Chapter Text
Riza entered the house via the side door. She deposited her messenger bag on the bench seat in the mudroom, and tugged off her boots. Without a care for her decorations, she tossed her uniform into the small laundry piece by piece. She refused to start her vacation sorting out work related dirty clothes. They could be dealt with in the morning or another day entirely. That was the point of taking leave. Her hand reached out to grab a t-shirt hanging from the rod above the washer, and slipped it over her head. It belonged to her boyfriend, but she doubted he’d mind the pilfering. The last item to go was her bra. The hour was late, and she was ready to check out.
The kitchen was littered with stacks of invoices, dirty dishes, and the occasional dishrag. Those could also be appropriately cleaned in the morning. They were all signs of a lived-in house, and Riza smiled affectionately. Her own childhood had been so empty.
She barefooted through the front room towards the staircase turning off a few lamps as she went, and without really thinking about it, she avoided the second step; it still creaked after years of residence. No need to wake up any sleeping souls. When she reached the second floor landing only a single lamp remained. In its yellow glow she spotted the reasons for the cluttered house. Stretched out on the shabby couch they hid from polite company was the owner of the t-shirt. His legs were too long and one was hooked over the worn arm, the other hung awkwardly over the edge of the sofa. Sprawled across his chest was a snoring child, her hair ruffled with sleep, and a pacifier hung half out of her mouth.
A tired smile crawled across her face, and she simply watched the sleeping pair for a long moment. As quietly as possible, Riza crouched next to the ugly old couch, and brushed the hair from the man’s forehead. He stirred, and grinned up at her.
“Hey there, beautiful. You’re home.” He did his best to stretch his back without disturbing the seeping toddler. “I don’t think I can move.”
“I’ll take her to bed,” Riza carefully slid her daughter from Jean’s chest to her own. She squirmed, and a dent of irritation formed between small eyebrows. A chubby hand reached out blindly, and found purchase in a thick strand of Riza’s hair. She forcefully suckled her pacifier, and slipped back into unconsciousness.
Gently, Riza placed her daughter’s sleeping body into her crib, and disengaged her hair from a surprisingly tight grasp. She ran her finger over a dimpled cheek, and pressed her lips softly to the fluffy bunch of blonde hair. “Goodnight, angel,” she whispered before pulling the bedroom door closed.
The lamp on the landing had been switched off, and the sofa vacated. In their bedroom, she found him attempting to roll the tension from his neck. “Need a hand with that?”
His smile was warm. “It couldn’t be helped, you know. Ellie knows I’m a sucker for her tears already. She wouldn’t go to sleep in her own room.”
Riza guided him to the bed, and he flopped into it on his stomach. She straddled his waist, and probed the tense muscles in his shoulders. “I’m sure she gave you the doe eyes, and that’s all it took, right?”
He laughed, and even after years of being with him, the sound still made her heart feel lighter. “I swear there were tears. Big ones, Riza. She even used her words against me. Daddy no! There was nothing I could do!”
“Uh, huh. Sure. You’re setting a dangerous precedent for yourself.” She worked her way down his spine. “One I can’t help you with.”
“She won’t be little forever, and I don’t want to miss anything.”
Riza sighed, and sat back. “You’re so whipped. Owned by an eighteen month old.”
A muscled arm reached around, and circled her waist, dragging her down onto the mattress. Jean leaned over her, and grinned. “You’re hardly one to talk! I’ve seen the way you cave into cookies right after breakfast, and five stories instead of two.” His finger poked playfully at her side.
“First of all,” she managed over a stifled squeal. “First of all, that’s not true. I’ve never given her snacks before eleven, and reading to a toddler is necessary for cognitive development! I’m doing her a favor!”
“Yeah, yeah. Hey, is this my clean shirt?” Jean grabbed a handful of fabric. “I was going to wear this tomorrow.”
“I’m not sorry. You know things you leave hanging in the laundry are fair game.”
He snorted. “You don’t ever see me stealing your clothes.” Jean sighed dramatically, and slid his hand underneath the hem stopping at her stomach. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m about to take it off anyway, but I want no complaints from you when I start wearing the things you leave out hanging.”
“Good luck getting anything I own to fit your giant body.” Riza could not contain her laughter. “You’d look like a poorly kept man mowing the yard in my t-shirts.”
She let him pull the shirt over her head, and blew a strand of hair from her eye. “Why am I the kept one in this relationship?”
“Because you’re home more than I am. It’s only fair.”
He leaned down and kissed between her breasts. “I think you’re just jealous that I get to do my boring paperwork in my pajamas.”
“You’re right,” Riza laughed, and pushed on his shoulder. “I am exceedingly jealous that you get to do your boring paperwork in your pajamas. Do you think,” she paused, and looked away. “Do you think Ellie loves me less because I’m gone more?” This was something she battled every morning when she left her daughter, and Havoc at home to go to work at Eastern Headquarters. Often he took the girl with him to his store, but when business made that impossible, she stayed with a babysitter two blocks from their house. Ellie was never too far away from her father.
