October 2, 2012 by Lyn
Thirty-four years after Year 5 of the Addergoole School
Addergoole East, Pennsylvania
“It’ll be fine, Dom. It’s a good school, and I know Kai – Dean Storm. She’s a good Administrator.”
“I know, Dadimom. It’s just… she’s my baby.”
Dadimom had been Dominique’s nickname for Jamian since Dom had first learned to talk; its twin, Carey, liked to call Jamian Mom One, and Tya, when it showed up, Mom Two point oh. In turn, Dom’s oldest had settled on the nickname Parenthood. Then again, Dom’s kids didn’t have two hermaphrodites for parents.
Jamian hugged his child tightly. “I know. I’ve done this rodeo a few times myself, honey.”
“Nobody does rodeos anymore.”
“But old folks still talk about them. Look, there’s a good ice cream shop down in town that still knows how do to it right. Let’s go have some, and I can tell you how well your daughter is going to do, and how Addergoole East isn’t set up like Addergoole West.”
“But what if she doesn’t learn enough here? West was… sometimes it was hell, but we learned, we really learned how to survive.”
“Don’t worry, kiddo.” It didn’t see like it had been that long since he’d be chewing over similar worries with Dom and Carey, but the calendar told him it had been seventeen years. Had he lost a few? Before Martina, there had been a few long, dark years. “She’ll do fine. She’ll do her mum and grandfather proud.”
That got a little smirk out of her, at least; he must be doing something right. “Thanks for coming with me. I know she’ll be fine, it’s just…”
“It’s just, it’s one thing to know it, it’s another thing to act on it.” The voice from the next table finished Dominique’s sentence so cleanly, they both looked up to see if they were being made fun of.
The people at the next table seemed oblivious to their attention, though.
“I’d say it gets easier, but it doesn’t. Relax, Beebee, it’ll be fine.” Jamian knew that voice, although it had both roughened and mellowed through the decades. The owner of the voice had allowed herself to look a bit older, too, and she was showing off three scars, one of which had nearly destroyed her eye. “Are you heading back out, then?”
“Yeah. Willow’s got a target for us, something she’s been working on with her in-laws. You could come with us, Mom.”
Jamian knew the look on the mother’s face; he’d seen it on his own face. “Nah, kiddo, you know that doesn’t work out that well. You and your sister get along fine without me.”
Jamian echoed the woman’s question to his own child. “Heading out again? Back to the enclave?”
“I think so. You know, Dadimom…”
“You have a position, honey. I’ll always be nearby to help, but I’d just be underfoot, there.”
The other woman looked up, caught his eye, hearing her own thoughts echoed so nearby. Jamian shamelessly tasted her emotions, and found nothing but amused startlement .
“Jamian, was it?” Her voice brought their children’s attention to them, but that was all right. With the Thorne Girls, amusement could turn to violence pretty quickly.
“It’s Cay these days, usually. Good to see you still kicking.”
It looked like it wasn’t going to turn too violent. Jamian allowed a smile to sneak out. “Likewise. Been a long time.” He tilted his head. “My child, Dominique. Grandaughter’s going to Addergoole East.”
“So’s mine.” She smiled, one of those expressions that was more tooth than humor. “The Girl Scout has always impressed me.”
“Yeah, she’s always been pretty impressive.” Jamian looked between their children, and then back at Acacia. “Hey, what d’you say, after our kids hare off, us retiree grandmoms get together and shoot the shit?”
He watched the smile go from teeth to actual pleasure, the emotions washing surprise/happiness/surprise over the warrior woman. “You know, I’d like that. You’ve got a date.”
This outtake was written in response to giom’s donation and request for “how Cay and Jamian came to be living together.”
For every $5US donated, I will write 300 words on the character or situation of your choice. In addition, every donation will bring you to a small snippet of story – a new snippet every Wednesday!