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Sheltered [12/03/2023] CH46+47 [Important Subscribestar Update]


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On 4/1/2019 at 10:15 PM, foofybabykitten said:

Yay for the update! I believed in the continuation and checked everyday! I think it's needless to say but, I can't wait for more Emily & Joyce; I'm incredibly curious as to how the parent's visit is going to go so I'll continue to stalk this thread until the next chapter, don't keep poor little ol' me waiting too long, I might explode with anticipation. ?

Whoops, you might not like where the next chapter goes then... It's coming real soon, though! I felt one more chapter was necessary before we reached that point. You'll see what I mean.

On 4/1/2019 at 11:03 PM, Sarah Penguin said:

:)

Thanks!

On 4/2/2019 at 10:31 AM, Little_Mouse said:

Good stuff are worth waiting for ??

Glad to hear the kind words. Thanks for commenting!

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On 4/2/2019 at 9:25 PM, Cya said:

Beautiful bonding, well written and a solid update. Totally worth the wait!

Awesome! It's constantly a back-and-forth issue for me, making sure I don't lean too heavily on the conservative side, as well as progress things too fast. Hopefully what I'm doing is believable enough. Thanks for commenting!

 
 
1
On 4/3/2019 at 9:39 PM, YourFNF said:

I ran out of likes but just....

@Mee

? Don't worry about it. The kind words and vivid reactions are plenty! Thanks!

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17 - A Night of Celebration

While the tv continued to play, Emily busied herself with inspecting just how squishy Pip was. Like a diligent scientist, she’d poke and prod him all over, curious to see just how long it’d take for the dents she’d cause to slowly regenerate and erase any trace of her own impact.

Despite being nearly completely naked, Joyce always knew how to keep the apartment regulated. Apart from the occasional shift which would cause her diaper to crinkle, causing her emotions to get a little warmer than she’d have liked, she was overall content. How couldn’t she be? Everything today was about her, and even if it weren’t her birthday, she’d still feel like the center of Joyce’s universe. At times, yes, it could be a little overwhelming, but compared to her initial feelings, when she first walked through her door--correction, when she first woke up in her guest bed, she now had an odd sense of normalcy…

She was in a bubble, as best as she could describe it. Her own little oasis she was just beginning to think of as her own. By large and far, it all belonged to Joyce, but so did Emily, too… Even if it wasn’t the most adult and responsible thing to do, nor was her current behavior, someone watching over her had such a positive ring to it. 

Then, for no explicit reason whatsoever, what’d been hanging over their heads the entire day suddenly sat atop her shoulder; an immovable weight which pinned her worries and nerves deep into her flesh, and near-snapping her spine. Such a pointless and relatively insignificant fear had grown and festered into an insurmountable monster that glared its teeth at the girl. As inside Emily’s head as Joyce’s reassurances and she herself was, a person can never be fully convinced unless it’s by their own conviction.

The irrationalities always knew just when the big and scary Joyce was scarce, because it was then Emily could feel them breathing down her neck, staring her down like lasers on an ice cube on a hot Summer’s day. A poor, and cheesy analogy, she knew, but time after time had proven she wasn’t exactly the best thinker…

The first thing they’d think of her was what a freeloader she was. How some stranger could leech off of their hardworking daughter, take advantage of her kindness, indirectly spend her money, be spoiled rotten, eat her food, take up her bedspace, waste gas, take up bath water, breathe the same air as--

The room started to feel a bit hotter than she would have liked, and slipped Pip a little bit forward just to give her face something to bury itself into. Something to cool down her overheated gears. Her feet strained into the cushy, oversized cushions of the couch as she made a small, apprehensive whimper. Pointless worrying was exactly how it was called: pointless. Even still, it didn’t stop her from feeling that way. Maybe from the right perspective their relationship was understandable, but how could you explain this sort of dynamic to rational, everyday people? Something was bound to slip, or be misinterpreted as something that’d sour their image. Her parents had no real control over what Joyce or Emily did, but they could certainly make them feel sore about it.

And the diapers. Oh, the diapers. The nursery, toys, bottles, pacifiers, bibs; all of it. As far as Emily saw it, they were in a war zone right now, and they were supposed to make it look like paradise again in less than 24 hours. She knew the nursery door was lockable, but to even consider the thought at being revealed nearly made Emily want to take off her diaper right then. All that’d protect them from certain demise was a visual obstruction and a block of wood just a few inches thick. Her cushy underwear was starting to feel less than ideal.

That’d disappoint Joyce, though… And as much as she hated the idea, she tried to ignore her constant, inner nagging about how to “better herself.” On the grand scheme, Emily’d like to think that she’d never been steered wrong by Joyce before, even if there had been certainly trying times. She truly was an emotional pillar for the girl. Before, she may have considered the gesture fickle, and something she couldn’t wholly lean on, but after how she’d been emotionally distraught again and again, and made whole once more by such an unyielding, powerful force, Emily might as well have thrown herself at the safety net Joyce was.

Emily didn’t think the feeling of guilt would ever leave her, or would at least take an extremely long time to. The feeling that she could never contribute as an equal. Case and point being her naked self snuggling with her personal stuffed toy on another person’s couch. Somehow in Joyce’s world though, this equated to probably the thousands of dollars she’d already spent on her. And to top it off, Emily thanked her in wet and messy diapers? A harsh stretch, she knew, but it wasn’t framed as a belittlement of Joyce’s desires, rather a mocking of Emily’s personal shortcomings. Joyce had everything she could ever need, with the money and power to satisfy any other trivial gap. All Emily brought to the table was herself, and even at that she need not forget how the only she table she came near was the one meant for changing diapers, as well as needing to be carried to it.

The worst of it all was how Emily enjoyed it. Certain parts, at least, as she desperately hoped Joyce cleaned her bottom well... But the fact remained that she derived pleasure from everything else. She didn’t feel like she was allowed to. She hadn’t earned it. How was it fair that she not only got to feed off of what Joyce did for her, but what she also did for Joyce? She was eating three-quarters of a fifty-fifty deal. But of course, that’s what Joyce wanted: Emily to be her happy baby. But the give and take were so seemingly lopsided, it still felt like she was shortchanging the woman.

This is about the time Joyce would come to cheer me up… Passively, she thought, then briefly became wide-eyed over such a thought escaping her. How much of a dependent had she become? She wanted to feel like a big girl--an adult, more than anything right now. Stumbling over the passive effect Joyce’s matronly vibe has had on her forced an annoyed smirk. Unashamedly, and not even stopping to question it, she felt herself wanting to be intimate with Joyce, just not in this way. It was all just so...confusing. As if she were trying to shake the verbal ideas outside her head and into the physical plane, she let out a deep, annoyed sigh.

Her hands grew restless, as they fondled Pip’s face and pressed into the cushions. Flustered all over, she nearly jumped when a cool, burst of air hit her neck.

A small ‘eep’ of surprise escaped her when she jumped, and despite being all crinkles, turned her head poutily back to the culprit, the one she’d just been thinking so fondly of. Clearly this’d dock them a few brownie points... 

Joyce, known far too well for her mischief merely giggled at the sight, and kneeled by the couch, casually working her hands into Emily’s back muscles and shoulders.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, y-” she was about to say, until an involuntary gasp erupted from a particularly tense spot. A knot in her muscles had just been untied, and the physical fatigue she never knew she had, suspended by a simple cord had been released in one simple stroke. She resigned herself to playfully angry murmurs after that.

“I just finished making arrangements for my mom and dad,” Joyce explained whilst she stroked Emily’s lower back, with the pinky of her splayed hand just teasing the elastic waistband of her diaper. Emily looked onwards, focusing herself on the sweet sensations exploding from inside her body. Who knew a basic massage could be so euphoric?

“And what time are they coming again?”

“Noon, I think she said.” Joyce then looked a bit more thoughtfully at Emily. “Are you gonna be okay with this?”

“Of course,” and even if she wasn’t, the thought was unthinkable to be a fresh set of eyes in Joyce’s life, and already create a wedge between she and her parents. “I’m just...” she always dreaded repeating herself, because that just meant Joyce hadn’t done a good job of solving these problems in the first place. “I’m nervous...” From the cheeks down she was absorbed by Pip’s figure.

“I’ll be there with you every step of the way, okay? You’re my big, strong girl, and you’re also my significant other,” Joyce then laid part of herself on Emily. “You’re special to me, and I want you to be okay around my family.” Maybe it wasn’t so much of even that. Joyce simply saw it as another sign of validation that what they had was genuine. By introducing her parents, it deepened the connection they had; intertwined Emily’s life with hers.

“We’ll get you all prim and proper tomorrow,” Joyce gleefully cooed. “They’ll see what a pretty princess you are~!”

Emily knew it was probably teasing, but further emotion was channeled into her back, this time being an uncomfortable chill.

“Joyce!” Emily whined, finally looking back.

“I know, I know. I’m just kidding,” her upbeat tone seemed to have reeled itself in, as she assumed her complacent self. “You’ll be your big girl self tomorrow.”

It wasn’t quite like how Emily would have liked to put it, but it was in the right direction, at least. She tried to find the state of comfort she was in before Joyce’s teasing, but she really didn’t know what to do with herself right now.

“Are we gonna start cleaning up soon?”

I’ll work at my own pace, sweetie,” Joyce both answered and simultaneously corrected Emily’s question and self-inclusion.

Just the same for Emily, it both stirred positive and negative emotions within her. How Joyce could shoulder so much was completely and totally beyond her, but she never wanted to add to Joyce’s workload if she could help it. Then again, she’d already done that so much already, was she even allowed to feel bad about it anymore?

“Trust me,” came the two-word command that Emily never seemed to not follow, “they won’t notice a thing.”

“And if they do?” Such a worrywart, Emily was.

“They won’t.”

“But still…!”

“Then if that happens, which it won’t, but if the impossible does happen,” finally inching forward to come eye to eye with Emily, “we’ll deal with it then.”

It was a less than fantastic response, and even if it were backed by Joyce’s confidence, the response to Emily felt painfully empty. That’s what someone would say if they weren’t planning for the worst. That always meant the worst was going to happen. The House always wins, and fate always knows how to screw a person over in the end. It probably wasn’t true, or so Emily would like to think, but she couldn’t help but feel that superstition would do them in by the end of this visit.

“But let’s forget about the silly stuff,” Joyce ushered, casually dismissing a very not silly and in fact very serious thing. “Did you feel okay about what just happened?” Once and in a long while, just like this time, Joyce looked dreadfully serious, ensuring no misinterpretation of joking could emerge.

Emily knew exactly what she was referring to. She could still feel the smell etched into her nostrils… Poking at recent wounds didn’t feel great at all, but she sorrowfully responded.

“Truthfully...not great,” Emily gave a small frown. “It’s hard, and...it stinks...” both figuratively and literally. It was taking a lot just not to cry from it right now. “Is it like that everytime?” She stared at Joyce, fearing for the worst.

“No, honey, no, it gets easier, I promise,” Joyce soothed. To be honest, she was a little surprised and glad to see Emily take to this so well. Really, she wasn’t, but compared to Joyce’s expectations of outright refusal, this went leaps and bounds beyond that. And now she had Emily’s precious trust and encouragement to move forward with. If she needed to take certain, reasonable steps, that was now expected of her. She’d do anything to ease Emily’s pain.

“Is there anything we can do to stop the smell?” Emily’s nostrils already twitched in unfortunate memory, given that she was the one who had the thing around her hips.

“Maybe, but I can’t make any promises,” Joyce glumly replied. She didn’t want to say something like ‘you get used to it,’ because even if she might, that wasn’t how she wanted to solve the problem. The diapers themselves already worked wonders on the smell factor, but maybe a little more powder in the future couldn’t hurt as well… And she hated to sound selfish in even her own thoughts, but a foul smell was also a helpful indicator for when a change was in order too…

Then, in a stroke of brilliance, a wonderful idea overcame Joyce.

“Oh! I think I know of a way to help.”

Curiously, Emily looked over.

“But it involves when you use the toilet as a grown-up, okay?”

“I’m not wearing diapers for when I need to use the bathroom.” ...Not as an adult, at least…

“No, no, I don’t mean that,” Joyce calmed, though she still acknowledged it as a perfectly acceptable avenue. “I was getting at bringing Pip with you to the bathroom.”

“P...Pip?” She looked down on the toy, half-expecting his inanimate eyes to stare back up to her in disbelief as well. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“There’s nothing to it,” Joyce simply explained. “When you go and use the bathroom,” she helped Emily stand on her knees on the couch, then firmly secured the mochi ball in her arms. “Give him a niice, biig squeeze, okay?” As if to demonstrate, she helped her arms squish the little guy firmly to her stomach.

“But I don’t get how that...”

“You’ll see later on. Don’t think about it too much. Just start doing that for me, okay?”

Awkwardly, Emily agreed, though she still didn’t get how a stuffed toy played into all of this. She stared at Pip questioningly. What had she done to him? Rather, how much did she pay to buy him off? She side-eyed the seemingly innocent friend. Innocent for now...

“Apart from that,” Joyce briefly spoke, taking the remote from the table, then killed the noise from the tv. “We went way past your tv limit.” She stroked the top of Emily’s head. “Your brain is far too sweet to go rotten from stuff like this!” Her tickles inevitably caused Emily to giggle.

“Then what else am I supposed to do?” amidst her giggles, Emily somehow managed to cry in a writhing, wonderful frustration.

“Well, seeing as you’re all tuckered out from your toys, maybe you’ll help me make dinner? Huh? Sound good to you?” Chuckling, letting the excitement rise and fall in her own voice, she didn’t stop her tickles until Emily pleaded yes and yes, begging for her to stop. The larger woman’s strength came into play, as she held Emily firm despite wriggling so strongly, it just proved that Joyce was stronger.

She stood Emily on the ground, who was still wiping away her tears. Tears that were induced for all the right reasons. Then, Pip, who was being used to give her some sense of modesty, was taken from her then set on the couch.

“No pouting,” Joyce said, as if it were a reminder, and every inch of Emily’s body apart from her nether regions were on display. “Mommy needs a special helper, and we can’t have Pip getting dirty.” It was a silly excuse for telling Emily to forget her modesty at the door, but it helped her move along with things.

Watching Joyce in her jeans and sweater was making Emily awfully reminiscent of her own clothes, even if they were just a onesie and a dress… She wasn’t supposed to feel bad about this though. She was supposed to be okay with it. She was supposed to accept the flow of everything. At times it was hard, and others, simply conflicting over how she could go along with it so easily. Was she supposed to resist? She tried not to give it much thought during their walk down the hall. Once in the kitchen, Joyce had Emily stand over by the counter.

“Eyes closed,” Joyce instructed.

Then, Emily smirked, challenging, “Oh? And if I don’t?”

Then, Joyce with a smile responded in an almost deathly serious voice, “Then that’ll be a timeout in the highchair.”

Emily was already holding back a giggle, one that would be sounded as soon as she heard the ridiculous, or funny response. But when it came out and she fully processed the words, nervousness affected her laugh more than anything else.

“Y...you’re kidding, right?”

“Do you want to find out?” Joyce looked back to Emily as if a mama tiger were expecting her cub to get feisty. Then when the fabricated tension finally lingered for a few moments too long, Joyce pulled her in for a hug. “Silly, of course I wouldn’t punish you,” she then slipped an apron over Emily’s neck, then said, “well, only if you do something really naughty. But, you’re my good girl, so I know that won’t happen.” She walked behind Emily to tie the apron, and while the girl gulped, and tried to focus on avoiding punishment, the apron felt fit and snug around her waist. She felt her hair being bunched into the loose bun, and she twiddled her thumbs while she waited for prep to finish.

Joyce had been looking forward to this since she last thought of it. They both had cooked, but never together, and never as a mom and daughter. She already had her own apron on, and was just finishing the final touches on Emily’s hair. No matter how she looked, she was always irresistibly adorable. Emily may have considered it a curse, but Joyce found it to be a bountiful blessing.

“All done,” Joyce steered her over to the cabinets while she took out a cutting board. “I need you to find me a pot and fill it up with some water, okay?”

With confidence, Emily shook her head yes, and so did the bun of hair behind her head. Joyce bit her lower lip, trying her best not to smother her again. They were stored in the lower cabinets, and Joyce couldn’t help but watch her padded rump slouch over while the owner of it searched diligently for such a simple thing. It was the prospect of helping that had Emily so engaged, as well as being able to cook with Joyce. Maybe she could even pick up a thing or two…

While she filled the pot with water in the sink, Joyce grabbed all the vegetables she needed from the fridge, stepping behind Emily, washing them under the stream.

“Is this much good?” Emily asked, eyeing the level carefully. Normally she wasn’t so anal about something so trivial, but she felt the need to be so persnickety given she was working by Joyce’s standards now.

“That much is fine. Be careful when you move it to the stove, okay?” Joyce suddenly didn’t sound so jokey anymore, as she watched Emily move the heavy, jostling pot of water. She nearly let out a sigh of relief once it touched the stove. Not that she didn’t trust Emily, but she didn’t want her getting hurt on her watch. She needed to remind herself that Emily was a functioning adult at times like these. She could get a bit too into her role.

“Now come and watch Mommy chop,” she brought Emily to her side, making sure she had a good view. Showing her hand to Emily, the tips of her fingers were curled inwards, saying, “Like a kitty, okay? It’s a good way to avoid boo-boos.” She looked as if she were waiting for a nod, and Emily happily answered so.

Emily knew the gist of proper cutting etiquette, but she supposed a review could never hurt, and truthfully it was a little fun playing the ‘aspiring chef.’ There was no harm in mixing a little fun with the more serious bits, and starting with a bell pepper, Joyce in a few simple cuts had it divided into halves. Emily had to blink for a few seconds, processing what she just had seen. Wasn’t that a little bit too fast?

Clearly it wasn’t as spectacular to Joyce though, as she was still hinged on the much simpler part of the lesson. Either she considered her level of speed insignificant, or something far beyond Emily’s own level. “See?” She showed off her hand yet again. “Kitty paws.”

Emily nodded again, only with a bit more curiosity as she watched Joyce chop. Again, she moved like lightning as the metal blade slipped and sliced through the vegetable, moving by even intervals and leaving uniform victims in its wake. And as a parallel yet synchronized process, she moved her fastening hand down the vegetable as the knife moved, maintaining an even space the whole way.

“Think you wanna try?”

Unexpectedly intimidated, Emily nervously answered, “Uhm, sure...” The other half of the bell pepper was set in front of her, and the bar had been set awfully high. She felt like she was destined to fail.

Slowly, she mimicked the “kitty paw” approach, as Joyce called it, then with much more mindful precision tried to form her first cut. Then when she pressed, it wasn’t nearly as smooth as a motion as Joyce’s was. Instead, there was slight resistance in her cut, and she had to press, then a telltale snap would erupt as the knife hit the board. Then she tried the next, and it was somewhat the same. The next one too, and by now she could see her spacing was off.

Before Joyce could give any input, Emily was the first in a whine, “How am I supposed to do it like you?”

“Ah...well...” Joyce at a near loss thought for a moment. She was starting to think that she may have made something that looked skilled into child’s play, especially to a novice. It was easy, but only when you had years of dedicated experience to back it… It was an innocent, yet broad question, and it had no easy answer.

“Here,” Joyce had taken one hand into each of hers, and positioned the blade. “One step at a time.” Even Joyce needed to pause for a moment, as it was like she had to explain how to breathe. She didn’t put much thought into her technique nowadays, considering the best she could say right now was to just do it, and even if she was above average, she wasn’t exactly a master cook. What a spectacular teacher she’d be.