“Hey,” He turned her head to face him. “Stop that. Ellie doesn’t love you any more or less than she does me. She babbles about you all day; where you are, what you’re doing, if you brought crackers for lunch… you’ve got to stop torturing yourself.”
“It’s just that sometimes-“
“Knock it off, Riza. I’m serious.” Havoc’s eyes narrowed into blue slits. “Is this because of what my mother said to you?”
Riza flushed. “Maybe a little.”
He dropped his head onto her shoulder. “Why do you let her get to you? She’s an awful example!”
“Well she does have a point-“
“No! No she doesn’t!” Jean took a deep breath. “Of course she stayed home with us! She and my dad literally live above their store! I was sitting at the counter watching my sister ring up customers by the time I was three while my pregnant mom handled vendors! Do not compare what we have to that.”
“I only wish I could be home more. That’s all.”
“You take six weeks of leave a year, Riza, plus holidays. That’s plenty of down time you have with Ellie to negate all this ridiculous guilt. And please, for the love of god, ignore what my mom says regarding Ellie’s upbringing.” He wrapped his arms under, and around her. “Please?”
“I love you, you know that?”
“I do. Now can we get to the part where we have hot, sweaty sex and pass out? It’s been a very long day.”
She could feel him smiling against her shoulder. “I suppose that’s acceptable, but I expect the shirt to be returned to me. I have nothing else to sleep in seeing as no one did any laundry today.”
“It was intentional. I like it when all your sleep shirts are dirty.”
“You’d make a terrible housewife, Jean.” She smiled when he kicked off his boxer shorts, and yanked her panties down.
“Ah, but you’d have to make an honest man out of me before I could ever be your wife.”
“Touché,” Riza mumbled as he kissed her soundly.
Morning came with a loud cry from Ellie’s nursery. She had no problems sleeping through the night, but when the sun rose, so did the girl. Riza crawled from the empty bed, and greeted her daughter with a sleepy smile.
“Morning, angel, you hungry?” She set Ellie on her hip, and headed for the kitchen. Jean had stacked the dirty dishes from the day before in the sink on his way out the door. He’d nudged her awake at a brutal five o’clock to remind her he had a few things to handle at the store before taking the rest of the day off.
“Crunch!” Ellie babbled excitedly reaching for the bright yellow cereal box. Riza deposited her in a dining chair, and grabbed a plastic bowl from the cupboard. “Crunch, crunch, crunch, mommy!”
Riza joined her at the table, and sipped her tea as she watched her daughter ignore the spoon to eat each piece of cereal with her fingers. Ellie never wanted milk in her bowl, and seemed perfectly happy crunching on them dry.
Refusing to devote her time alone with Ellie to housework, she only spent twenty minutes tidying the kitchen, and adding a load of clothes to the washer. Jean wouldn’t be back until lunch, and her daughter was already tugging her to the backyard. The sandbox was a source of endless fascination.
Later that afternoon, Havoc strode through the door bearing bags of food, and an armful of papers. Riza relieved him of the bags so he could catch the child bowling at him from across the room.
“When are your parents getting in? I should probably make sure the guest room is serviceable.”
“Grandpa!” Ellie interjected, squirming free of her father to grab at the food containers.
“Probably not until tonight. We’ve got time later, and I’m starving.”
Riza only picked at her food, and let Jean convince Ellie that chicken bits were for eating, not playing. “What’s the matter, beautiful? You look like your mind is wandering.”
She tried to smile. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.” He winked at her from across the table.
“I am. Just a little anxious about the weekend.” She didn’t want to say so in front of Ellie, but Mrs. Havoc was a source of stress. The woman wasted no time judging the state of their house, and never let a visit go by without a not-so-subtle complaint that her son had produced a child out of wedlock. I don’t see what the holdup is, she’d pout loudly, I was married by the time I was twenty!
Jean, being her son, possessed the ability to shrug off her complaints without a single ruffled feather. Riza positively molted. Mrs. Havoc did not approve of her occupation, or really any occupation outside the home. Never mind that, as he’d pointed out the previous evening, his mother had indeed held a job when her children were young. He’d explained numerous times that she was still bitter he’d gone back to the city instead of pasturing himself, and marrying a hometown girl. Preferably one she’d had the opportunity to judge for years in advance. The fact that he’d struck out on his own, and shacked up with a soldier was mortifying for her circle of gossiping friends.
Ellie adored her grandfather, and he never failed to have a pocket full of sweets or trinkets for her perusal. He also praised his son at length for his successful business endeavors. Like Jean, he brushed off his wife’s complaints, and always had a kind word for the mother of his granddaughter. And it wasn’t that Mrs. Havoc ever said anything outright mean, but Riza couldn’t help but take the disapproval as a personal insult.
She didn’t need a ring, and slip of paper to know Jean loved her. He seemed perfectly content with their life together, and knew that if he did ever propose her answer would have been yes. After they’d first moved in together everything blurred into a single chunk of time; Riza’s night terrors flared at least three times a week, and she’d clung to him desperately at every occurrence. When that anxiety started to lessen, and cohabitation ironed out her wrinkles, Ellie had come along, and marriage just never came up.
