. No more digging through the past. She was here with them, and that was all that mattered.
“Surely it must be,” she said to Harry. “Why don’t you go check on it?”
kay_brookeStory: Unusual Florida
Colors: Argent #25 (clear conscience), Valentine's Day Pink #12 (ring), Wedding Dress White #7 (exchanging rings)
Styles/Supplies: Seed Beads
Word Count: 1,583
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Vicki's birthday.
Note: Victoria Wells is Robert Holden's ex-wife, who left him after he got crazy obsessive about people with psychic powers. I have also made a change in canon, so this time period isn't actually a Frame anymore. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Monday, February 27th, 2017
Her family was over for her birthday. Eighty-seven wasn’t much of a milestone in terms of pure numbers, but Vicki supposed that in terms of years, every birthday at this point in her life was a milestone. Another February gone; she might yet live to see another spring, etc. Not that she was in ill health, aside from the standard passel of age-related maladies: arthritic fingers, mysterious aches and pains, eyesight that seemed to worsen by the day. But she had seen enough of her friends, and indeed her own husband, fade away that she knew this was a very temporary state of affairs. At her age, the end could very well come suddenly and with no warning. So she appreciated that her family still made the effort.
She hadn’t realized that two of her grandchildren, Marley and Janet, had gotten into the attic until they came barreling into the kitchen where Vicki and her son Harry--stepson, actually, she being his father’s second wife, but the first wife was deceased and Harry and his brother and sister had been young enough back then to consider her a mother figure after the marriage--were discussing something inane and waiting for the cake to be ready.
“We found treasure!” Marley was the older of the two, Harry’s only child. Her cousin Janet was the youngest of four and belonged to Harry’s brother Steven. The nine-year-old proudly held up a small silver object that flashed and sparkled beneath the dining room lights. Vicki’s heart seized in her chest--a possibly serious condition at her age, but it was only a momentary shock, not something more concerning--as she recognized the ring.
Harry frowned. “Where did you get that?” he said. “Were you in your grandmother’s room?” He referred to her as that to the children, which she appreciated. Harry was the oldest of her stepchildren, and the only one to remember his birth mother. He had never quite gotten into the habit of called her “mother,” but he never qualified her status around the kids.
“No!” cried Janet, who was seven and at an age where everything that came out of her mouth was a shriek. “We were in the attic!” She completely ignored Marley’s attempts to shush her, as if the older girl had just realized they had voluntarily gotten themselves in trouble.
Harry frowned. “What have I told you about snooping?”
Marley’s head drooped. Janet went on without a care, because after all, Uncle Harry was unlikely to punish her. “It was in this big wooden box with a bunch of other jewelry, but this was the prettiest!” She tried to grab it from Marley’s hand, but Marley, realizing it was best to own up to their wrongdoing, sheepishly deposited the ring on the table in front of Vicki.
“What do you say?” Harry asked.
“Sorry, Grandma,” Marley muttered.
Janet looked around at all of them before saying, “But it’s pretty!” As if that justified anything.
Vicki picked up the ring with slightly trembling fingers that she told herself was just the arthritis acting up, and turned it so that the diamond caught the light again. How she had so enjoyed doing that when she was just a silly, pretty secretary cultivating envious glances from her coworkers at Laskey and Sons. Such a long time ago. Another lifetime, even. She closed her fist over the ring, asking herself once again why she had kept it. Was it the remnants of that vain girl she had once been that compelled her to stow it away with other things best left forgotten? She didn’t even know what other jewelry the girls were talking about, it had been so long since she’d stashed that chest up in the attic. But she did remember the ring.
“It is pretty,” she said, smiling at both Marley and Janet to let them know all was forgiven.
“Where’d you get it?” Marley asked cautiously. She glanced sideways at her father, but Harry just shook his head and sighed. Despite himself, he looked curious.