“You need to start with a small cut from the bottom,” Joyce helped her position the knife, just so it was slightly leaning into the bottom edge of the pepper closest to the board. “That way when you press down...” She moved her hand down, and consequently Emily’s, and further down the line the actual blade, as the small, simple incision they had made expanded across the arch of the pepper with ease and a small clack from the knife hitting the board. “Like that, I guess,” Joyce simply stated, whilst Emily stared in awe.

“Is it really that easy?” Emily exclaimed over such a simple thing, admittedly giddy to fully try it herself. Her slight shuffles caused a few crinkles from her bottom, and it warmed Joyce’s heart to no end. “...Can you show me again?”

Joyce smiled, then set themselves up for the next cut. It had a little more spacing than she’d have usually put, but she wanted to give Emily a generous area to work with.

“Ready? One more time. So start with a small cut on the other side, then ease it down...” Another successful cut, and Emily was unashamedly ecstatic. She actually felt like a pro, and had discovered a secret that revolutionized the wheel. She’d been thinking about sliced bread all wrong!

“Okay, now it’s your turn.” Joyce let go of Emily’s hands, and after a second went over to the stove to turn on the burner, right underneath the pot of water. She came back to Emily and saw her accelerating into a rapid pace.

“Easy now,” Joyce warned, placing a hand on her shoulder to slow down. “It’s not a race, okay?” She chuckled over Emily’s slight remorse.

“I just wanted to do it like you, that’s all.” Emily spoke earnestly, already trying to elevate herself to the heights of the greats. But apparently she was flying too close to the sun.

“You’ll get there, but only if you play it safe. Mommy’s being very generous letting you use a knife you know,” Joyce spoke sternly, but with a joyful smile as Emily laughed in return. Again, it felt strange to be worried by Emily handling a tool she was more than capable of, but the kid’s diaper around her hips spoke differently…

“What’re we making, anyway?” Emily asked while she finished up her final chops.

“Stir fry. Quick and easy,” she answered while grabbing the package of noodles from another cupboard.

“What time is it though? Isn’t this a bit early?”

“Maybe, but it should work right about to dinner time. Besides, if we need to turn in early, so be it. Tomorrow’s probably going to be busy.” She spoke with equal parts simplicity and dread. She had no idea what tomorrow would be like, and even if it went well, that still meant there was another whole 48 hours for something else to go wrong. But for the sake of being positive, she tried not to think that way.

Emily had already had her fair share of worry, so she did her best to shrug it off and watch Joyce work, while also moving onto the next pepper.

“Hey Joyce?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“How long did you say that you were cooking with your dad for?”

“Umm...At least 10 years, I guess?”

Emily nearly collapsed from the nonchalant mention of her titanous level of experience.

“Er, how long might it take for me to cook like you?”

Joyce simply snickered as the water began to bubble, and she took a moment to admire Emily’s progress.

“Why’s that? Is Mommy’s cooking suddenly not good enough for you anymore? Huh?”

“N-no!” stammering, Emily retorted.

“Emm-” she paused for a second, “Emily,” the same, typical smile overcame her face, and the corners of her lips rose just slightly, and the smallest sliver of teeth peered between her lips. “Baby steps, okay? If you really want to, you can practice with me more in the kitchen, if you’d like.”

“Really?” Emily responded as if she’d been told she was getting a puppy. Such a simple gesture had her eyes glistening, and she looked to be over the moon.

“Of course,” Joyce spoke while filling the pot with noodles. “What’s got you wanting to cook so badly, though?”

“W-well...” Emily started, then quickly reeled back into her shell. “I kinda like to cook, I guess...”

“Uh-huh?” Joyce asked half-seriously. Not that she doubted her, but Emily tended to be a pretty bad liar in front of her.

“And...and I don’t know...” She leaned slightly from side to side, crinkling to and fro. “It’s nice being able to do stuff together...”

Mildly surprised, Joyce blinked simply as she looked back to her busy bee. “We can always do more stuff together, Emm, but don’t we already do that now?”

“Kinda, I guess...” It was one of those responses initiated by her raw emotions and feelings rather than intelligent thoughts and words. The perk to being so understood by Joyce was being able to skip the translation process. She could throw her messy self at Joyce and she could decipher her very being in just a few glances, pokes, and prods.

“Is my little one feeling a little hungry for some more attention?”

“...”

“Emmy,” Joyce started to laugh, “when you want something, don’t be shy and ask for it! Besides, the worst that’ll happen is I say no?”

Emily was suddenly out of things to chop, so she looked over to Joyce, with a bashful blush and smile, then nodded her head.

“What can I do now?”

“You...” Joyce trailed her voice as she looked about the kitchen, searching for something. A look of clarity came over her though when she left the kitchen, then came back with a familiar item. “You’re on break,” she handed the adult-sized baby bottle to her. “All gone, you hear?” She waited for Emily’s answer, which came right after. With some positive reinforcement, and a pat on the head, she then had the girl busy nursing watch as she seasoned the vegetables.

“Hmm...” As if with a fine-toothed comb, Joyce scanned over Emily’s handiwork. “If I hadn’t known any better, a master chef could have been in here?” She held up a finely sliced piece of onion. The obviously exaggerated praise had Emily looking anywhere but at her biggest fan, yet the stream of juice didn’t stop one bit.

“Oh, actually,” gently, Joyce removed the bottle from Emily’s mouth, and placed the knife back in her hand, adjusting the pink apron slightly. “Hold the knife up a little bit?”

Puzzled, Emily listened as she looked at the knife herself, unsure of how to pose it. But pose it for what? She turned over to Joyce, just about to ask a question, but then the audible snap from her phone said plenty.

“J-Joyce!” Partly frantic, Emily set the knife down then rushed over to her. “What’re you doing!?”

“What?” Joyce spoke defensively, happily admiring the picture. “You look great! I don’t get to see my little girl in an apron very often, you know...”

“But I’m wearing…!”

“Diapers? So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so?’” Emily continued to whine, and after pulling Joyce’s arm down the slightest bit, she could see the screen as well. It was herself, from the waist up, looking at a kitchen knife with the same level of obscurity as she was feeling a second ago. With her bun tied back and wearing an apron, it was certainly a different look for her…

“See?” Joyce’s words pointed to the picture. “It’s a harmless picture. No diapers, and nothing naked.” Nothing we can see, at least. There wasn’t any need to add that though. Unnecessary nerves were the last thing Joyce wanted to stir.

“But...” Emily wanted to find some sort of fault with it, because she wanted to believe there was. If she knew what she was wearing underneath, of course her paranoia assumed others would think the same upon first glance.

“But nothing.” Joyce calmly, yet firmly ended it there. “The picture stays, and I won’t hear anything else about it, understood?”

At a loss for words, Emily mumbled an ‘okay’ and continued to be quiet. It wasn’t that Emily was easy to manipulate, but she was simply more trusting of Joyce now. Maybe if she had really pushed, and even if Joyce felt uncertain about it herself, she’d have considered deleting the photo. But over something so small? Not a chance. Not when she was explicitly given permission to be a shot-caller. To be a mommy.

“I’ll need one of you smiling at some point though,” playfully, she warned. “Either that or I’ll need to tickle one out of you...” the minor way she spoke to herself scared and stiffened Emily to no end. When it was a clear joke she knew to take it in stride, but from the outside looking in, it sounded like she was genuinely forming a plan… It didn’t take long for the bottle to be back in her mouth.


“Well? How did my special little birthday girl like her num-nums?” Joyce fawned and gushed as she dabbed the washcloth over Emily’s face, barely able to move in her highchair.

“Good as always!” Emily complimented, still relishing in the wonderful warm feeling she felt in her stomach. Though, a growing tinge in her bladder somewhat dampened the mood. Figuratively, of course. This was starting to feel oddly repetitive.

Joyce had kept to her word though, and after being relieved of her apron, the only clothes Emily had on other than a diaper at this point was a bib just covering her breasts. Thankfully Joyce didn’t use that as an excuse to take away her silverware… It had been a wonderful night though, and what a special treat to finish it off on it was. Being her third time in the highchair, the feeling wasn’t too terrible… The security to it all was kind of alluring, in a way.

Happily, and dumbly, because she knew it was okay to let herself go, Emily patted her hands on the plastic tray, swinging her legs, anticipating the release from her confines.

“What’s gotten into you?” Joyce curiously nudged, washing their dishes. “You’re awfully cheery?”

“I don’t know,” Emily giggled. “I’m just happy, that’s all...” she looked thoughtfully around the kitchen, soaking in all the love, care, concern and comfort she’d been given. “Thank you...”

On a similar wavelength, past the jokes and simple banter, Joyce repeated the same back to her.

“Now who’s ready for a bath?” Joyce looked around the room, curiously, opening cabinet after cabinet, and even lifting a candle for something that didn’t seem to exist. “Who is it? Hmm...I wonder who...” The simple charade was beyond ridiculous, but it was exactly why the absurdity had Emily cracking a smile. She couldn’t help but give a noise of approval once one by one her arms were lifted, and her armpits were analyzed like footprints.

“Where is she?” Earnestly, Joyce continued the little game.

“I’m right here,” Emily tried to say plainly, but it was obvious the silliness was infecting her voice as well. She tried to lean her head into Joyce’s, but just as she was going to make contact, Joyce leaned back like something else’d caught her attention.

“Hey!”Emily swung her feet from the chair, and the tips of her toes just brushed the jeans of her mother figure.

Then, just as she made contact, it looked to Joyce as if it were a fleeting thought, and she passively looked towards Emily with disinterest, then shifted rapidly to ecstatic surprise.

“There she is!” after a small gasp, Joyce cooed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Emily countered in a jokingly mockful voice. She repeated the same words with an artificial tone that nowhere near resembled her own, or Joyce’s.

“Oh?” Joyce sounded in an almost offended surprise. “Is that what you think I sound like, missy? Maybe I should’ve resorted to the tickling, after all...”

Immediately Emily’s mouth was tripping over itself, begging and pleading for her not to. It was all too wonderful, to see her little girl have the fear of God be put into her by mere tickles. It made Joyce feel a way she never had before. It was like trying to describe why you called blue, blue. There wasn’t any explicit reason for it other than it simply was that way because it was. It had no beginning chain of logic, nor an end. It was one of the many qualities of life you accepted, and celebrated its existence rather than questioned.

“Well, you were being so good earlier, that I thought a little dessert was in order. But I’m not so sure now...”

Dessert? Emily perked at the sound. Never once had dessert been on the menu here. Smoothies were one thing, but that came from a tangent, not an orderly sequence. And she’d just threatened the balance of this unknown, but likely delicious treat! She stared worriedly at Joyce, trying her best to seem apologetic. She didn’t even know if she was pretending right now, as the mention of sweets blurred the line between fiction and reality to such an intensifying degree. She was a mess of emotions and sensations, and they all screamed for deliciousness.

Joyce had her arms crossed, and she looked reluctant, as if it were against her better judgment.

“I don’t know...”

“Please?” Emily was back to her innocent self, and it was a single word that could make Joyce cave. She planned to from the start, but Emily sure knew how to dish out the big guns…

Joyce turned over to the fridge, opening the door after giving Emily’s most recent artwork an affectionate glance, then moved a few larger items to the side so she could pull out what she’d been hiding this whole time.

“Ta-dah!”

Covered by a thin layer of cardboard, with a plastic window etched into it, Emily could recognize the simple, yet elegant pattern printed around the display box in a pale orange and pink box. The front of it was a slew of cursive that Emily barely cared to read, but she recognized the logo immediately. It was a bakery, and a terribly expensive one at that. Lowering it just enough for Emily to see, inside was a plump square of marble cake, topped in a fluffy, light-looking frosting, crowned by a small centerpiece of banana and strawberry. Two small mocha sticks stuck out at an angle like an abstract hat ornament, and small shavings were lightly sprinkled about the top. The cake itself looked to be an enchanting gradient, as the dark chocolate core lightened into a vanilla hue at the top. It was a generously sized slice of cake that had Emily’s mouthwatering to no end.

“Is that for me?”

Joyce nearly rolled her eyes. “Of course it is! It’s your birthday! Did you really expect me not to get you cake?”

Emily blinked her glossy eyes, and Joyce moved over to the counter with the box, already setting out a plate. What Emily hadn’t seen was the small piece of white chocolate mounted to the top with her name illustrated in a thin chocolate sauce. The finishing touch was the slim stick candle slipped on top, and Joyce lighting it with a match. Emily eyed it temptingly, almost wishing it were within her power to burst free from the chair. The lights in the kitchen started to dim, to the point where the only lights were the glow from the apartment windows looming over the streets, and the orange radiance from the symbolic flame.

“Happy birthday to you,” in an angelic voice, Joyce began to sing as she moved the plate closer and closer to Emily. “Happy birthday to you!” The rise and fall in her voice was perfect, and pure lyrical ecstasy to Emily’s ears. Her voice was complete and total serenity to Emily, and if it were a drug she’d already be an addict.

“Happy birthday dear Em-mily!” She made a small, satisfied squeal as she rubbed noses with Emily.

“Happy birthday, to you!” With the only light in the room illuminating Emily’s wonderful, adorable face, Joyce looked on with immeasurable satisfaction.

Taking a moment, Emily puffed up her cheeks, then unleashed a small gush of wind upon the poor, defenseless flame. The wave killed the flame almost immediately, and marked the first milestone she’d ever shared with Joyce. It made her so happy, Emily even against her adult will pushed heavily on her bladder, and the tight stretch finally snapped as the strange, yet acceptable stream flooded her diaper.

Potty face. Joyce sighed with a smile as she watched, but could see she was still focused on the pastry. Plucking out the candle, Joyce also snagged the chocolate sign too and gave it a bite. Sweets weren’t her all-time go-to, but even she was curious to how the cake tasted…

Just as Emily went for the fork, Joyce halted her with an “Ah-ah!” Emily paused, looking sorely cheated out of her special gift. Joyce looked stern for a moment, but then went back to an immediate smile, knowing she’d teased her for long enough.

Emily wasted no time, plunging the fork into the fluffy, spongy substance, and was overwhelmed by a wondrous sense of stimulation the frosting was a smooth, airy cream that only added to the perfect mouthfeel, and she couldn’t help herself but already include the banana into her first bite. The strawberry would come later, and it’d be just as spectacular of a combo to the rest of the cake as was the concoction in her mouth right this moment. Had her mouth not been full, she’d have been making ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs,’ but because it was, she resigned herself to muffled, content noises. Emily was too caught in a drunken pleasure for her to care when Joyce took the fork from her, stealing her own bite. She kept hers a bit smaller though, just so Emily’s stomach had more to look forward to.

Though maybe a bit more reserved, Joyce was as equally pleased as well. Clearly this had been the right choice, and she was happy to see her efforts had paid off in full.

No words were exchanged when Emily repeatedly opened and closed her hands, begging for her eating utensil to be returned to her. Joyce happily complied, and while she was eating, Joyce needn’t force a smile out of her for a picture, because the cake’d already done so for her. You could see a bib around her neck, and the high cushion to the back of her chair was questionable...but… She slipped the phone away, going back to admiring the spectacle.

It was a never-ending gravy train as flavorful bite came after flavorful bite. She never wanted the mouthgasms to stop, and the only times they did was when she needed to wash it down. At some point her juice turned into milk, not that she cared, and went back to happily munching her food. But in the end, the simple mention of such a state was indication enough of disappointment. Not that the cake was bad, no, but because there was none of it left. Granted, Emily felt like she’d easily overeaten, and her stomach strained to the point of a very mild pain. Punishment for her gluttony, she supposed.

“Good, I take it?”

Almost sluggishly Emily nodded yes, and Joyce could only chuckle.

“I’m glad,” Joyce finally cleared off the tray, and even stole a swab of frosting from Emily’s bib, slipping it into her own mouth. She undid the straps, then gave the suddenly blushing girl a testing squeeze on the crotch of her squishy diaper. She hoisted her off the seat, then slipped the tray back in.

“Ready for bath time?”

Satisfied on all imaginable fronts, Emily nodded her head.

Slipping the bib off, Joyce then took her by the hand and to the bathroom.

“You’ve done so much for me today, babygirl,” Joyce spoke soothingly as she laid Emily down on the bathroom tiles, announcing the loud noise of tearing adhesives. The faucet to the bath currently gushed a hypnotic noise as the room slowly heated to a relaxing temperature. A small amount of steam rose from the water, and it was the perfect setting to watch the night sky through the window, whilst surrounded in warm, yellow colors whilst getting ready to hop into the blue, clear water. Everything was clean and shiny, and soon Joyce would do the same to Emily. She’d be refreshed in a sweet aroma of scent and smell, and go back to being her perfect self. Not that she never wasn’t.

The diaper was only wet once, and it had a long way to go. Joyce thought about it for a moment, but tabled the idea for later. She wanted to focus much more on what was about to come. After removing Emily’s one article of clothing, she undid the bun in her hair and had her ready to be bathed.

Still intoxicated by the atmosphere and everything it entailed, Emily stood dully as she watched the water rise, and feel the steam brush her skin. She could almost fall asleep to the noise, but did her best not to.

“Someone’s looking a little sleepy, huh?” Emily turned her head to the source of the noise, and was stunned out of her sleep-induced state.

“J...Joyce?”

In a muffled reply, Joyce said, “What?” The reason it was muffled was because her shirt was covering her face, namely because she was taking it off. Setting it to the side, Emily wordlessly watched Joyce’s enchanting figure slowly unravel itself from the cruel confines known as clothes. Why was her body of such interest? Seeing her breasts suspended by the purple, patterned bra, the panties which complimented them came on display next as the simple stroke of her fingers slipped the denim flap from underneath the button. Lowering her pants, it displayed the rest of her curves, while Emily’s heart was in a shocking and unexpected tizzy, beating fast and heavy as she watched.

The simple shake of her head to fix the state of her hair made Emily’s blood-pumper yet again skip another beat. She watched nervously as she felt herself grow hot from more than just the steam. Joyce paid her shameless ogling no mind though, as she unclasped her bra and her beautiful breasts were a spectacular sight to see as well.

She’s a woman, so why am I… Emily tried to question further, but the feelings in her heart were telling her to stop, just so she could spend that much more time focusing on the one thing she could take her eyes off of. They were both women, though, right? So why did Emily feel the need to feel so...so flustered? It was strange how natural it felt to Emily though. She’d recognized this feeling with countless other people, but never to someone like Joyce. She’d never considered it, or at least she thought she hadn’t. Maybe Joyce was just that special? Again, questions were the last thing she wanted to entertain right now. Regardless, the feeling was undeniable.

Attraction.

Much like Emily, the last thing to come off of Joyce was her underwear as well, and suddenly she was just as naked as her baby girl. Emily stared at choice with reddened cheeks, and a face ridden with personal bewilderment. Her innocence only furthered the passion Joyce was feeling however, as unlike Emily, she knew exactly how she felt, and it was the perfect mix of motherly and partnerly affection towards her charge and partner. 

“Mommy needs a bath, too, silly. Is it okay if I join you?”

Meekly, Emily nodded her head yes, trying not to be so fixated on Joyce’s figure. It was funny in a way, thinking how Joyce’d become so casual to Emily’s naked figure, whereas the first sign of Joyce’s for some reason had Emily registering her as drop dead gorgeous.

Skin-to-skin contact came into play once Joyce had Emily in her arms again, and Emily wrapped her legs around Joyce’s waist. Emily pressed her smaller chest to Joyce’s easily larger one, and Emily locked eyes with the one person she couldn’t get out of her head.

The water swished as Joyce stepped in, and very slowly she came to her knees, submerging Emily’s body soon as well. Emily wasn’t sure of the body’s melting point, but she was sure she was dangerously close to it. Too many factors right now were pushing her close to a fever induced by sheer pleasure. And partly in the water, with Joyce sitting against the rim of the tub, Emily turned her head sideways so she could keep her face unobstructed while using Joyce’s breast as a pillow.