“Ellie, why don’t you go get your crayons, and we’ll color at the table. I need to talk to mommy for a minute.”
The little girl, still clad in her pajamas, stumbled out of her chair, and ran off to collect her art supplies. Riza stood, and gathered the dishes. She hadn’t meant to make a big deal out of the visit or her anxiety.
“Hey,” Jean called to her from the table. “Hey, come sit with me.”
“I told you, I’m fine, Jean.”
He exhaled heavily, and instead of waiting for her to comply, stood directly behind her at the sink. His arms wound around her body, and his chin landed on her shoulder. “Have I told you how much I hate the word fine?”
“I mean it, though. I’m just not looking forward to three days of opinionated commentary.”
Jean removed the plates from her hands, and let them fall beneath the suds. He turned her to face him, and lightly kissed her frowning mouth. “I know my mother wears you out. She unfairly judges our life, it’s true. But her opinion doesn’t matter to me nearly as much as yours. Do you feel like we’re missing out on anything?”
His eyes searched her face, and Riza swallowed back a lump in her throat. “No,” she whispered. “But it bugs me that she thinks we are.”
“Aw, don’t cry, beautiful. I’ll shut her down if she bothers you that much. Okay?” His thumb brushed away the tear that escaped. “I’ll talk to her.”
Without meaning to, Riza dressed Ellie to impress her boyfriend’s parents. Her daughter wasn’t especially fond of dresses, but allowed the fawning, and ribbons in her hair. The Havocs arrived just after dinner hour, and Jean brought out a bottle of his father’s favorite bourbon. Mrs. Havoc was perfectly polite, and reveled in the attention from her granddaughter. Ellie’s giggles soon turned to yawns, and Riza excused herself to put the toddler to bed. The excitement had taken a toll, and she nodded off much quicker than usual.
Riza took a quiet seat at the top of the stairs when she overheard her name in a conversation below. Eavesdropping was incredibly rude, she knew, but the idea of dealing with Jean’s mother when she was on a roll was wholly unpalatable.
“Just let it go, ma! Riza, and I are happy the way things are!”
“I’m only saying that if you keep on in this way, people will talk! I’d hate to see little Ellie the subject of gossip.”
Riza clenched her fingers, and bit her tongue. The comment had been a low blow.
“Now, Delia, we-“ She recognized the soft voice of Jean’s father.
“Mother, it’s one thing to make backhanded comments about Riza, but you will not comment on my daughter’s social status. I’m sick to death of the way you analyze our life into bits of things you approve or don’t approve of. This is my family. My decisions. You come in here spouting your opinions, and it stresses Riza the hell out. She doesn’t need that bullshit. I hate knowing it’s my own mother that makes her feel self-conscious about choices we’ve made together. She’s had enough parental discord to last two lifetimes.”
Riza bit her lip. She hadn’t imagined Jean would lose his temper so quickly. “If you can’t behave yourself, then we’ll just come to you from now on. When we feel like it.”
The silence below was suffocating. Riza stood, and made her way to their bedroom. She didn’t feel comfortable walking in on such a conversation that, really, she shouldn’t have overheard at all. The water pipes in the house were noisy, and she knew her shower wouldn’t go unnoticed. Breathing in the steam, and feeling the hot spray on her shoulders calmed her frayed nerves.
“Can I join you?”
Riza jumped at the voice behind her, but smiled. “As long as you promise not to try and stuff yourself into my nightie afterwards.”
There was the laugh she loved. “I promise. This time.” He pulled her against his body, and panted an open mouthed kiss on her exposed neck.
“Jean, we can’t! Your parents-“
He groaned into her skin. “Mmm, I don’t care.”
She found she didn’t actually care either, and let him have his way. The water was edging on cold when she finally reached over to switch it off. Havoc wrapped her with a towel, and smiled. “Things’ll be better tomorrow. I talked to my mom.”
“I… know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to spy, I was actually headed downstairs, and heard the talking.”
“Well, it’s for the best, then. She’s promised to be less invasive, and to keep her opinions to herself. I don’t think she realized how awful she was being.”
“I didn’t hear everything, and I decided a shower would be preferable to any appearance by me.”
Jean frowned, and tugged her closer by her hips. “This is your house, too, Riza. You shouldn’t ever feel awkward.”
She wrapped her arms around his bare chest, and smiled. “I don’t. I just needed a break. Thank you for defending me.”
“I defended our family, beautiful. That’s what we are. It’s what we have together.” His hand toyed with the edge of her towel. “You should probably put on that nightie before I pull this off.”
Riza laughed, and kissed his chest. “You’re terrible. Come to bed, soon. I know you’re itching for a secret smoke by the window.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jean winked at her, and ran a hand through his wet hair.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” Riza left him in the bathroom, and her heart swelled with so many things she couldn’t possibly name them all. They swirled around her twinkling like fireflies. She didn’t need anything else if she could have this simplicity for the rest of her life.