Vicki wondered if she should tell them the truth. She didn’t know if they realized she wasn’t their fathers’ birth mother, or if they would care. Then again, she was eighty-seven. What did it matter anymore? “That’s my engagement ring,” she told her granddaughters. “My first husband gave it to me.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably, but Marley and Janet’s eyes were big as saucers, so she continued. “He said it was his mother’s, passed down from her mother, but I think he just bought it new for me.” She’d known Robert’s mother better than his father, who had passed away not long after she and Robert married, but neither one of them had struck her as the type to have heirloom jewelry, at least none that hadn’t been pawned long ago. “Hillbilly” used to be the term. She didn’t know what it was now.
Heirloom or not, how proud of that ring she had been! Almost more for the envious looks than the actual engagement. No matter where it came from, it was big, it was flashy, and it signaled to the other secretaries that she was on her way up, that she was one of the lucky ones who had been noticed by one of the men up top, the ones with college degrees and big cars and lots of money. Of course, Robert had turned out to be not quite what she was expecting, which was why the divorce had happened.
“You never talk about him,” said Harry quietly.
“He’s gone,” she said. “Twenty years this year.” And it had been even longer since she had spoken to him. She’d only known he died because when he did, it turned out that she was still in his will, and suddenly the owner of that wretched resort he’d poured his money, life, and eventually sanity into. She’d sold it, of course, and for the first offer she got, which was probably bad business sense, but she wasn’t interested in the money. She had just wanted it off her hands, that last reminder of her previous life. “It was a marriage that didn’t work out. That’s all there is to it.”
Harry didn’t look like he believed her.
“Really,” she insisted. “No scandals, no abuse, nothing like that. Irreconcilable differences, that’s the term. We wanted different things in life.” That was mostly the truth. She didn’t want to think that Colin’s death was the reason for it all. They could have gotten through it, her and Robert, maybe even had another child someday, if it wasn’t for his obsessions. Robert had left her long before the divorce papers were a reality, left her for lunatic dreams and foolish impossibilities. The strangers he had tried to stalk. There had been some trouble, she had heard, with the authorities right before his death. She hadn’t ever cared to get all the details, but she had not been surprised. It had just been research when she was still there, just books and paper and notes. But with her gone surely he had escalated.
It made her shudder to think about now. What he might have done to her, in his madness, if she had stayed.
“Put it away, dear,” she said, handing the ring back to Marley.
“Can I keep it?” Marley asked slyly.
Janet opened her mouth to object, but she was interrupted by Harry. “Absolutely not,” he said. “What does a girl your age need with an engagement ring?”
Janet made a grab for it, perhaps thinking she now had first dibs.
“Just put it back,” Vicki insisted. “It’s bad luck and I should have sold it years ago.”
Janet pouted. Marley said, “I’ll sell it for you, Grandma.”
“No,” said Harry.
“Put it back,” Vicki said again. “Leave it in the attic. When I’m dead and gone you all can fight over it then.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Harry sternly.
“Can I have it when I grow up and get engaged?” Janet asked.
“That’s not how it works,” Marley said. “Your husband gives you a ring he buys.”
Janet mulled this over for several seconds. “But I like this ring better.”
“Tell you what,” said Vicki. “If you get engaged and I’m still alive, we’ll talk about it.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Harry.
“Shush,” Vicki told him. “Now please put it back in the chest in the attic.”
“Okay,” said Marley reluctantly.
“She means now,” said her father. “And stay out of other people’s things!”
The two girls trudged away, and Vicki turned to face Harry. “They were just curious. I have more than a few secrets up in that attic.”
“They’re both old enough to know better.” Harry crossed his arms and looked toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that cake ready yet?”
Vicki had thought before about telling her stepchildren more about her past, but they had never seemed interested. And here was Harry deliberately avoiding the subject. That was fine. What could she say? Her first family was gone, decades dead. She barely remembered that life. Who did it serve to dredge all that up now? Her real family was here with her in the present, and she really didn’t know how much time she had left to spend with them. No more digging through the past. She was here with them, and that was all that mattered.
“Surely it must be,” she said to Harry. “Why don’t you go check on it?”
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Thanks for reading!
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