“I hope today was very special for you, Emmy. I love you so much, I want to wish you a very happy birthday.”

Not a sound was heard, other than the bathroom fan, and the slight stirs of water.

Joyce could feel Emily’s arms squeeze a little bit tighter around her, and her head nuzzle further into her chest.

Then, she heard it.

“I love you too...Mommy.”

So not to disturb the moment, Joyce brought a hand to her mouth as she winced, and her eyes blurred with tears.

Emily could feel herself be hugged tighter.
 

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On 4/9/2019 at 2:07 AM, Sarah Penguin said:

wheeeeeeeeeeeee :)

?

On 4/9/2019 at 10:57 AM, Little_Mouse said:

Wow - that was...I can't find the words to describe how it make me feel right now.

what an amazing chapter ?

Thanks a ton! I hope you continue to enjoy reading!


18 - Tub Time

The tiny bronze bell jingled and jangled as a pair of brisk heels shifted from concrete steps and over to a polished floor. The blaring noises and shining sun on the backs of her heels dulled as the door closed She gave the victorian-styled shop a few simple glances, but with an overall indifferent attitude, moved over to the finished wooden counter.

The hum of cars and beeps of horns polluted just the outer edge of the shop and unapologetically rapped against the glass. Mannequins in their plastic poses flashed their cloth trinkets, each one dressed and decorated in some form of fashion. One brandished a two-piece suit, and the other a simple, yet elegant, red party dress. The last was what could be best described as casual high fashion; wrapped in a scarf, small jacket, pants similar to, but not quite jeans, and some form of a shoe the spectator really couldn’t care to identify. The kind of fashion you needed to be rich enough to understand.

The vibrant, yet synthetic displays beckoned for the attention; just to have a pair of eyes ogle their most defining features. The freedom to express was as much their own as the ability to hear, think, feel, and speak. Despite being of such rigid and regulated mindsets, the customer looked on with envy.

Bundled at her side was the fur-lined jacket she’d just removed, trying to alleviate herself from the newfound warmth in the shop. Underneath she wore a blouse, and her face was dolled up in the kind of makeup that screamed business and professionalism. Her face stayed neutral, and harbored little enthusiasm. There was little expression at all. No indication of anything, really.

After a thoughtful glance and her phone, and allowing an exact minute to go by, she let a small sigh as she pressed the tiny head to the second bell on the desk. A ding rang with a considerably higher pitch compared to the doorbell, but lasted half as long.

“Coming! Coming!” With each frantic response, the distance between the two closed further and further. While the customer waited, she’d taken to admiring the countless rolls of fabric stored inside the wall. Admiring may have been too strong of a word. Observing them, at least.

The door behind the desk suddenly opened, and a face familiar from countless business dealings had emerged. With a pencil sticking from her ear, and her blonde, shiny hair tied back, she raised the rimmed glasses she was wearing just the slightest bit.

“Joyce! How have you been?”

The looming gray over her expression seemed to fade somewhat, as an albeit small, yet sunshine crept between Joyce’s sealed lips, and a true smile came. “I’ve been fine, Amy. And you?”

“Same old same old, I guess,” her pupils drifted to the upper right as if it reflected her thought process. Then she looked at Joyce with a puzzled look. “I can’t remember, was I supposed to have something ready for you?” She partly chuckled, as her confusion managed a lasting smirk on Joyce.

The mental image of her spacious office, and empty home started to fade the slightest bit. If she had any real friend, surely it was Amy. The one and only person she had a soft spot for.

She slightly laughed herself, as she seemed angry with herself for letting the same trick get her time and time again. “No, did you already forget? I thought I said I needed to be remeasured?”

Once clueless, her eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh! Right! You have a dinner coming up in a few months, right? Did you want something new altogether?”

“Ideally, yes,” Joyce spoke with a slight passiveness, already trying to formulate the perfect image in her mind. What would be appropriate? Taking the business climate and occasion into account, she at least knew where to start. Then again, Amy usually handled the creative process for her. Then she looked at Amy disapprovingly. “You didn’t schedule something over me, did you?”

“Other than getting a coffee started without you? Nope!” She lifted the side panel of the desk. “Come into the back. We can get started right away.”

The pair’s heels clicked to their own tunes as they moved into the back. Joyce had already set her jacket on the sofa, and was stepping out of her heels.

“Not that I mind, and from one friend to another, why did you want to be remeasured?” Amy asked, already sifting through her small basket. With her small roll of measuring tape, she turned back to the CEO who was already unbuttoning her shirt.

“I’ve been doing a bit more exercise lately,” without giving Amy her full attention, she unzipped her skirt next. Considering the bitter cold outside, it was at times like these she hated being a slave to business culture. Forget the stockings, she may as well have been naked from the waist down when it came to the wind and freezing temperatures. The seasons were ever-changing, but the clothing expectations always seemed to remain static. Or at the very least, no theme seemed to appeal to the winter… “I just want to make sure I still fit my normal sizes?”

Amy silently gave her figure a split-second scan.“I can understand that. Should I get something started for you too, by the way?” She gestured to the stairs leading up to her apartment. “I don’t mind making you a drink too.”

“I’ll take a coffee after,” Joyce fixed her hair as in just her underwear she stepped onto the small platform, looking into the mirrors. “Am I good to go?”

Amy wrapped the tape around her skin in various places, capturing all the digits that defined her as a person. With the most recent numbers by her side, Amy had supplemented her last few suspicions with visual truths. The measurements hadn’t deviated much really at all, but for the kind of money Joyce paid, the deviations were by a significant margin.

“You know, if the whole CEO thing doesn’t work out, I’d say you’d make a pretty good model for a magazine or fashion in general.” Amy eyed her with the look of an inspired artist. “I could always hire you as a mannequin?”

Craning her neck back, Joyce looked down on her backside. “...I’ll keep it in mind, but right now I think I prefer the entrepreneurship kind of business.” Taking advantage of the mirror, Joyce had taken to adjusting her hair the slightest bit.

“You’d be pretty surprised...” underneath her subject’s arm and close to her waist, Amy eyed the amount of inches with squinting eyes. “Fashion can be a dangerous game!”

“Really.” Her words carried off into the void. It wasn’t a question, or rebuttal to Amy’s claim. Her bland response killed what small talk they had going, and the rest of the review went on in silence.

“There is some difference...” Amy glanced from an old page to the new. “But not a terrible lot. Are you sure you want me to use these numbers? Didn’t you say it was a few months from now? Shouldn’t I expect an even greater difference then?”

About a second went by until Joyce had responded. “...I’ll have it fitted from there. I just felt like setting a new baseline, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Amy muttered in a lowered voice, clearly unconvinced.

And as Joyce remained still on the platform, with no one watching Amy’s face, the corners of her mouth slowly rose as Joyce’s intentions were as bare as her skin. With money being no object to Joyce, trivial visits like these were considered more of a social gathering interaction than a sizeable bill. If it only took a thousand to schedule a simple chat, or the company of a friend, even if Joyce wasn’t honest with herself, clearly she was willing to go through with it.

“A new baseline? You mean to tell me I reserved 45 minutes of my day just for me to spend only 10 of them measuring you?”

Suddenly flustered a tad bit, clearly hitting a sore spot, Joyce looked finally from the mirror and to Amy. “W-well...what do you care?” she countered with shaky nerves that did a poor job of shrouding the truth. “You’ll get paid.” With a small ‘hmmf,’ Joyce curtly turned herself back to her clothes and started to dress herself again.

“You drink yours black, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Just tell me if you want to chat for a while. I’m not cheap, but you don’t need to buy my friendship, you know?”

Genuinely trying to play dumb, Joyce feigned ignorance, saying, “What are you talking about? I just didn’t know how long it’d take.” Her hand clutched the jacket’s arm. “But I guess you’re right, there is a bit of time left. Forget the coffee, I’ll just head back early,” after finishing putting the rest of her clothes on, Joyce already turned swiftly for the door.

“Wait.”

Amy spoke simply, and without even giving her a meager glance. And Joyce did so, reluctantly, yet ultimately turning back to the couch. So little was Joyce ever talked to as an equal, and ordered around like this. She hated it, namely because it meant that they knew her down to a ‘T.’ Considering Amy knew her cup size, that probably made sense…

They saw past the empire she had built and what might she wielded. Rather than the hard facts and monumental numbers, they saw her in a light where she was stripped of all superficial qualities. Without her highrise, she was nothing more than a cocky and crude unpleasantry, which is why it was so hard for her to stay that way like this.

“Pretend all you want, but you’re a pretty bad liar. At least when it comes to this stuff,” Amy snickered as she briefly excused herself. She supposed the one perk to black coffee was how she could make it without even intending to. It was the same recipe as her own brew, except all you needed to do was stop at step 1: make the coffee.

Joyce with an annoyed sigh quit while she was behind, and waited until Amy came back down with two mugs in hand.

“So, what’s new?”

 Joyce accepted the warm mug. “Nothing noteworthy, I guess. I just moved into my new apartment about a week ago.”

“Oooh. Anything nice about it?”

“I guess.” She didn’t seem to look so enthusiastic about her monumental purchase. “Once you pass a certain price threshold, they’re all nice, I suppose.” It’s all it ever was. The same bells and whistles across the board, just under a different roof and different by a margin of a mere couple tens or few hundred thousands of dollars… Nothing that really affected the numbers too much.

“I guess,” Amy mimicked in a mocking voice, sipping from her mug. Joyce stared with a mindful look, trying to determine if she should be offended or not. “Really? Tell me more!” Amy slightly shook Joyce’s knee with her hand. “How many rooms does it have? Bathrooms? A garage? Balcony?”

“Two bedrooms. Well,” she paused, “three, I guess, but only two were furnished to begin with… I don’t think I’ll bother with the third.” The empty white walls echoed in her head.

“How’s the bathroom?”

“Good. Better than my last place, I’ll give it that. It’s one of those models where the showerhead is built into the ceiling?”

Her nonchalant attitude earned an obvious look of jealousy from Amy, raising a brow in disbelief while Joyce continued to seem oblivious, or rather, continued to stare off into space.

It never was easy talking to Joyce. Sometimes she was so absorbed in her mind at times, she was too deep in her own thoughts to hear the outside world. It was a silent and unspoken suspicion that Joyce didn’t know how to socialize outside of a work setting. Maybe she’d forgotten how to. Maybe she didn’t want to.

“Well, not all of us can live in a highrise with our sky showers!” Playfully, Amy joked, mostly, and even causing Joyce to laugh when she slowly started to realize how ridiculous she may have seemed.

“Sorry. I know I can’t be easy to talk to, sometimes...”

“Maybe if we did this more often you’d be a bit more relaxed?”

Joyce simply breathed through her nose, wishing for the same, yet regarding it like it were an impossible dream.

“Sometimes I miss not having all of this, you know.”

“What? Money? Fame? Status?”

“Yeah.” Joyce spoke simply, despite there being a chance that Amy was being rhetorical. Then she looked at Amy with an odd sense of seriousness. “All of it.”

“...Really?”

Suddenly with a much more forced attitude, Joyce backpedaled. “Yes...and no...I do like it, and I do feel accomplished, but I feel like I miss out on other, simpler stuff.”

“Well, what’s a normal week like for you?”

“Wake up, check the news, drive or be driven to work,” her ‘be driven’ part struck yet another unfortunate chord with Amy. She listened on though. “Work, maybe leave early if I need to make a dinner meeting or party, then...”

“Then?”

“Go home. Wash, rinse, and repeat. The weekends don’t exactly get much more exciting.”

“Have you tried taking up a hobby?”

“You mean exercising?”

“I don’t know... Actually, wait!” A bulb had lit above Amy’s head. “Didn’t you say you used to cook with your dad? Why not that?”

“Cook for who? Myself? You can’t exactly make spectacular one person meals...” she spoke somberly.

“Well what about...you know...”

Joyce looked at her with a puzzled expression, clearly indicating she did in fact not ‘know.’

“Dating? Meet someone?”

Joyce looked as if she were told to jump of a bridge; plagued with uncertainty and apprehension.

“I don’t know about that… I don’t think I’m very interested in meeting someone...”

“Come on, really? You’re gonna shoot it down without even considering it? There could be a great guy out there for you!”

Joyce didn’t look any more convinced.

“Or a great gal?”

She looked at Amy with strangeness, and Amy decided to cut that avenue short. “Fine, fine. Don’t blame me for trying though...” She sighed, as no other immediate ideas seemed to strike her. Thankfully though, for comedic relief and to alleviate some of the tension, a silent predator pounced from the ground below and onto the top of the sofa between Amy and Joyce.

Each surprised in their own way, Amy was the first to speak. “Ashes!” She tutted disapprovingly, but of course she couldn’t really be mad. The cat meanwhile seemed to care little for the scolding, and positioned itself next to Joyce.

“Ugh...he always manages to slip out when I move up and downstairs...” Setting her mug down, she moved over to the furry friend nuzzled against Joyce’s leg, who was currently watching the cat with a pleasant fascination. “Sorry about that, I’ll move him back upstairs, where he should be,” with her last few words being heavily directed at the culprit.

The only thing that stopped her from grabbing him though was Joyce’s polite refusal. “I don’t mind,” a small smile crept over her face as she started to pet him, and a quiet purring ensued. “I don’t get to see him much, anyway. He can stay like this.” As she looked over to Amy, the warmth in her face seemed to dissipate a little. “Is that okay?”

Suddenly realizing the dynamic, Amy conceded with her own smile, sitting back down, admiring the exchange silently for a few moments. She then gave her expressionless cat the kind of eyes that spoke “You got lucky, buster.” But as she watched Joyce calmly continue her pets and light scratches, she spoke simply.

“Isn’t the answer pretty simple?”

Somewhat lost in petting the cat, Joyce turned over to Amy. “What is?”

“Your loneliness issue? Why don’t you just get a pet? A cat would probably be good.” Amy then interjected the brief silence though, adding, “But Ashes is off the table. He may be my little troublemaker, but he’s still my furball.”

Joyce danced her index finger along the top of his head, and it earned a wonderful meow, warming her seemingly cool and collected demeanor. But it did little for her response to Amy.

“I don’t think a pet is really for me, so he’s all yours.” She spoke simply, ending it on a small chuckle. “I guess I like the idea of something or someone to be with...but, I’m not so sure. I don’t know what I want. Besides, I wouldn’t be home enough. Even if it was a cat, then they’d be just as lonely.”

“So get two?”

“One of anything is plenty.”

“Then just spend more time at home?”

It was doable, which was exactly why Joyce knew she was making excuses for herself. It didn’t stop her refusals though. “That’s not what I mean...”

“It won’t get any better unless you try to make it better, Joyce,” Amy took a sip from her mug. “There’s a difference between trying to solve your problems and learning to live with them. I’d like to think that someone will come along the way and change your mind, but really, I’m not so sure considering we’ve known each other for so long, and nothing seems to have happened yet...”

It was enough to make Joyce remorseful over her own inaction, but Ashes, meanwhile, had rolled onto his other side, purring as he rubbed more against Joyce’s thigh, beckoning for the the pets to continue. Amy watched with a tad bit of annoyance, realizing just how much of a drama queen her cat really was, muttering to herself. “Always trying to be in the limelight…”

“I want a relationship, but I don’t know what kind I want. It’s hard to talk about…” She had moved on to testing the squishiness of his paw pads. “Does that make any sense?”

“As much sense as using a seamstress for therapy?”

“What can I say? You haven’t steered me wrong before?”

At the lighthearted comment, both women shared an equally genuine laugh, polishing off the rest of their coffee.

“Something will change, Joyce. I’m sure of it. When something does come along though, I wouldn’t pass up on it. Chase it, and see how far it goes!”

She wanted something to come, and she’d earnestly try to never let go, but it’d already been so long, and never once had an opportunity come. She figured her chance at happiness would never present itself.

There wasn’t any way Joyce could confide in another person truly and wholly. She wanted such conflicting things in a partner; independence, dependence, innocence, determination. They had to be self-sufficient, and capable of doing for themselves, yet also to lean so heavily on her. Her desires were so scattered, it was likely impossible to find someone who could piece that sort of relationship together. Nevertheless, she could only hope that Amy’s words of wisdom applied to a desire as peculiar as hers. She had the business, but now she wanted the homelife… Alas, she doubted that she’d ever meet someone that’d understand her on such a level. Never.

“I think it’s about time I start heading back to the office.” She watched Ashes thoughtfully when she stood up, a little sad to disappoint the feline by ending their little cuddle session. In his relaxed position, he cocked his head awkwardly, looking for where his cuddle buddy had gone off to. He briefly meowed.

Amy walked over to the whining cat and substituted with her own petting.“You sure?” she glanced at the nearby clock. “I’m sure I could find a way to kill 10 more minutes?”

With the joke of today’s meeting still far from wearing thin, Joyce had taken it in stride. “No, I think I’ll be alright. Traffic will probably eat up that free time for me.”

“Mmm. I suppose you’re right,” Amy spoke somewhat pensively, already feeling the flame they had begun to forge slowly dim into nothingness. On rare occasion could she actually get Joyce to be herself, and it was times like these when it was just long enough to tease Joyce’s true personality. It took a little bit of time, but she could feel reminded that life wasn’t lived inside an office, and that there were people who cared for her. They were friends, but Amy couldn’t say she truly knew the woman. It made her a little sad to say that, despite Joyce only being a client, but as a sense of recourse she reminded herself that socializing was a two-way street.

They said their goodbyes, and after slipping her jacket back on, her dimmed attitude felt at home once again when it dived into the windy morning, just a few minutes shy of noon. Despite the crisp chill that froze her cheeks, and reddened the tips of her ears and nose, her eyes wandered aimlessly about the city street, being a silent observer to her surroundings, and a spectator to her own life. Just when her cheeks started to sting from the cold, she reminded herself that there was a heated car right next to her.

Her hands gripped the durable foam surrounding the wheel, and her directional clicked and clicked. And clicked. And clicked.

And clicked.

One hand sank to her side, and seemingly by chance fell down by her phone; just close enough to grab it. With a few simple strokes, the ringing on her phone hummed as a substitute for the silent engine.

“Sheila?”

Using her rearview mirror, forced habit begged for her to check her eyeliner, and to make sure the coffee mug hadn’t harmed her lipstick. She knew her blouse wasn’t wrinkled, thankfully, and her pantyhose were as smooth as could be.

“I wanted to tell you that I won’t be back today. I’m not feeling very well.”

A few moments went by, and the directional still continued to tick endlessly.

“I understand. George can be my stand-in for the quarterly report, and just have him give me a recap tomorrow. And if you could reschedule the meeting with Anderson for Thursday I’d appreciate it.”

“Then if not just shoot for Monday next week. If not then...” How much she didn’t want to deal with this right now. She wanted to drop everything… She loved her job and what she did, but sometimes it could all just be too much. “Then we’ll handle it from there.” Finalized in her decision and action, she finally pulled out and onto the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

The apartment was shrouded in a daytime darkness, with the only light coming from the open doorway behind Joyce. Unlike the hallway behind her, a few thousand square feet felt terribly empty. Stepping out of her heels as she stepped into the supposedly homely part of her home, she glanced longingly at the kitchen. She couldn’t be certain, but it was probably a safe guess that three of the four chairs at that table hadn’t moved since the people she paid had put it there.

The couch was neat and orderly; a cushion to each corner, and the coffee table’s contents fitted in the proper position. She liked to keep things clean. And the biggest secret to it all? If you never used it, it couldn’t get dirty. Not a single light was turned on, and apart from the few spots light did manage to seep in through the large windows, a great deal of shade hung in varying degrees throughout the home.

Each and every room that mattered was fully furnished, and there wasn’t a touch of echo. But how could you know it echoed if you barely spoke? There wasn’t anyone to speak to. And she lied, there was an echo. Not in the verbal sense, but the emotional. 

With a destination already in mind, she skipped by the tv, windows, bathroom, guest room, empty storage room, office, and stepped into the one place she could call familiar out of forced circumstance. There was a slight jostle of keys when the jacket pocketing them hit the ground, and she laid herself on the luxury mattress, yet finding absolute zero luxury in it.

A dead silence sang throughout the apartment in its tone deaf lull, and it was loud enough to make her ears bleed. The cushy pillow and memory foam knew exactly how to make her body feel comfortable, but not her emotions. Not her mind, and not her heart. And as her head sunk into the pillow, she stared into the ceiling, and nothing stared back at her.


The tears wouldn’t stop, but neither did each other’s embrace, which is exactly why her ducts showed no signs of stopping. Her cautious hand clutched the back of Emily’s head, fastening her securely to her chest as she openly wept, moved to pleasant shambles as a weight inside her seemed to be pulled away with such jarring force, she was simply stunned. There was a gaping hole left inside her heart, and almost immediately it was being filled with some inexplicable substance that infected her with complete, total euphoria. She wanted to hear it again. She needed to hear it again. What gave her purpose, what gave her meaning. What reminded her how to feel and have emotions.

The only thing that could shock her out of such an emotional state was when she could hear a sobbing other than her own, and feel the trickles of something down her chest.

“E...Emmy?” between her sobs, Joyce managed to ask. “What’s the matter?” Tearily, she chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t know...” sniffling herself, Emily rubbed one of her eyes. “You started to cry, so I started to… I don’t like seeing you sad.”

It was another innocent line from the person she loved the most, and to hear even as the provider she was still so deeply cared for, she bit her trembling lip as she rested her head on Emily’s.

“Emmy?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I be a little selfish?”

“Of course you can!” Emily spoke with disbelief, trying not to mind the slight crack in her voice from such a rapid shift in tones. After all she’d done for her, and she still felt the need to ask for one measly thing in return? Hell, at this point Emily was prepared to sign off her left kidney! Still very much using Joyce as her cushion, she still looked upwards to the loving woman that stared back at her. “What is it?”

“...again?” It sounded as if she said something before that word, but they came as tiny, incoherent whispers.

“What?” With some leeway in Joyce’s grip, she rose slightly in her lap to become better face to face. “What did you say?”

“...say it again?”

“Say it? Say what...” And as Emily began to repeat the question, she felt her nerves and anxiety creeping to an all-time high. Had she really forgotten so soon what she just said? It was hard to believe those words came from her mouth… Nevertheless, they did, and she could feel the strange, yet pleasant remnants of the distant syllables trying to burn fiercely once again.

And as her face spelt realization, Joyce herself started to look incredibly nervous, yet with eyes that begged shamelessly for the repetition. Emily had never seen Joyce so vulnerable before. So innocent…

“M...mom...my...” Emily awkwardly played with the word, not finding it to be so easy this time, now that she had all her mental and emotional ducks in a row. The thought of Joyce being the flustered one was oddly sobering for her own mood. As if it were a trigger word though, she could feel Joyce’s arms squeeze her waist, and a gleeful noise escape the woman.

“Now the other part!” Eagerly, Joyce egged on.

Despite taking up the majority of her vision, Emily started to find it extremely difficult to look at Joyce. In mere moments the tables had been turned…

“I….ov...you...” In a tiny whisper, Emily spoke.

With the shoe on the other foot, Joyce turned her ear towards her. “I couldn’t hear you, honey. Louder?” Every part of her personality told Emily that she was on the edge of her seat, and given it was a sight so rarely seen, Emily felt compelled to satisfy.

“I...I love...you...”

A sudden, yet welcome tender exchange began as Emily felt her lips interlocked with Joyce’s. One smooth set of lips pressed to the other, one of their hands were interlocked with the other while Emily used the other for support. What Emily experienced was what she’d been teased this entire time. The seductive, dangerous lover that lurked underneath the sheets, and hid behind the matronly mother Joyce portrayed herself as. It was the third persona hiding behind the business woman and caretaker. Another friendly face Emily had only been given tidbits of, and was just only starting to understand. Only just starting to enjoy.

For a few moments, Emily forgot she could breathe through her nose, which is why she suddenly pulled away for a breath of air. Joyce meanwhile had found her bravado and confidence once more, as if she’d stolen Emily’s like a succubus.

It was certainly a strange departure from Joyce, as despite all being rolled into a single package, and considering Joyce a single entity, the name ‘Mommy’ felt oddly appropriate right now… It was off-putting, yes, but an unexpectedly interesting privilege she now felt she had exclusive access to. Joyce only had one baby girl, and Emily only had one Mommy. The pair was intertwined, and one held all the interest of the other. Trapped in a symbiotic relationship, one’s love longed for the other’s.

“I’m sorry it took me so long...”

She looked down at Emily with a curious stare. “So long for what?”

“You know, to say it? To call you...M...mommy?”

The tone, circumstances, and expression didn’t seem to matter. The two syllable word tickled Joyce’s heart no less, and it felt just as amazing as the last time. That being said, it didn’t deter her from comforting the girl.

“Awwh… Don’t worry over something as silly as that,” she brushed Emily’s hair, but then slowly leaned forward, just enough to submerge Emily’s hair in the warm water.

“But you’ve always thought of me as your,” she paused for an embarrassed moment, “baby, and only now I’m starting to...” Her heavy hair clung to Joyce’s skin as the water seeped from it, but none of it seemed to change either one’s attitude. They were so focused on each other, their surroundings had lost its meaning completely.

“Maybe it was a little sad that you’d call me Joyce instead of Mommy...” Joyce spoke truthfully, and it doubled Emily’s regrets. “But,” with a finger underneath her chin, she slowly rose Emily’s eyes to hers. “Now that you’re saying it, I know that you mean it. That makes me a thousand times happier than if I forced you to.” Her smile spurred one for Emily as well. “I want you to call me what feels right, okay? Mommy, mom, mama, or even Joyce. Whichever name makes you feel the most comfortable.” Joyce knew what she really wanted Emily to call her, but hearing it twice already was more than enough, and her desires had been extremely humbled. Even if she could only hear it every once and while, it’d be more than enough to satisfy her.

“Well...I want you to call me what feels right, too.” Emily spoke with certainty, and Joyce happily agreed, though, truthfully she’d been doing it from the very start. She wouldn’t try and trample on her kindness, though.

“Are you ready to get squeaky clean, now?” Without waiting for an answer, Joyce already spun her around and into place while she reached for the shampoo.

“I can do it,” charitably, Emily reached for the bottle, but it was pulled outside her range.

Still outside her reach, Joyce poured some into her hands and was already rubbing them together. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna miss out on giving my little one a bath!”

“I was just trying to help...” Emily muttered defensively. “You need to wash your hair too, you know?”

“That’s very true, my little Watson.” Chuckling, she already made contact with Emily’s scalp. “But I can do that after I get started on you.”

“Whatever you say...” Emily’s eyes had already closed their curtains, as she sat lazily on her knees, slightly slouched forward while the tender scrubs forced her forward and back.

“So, have you had a good day?” Joyce spoke slow and soothingly, already aware of just how lazy Emily could get during tub time. It was a disarming voice that confirmed and reinforced Emily’s desires to eject and cruise on autopilot.

“Mhmm. It’s been the best one yet...”

Yet. Emily unknowingly had set the bar, and Joyce was already itching at the challenge of trying to top it. Too bad this one still had 6 more hours to it… Even with that in mind, it meant 6 more hours until she could give it her all yet again, but also 6 more hours to enjoy what a personal treat today had been as well. Maybe she should have put two candles on the cake?

“Well I’m very, very, glad to hear that,” a small trickle of water pouring from a cup expanded into a mini waterfall as it washed through Emily’s soapy hair. After a few more repeats it was slowly transitioning back it its sleek and shiny self. The only way of knowing anything changed was if you took a moment to smell the wonderful fragrance imbued in her hair. “And after we get all cleaned up we’ll have a little more time to play, alright? So start thinking about what you want to do.”

“Let’s watch a movie,” Emily somewhat mumbled in a murmuring voice. Joyce only laughed the tiniest bit.

“A movie? I don’t know. We just got finished with two hours of tv. More than two, I should add.” Emily could feel the scolding stare on her back, and it only made her smile, and try not to fidget. “Maybe, but I was thinking maybe we could do something else? I’d prefer for you to be a little awake before bed.”

“Huh? Why?” The idea of being awake before bed seemed a bit counterintuitive, and it didn’t make Joyce’s intentions any clearer.

“Mmm...” Joyce ‘hmmed’ thoughtfully. “It’s a surprise. You’ll just need to wait.”

Emily tried to turn her gears as best as she could, but her concentration was often broken by the gentle scrubs in her particularly sensitive spots. The whole way Joyce made no comments other than positive reinforcement, taking in every moment of bathing with her baby.

“Joyce?” A small, personal trance inside of Joyce wavered the slightest bit. So did that mean it was a grownup question?

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you have such a...nice body?”

Joyce blinked, then felt her cheeks grow a little warmer than she’d have liked. “Wh, what do you mean?” She tried to laugh it off, but Emily still looked just as focused.

“I’m serious though! I’m jealous...” Emily spoke on a more somber note, downcasted with a view of her own significantly smaller proportions. Namely her height.

“Honey...”

Emily could feel her bum slide across the bottom of the tub, and two soft cushions receive her back as they came to a halt.

“You’re beautiful, I promise. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Yeah, but maybe I want myself like you...”

“Well, I want you the way you are,” Joyce countered in a matter-of-fact voice, and Emily stared back all flustered.

“What do you mean? You’re like a head taller than me! If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think I’m your adopted-” Suddenly, Emily was overcome with a sense of stupid. She slowly turned back to the bathwater.

“Wrong,” Joyce ‘bzzed’ with her mouth, pulling back the dejected girl’s gaze. “Yes, maybe a little bit your size helps with me carrying you around,” Emily wouldn’t admit it, but she probably liked that advantage to being smaller, too… “But I like it because it’s part of what makes you, you.” She spoke with emphasis on the last part. “When we snuggle, hug, interact, do things together, I always like having my gal. I can’t explain it very well, but just know that you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t let these things get in the way of that,” jokingly, she lifted one of her breasts then dropped it. She then decided to take a gamble, saying, “Besides, if you were as tall as me, then both of our boobs would get in the way!”

Emily tilted her brows upward, clearly hurt, yet right before Joyce was going to say something, and odd giggle escaped her. Soon it became a chuckle, then a full-on laugh. Internally for Joyce, it was a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry,” Emily wiped a joyful tear from her eye. “You’re right. I’m just talking about stupid stuff. Sometimes I like being the smaller one, too...”

“It’s never stupid to talk about stuff like that,” Joyce had moved onto washing her own hair. “If you’re ever feeling bad about something, I want to hear about it.” It was another one of those moments where even the joking and teasing Joyce spoke with the utmost seriousness.

With nothing left to do but watch, Emily admired the sight as her caretaker and lover cleaned themselves of the day’s fatigue. Though, she had to be truthful when she said that it can get boring even to watch the one you love the most.

As if reading her mind, Joyce said, “I know, I should’ve thought of this.”

“Thought of what?”

“A bath with no bubbles?” Joyce spoke as if the answer were practically a given. “No toys, either?” Her second comment came with a little more personal disgust.

“Er, Joy- M...Mommy,” clearly she was still getting used to that. “I’m fine though?”

“Well I’m not.” Despite acting like the grown adult, Joyce’s small aggravation came off as a tiny temper, and Emily watched with amusement. Still, maybe bubbles could have been fun? The idea of trying to be imaginative with toys though felt like another task she wasn’t up to. For the time being, she’d take a simple soak over clashing plastic boats and rubber ducks together any day of the week. She looked over at Joyce who still seemed to be internally feuding. Maybe six days of the week?

Joyce finally sighed, then looked over to Emily. “I guess until then you’ll just be my little sea otter.”

“I thought I was a cat?” Emily narrowed her eyes.

“Kitty,” Joyce corrected. “And only on land. Cats don’t like swimming, you know? We need to keep the story believable, silly.”

The bewildering logic only made Emily snicker, trying to piece together just who they were trying to prove something to. At some point she’d drifted to the far end of the tub, and turning back to the relaxed Joyce, she crouched on her feet, then tensed her muscles, propelling herself towards her target. A large swish and swosh of the water resounded in the waves she left in her wake, poised like an arrow soaring through the water. Her momentum was absorbed by the water and Joyce’s body as she wrapped her arms around the woman, slightly surprised by the sudden attack.

Fixing her hair, Emily looked up to Joyce with a smile, both of their hair swept behind their heads, hanging heavy from the water.

“You know, I’ve never seen a sea otter before?” with no real reason, Emily said. 

“Really? I know the city aquarium has them… You haven’t been there?”

“No, I’ve only been here for about two years, you know?”

“Two years is a lot of time, you know?”

“Besides,” Emily dodged the question. “You wouldn’t really catch someone like me at a zoo or aquarium...” Her face partly sunk into the water, just enough to make bubbles with her nose.

“Why not?”

“That’s where people bring their kids, or, people go on dates. Jack and I didn’t ever go there...” The last bit seemed to have dampened her mood a little bit.

“Well isn’t that convenient then?”

Emily wordlessly looked up to Joyce. Only then did the words ‘kid’ and ‘date’ strike her.

“But-!” She’d been through this song and dance too many times before to not know where this was going.

“No butts,” Joyce pulled Emily a little closer. “The more that I think about it, either the zoo or aquarium sounds like a fun outing. I don’t think I’ve ever took my mom and dad?”

Double panic started to sink it.

“Wait! No! We can’t go with them!”

Joyce smirked. “So is that your way of saying you’re okay with it?”

“No! Well...” she started to look sheepish. “Yes. But, they probably have things they want to do too, right? Won’t we just be getting in the way?”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie, but we actually needed some stuff to do. Now that’s one day taken care of. Such a good helper...” Joyce quietly remarked as Emily’s nervous thoughts were coming into play.

“Won’t they think it’s kiddish?”

“No? Going to see animals isn’t as silly as you think, Emmy. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I want to go too,” Emily couldn’t help but agree, as she watched Joyce’s conviction quickly cement and become absolute. Why did she have to be so good at churning out ideas? “I’m sure they’ll like the idea too. And how else am I supposed to show you what a sea otter is?”

“I can google some videos?”

Joyce scoffed in an exaggerated manner, looking at Emily with pretend-condescending, yet still just as loving eyes. “I think you’ve had enough screen time for one night.”

Emily puffed her cheeks at that one.

“Trust me, you’ll be happy I showed you the real thing.”

Emily could only hope so, because her immediate feelings right now weren’t too stellar. She could only hinge herself on her genuine excitement of seeing the animals. It was more about the mixed setting that involved Joyce’s parents. Nothing against them, of course, but where she was with Joyce still felt awkward to publicize.

Their watery cuddles were then interrupted by the taller of the two rising from the water. Losing her cushion, Emily suddenly looked up to her, dreading the fallout.

“End of the line, kiddo.” Joyce leaned over to the console and pressed a button, and Emily could already start to hear the water drain.

“Do we have to? Just five more minutes?” Emily tried to use a pleading look.

“You may have me wrapped around your finger, but not this time.” Emily suddenly felt Joyce’s hands under her pits, and she was lifted to her feat. The sudden emergence from the water sent a wave of chill down her body, even with the bathroom fan humming away. Almost immediate with goosebumps, she was beyond thankful for the towel that wrapped around her like a cloak. While she was busy holding it together, a pair of hands bunched her hair while it was wrapped in a much more manageable-sized towel. Turning to the culprit, Joyce was almost exactly like her, except her towel gave her feet and arms free access.

“I want a towel that fits me like it does for you...” Emily passively spoke.

“And so it shall be.” Joyce spoke simply, stunning Emily over her casualness.

Snapped out of her thoughts, Emily tried to protest. “Wait, no, I wasn’t being serious! I was just venting!”

“Why not?” Joyce gave Emily a brief look while staring into the mirror. “It is cute using the bigger towels on you, but I know convenience is pretty important too.”

“Then just tell me how much it costs and where I can get it.” Emily knew she wasn’t going to get out of this one, but she could at least minimize the damage.

“No, and double no.”

How quick she was to forget Joyce’s signature trait…

“What? How come? J...Mommy, I can pay for it myself.”

“And that’s especially why I said no.” Joyce booped the annoyed girl on the nose, which simultaneously excited her as well as aggravate. “Mommy’s don’t give their babies an allowance, much less expect them to buy something on their own. If you want something, all you need to do is ask. And you did, which I’m very happy about, by the way~!”

Calling it asking was a stretch, considering it came off as a fleeting comment than a genuine complaint. She didn’t like the idea of having to watch her words around Joyce, but she knew if she didn’t then there would probably be a few too many unexpected purchases on their doorstep. If she wanted anything henceforth, she’d need to be discrete about it on her own time…

“What are you thinking about?”

Emily’s eyes wandered to the window. “...Nothing.”

Clearly unconvinced, Joyce shrugged for now and checked the wall-mounted screen.

While Emily’s eyes wandered, she noticed Joyce’s small pile of discarded clothes, right next to her pile. Well, where her pile should have been. Instead, all there was on the ground was a used diaper. Slightly used…

“Do you wanna get in your jammies now, or later?”  Joyce asked in a small shout over the hairdryer.

“Already? I can’t be that late, can it?”

Another glance at the clock read close to eight, and Joyce gestured to Emily to come closer with an authoritative finger. Emily took a few steps, then slowed to a halt as the door to the hallway came into her vision and mind. There wasn’t any real reason for it, but a strange idea popped into her head. Something totally unusual and unlike her typical self. It was odd, and devious? Devious, yet tempting…

“Emmy? Yoo-hoo?” Joyce wiggled the dryer as a reminder. What was she thinking about? “Coming?”

Blankly, Emily looked back to Joyce, then the door, then Joyce. And then as a smile crept on her face, she gleefully shouted, “Nope!”

Joyce didn’t even react when it happened, or was at least too surprised to. While it sunk in her head Emily just refused a simple gesture to have her hair dried, Emily’d done something so out of left field to the point where she quite literally ran for it. Darting to the exit, she swung the door open, still in her towel and slipped into the hallway. Joyce could hear the rapid thumping of her feet across the floor. Wordlessly, with a cocked eyebrow, she clicked off the dryer and poked her head out.

“Emmy? What’re you…?” Poking her head outside the doorway, she noticed the sudden draft as the apartment wasn’t nearly as heated as the bathroom. She slightly shivered peering down the hall. She could see into the far end of the living room where Emily was, positioning herself behind the couch as she stared back with eyes of mischief. Only then did it finally click for Joyce.

“Ohh?” with an amused laugh hidden in her taunting voice, Joyce looked to the girl who seemed to be troubled with keeping down a laugh herself. “Emmy? You know I’m supposed to finish dressing you before you leave? Running around like that is going to get you hurt!”

“Not true!” Emily countered, balling her fists into the edge of the couch as she crouched in front of it as her pearly whites flashed themselves.. “I’m wearing a towel!”

Joyce excitedly paced her own mental steps; pleasantly surprised by the sudden naughtiness in her charge. “Maybe, but we both know that you’re not wearing your diaper.” Emily’s laugh slightly stuttered, and she blushed, but she still seemed adamant. “Emmy,” taking a small breath, she stood fully in the hallway. “I’m going to give you to the count of three, and by then your tooshie better be back in this bathroom. You’re going to get the apartment covered in water!”

It was a real issue, but Emily knew how to distinguish between Joyce and Mommy. The threat seemed real enough, but so did the desire to cause a little havoc. She didn’t know why, but there was something about chaos that suddenly tempted her. The only reason she kept it going was that Joyce seemed to be enjoying it too.

“One,” sternly, Joyce tapped her foot. Emily hadn’t moved an inch.

“Two.” She was really going through with this? Joyce’s heart was in full swing.

Joyce opened her mouth for the final call, until Emily spoke.

“Wait!” Emily suddenly blurted, and her face shifted to one of remorse. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have left...”

“Are you ready to apologize?” And so the thrill had come to an end…

Emily slowly walked around the couch, and Joyce could already see a few drops of water trickle down her legs and onto the floor. Thank goodness the floors weren’t carpet…

Joyce kept her hands around her hips, doing her best to impersonate a scolding mother, and Emily had just reached the entrance to the hallway.

“Just kidding!”

Joyce simply blinked yet again, when from Emily’s perspective she pulled a sharp left and scurried off to the kitchen, past the shoe area by the door.

Out of sight, Joyce held a hand over her mouth as she silently laughed and giggled. Apparently her little princess had become a bit of a trickster, and she was loving every second of it.

Back to her stern self, she called, “Three! That’s it missy, you had your chance!” She followed the trail of giggles and water into the kitchen, which sure enough harbored the runaway toddler.

“Last chance,” Joyce warned, already looking ready for a chase. She held her arms open, equally meant for receiving a willing participant, or a rebellious runaway.

Emily as best as she could to keep the tension high and the atmosphere bubbly, regarded Joyce’s sweet embrace as certain death, and was determined to do anything she could to avoid it.

Joyce started with a calm, yet brisk walk around the left side of the island to where Emily was, and Emily in response already made an even faster motion to the right. The advanced moves were already in play though, because Joyce even faster pivoted on her heel to swap directions. She near-leaped around the side, and Emily’s reaction was just soon enough to space her a foot away from Joyce’s reach. The sudden surprise and narrow victory caused her to squeal, and at Joyce’s failed attempt, Emily stuck out her tongue in a teasing reaction.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it now…!” Joyce quickly abandoned her feints and went for a much more direct approach, and for Emily to counteract the disadvantage she had in stride, she worked twice as hard to move her legs. The whole way she needed to hike up her towel to keep her range of motion free, but in the process the towel on her head slipped off and her damp hair flowed freely.

They did two close laps around the island, and then the table, which nearly once again spelt Emily’s defeat. She was breathing fast as the adrenaline worked through her veins, and even though Joyce was much more composed, and obviously less tired, she looked to be working a small sweat up herself. And even though she still fully intended to maintain the chase, Emily started to wonder in the back of her head, what would Joyce do once she caught her? Suddenly she didn’t like thinking about the consequences so much… She went back to focusing on the fun of the process.

“Never gonna catch me!” Emily cheered as she made a beeline back into the hallway, and Joyce followed right behind.

Joyce knew she would catch her, of course, which is why she prolonged the chase so she could think of an appropriate punishment. Nothing actually bad, but something to ‘punish’ her for being ‘naughty.’ Did she have a stool for the corner? Maybe an earlier bedtime? The last one would be certainly severe… Emmy probably wouldn’t appreciate that one… Emily too…

As Joyce followed her down the hall, she noticed the wet trail they were on since their entrance. It was all fun and games, but Joyce called, “Careful! Don’t slip on the-” It was too late, because with each step Emily suddenly became much more shaky as her center of balance wobbled and collapse, tumbling forward and hitting her face against the backside of the couch. As friction left the building, so did her feet, rising into the air along with the rest of her body as it hit the floor. She must have hit a slight stud on the sofa, because there was a bit of a sound to it upon the collision.

“Emily!” Gasping, Joyce hurried with caution over to the girl, who was already collecting herself. The thrill and fun they were having quickly drained as Emily pushed herself up from her position, and Joyce was already there helping her.

Joyce didn’t know how to react, whether as a mother or a lover. She carefully looked Emily’s face over, likely still red from the heated bathroom. Emily looked a bit uncomfortable though, and she was, considering she just hit a couch face first. There looked to be no lasting damage, but it really did hurt. She clutched her nose as her eyes became teary from the stinging and pain.

“Emily? Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” She held Emily close and she continued to inspect, meanwhile Emily started to sob. Joyce knew the nose was an area of concern, but was otherwise relieved to see nowhere else looked bad.  “Can I see your nose, sweetheart?” She resorted to the much more cushy language to be all the more comforting.

Emily had been through worse, but that didn’t meant this was any less bad. She carefully exposed her nose for Joyce to take a look.

It definitely looked a little bit redder, but thankfully nothing lasting.

“It’s alright, you’re okay. Just a few boo-boos, huh?” Joyce comforted, whilst Emily still tried to brace the lingering effects of the fall. Why was she running around in the first place? Didn’t she know how stupid of an idea that was to begin with? Her adult mindset was already back and waiting to scold her. Meanwhile, the very person who warned her not to do what she did was nurse her.

“I’m sorry...” Emily tearily mumbled as she leaned into Joyce.

“Well, I’m not going to say I told you so, but I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh?”

Emily meekly nodded, just beginning to feel the throbbing pain die down.

“Still, that wasn’t like you? What happened to being my good girl?”

“I don’t know...” she rubbed her eyes, slowly standing up with Joyce. “I thought it would be fun...”

“There’s much safer ways to have fun, silly.” She patted her head. Joyce had nearly broke into her own hysterics had Emily seriously been injured. It genuinely scared her to think of what else could’ve happened if they got a bit too careless. They could consider themselves lucky on this one…

“No more leaving the bathroom unless I say so, okay?”

Once again, she agreed.

A wet and cool kiss planted itself on Emily’s nose.

“Pain, pain, go a-way! Come a-gain a-nother day!” With swirls and twists of her two index fingers, she finished the small ritual with imitated fireworks using her hands.

“Better?”

Emily nodded her head, smiling.


“Lots.”

“Good. Once you’re all dried up, we’ll get you in some nice and soft jammies, then you can help me clean up the little mess you made.” her voice nudged to the small puddles of water.

Emily slightly giggled, knowing the punishment was well-deserved.

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I honestly started grinning like an idiot when Emily decided to make a run for it ? probably one of my favorite scenes so far.

Also it was nice to get a little extra background on Joyce, to be honest for most of the story her character has been pretty "Super Mommy"-ish with no real discernible character flaws super rich, super pretty, super caring, super cook; all good things but not giving any real color to her character, there's no such thing as a perfect person after all and Joyce was pretty close. Now with this last chapter where we see what looks like despite all her super human qualities, that she actually has some problems of her own to deal with, basically what I'm getting at is she feels a little more relatable to us human beings now. ?

Awesome update as always and can't wait for more!

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 I love the fact that you are giving us some background info on Joyce; as Foofy said she has thus far come across as a superwoman. But I have to admit that I'm confused: as I read it, I thought the long scene with Amy had to be a flashback: the idea that Joyce was lonely, the notion that she wouldn't cook because cooking for one was no fun, even the fact that the conversation was with Amy, who knows about Emily through making the clothes. But when it came time to end what I was sure was a scene taking place in the past, it just slipped into the present, from an empty apartment where nothing is ever used and nothing is ever moved directly into bed with Emily. 

I'm missing something, I'm sure. I read it twice but still can't make it make sense to me. I'm feeling pretty dense right about now.

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I agree with foofybabykitten and kerry.

It was great to get some more insight into the person Joyce. What kind of a person is she really deep inside?

Still it doesn't answer why did she help Emily in the first place. Why does she love Emily the way she does. Why does she have this need to baby Emily, for Emily to be her little Princess. I hope we get the answers someday as the story unfolds.

the "runaway toddler" part was the most funny and entertaining piece of writing ??❤️

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    Beautiful, just beautiful. I love seeing the interaction and humanity between Emmy/Emily and Mommy/Joyce. I wonder 2hat will happen when her parents show up?

    I look forward to reading your story, and I'm glad you are still sharing your talented art with us here

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11 hours ago, foofybabykitten said:

I honestly started grinning like an idiot when Emily decided to make a run for it ? probably one of my favorite scenes so far.

Also it was nice to get a little extra background on Joyce, to be honest for most of the story her character has been pretty "Super Mommy"-ish with no real discernible character flaws super rich, super pretty, super caring, super cook; all good things but not giving any real color to her character, there's no such thing as a perfect person after all and Joyce was pretty close. Now with this last chapter where we see what looks like despite all her super human qualities, that she actually has some problems of her own to deal with, basically what I'm getting at is she feels a little more relatable to us human beings now. ?

Awesome update as always and can't wait for more!

Heyo! Thanks for mentioning that point, and I agree with you that Joyce by now needed a little bit more to her character. I definitely consider this a story with two protagonists, even if on the surface it seems like the most is happening to Emily. How the pair develops is what's most important to me, and I wanted to open this chapter with something that's almost like a life without Emily, or a time before she came into the picture. Since the call with her mother about accidentally revealing Emily, it's been made clear Joyce has her own insecurities and can also see she's definitely projecting her best self almost at all times. That's definitely who she is as a person, at least around Emily, but she definitely has her own issues as well. And as you said, I wanted to try and make her seem a little bit more relatable, at least in the emotional sense. Thanks a ton for commenting!

8 hours ago, kerry said:

 I love the fact that you are giving us some background info on Joyce; as Foofy said she has thus far come across as a superwoman. But I have to admit that I'm confused: as I read it, I thought the long scene with Amy had to be a flashback: the idea that Joyce was lonely, the notion that she wouldn't cook because cooking for one was no fun, even the fact that the conversation was with Amy, who knows about Emily through making the clothes. But when it came time to end what I was sure was a scene taking place in the past, it just slipped into the present, from an empty apartment where nothing is ever used and nothing is ever moved directly into bed with Emily. 

I'm missing something, I'm sure. I read it twice but still can't make it make sense to me. I'm feeling pretty dense right about now.

No, you're not missing anything, trust me. I'm the one who missed a line break, separating the memory from the present. My bad! ? Sometimes I can be moving a bit too fast with these postings, and here I am paying the price. Sorry about that. Just to clarify, Emily isn't in the flashback at any point. It ends when Joyce is laying in the bed. I've added the break to make that explicitly clear now, which is what I should have done before. Thanks for catching my mistake!

3 hours ago, Little_Mouse said:

I agree with foofybabykitten and kerry.

It was great to get some more insight into the person Joyce. What kind of a person is she really deep inside?

Still it doesn't answer why did she help Emily in the first place. Why does she love Emily the way she does. Why does she have this need to baby Emily, for Emily to be her little Princess. I hope we get the answers someday as the story unfolds.

the "runaway toddler" part was the most funny and entertaining piece of writing ??❤️

Thanks for commenting! As for your questions about Joyce...well, there will likely be a few more flashbacks down the road, but there's already a decent amount to infer right now I would say. Given the way Joyce felt from the flashback, we know that she is indeed lonely but still craves for social interaction and eventually a relationship. She alludes to it when talking about how she hoped Amy's advice could reach her, that she wanted the type of relationship she has now: mommy and her baby. As for where that desire came from in the first place? I'm not sure if there will be a concrete answer, but I might leave a breadcrumb trail as the story continues. Also, thanks for the bit about the "runaway toddler." That one came from a spur of the moment. I plan to add some more kiddish and playful scenes like that in the future. Glad you're enjoying!

3 hours ago, Jayme said:

    Beautiful, just beautiful. I love seeing the interaction and humanity between Emmy/Emily and Mommy/Joyce. I wonder 2hat will happen when her parents show up?

    I look forward to reading your story, and I'm glad you are still sharing your talented art with us here

Dun dunn dunnn! Her parents! An impending doom! Or is it? Her parents will be here sooner than you think, but until they are, all we can do is speculate... Though, there might be a little chaos involved... Happy to hear you're enjoying it, and thanks for commenting! It means a ton!

1 hour ago, Sarah Penguin said:

:)

? Thanks for commenting!

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On 4/18/2019 at 1:08 PM, Crinkleybutt said:

Talk about an AWESOME update!!

Happy to hear! Hope you enjoy the next one too! Please keep the feedback coming!


19 - One Last Gift

“Why aren’t you getting ready for bed, too?” Emily always felt weird about not being dressed the same as everyone else. It felt like she was unprepared for something, and she hated the idea of being different.

“Because,” Joyce patted Emily down, making sure the diaper was nice and snug under the sleeper, “I still need to clean up a bit tonight so it’s easier in the morning.” Emily wasn’t pleased with the answer, but she was focusing heavily on the soft fleece she was encased in. It was the perfect combination; a heated body from a hot bath being embraced by cool clothing into an even chillier apartment. She loved the feeling, but she still felt the desire to be dressed like Joyce. It really did drive the point home that she was a kid being sent off to bed early…

“But I can help though.” Volunteering herself, and not waiting for an answer, Emily started walking to the kitchen. Of course she stopped though, as a hand had taken hold of her wrist. Sheepishly, she turned back to the tutting Joyce.

“Didn’t we just get finished kissing your last boo-boo?”

“...Yeah, but...” As if the answer were there, Emily’s eyes scanned the floor.

“You already helped me clean up the water, and you apologized. Everything is forgiven.”

“Then why do I have to go to sleep early? I wanna go to bed when you do.”

“It’s not a punishment, hon, and why are you so hung up on this? It’s never stopped you from turning in early before?” As if the prophecy were inevitable, Emily would always meet her maker on the couch late at night. A princess carry to bed would ensue, then Joyce would finish up her own nightly routine.

“You know what I mean.” Emily teasingly grumbled.

Joyce moved closer to Emily, and with both hands grabbed the bundle of fabric attached to the sleeper behind her neck. It was drawn up and over her head, clearly a hood, only that two fluffy, triangular ears sprouted from it. Joyce’s eyes practically sparkled as she admired the sight, and even Emily’s feigned grumpiness did nothing to affect it.

“So adorable...”

Not really noticing the hood to begin with, Emily couldn’t feel any extra weight, but she knew something was on the hood. Aimless and without a real destination in mind, her hands traced the surface of it, then found the items which has Joyce gushing so much.

“You gave me cat ears?” Emily exclaimed, blushing as she said so.

“No, Amy did,” Joyce corrected, but seemed no less happy. “And she did a wonderful job!” She knew what it’d look like, but actually seeing it on Emily took it to a whole other level! The outfit sat on her body perfectly, and seeing the slight bulge from her crotch, and admiring how the fabric stretched over the diaper, the V-cut in her legs being more of a U, just to accommodate the kind of wearer that needed a little extra protection. The way it all teased the infancy trapped inside of it was nearly too much for Joyce to handle. If she had hugged Emily right then and there, she would probably suffer from sensory overload!

“Well...” Emily spoke as she mindlessly bent the corners of the ears, “The stuff she’s made so far feels nice...”

“Isn’t it?” Joyce enthusiastically agreed. “And they all make you look ten times more adorable!”

The last comment had Emily a bit more flustered, so she tried to focus more on the craftsmanship rather than the appearance.

“We’ll need to thank her properly, though.”

Emily nodded her head in silent agreement. She’d never had someone go to such lengths for her, apart from Joyce, of course. That being said, Joyce need only throw money at a problem to find a solution. Well, not completely. Joyce was a hard worker of course, and everything thus far was absolute proof of that, but Amy in her own regard was fearsome as well. Everything she had done was by hand and of pure imagination. Emily’s clothes were the very essence of her thoughts. It was once more the idea of ownership by another person, and it reinforced the idea of cushiness.

“And you know, I think I know a great way we can do that.”

“How?” Emily was all ears to express her gratitude, considering she had four of them now.

“She really wanted to see how these fit you, you know?”

Emily could feel herself becoming a ghost as she pieced the lead-in to Joyce’s hint.

“You mean I have to wear these in front of her?” The panic was obvious.

Joyce wanted to try and calm her nerves, but she didn’t right away. “No, you don’t have to, but I think Amy would really appreciate it.”

“How come, though?” The idea of revealing herself to anyone else was an immediate turnoff. She could already feel the mood turning sour.

“Whenever you do something for someone else, or make something, don’t you want to know what they think?”

“I...I guess.” When was the last time she made something for someone though?

“Remember this morning? When you colored that picture for me?”

Oh, right.

Emily nodded her head, feeling no need for further explanation. Even she couldn’t deny the silly pride she felt over such a simple feat. Still, it made Joyce beyond happy, and that’s what Emily yearned for… So, maybe Amy was hoping for the same sort of thing?

“But...” Even with that in mind, it still didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow. “But it’s embarrassing!”

“Didn’t I already tell you there’s nothing to feel ashamed about?” She stroked Emily’s cheek. “Besides...” Joyce suddenly seemed a bit more remorseful. “She does already know about this...” Her face gave no real indication of anything, but Emily knew it was the whole dynamic she was referring to. “The last thing is for her to see it with her own eyes?” Partly, considering she already knew what the clothes looked like, and what she was supposed to account for… Joyce’s eyes observed the diaper bulge for a few moments.

Emily still didn’t answer, and she really didn’t want to right now. She wanted to show Amy her appreciation, but she didn’t want to betray her own privacy either. Even a forceful push by Joyce seemed more scary than exciting right now.

“All I want you to do for now is think about it, okay?” Joyce planted a kiss on her forehead. “Whatever your answer might be, we won’t mention it at least until my parents are gone.”

“Mhm...” Emily spoke as her mind drifted, unfortunately back to the topic of sleep. Thankfully it was down a different avenue though. “Wait, where are your parents gonna be sleeping tomorrow?”

“In the guest room,” Joyce answered simply.

“Guest room? Isn’t that where I sleep?” Of course it wouldn’t happen, but Emily couldn’t help but imagine herself sharing a bed with two other people…

“Sorry, they’ll need to borrow it for a couple nights?”

“That’s fine. The couch is comfy anyways,” Emily chipperly giggled, secretly happy to have the massive cushions all to herself. Joyce’s chuckle though for some reason stopped Emily’s fantasies. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. You just go with the flow, huh?”

“I guess. I mean, it’s your house and your parents, after all.”

“Wrong. It’s our home,” wrapping an arm around Emily’s waist, she let a small meep escape her as she was pulled close. “Besides, you’re much too precious to be using the couch.”

“Huh? Where would I sleep, then?” Back in bed with the parents? Ugh? Why did she keep thinking that? She giggled to herself.

Joyce raised a brow.

“With me, of course?”

“...Huh?”

They stared at each other, equally confused as the other. Something snapped though, as Emily blushed harder and harder.

“S-sleep with you? You mean in your bed?” Sharing a bed with Joyce? The more she thought about it, it made sense, but, but was she really going to? Why not skip the nerves and die from anxiety already? She hadn’t once considered the possibility of sleeping with her, but that didn’t mean it was a bad thing...

“Well duh, silly.” The way she treated it so nonchalantly had Emily feeling giddy. It was yet another factor that felt seemingly out of her control, as her fate was dealt by a dealer who moved to the beat of their own drum. She was a pebble caught in the tide, hopeless to fight against it.

“But I really don’t mind the couch?”

“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Joyce didn’t look offended, but that didn’t make Emily worry any less.

“No!” Emily suddenly blurted, nearly covering her mouth from the sheer shock over her own reaction. “N-no, I just mean, I didn’t want to impose...”

Joyce’s mouth slightly trembled, then grew into a smirk as she laughed, further unsettling Emily as she embarrassed herself.

“Impose? C’mere, you...” A tight squeeze refreshed the mood, and Emily felt somewhat at peace again. Smiling contently, Joyce briefly patted Emily’s bottom. “Besides, doesn’t it make sense that we would share a bed by now? We are dating, after all.”

“I guess so…” It certainly felt like Joyce was milking that title for all it was worth… Not that Emily minded, yet it was a thrilling observation. The reminder of girlfriend and girlfriend though made Emily’s heart flutter as she squeezed Joyce back.

“Oh! I almost forgot one last thing,” Joyce spaced themselves a little bit for a better look at each other. She slightly bent her knees to get closer to eye level.

“What is it?”

“Do you want milk or juice for bed?”

Emily’s curious look sunk to a frown, and Joyce grinned, expecting a reaction such as that.

“You know, for a little kitty that loves her naps, you really don’t like being told to go to sleep?”

“Then you go to sleep, too!” It wasn’t the act of going to sleep, but the issue of being the only one doing it. “I feel like I’m missing out if I’m the only one...”

“Trust me, you don’t miss much. Maybe a party, some clubbing, robbing a bank, and a few movies,” Joyce teased, “but other than that I’m not far behind you.”

“Then why can’t I go to sleep when you do?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that.” The answer felt awfully fitting for a mommy figure, and it annoyed Emily to no end. It was a real tradeoff to the cuddles and playing all day. It was her first time in this role being told so, but she knew for a fact she hated bedtime…

“And why doesn’t it?” Emily countered, crossing her arms.

“Because Mommy says so.”

Almost immediately Emily’s arms slumped to her sides, clearly looking inconvenienced by the law that’d just been imposed. She saw no end in sight that involved her victory, and they were most definitely in the end game by now. Her personal reign was the setting sun, while Joyce’s powers transcended time itself, reaching to the far ends of the Earth, and as deep as its core.

“It’s not fair,” Emily pouted. And to be honest, it was partly genuine.

“You’re making it very hard to give you your last treat, you know?”

“Is it me getting to stay up later?”

“So you don’t want it?”

Actions speaking louder than words, with a huff and a puff, Emily sulkily marched off to the nursery while Joyce kept down a laugh the whole way.

“Come on pouty pants, milk or juice?”

“I’m not pouting, though!” She probably was, but the small voice inside of her was telling her to be rebellious right now, and she liked the idea. The helpless struggle seemed entertaining for some reason.

Joyce gave her the ‘Oh, really?’ kind of look.

The irrational part of her was longing for Pip now. At least then it’d be two against one. “...Milk, please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With bare feet on the much softer floor, Emily briefly meandered around the room until she laid eyes on the giant teddy bear. Mr. Bear, the one that failed to save her from the tickle attacks… Emily eyed him like a comrade that’d betrayed her in the war. Still, she was clearly the bigger person, willing the bury the hatchet as she came to her knees and fell on him with a soft and squishy hug. No real reason compelled her to do it, but she just felt like it. Her entire universe right now was surrounded in soft and loving things, and all she had to do was throw herself in a random direction, and comfort would follow.

A pressure in her bladder became an issue though, as her eyes opened to the unpleasant feel of its knocking. Trying her best to brace herself, Mr. Bear felt the brunt of Emily’s physical frustrations as she held onto something while she squeezed it out. The small stream came, and she felt the warmth in her pants, though she wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Thankfully it wasn’t enough for her to cry over anymore, and she tried focusing on the hugs again.

.
..

“Emmy? Sweetie? You awake?”

With a sudden breath, Emily opened her eyes and could feel the slight nudges to her shoulder. Turning her head, she could see it was Joyce who had a bottle in hand. Did she...did she doze off? Caught red-handed doing the exact thing she said she didn’t want to do obviously made Emily angry with herself. Lazing about after a nice bath always did that to her, especially if she didn’t manage to fall asleep in the bath to begin with.

With no real part of her body in mind, she muttered inside her head, traitor

Instead of teasing her for it though, Joyce smiled warmly as she helped her up.

“So I see you and Mr. Bear were catching up, huh?”

Interpreting it as simply lounging, Emily nodded her head.

“Well, Mr. Bear seems like he’s ready for beddy-bye too.,” Joyce assuredly noted, looking over to the inanimate, giant stuffed animal.

“No, he’s still wide awake, actually,” Emily randomly retorted, suddenly feeling the need to flex her imaginary doctorate in bear whispering.

“Is that what he said?” As if to confirm her suspicions, Joyce leaned her ear closer to the bears nose, nodding her head occasionally.

“Mhmm….uh-huh. Is that so?” With every response to the imaginary speech she nodded and murmured assurances. Joyce turned back to Emily. “Mr. Bear said that even if he is wide awake, he knows it’s important to sleep early when you have a big day tomorrow.”

Emily wanted to say she misheard him, but knew what the ultimate endgame would be. Joyce was an expert at speaking stuffed bear, after all…

“Mr. Bear said I shouldn’t have to go to sleep until Mommy does...” Emily mumbled as Joyce led her over to the crib.

“I told you,” Joyce laughed as the repetition kept coming around and around. “I’m only going to be up a little longer! And oh, what’s that Mr. Bear?” She leaned back in for another listen. For a second Emily almost got closer to, but then she remembered distance wouldn’t help her hear something that didn’t actually speak… “Mr. Bear also said that he’s gonna make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight, and he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.”

Once a traitor, always a traitor… Sleep with one eye open, Mr. Bear. She turned back to Joyce.

The crib side came down, and Emily was helped inside. Given her bottle of milk, the final nail in the coffin was when the side came back up.

“Did you have a good birthday, my princess?”

Gleefully, Emily nodded her head.

“It’s been the best birthday in a long time,” Emily gave a genuine smile, briefly forgetting how she’d been cheated out of a later bedtime. After all, she had the one woman that made all those silly frustrations possible to begin with. “I mean it, Joyce, thank you.”

Standing up so the bars wouldn’t be so much of a hurdle, the two hugged each other one last time, and then Emily planted herself on the mattress, allowing the blankets to be tucked in over her.

Without a word, Joyce walked away from the crib and to the exit. Emily turned to her side, clutching the bottle. Curiously, she gave it a suck, rewarded by the monumental efforts of her jaw with a small spurt of liquid. The lights began to dim, and just before it was complete darkness, they stopped.

Emily slowly breathed as she soaked in the quiet atmosphere, then was disturbed by the sound of moving in the nursery. Turning her head and rolling over, she was surprised to find Joyce was still in here.

“Jo-Mommy, what are you doing?”

Sliding over a rocking chair, which Emily was equally as surprised to have never noticed to begin with, Joyce sat herself beside the crib. “I promised you a treat, didn’t I? You always seem to need some convincing to go to sleep, anyways.”

Emily watched through the bars as Joyce moved to the closet, walking inside and coming out with something in her hands. It was large and rectangular, and had a simple illustration on the front. Emily could just read the title, as she looked at a cartoonish fox standing on its hind legs wave to the reader with a paw.

“Fennis goes to the Fair”

“Fennis goes to the Fair? Is that a storybook?”

Joyce nodded her head, already opening to the first page. “I know a good story can always put a good girl to sleep.”

“I’m not a good girl, though?” Emily joked, obviously trying to tear down Joyce’s logic for no good reason.

“For any baby that tries to say they’re not sleepy, then,” Joyce without taking her eyes from the page snarkily corrected herself, whilst Emily giggled.

Joyce reached her hand through the bars and ruffled Emily’s hair while she laid on her side, sinking into the pillow and mattress. She cleared her throat and started.

“There once was a big, old forest in a big, old valley in a far, far away place.” She went to speak the next line, then Emily stopped her.

“Wait! But where is it, though?”

“Where is what?”

“The valley?”

“Weren’t you listening? It’s in a far away place.”

“Relative to us, though?”

Joyce looked at her with judging eyes, as Emily snickered over getting the exact reaction she wanted.

“In a far, far away place, approximately 1,673.42 miles from Emmy’s crib located in the corner of her nursery, at least thirty floors off the ground, inside her nice big apartment.” She looked over to the girl trying to choke down a giggle fit. “Better?” Happily pleased, Emily nodded her head.

“And in that forest was a small burrow, sitting next to all the homes of every other furry friend and creature. But who lived in the burrow? Mr. James the jaybird lived in the tree, Sammy the snake lived in the log, Rigby the rabbit slept in the wild vegetable garden, and Felix the frog slept in the swamp? So who was it? Why, it was Ferris the Fox, of course!”

Although a simple narrative, Emily listened intently to the sound of Joyce’s voice. The facial expressions she used to match the tones of question, surprise, delight, and simplicity were all so dynamic in their range that Emily barely minded that there might’ve been illustrations she was missing out on. She could already see it in her head; the array of tiny holes throughout the animal community, sealed off by their own specialty made doors, and some even with their own carved out windows. Since when did animals need windows or doors, though? Whatever, Emily didn’t care enough to question.

“Ferris was all curled up in his bed, slumbering away since late last night.”

“Did he go to a party?” Emily interrupted.

“Maybe? Or maybe he just had a long day at work? Anyways, Ferris slept and slept, but with a start opened his eyes big and wide, shouting at the top of his lungs,” then in a nasally voice turned up an extra octave, Joyce imitated the fox’s shout, “Today’s the day! The fair is here! The fair is here!” Her imaginative voice had Emily laughing once again.

“That’s not how a fox is supposed to sound!”

“Oh? And you do know how they’re supposed to?”

“No, but they probably don’t sound like that.”

“Are you going to keep interrupting?”

Emily between her giggles tried to apologize, and Joyce equally as happy herself continued. In a regular voice she read on. “Ferris bounced from one end of his bed and to the other, excited to have a fun day at the fair. It only came once a year, and Ferris was looking forward to everything he would do there. The fair travelled far and wide and came from the far, far away ocean. There were games, rides, food, and much more. He was especially excited for all the fish he would get to eat.” Passively, both thought to themselves, do foxes even eat fish? Then again, if there was a line to be drawn, why did the talking fox get behind it? “Rushing to get the morning started, he said while brushing his teeth, ‘I can’t wait to eat lots of candy, ride the rollercoaster and play lots of games and win lots of prizes!’”

“Wait!”

Joyce looked over to her, mildly annoyed. As annoyed as a mommy could be with her baby.

“Could you...could you go back to doing the voice?” Emily seemed a bit more sheepish this time.

“Not another peep, understood?”

Emily nodded her head.

Back to the nasally voice, Joyce repeated Ferris’ line again. Emily gleefully listened, happy to hear the voice she’d just criticized return.

The simple story went on like so, and Joyce further introduced a range of dynamic voices as more and more characters were introduced. She didn’t openly say it, but James the jaybird was her favorite voice. The deep voice she used for it reminded her of how Joyce described her dad: ‘booming’. Again, it was simple, but that made Emily no less engaged as she heard the tale. She couldn’t remember a time when she was read to like this. Maybe decades ago, but not really ever until now. There was something vibrant and wonderful that Joyce added to it by hearing it from her mouth; something that made Emily feel so fuzzy on the inside, as if to make the story digestible for someone as small as her it had to be expressed in silly voices and sounds.

The whole way Emily suckled on the bottle, watching Joyce’s basic, yet hypnotic movements as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Every now and then Emily would find herself forgetting what happened in the story, simply because she was dozing off. How long was this story, anyways? As if it mattered. She didn’t bother asking for a repeat, namely because she’d already thrown a wrench at the gears enough and knew she’d probably doze off again in the middle of a recap.

Between the page turns, Joyce would look over to Emily, clearly seeing how she was practically running on fumes by the time of the climax. Not that it was anything too exciting, considering the title pretty much spoke for itself. There was as much character depth as you’d expect from a daycare bestseller, and the conflict wasn’t exactly layered either. No real twists, just a simple experience. That didn’t change it was an easy and enjoyable read though.

Not much longer after that, Emily was sound asleep, yet Joyce pressed on with the story. With only a little bit left, she saw the story to the end.

“And after Ferris hung up his brand new fish, and set aside the set of pet oysters he won, he slipped into his own bed, thinking what a wonderful day he’d had. And as the moon started to rise, Ferris started to snore, dreaming about next time when the fair would come, and all the fun things he would do next year.” Marking the end with the close of the book, Joyce looked at the sweetly sleeping girl.

“Goodnight, my princess...” In a hushed voice, Joyce made her final coos as she finally turned off the light, closing the door just slightly behind her. She looked at the time on her phone disappointingly. She knew if she wanted to make some real headway tonight, she’d probably be sleeping in a little later tomorrow… She’d definitely be up before Emily though. Knowing her, that was practically a given. Everything that needed to go into the nursery would have to wait until tomorrow, considering a certain someone was currently sleeping inside of it. She could at least group everything by the door in the meantime. Rolling up her sleeves, she set out to work.


It was strange to be back in panties again, even if she didn’t want to admit it. How could it not be strange? Several inches of thickness and absorbency were suddenly gone, and you also suddenly knew what it was like to press your thighs together again. Panties had their unique comforts as well, though. As well. She hated to phrase it like that, because that meant she was admitting to some benefits in wearing diapers, which unfortunately wasn’t totally false...

Right now though, she probably did look like a kid that just got her toilet license, considering she was lifting the hem of her sundress right now to see how they looked. No more cartoon characters, and definitely no tapes to keep them attached to her waist. Simple, mature colors and designs; something she was much more familiar with.

“You know you shouldn’t be doing that around anyone else other than me, right?” Still holding it up, she looked over to Joyce who was currently carrying a small box of baby items. Putting two and two together a little too late, Emily finally let go of her dress and it fell back into place with a blush.

“I was just looking, that’s all...”

“I can imagine it feels a little weird after going for more than 24 hours in diapers. How do you feel?”

“Fine, I guess.” How else was she supposed to feel? Good? Bad? She didn’t feel anything. It was just another day, and another outfit at this point.

“By the way, why do I have to wear a dress?” Emily looked down at herself, and then into the nursery mirror a tad bit nervously. “Doesn’t it make me look a little immature?”

Joyce paused behind her in front of the mirror, giving the sight a much more satisfied look. “No one said you had to wear it, you know?”

“Then why did you pick it out for me?” Emily slightly swung her hips, watching the loose ends swish to her sways.

“Because I did? In the end, you’re the one who put it on!”

“Fine! I’ll go put some jeans and a shirt on, then,” with exaggerated marches, something a diaper didn’t allow her the liberty of, she walked to what would be her room for only a few more hours.

“But,” Joyce’s sudden words halted Emily. “I think looking cute for my parents would do for a really good first impression? Remember? My dad always had a soft spot for me! Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he has a soft spot for cute things in general...”

An obvious escape from her true feelings, Emily excused herself with a sharp right down the hall, avoiding the room which would let her reclaim maturity, as well as the nursery that would mean admitting a lack thereof. “...I’ll go get the highchair.”

Joyce silently giggled, knowing full well what’d just happened. Clearly she liked the dress, and Joyce did too, but only one of them was brave enough to admit it. “Just grab the tray, okay?” Joyce called down the hall. “I’ll get the heavier part!”

Unfortunately it wasn’t an opportunity for Emily to figure out how the tray unlocked because it’d already been done for her. Something told her that later down the line it would be one of her final regrets. Already she’d been toyed with mercilessly. The tickles and misfire with the pancake already were giving her PTSD. She lifted the white, plastic tray and carried it by her side down the hall.

“Just set it down in the closet against the wall. There’s plenty of space in there.” The last bit came off as both a positive and a negative. There was the perk of being able to house more baby items, but that also meant a lack of clothes in Emmy’s wardrobe. Maybe there would be time to visit Amy this week…

The heavier part came next, both by the help of Joyce and Emily, proving it to be an effective team effort as they disassembled as much as they could to fit it through the door frame.

“Done and done!” Joyce clasped her hands as she briefly admired their handiwork, closing the nursery’s closet, and finally the nursery itself. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want before I lock up?”

“Actually, you’re right! I’m gonna need a few diapers, at least,” Emily said with joking exaggeration.

Joyce looked at her for a moment, then was already re-opening the door.

“Wait, wait!”

She looked back.

“I was...kidding...”

“I figured you were,” Joyce laughed, and Emily looked at her menacingly.

“...Meanie.”

“You know it’s because I love you, though!” Joyce leaned in for a kiss on her forehead, which Emily did accept, but then finally felt a sense of relief once she heard the twist of the key, and knew for sure that their secret was safe.

“Relieved?”

“Definitely,” Emily sighed. She looked around their immediate surroundings one last time, trying to find any sort of miniscule detail that might betray their efforts to cover up everything entirely. Thankfully Mr. Bear couldn’t cause any more havoc than he already had. He was trapped in a place where his screams would never reach the surface... Emily quickly shook the thought out of her head. Clearly her mindset was still in another place. Taking a note from the blank white door shrouding a rabbit hole of fantasy and fetish, she tried to leave the childishness by the entrance.

“It’ll be fun, okay? Tonight’s gonna be great, and so is the one after that, and then the next one too.”

“Are you gonna be able to get all that time off?”

“Maybe not all of it, but I can definitely finish things up a bit early at the office. Don’t miss me too much, now.”

Emily stuck her tongue out mockingly, and Joyce only laughed as they moved into the guest room.

“Alright, the final, final thing we need to do is move your clothes.” Joyce had already opened one of the drawers.

“Are you sure there’s enough space for me in your room?” Emily didn’t sound especially overconfident anymore. “What if my clothes don’t fit?”

“Trust me, they will. It forced me to toss a few things that I haven’t touched in years, anyways. Honestly, I don’t even know how some of it survived when I first moved here.” She took a moment to consider her personal mishaps, then doubled down on the task at hand.

Between the two of them, it only took a handful of trips with a handful of clothes between each of them. Since her visit to Jack’s, her wardrobe had returned to not only its original size, but also took on the addition of Joyce’s plentiful generosity, near doubling what she had. There was a fine line between what you could see was hers, and what was a gift from Joyce. All you needed to do was look at the info tags or the logos on some of the clothing. The price was certainly telling enough.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve never been in your room before?” Stepping inside for the first time, Emily was treated to the final room of the apartment she had yet to see.

“Well, it’s not much, but it’s mine I suppose.”

“Not much?” Emily silently muttered, taking in the wonderful sight. It was just about as big as the ‘guest room,’ if not bigger, and had a relatively similar setup. The theme in here was more along the lines of light grays accented by purples, especially evident in the comforter, and also in the blinds. Her room didn’t have a balcony, but instead made up for it in a small stretch of window reaching from the floor to the ceiling which covered the span of the bed. It allowed a breathtaking view out into the city and onto the street, and though it didn’t seem like much right now, it surely must have been magical at night.

She had her own closet, dresser, and although much smaller, still a personal bathroom. A tv was mounted to the wall on the opposite side of the room, and on either side of the bed was a nightstand. The bed was just as big as the one she’d been sleeping in, and there seemed to be a few more extra pillows to boot! Wait, of all things, why did that excite her?

“Think you’ll manage with me in here for a few nights?”

Emily responded by faceplanting into the bed. The give and slight bounce to her collision was naturally the only way you can truly test the worth of a mattress, and resoundingly satisfied, she said with a muffled voice, “Yes, I think this is acceptable!” She felt the remnants of last night on her cheek as it nuzzled into the comforter, brushing her hand across the cool material and feeling the slight fuzz of tiny, miniscule fibres sticking outwards.

“Well it’s not time for bed yet,” Joyce finished sorting both of their piles and was just about to pull Emily back up, though she managed herself. “A few more trips ought to do it.”

The pair went back and forth, and forth and back, only now Emily helped with the sorting rather than taking so much stock in Joyce’s bed. Along the way, she kept admiring all the smaller details of the room, slowly digesting what made Joyce into the person she was, or at least defined her character. From the walls, to the floor, though maybe those parts weren’t so telling… How she arranged her room and decorated her smaller bits was a bit more of a story. A stand was placed underneath the tv, providing some relief to the empty space that would’ve been there. Knick knacks decorated the top of it with a few photos of scenery, a strange, metallic sphere that seemed slightly bigger than Emily’s hand, and a couple of books neatly stacked on one another.

“Emily?”

“Huh?” She turned her head to Joyce and the dresser, noting there was still a small amount of clothes left.

“I think I may have lied about space… I guess I didn’t realize you had so many clothes.” She then looked at her judgingly. “Are you sure you don’t have a shopping problem?”

Emily’s eye nearly twitched. “Gee, I wonder who got me so many.”

“Obviously yourself,” Joyce with a ‘huff’ continued to play into the joke, which Emily found just as funny as slightly annoying. They both very well knew who was the reason for her massively expanded wardrobe, and the thought of trying to shift the credibility onto Emily was a huge no-no.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll need everything, right?” While Emily openly spoke, she did a slight twirl from heel to heel, pivoting from foot to foot as she neared the fullbody window closer and closer.

“No, I think what we have is plenty, too. I’ll just slip these into the nursery then.” It must have been a pile Emily threw together, because Joyce didn’t recognize it, and Emily admittedly gave up on folding by the end of it. A few shirts covered the lot of items, but considering where it was going it’s not like they needed to be tidied.

Just as Joyce was locking up the nursery for the last and final time, Emily drifted into the hall.

“And you’re positive they won’t find out?”

“Absolutely, whole-heartedly, one-hundred percentu...ally!” The sudden devolvement in her speech naturally had Emily shifting gears, far too busy to worry over things when there was stuff too funny not to smile over. And the reassurance was definitely needed, but it still didn’t feel like enough.

“Where are we gonna put the key though?” Emily started to look nervous again. “What if they ask about what’s inside the room?”

The much calmer and collected one then said, “We just tell them it’s meant for storage. It originally was, you know? I mean, it always worked on you?”

Stupidity then followed on Emily’s part, realizing that she was in fact practical enough to believe that. It probably was storage at one point, but Emily couldn’t say with confidence as to when it stopped being that. Regardless, even if it didn’t make sense, some part of her wanted to believe that Joyce’s parents wouldn’t be satisfied by such a simple answer. They’d crave details, asking, “Oh, but Joyce? How could it possibly be for just storage? Whatever could there be inside of it that you’d need to lock away? Why, if I didn’t know any better, this would clearly be the perfect setup for a nursery; obviously meant for Emily! It makes too much-” She nearly hit her head off the wall trying to drop the stupid notion. And why did she give their voices an accent inside her head? Such an oddball… Did her parents even have an accent? Probably as much as Joyce did, which was none, but then again, things like that tend to become watered down the further you fall from the tree.

A slow, pulsing beep could be heard from down the hall. Emily jumped, not because she was scared, but because she’d never heard that noise once before. Her heart started to beat uncomfortably, because even if she didn’t know what it meant, her body had a foreboding guess as to what it meant. Joyce looked more confused than anything, but that only lasted for a second when awkward surprise and confusion took its place.

“Well it’s a good thing we finished up early...” Joyce said, taking her turn to be relieved. She checked her phone then with a slightly urgent pace walked past Emily and down the hall. “Ugh, for once can’t my mom get a time right?”

If there was any room left for doubt, Joyce’s complaint was the final sign.

“Wait! You mean they’re outside right now?”

“We can’t say for sure, I mean, it may not even be them… But if I had to guess...” Emily followed her into the shoe area in front of the entrance, and could see her looking into a small console attached to the wall.

Joyce pressed her finger to a button and spoke clearly. “Charles? You’re a bit early, aren’t you?”

Emily could hear his voice play back through the intercom.

“I understand Ms. Summers, but I suppose their plane landed early. They’re waiting in the car right now. Should I send them up?”

“Landed early,” Joyce lightly mocked. “It’s like honesty’s the last thing on her mind...” Rolling her eyes, she pressed down on the button again. “You can send them up now, unless you feel like driving in a circle for a few hours?”

“I...can do that, if you wish?”

“No, no,” as if he could read her face through the one-way display, Joyce shook her head. “Sorry, just a bad joke. Thank you already for the time you’ve given me today on your day off. Please, just unload their bags, let them inside and send them up. Again, I can’t appreciate this enough.”

“No problem at all. Have a good weekend, Ms. Summers!”

“Thanks Charles, you too.”

Joyce finally turned from the console and moved over to Emily, suddenly hugging her by the waist.

“Not that I mind, but, why are you hugging me?”

“No reason,” she looked down at her and smiled. “Just felt like it.”

“Aren’t they here really early though?”

“Yes,” she said begrudgingly. “They are.”

“You don’t sound very happy to see them?”

“No! No, it’s not that,” she sighed. “I am happy. It’s just one of my mom’s habits, that’s all. To be honest I should have been expecting this. 1 o’clock in her world is probably landing at 11 and meandering for a few more. Clearly she didn’t feel like doing the second part...”

“Is being early a bad thing?”

“Being early is perfectly fine in my book, only when we can afford to lose that kind of time. If they showed up any earlier I probably wouldn’t have been joking when I said that to Charles.” Her hand brushed the outer part of her pants, feeling the slight bump that matched the outline of the key.

As the minutes ticked away, and the inevitable was finally arriving on their doorstep, Emily was feeling the need for a hug too. No matter how many times she told herself that there was no reason to be nervous, of course she’d drum up a thousand reasons that existed purely for shock factor.

A pair of faint, yet growing voices could be heard from the outside hall.

“Are you sure it’s this floor? I could have sworn he said the 27th.” They sounded headstrong in their own opinion, even if it was wrong. The kind of captain that’d go down with their ship.

“Hon, he said apartment 3702, not the 27th floor. Which one is it though?” The voice was deep, with the slightest tinge of age to it.

“Odds are on the right, even on the left. Just wait, we’re gonna knock on a complete stranger’s door! We should call Joyce and double check the number.”

“Something tells me she won’t be happy about how early we are...”

Meanwhile, Joyce give Emily a stare that said everything, as she walked over to the door, slowly turning the knob. Before the female voice could respond, Joyce stuck her head in the crack of the door, too small for Emily to see through as she kept her distance, well inside the apartment. She could see Joyce turn her head from left to right though.

“Honey, you’re right!” The male voice exclaimed. “There’s one of her neighbors! I told you we were being too loud!”

“What do you mean?” the voice shot back defensively. “Oh...” the heat in her voice seemed to tone down as if she were turning to a different speaker. Probably Joyce. “I’m very sorry about my husban… Joyce!” as if they’d just seen her now, they spoke in a delightful surprise.

“Hey mom, hey dad!” Joyce greeted them excitedly. “But in all seriousness, we probably should get inside before mom gets too loud...”

“What do you mean too loud? You should tell that to your father. That man has a set of chords on him that make a drum sound like a high-pitched squeal...” the funny banter started to die down as the voices came closer, and Emily could slowly see the door open, as two more figures were introduced. “Anyways, give me a hug, you! It’s been too long!”

Joyce’s hand fell off the door as she was suddenly taken in for a hug by someone other than Emily. Someone actually Joyce’s exact height. Just when her face was briefly over Joyce’s shoulder, Emily could see her faded, yet still clearly blonde hair and older face still a close neighbor to when it was once youthful. Her face looked incredibly similar to Joyce’s! Well, considering things genetically, it was actually the opposite, but it didn’t detract from how they certainly looked related. Emily was so busy seeing what her mom looked like, she didn’t even realize when she was looking back at Emily. Her eyes seemed to have a frightening sparkle in them, and Emily could already feel the woman’s desire to smother her. When they ended their hug, surprisingly, she didn’t pounce for Emily, thankfully, and instead waited for her husband, Joyce’s dad to have his turn.

If Emily thought Joyce and her mom were tall, she was sorely mistaken. Add half another head to the gap Emily already had with the two other women, and there would be Joyce’s dad. His shortly cut hair looked as if it were struggling between trying to be black or brown, as the pair had struck a compromise on simply really dark brown. Lighter hairs were checkered throughout, and the thin shade of facial hair wrapped around the lower end of his face looked salt and peppered too. From Emily’s perspective it looked as if Joyce had finally met her match in terms of height, but what did that say then about Emily’s predicament? Now she felt even more vertically challenged.

“How’ve you been, kiddo?”

“I’ve been good, dad!” She happily hugged him back. “How about you?”

“Meh, you know me. Same old same old.”

“Mom told me you’re still doing cooking events?”

“‘Course I am! Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I stopped being a chef!” Joyce chipperly agreed as they finally let each other go. His figure now in full view was as lean as a man his age could be. Though his metabolism was probably on its tail end of a healthy life well-lived, he certainly didn’t seem to take it for granted, minus a little bit of leniency for dad bod, of course. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, along with a pair of sizeable suitcases by his side.

Joyce glanced over to her mom, who looked to be ready to burst, and she knew exactly why. While Emily was still silent with her apprehensive observations, even Joyce’s dad gave her a glance and a smile, but he probably kept his true self reserved out of respect. His wife was probably a little too overzealous right now to consider that.

“Now mom, you need to promise me that you’re not going to bite,” Joyce said jokingly, but also, not so jokingly…

She looked over to Joyce with a frown. “Really? You think I travelled to the other side of the country just to eat your girlfriend?” She brushed her shoulders as if the insult had left a mark. “Maybe a nibble or two, at least...”

“Emily,” Joyce was finally the first to call to her, forcing the personal reminder that she indeed, was able to speak. She looked to Joyce with a sense of alertness, as Joyce gestured one hand to her dad, and the other two her mom. “Meet my parents!”

School plays were the worst. Productions centered around amateur students who either had the ambition but not the skill, or the kids without a single interest or acting bone in their body. Weeks would be spent preparing for such an important showcase; a culmination of practice, repetition, presentation, and skill, even if there was little to begin with. She could see herself on stage right now, dressed in the farmer’s overalls, facing an expectant audience, waiting for her cue to speak. And it had come, but the words wouldn’t. Weeks. Countless hours spent each and every day trying to remember and recite something that was so simple and so basic. Trained on a never-ending loop, just so that in a moment like this, you need only turn over a few stones to find the words carved into your skull. But of course, in a stereotypical fashion she would forget. Mr. Pig would never be told to get back into his pen, and Mrs. Forrs wouldn’t scold her for being such a mean farmer.

Her mouth moved slightly, but no sound came from it. Her array of social skills suddenly fell apart, and the sheer shock of the situation was enough to crumble her very foundation of human interaction. She scoured throughout her head for something intelligible to do or say; anything that would signify a proper greeting! God, why was she freezing up? Think! Think!

Quickly, she took one of her hands into the other placing them in front of herself. Then what surprised everyone in the room, though especially Emily and Joyce, was when from the waist up she bent forward at a 45 degree angle.

Whilst Joyce was thinking to herself, sh...she bowed…?

“N-nice to meet you!” She spoke in a slightly rushed voice, realizing the mistake later than she could correct it. “My name is Emily...” Obviously falling back on her most primitive form of basic introductions, she nearly added her last name too. What was she doing?!

She almost didn’t stand up straight, because surely then they’d see her face was as bright as a tomato. It was already a shaky start, but she’d certainly ruined her chances at mutual respect with this blunder. A deadly silence seeped into the room, and just a second elapsed was plenty lethal enough.

“Oooh. So formal!” Joyce’s mom suddenly said in fascination, finally taking the attention off of Emily’s shoulders as all heads turned to her.

Emily nearly laughed at her own insanity. She’s pitying me…

The only male in the room cleared his throat, “Definitely!” He gave a pleasant smile. “But Emily, really,” he chuckled. “We’re not that special, but we appreciate your hospitality.”

Emily slowly raised her head, still feeling the warmth radiate from her cheeks. Apparently it wasn’t as damaged as she thought, because the overwhelming dread of judgement and ridicule hadn’t fallen over her.

Although it started as a trickle, Emily could feel a sense of self flowing back to her as her vocabulary and rationale expanded to what it should be.

“S...sorry about that,” trying not to sound nervous, she laughed. “It’s a bad habit of mine. My mom is Japanese, so uh, she used to have me formally greet our Japanese side of the family.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiled once again, oddly making Emily feel a slight bit calmer. “Thank you again for your respect!”

“You never bowed to me when we first met...” Joyce said in a brief, jokingly pouty voice, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It definitely worked though, because Emily couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh, I can’t wait anymore!” Joyce’s mom suddenly exploded in a small burst of frustration, as her flats rushed across the floor and closed the gap between her and Emily in mere moments. Her arms wrapped around Emily in whole, her arms included. Trapped in the cocoon known as Joyce’s mom’s arms, she felt herself squeezed all over. “Emmy it’s so great to finally meet you! You’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!”

E..Emmy?

Emily slightly leaned her head past the woman and looked at Joyce with worried eyes. Worried for an endless list of reasons, the first on the list being the sudden physical affection she was now being given.

“Ah, hon,” her husband thankfully came to Emily’s rescue, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Mom!” Joyce near-hissed, much less reserved than her dad. “You can’t just smother her like that!”

Her mom finally relented, as Emily could feel some air getting back into her lungs. At least now she knew where Joyce got her affectionate side from…

She looked as if she only acknowledged Emily’s presence right then, as she apologized in a much more relaxed tone. “I’m very sorry about that Emmy, but I’ve been waiting quite a bit to do that… You know how it can be.” No, she didn’t, at least she thought, but her mom spoke as if the feeling justified her actions.

“You know we got lucky when Hannah decided to stick with our son after meeting you,” her husband joked, but given the depth of his voice, he almost sounded serious.

“Oh quit it, you! She’ll really start to think I’m some sort of creep or something,” she looked back to Emily as reassurance. “I promise, I’m not.” Clearly meant as a joke, Emily still nodded as if it were crucial information.

“By the way, Mom,” Joyce finally interjected. “Why are you calling her Emmy? Her name is Emily.”

“What do you mean?” She looked over to Joyce as if she were in the wrong. “I heard you call her that over the phone?”

All three relevant female figures in the room then remembered the night in question that Emily was sick and wandered into the kitchen.

“Didn’t I tell you that you misheard me? It’s Emily.”

“Fine, fine, but what’s the harm in a nickname? If you won’t say it, then I will. I think it’s cute,” she turned back to Emily. “You don’t mind the name, do you hon?”

Emily didn’t know if she was genuinely being asked or coerced into a binding contract. Just as she was going to look over to the visibly annoyed Joyce for help, the wife’s retainer once again reeled her in.

“Mary, you need to give Emily some space to breathe. I think she’s about to be shell-shocked if you keep the pressure like this.”

Clearly she didn’t like to be told ‘no,’ but she did seem to listen to reason as she let the topic go. “Sorry about that, Emily. She tends to get excited when meeting new people.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Emily gave the best smile she could; a few blocks down from a totally genuine one, considering how mixed her emotions were right now. Everything was either of positivity or pure confusion. And no offense to Joyce’s mom, but Emily was currently favoring the dad right about now… “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you guys as well.” That comment had both parents smiling.

“And you,” Joyce accusingly notioned to her mom, who looked back with confusion over the tone. “Do you know what time it is right now?”

“What? Maybe a half-past twelve? Noon at most?”

“It’s a few minutes past eleven!”

Quietly, Joyce’s dad moved on over to Emily’s side, making her look like a middle schooler at best. “This can happen every now and then...” he explained to Emily in a hushed voice, who quietly nodded, listening on as well.

“Isn’t that good? So we’re an hour early? That means we can do more stuff today!”

“An hour?!” Joyce raised her voice, just like her mom, “You told me the plane was going to land at one! Do you know how lucky you are that Charles was there early?”

“And we were very generous with his tip,” her mother said contently. “I really don’t see the issue. Everything worked out, didn’t it?”

Normally Joyce wouldn’t have been happy to hear that Charles was tipped. She paid him more than enough than to be tipped by the people he drives. When it involved working with her mother though, Joyce unfortunately felt that it was appropriate.

“This time, it did,” Joyce bitterly remarked. Probably a perk to their mother-daughter bond was how expressive they could be with the other and not fear hurting the other’s feelings. Emily watched in mild fascination, finally seeing their exchanges in the flesh rather than over the phone. “We just finished clearing out a room for you guys, you know? I was ready to have him make you guys circle the block until we were ready to send you guys up.” She looked over to her dad. “No offense, dad.”

“None taken.”

Both parties seemed to be calming down, as in the end what was done was done, and everything did work out by the end of it all. With one last sigh the pair hugged again.

“We’ve only seen the entrance, but your new apartment looks very nice, by the way!” Mary (Joyce’s mom) said, even with just a view of the lowered slate floor meant for shoes, and the slightest sliver of the living room on one end and the kitchen on the other in the hallway.

“We get by,” Joyce said simply, finally rolling in their suitcases, feeling slightly sheepish about just only closing the door now after all that turmoil… Hopefully she wouldn’t get a noise complaint… “How was the flight?”

“Nothing too bad. Your dad managed to get a good deal for business class,” her husband took a moment to look particularly proud, causing Emily by his side to involuntarily smirk. “Nothing too bad.”

“Well that’s good. I wouldn’t have minded getting you guys tickets, you know? That way I could, you know, actually figure out for when you’d be coming?” Obviously she wasn’t totally okay with the early arrival bit. Maybe not so much that, but decades of random disregards for a schedule or date had her simply predisposed to be strict with her mother.

“We appreciate the offer dear, but you’ve helped us more than enough. We always had a secure retirement, you just helped us make it a bit more...lavish?”

“And you said they’re always like that?” Emily looked up to Joyce’s dad.

“One minute it could be like that, and the next right back to a fight...”

“They sound like sisters...”

“Who knows?”

The two laughed, and with the volume of the dad’s voice, Joyce and Mary couldn’t help but notice.

“Seems like they’re getting along,” Mary passively said to Joyce, pleased with the sight. Joyce looked back to her with a smirk. “Something tells me though you two might not come so easily.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She looked to Joyce questioningly, but then they shared a laugh too. What they understood as sarcasm and genuine flame and fire was something only years of parenting and daughtering could realize. People like Emily and Joyce’s dad could only observe and take notes as they try to decipher a bond that transcended common sense.

“So one last time,” Joyce turned back to Emily. “Emily, meet my parents, Mary and Frank. Mom, dad, meet Emily.”

All three exchanged greetings one last time, though without the formal bow from Emily this time.

“Feel free to call me Mom, though!” Mary added with a smile, whilst the other two apart from Emily gave her suggestive stares.

“Do you guys want to see your room?” Joyce broke the tension unbeknownst to her mom. “I can give you the tour once you’re unpacked.”

“That sounds like a good place to start,” her dad agreed. “Let me just get our...”

“Oh! Your bags,” Emily suddenly trying to be helpful hopped onto the slate floor with her bare feet, taking one of the suitcases with both hands. It came nearly up to her waist and even on wheels when she tried to move it the weight was beyond evident. It was heavy, but she wasn’t going to call it quits after already offering.

“Emm-ily, you might want to let Frank take that one. I’m not the lightest packer...” Joyce’s mom with a sudden sense of concern almost intercepted the girl as she maneuvered the case.

Emily almost grunted as she moved it. The woman definitely didn’t pack light, but again, Emily didn’t want to waste her gesture. “No, really! It’s fine. I’ve got it.” She wheeled it over to the greatest challenge: the tiny ledge separating the shoe area, and the raised wooden floor where only socks and bare feet could roam. It was minor, of course, but when considering Emily’s physical strength coupled with a heavy suitcase, it wasn’t too far from a recipe for disaster…

“Emily, why don’t you let my dad get that?” Joyce like her mother wasn’t feeling too enthusiastic about the challenge either. She knew her heart was in the right place, but still…

“All I need to do is...” Certainly struggling, she brought it up to the ledge, trying desperately to lift the ten ton tank on wheels, wooden floor slightly hung over the slate floor, and the front wheels were getting caught on it. She turned her back to the case as she tried to pull it forward.

Someone other than Emily finally took action though, as Frank got behind the suitcase, giving the bottom a slight lift and a push for Emily’s sake. It definitely cleared the gap, with the whole system had so much momentum combined, she hadn’t seen the sudden boost in speed coming as she quickly let go of the suitcase and stumbled forward, slipping on the smooth floor. It was close to being a repeat of last night, only that her hands caught the floor before her nose did.

“Emily!” Two voices in unison spoke with urgency as Joyce and Mary were both by her side.

“Are you alright?” Joyce was the first to ask.

Clearly embarrassed, she nodded her head, almost immediately regretting her determination to be helpful. “Yeah, didn’t hit my nose this time?” She spoke as if it were a silver lining, and Joyce chuckled while Mary still looked concerned.

“What does she mean ‘this time’? Oh, and Emmy hon, you might want to fix your dress...”

Emily spun her head behind her, and suddenly realized why it suddenly felt slightly cooler on the upper parts of her thighs. With the bottom half of her sundress thrown about because of her own antics, her pantied bottom was on display for everyone to see. Before she could herself, Mary fixed it for her; an even worse fate than fixing it herself.

Trying not to look at her, namely because of how hard she was blushing, Emily muttered a thank you.

“Just let my husband take the bags from here on out, okay? You’ve got gusto though,” she chuckled, “I’ll give ya that.”

Gusto unfortunately didn’t feel very appropriate for how she was feeling right now, as she could feel herself desperately wanting to shrink into nothingness and vanish. Not only had she messed up her greeting, but she just flashed Joyce’s parents as well! She’d much rather be caught in panties than the alternative, though… Still, those ‘mature’ designs she was talking about earlier quickly started to feel only so when compared to her diapers.

Why?

Why did she have to be wearing the ones with the stripes?!

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That was great. Good thing she wasn't diapered and no stains on her panties. Though i wonder if after wearing a diaper for over 24 hours if she will remember in time to not pee her panties. I know if i wear for a day or two I've come close to forgetting just in the nick of time. Also maybe she should wear a diaper to bed. Maybe Joyce hid a few diapers in her room just for that. I can't wait to see how things go. I wonder if mom and dad have their own secrets that are hidden in that heavy suitcase. 

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Emily nooooooo! Oh the poor thing, I just want to hug her after that ending. As a fellow sufferer of crippling social anxiety and as an outside observer, that last bit is both incredibly painful and at the same time incredibly amusing. ?

Another fantastic update, and so soon after the last one too I was super mega surprised when I checked DD and saw chapter 19 was up! I can't wait for more and a Happy Easter to you!

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22 hours ago, Crinkleybutt said:

OMG! ? Another just incredible update!! I feel so spoiled for Easter ?

Oh right, I did release it pretty close to easter ? Lucky coincidence I suppose? Thanks for commenting!

22 hours ago, Guilend said:

That was great. Good thing she wasn't diapered and no stains on her panties. Though i wonder if after wearing a diaper for over 24 hours if she will remember in time to not pee her panties. I know if i wear for a day or two I've come close to forgetting just in the nick of time. Also maybe she should wear a diaper to bed. Maybe Joyce hid a few diapers in her room just for that. I can't wait to see how things go. I wonder if mom and dad have their own secrets that are hidden in that heavy suitcase. 

Hmm, who knows? Maybe given how early she is into things, she might not slip so easy, but it could definitely be a concern later down the road. As for the bed, she's also covered on that front. For now...bwahahaha! There's definitely a lot of speculation, and a few ways this visit could end! Stay tuned, and thanks for commenting!

20 hours ago, foofybabykitten said:

Emily nooooooo! Oh the poor thing, I just want to hug her after that ending. As a fellow sufferer of crippling social anxiety and as an outside observer, that last bit is both incredibly painful and at the same time incredibly amusing. ?

Another fantastic update, and so soon after the last one too I was super mega surprised when I checked DD and saw chapter 19 was up! I can't wait for more and a Happy Easter to you!

Yeah, Emily's definitely had better days. I wouldn't describe Emily as naturally shy to all strangers, but probably not overwhelmingly confident either. Nevertheless, there's definitely the intimidation from trying to make a good first impression on Joyce's parents, and it's clear she's cracking from the pressure. So without a doubt though, this visit is going to be a mix of pain and pleasure. Thanks for commenting!

19 hours ago, the diaper mike said:

 I absolutely love it please continue

Absolutely love to hear everyone's comments and opinions. Thanks a ton!

17 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

Whee :)

Thanks for the comment, and hope you enjoy to read my stuff as always!

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*summons a star fleet full of space carriers full of robonannies flying protective screens as they prepare for the Death For Pottymonsters Star aligns itself by earth ready to end the evil of potty-monsters and the potties they cal home once and for all*

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Another amazing chapter! Thank you for writing this wonderful story. ??

The bedtime story part was so tender and cute that it makes me feel butterflies...❤️

And when the parents arrived! Poor Emily or is it Emmy. ??

She just showed them the part of her insecure and immature nature with a very clumsy behaviour, controlled by her subconsiousness? And she must feel so embarrassed right now.

On one hand I feel sorry for her. On the other hand; Maybe it is not that bad at all. In the long run it might be easier for them to acknowlegde both the adult Emily and the child Emmy. Maybe Mary and Frank will be grandma and grandpa earlier than expected. Mary already call her Emmy (I know it is not the reason). But I have this feeling she already sees the child in Emily like her daugther did. ☺️

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Wow, I'm not sure what to say that hasn't been said already... Emily is working herself up way to much, she needs to  remember to just breathe, and go 28th the flow instead of fighting the Rip-tide of her emotional current.

 

 

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6 hours ago, Jayme said:

Wow, I'm not sure what to say that hasn't been said already... Emily is working herself up way to much, she needs to  remember to just breathe, and go 28th the flow instead of fighting the Rip-tide of her emotional current.

 

 

Yeah, Emily definitely needs to take a breather. It's gonna be a real toss and turn here and there, but that seems like the best conclusion to reach. Of course, there's no gain without a little pain. Joyce's parents is a huge milestone to her, so she feels a massive pressure to impress, which is why she's cracking right now. How things will end by the time they leave is a mystery, but all will be made clear eventually! Thanks for commenting, and I appreciate the kind words!

On 4/22/2019 at 1:00 AM, Sarah Penguin said:

*summons a star fleet full of space carriers full of robonannies flying protective screens as they prepare for the Death For Pottymonsters Star aligns itself by earth ready to end the evil of potty-monsters and the potties they cal home once and for all*

Destruction! ?

On 4/27/2019 at 9:11 AM, Little_Mouse said:

Another amazing chapter! Thank you for writing this wonderful story. ??

The bedtime story part was so tender and cute that it makes me feel butterflies...❤️

And when the parents arrived! Poor Emily or is it Emmy. ??

She just showed them the part of her insecure and immature nature with a very clumsy behaviour, controlled by her subconsiousness? And she must feel so embarrassed right now.

On one hand I feel sorry for her. On the other hand; Maybe it is not that bad at all. In the long run it might be easier for them to acknowlegde both the adult Emily and the child Emmy. Maybe Mary and Frank will be grandma and grandpa earlier than expected. Mary already call her Emmy (I know it is not the reason). But I have this feeling she already sees the child in Emily like her daugther did. ☺️

Thanks for the feedback! And yeah, Emily's definitely having a tough time trying to adjust. In the process of trying to make herself look good, she's definitely overcompensating, hence why there's so much struggle. This visit is likely going to focus on Emily getting used to things, and being more comfortable with herself and others. Mary may or may not be picking up on things, or gravitate to her own conclusions/tendencies. You'll have to wait and see, though! Hope you enjoy to continue reading!

20 - Starting the Day

Stripes.

The image of failure was burned into her mind, and the remnants of it still poisoned her eyes. It was probably as vivid of a memory for herself as it was for everyone else in the room. Clearly it was a group effort to continuously try and shift the spotlight off of her, and lord did she prefer it that way. Nevertheless, she managed time and time again to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory in such a short span of time. She was probably breaking records and setting an unheard of streak. Even as she stood up she could feel her legs desperately trying to wade themselves through the thick, mucky atmosphere she was drowning herself in.

She nearly snapped when she found herself unconsciously eyeing the back of her dress, as if it would’ve been pinned upwards again. If she thought she was embarrassed before, well, her face in other words would make a great alternative to a traditional stove right about now. If it didn’t look so childish, she wouldn’t have taken much issue with holding onto the bottom of her dress until the end of time. Beating herself in the back of the head, why didn’t she just go put some shorts on earlier? Alongside her anxiety, she was drowning in regrets right now too, but she knew what’s been done is done. All she could hope for was trying not to slip any further.

“Frank, what did you do?” Mary accusingly looked over to the quiet man who was setting the fallen suitcase upright.

“Well, I uh, I figured she could use a hand?” His intentions were obviously good, but the end result couldn’t be called the same…

“And what good that did her… Emmy hon, are you sure you’re alright?” Casually, she put a hand on her shoulder.

Still flustered, and definitely trying to avoid eye contact, she was too shaken to even correct her mom’s misuse of her name. Emmy was a special title, one that not only did she not want to don right now, but it was also a name exclusively reserved for Joyce. More so, Emily didn’t know whether her compassion made her simply feel cared for, or downright like a kid that needed consoling.

“Mom? She’s fine, but you’re calling her Emmy again.” Joyce again had taken the liberty of being Emily’s voice.

“Sorry about that,” she looked a bit sheepish as she apologized. “I think I already set myself up for a habit before we even got here...”

Emily wanted to die when Joyce’s dad came closer and got on one knee, indirectly highlighting the monumental difference in height.

“Sorry about that Emily, I thought I was helping. You sure you’re alright?”

“...ye,” she paused to clear her throat, hoping to find some of that ‘gusto’ hidden in the cupboards. “Y-yes. I think I should have let you taken the bags from the start, though,” she tried to laugh it off, but the pressure didn’t seem to dissipate much.

“Okay, come on,” Joyce clapped her hands together. “Let me show you guys your room? Dad, could you get all the bags please?”

“Way ahead of ya,” with the duffle over his shoulder and the two suitcases in tow, he was the first to be following behind Joyce, meanwhile Mary and Emily shared the caboose.

“And you’re sure you alright?” In a lowered voice, Mary looked over to Emily. “That tumble didn’t look too fun...”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Emily tried to stay neutral as they followed behind. Suddenly a walk that would normally take Emily 10 seconds was starting to feel stretched to the point of 10 years. She could hear the slight ‘Oohs’ and ‘Ahhs’ from Mary as they passed by the living room.

“Joyce, I love what you did with your living room!”

From the front she called back. “Well, all I really knew was a big couch would probably be for the best, considering how big the room is. I can definitely say though that Emily gets quite a bit of mileage on it in our free time.”

Mary simply laughed as she looked to Emily. “Is that so?”

“Uhm, maybe sometimes...” Unlike Joyce, Emily wasn’t feeling so boastful about her lounging habits. Anything that could be perceived as ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’ when with Joyce felt like something totally different with her parents added to the equation. She wasn’t trying to be eye candy, she was trying to be Joyce’s girlfriend! So far, she wasn’t feeling that point was well-translated. It probably would have made more sense to start calling Joyce ‘Mom’ instead…

“Whoa! Hon, check out the size of this bed!”

Emily was finally left by herself just outside the hallway while Mary and Frank marveled at the sight Emily once did not so long ago.

“Woow...” Both paced the room, and Mary gave the comforter a test feel as she then let out a sound of satisfaction when she sat on the mattress. “I don’t suppose we could start paying rent?”

“Sorry, max capacity is two,” Joyce joked, holding up her two fingers, suddenly looking around for Emily. “Feel free to use the balcony if you want, and the dresser if empty for the both of you to use.” Her gaze kept drifting elsewhere, looking for something important. “Why don’t you two unpack first, then I can show you the rest of the place?”

“Sounds good to me,” her dad answered for him and Mary, as he was somewhat gentle in setting the suitcases on the expensive fabric.

“Careful! You’re gonna wrinkle it, or probably damage it!”

“Relax hon, I made sure to clear the security deposit beforehand.”

Joyce quietly excused herself with a giggle, letting the familial warmth drain from her a bit as she looked over to the pensive Emily hanging by the wall.

“Hey, you alright?” quietly she asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, one that Emily actually didn’t mind.

“No...” Emily spoke somberly. “It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and I already screwed everything up!” It felt like her teeth were being pulled alongside her confession. “They probably think I’m some weirdo that wound up in your care...”

“Come on, would you quit that?” Still quiet, Joyce sounded upbeat. “They do not think that. My dad’s that way with anybody new, and obviously my mom has practically fallen in love with you...” she said her last point with a bit of apprehension.

“But what about what just...you know!”

“Well...” Joyce didn’t have an easy answer for that one. “Trust me, I doubt they even care. And even if they did, I’m sure they’ll forget about it in no time.”

Yeah right. How could you forget day one of meeting your daughter’s lover, and especially seeing them faceplant within 10 minutes of meeting you, and showing off her butt to everyone in the room? Emily chose not to speak on that part. She could only be thankful that Joyce wasn’t asking her about the bowing part. Maybe if her face burned enough she’d burn into ash? At least then she could be swept away...

“Do you think you wanna crash in my room while I show them around? Maybe take a breather?”

Obviously the respectful answer was ‘no,’ but she hated that her body was being much more honest; desperation at the mere sound of her suggestion. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest, and she was one blunder away from committing total social suicide.

“But I don’t...”

“Go,” Joyce warmly smiled as she turned her to her room. “I’ll just tell them you needed to do something. Cheer up, okay? Today’s supposed to be fun!”

It was, but Emily seemed to really be screwing that part up. She tried to calm herself, but an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her the more distance there was between the guest room and herself. The silence in Joyce’s room was beyond divine as she slowly closed the door behind her. Crawling onto the bed, she sat against the headboard, pulling her legs close.

Why did she have to be like this? She had no issue with meeting strangers, but Joyce’s parents were obviously an exception. The added title intensified the gravity to it all, making it that much more detrimental. Thing would be so much worse if Emily were to somehow mess up, which she did. Because there was pressure, so was there the worry of failure, making her that much more prone to suffer from so. So why couldn’t she just see them as normal people? Why?  She rested her head on a pillow, trying to collect herself.

Meanwhile, Joyce made small talk with her parents as they unpacked.

“Wait, where did Emm-ily go?” Mary was the first to ask as she carried a bundle to the dresser.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“Like I said, it’s a habit!” Mary defensively spoke, as Joyce watched her dad sort a pile of shirts.

“She, uhm, needed to call her parents. She didn’t talk to them yesterday.”

“What difference would today or yesterday make? Not that it really matters,” Mary once more carried the conversation, as Frank seemed content to carry on with himself for the time being.

“Oh, I mean, yesterday we celebrated her birthday.” And now that she thought about it, why didn’t Emily talk to her parents last night?

“You did what?” There was a sense of graveness in her mother’s voice, enough to make Joyce feel a little awkward. “You mean to tell me that yesterday was her birthday?”

“...Yes?”

Frank!” Mary turned her complaints to her innocent husband, who looked just as surprised as Joyce to be dragged into the conversation. “I told you we should have come sooner!”

“Mom,” Joyce was the first to defend her dad. “Even if you wanted to, I don’t even think that would’ve been possible. And besides, you didn’t even know it was her birthday!”

“Clearly it must have been intuition,” Mary sufficed, checking a few more drawers. “And don’t think just because it’s the next day that we aren’t gonna do something for her,” she warned.

Just before Joyce could shut down that idea immediately, a voice cut her off. “Is she doing alright, by the way?” Frank finally spoke, and then the unspoken mood was brought into the open. Her dad seemed himself, but her mom didn’t look as firey anymore. She always got like that when someone’s feelings were involved.

“She’ll be fine,” Joyce tried to give her best fake smile. She knew she would, but that didn’t change how she felt right now. Unfortunately, only time seemed to be the most effective solution here. She’d simply have to learn that her parents were just like anyone else… “But I mean, I can’t imagine I’d be feeling too great right now either if I were her.”

“She meant well though...” Mary added.

“She did, and I told her that you guys were going to love her.”

“Of course!” her mom nearly shouted, looking almost offended as if that weren’t a given. “It’s only been a little bit, but she’s adorable!”

“She seems nice,” Frank added. “I can’t say your mom has told me too much about her though.”

Joyce was going to curb the cutesy descriptions her mom kept using, but was caught by the tide of a shifting conversation. “Really? You never told dad anything?”

“I told him her name…and how she likes sleeping?”

“Oh my god. You told him nothing,” Joyce was one second away from laughing, and her mom was trying to keep herself composed. Frank looked amused, but saved her wife from total embarrassment.

“Well, I think I’ll be able to get to know her a lot better than what a middle man could tell me. You included, hon,” he pat his wife on the shoulder.

“Right, I think so too,” making good use of her fallback, Mary seemed confident once again. “By the time we go out for brunch I think we’ll all be ready for a fresh start.”

“Brunch?” Joyce asked.

“What? Did you really think airplane food was going to tide us over?” Mary looked a little surprised by her daughter’s confusion, and Frank didn’t seem to be disagreeing with his wife’s sentiment either.

“You know the airplanes don’t exactly give gourmet food...” Frank added, obviously qualified to make such a statement.

“No,” Joyce sighed. “They don’t.”

“It’s settled then,” Mary finally set aside the last of her clothes, and Frank had finished earlier. “After we finish up here, let’s go grab a bite to eat. What are you in the mood for?”

“Me?” Joyce shrugged. “I suppose I could eat anything right about now. Dad?”

“Maybe breakfast more than lunch, but I’m as flexible right now as anyone else.”

“So maybe breakfast? That doesn’t narrow things too much...”

“How about we have Emily decide?” Mary suggested.

Joyce could already imagine Emily’s distaste for the spotlight, but picking a place to eat couldn’t be too bad for her, right? “Okay. Once she wraps up with her parents on the phone we can ask her. In the meantime, I can show you guys the rest of the apartment.” With Joyce leading the line, they all crowded into the hallway. “There’s nothing too crazy here, but it’s alright.”

“Honey, I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live a normal life...” Frank passively spoke as he gave the massive guest room one last glance. “You know living in a home one step away from a penthouse isn’t considered ‘not too crazy,’ right?”

It’s obvious Joyce’s tastes had been ruined by a life of self-made luxury, but the warp had been so gradual, even she knew she was losing her grip on the more subtle things. And maybe even major, considering her parents didn’t find this so subtle either…

“I thought about a penthouse, but that would’ve been too much for little old me,” she jokingly explained while walking down the hall.

“You’ve got Emily now, though? Granted, I think this would still be more than enough...” Mary admired a painting along the brief stroll. “What does she do for work by the way?”

“She could probably explain it better than I ever could, but she works in real estate.”

“Oh? Is she selling actual homes? What company is it?”

“Luxury Estate, and no, from how I understand it she’s working a desk job.” Her heart started to waver just thinking about the turmoil at her workplace. Hopefully it would sort itself soon… “This is the first room in the house,” Joyce fully opened the partly closed doorway. “My office.”

“Two monitors?”

“One for business and the other for whatever,” Joyce took a moment to fix the blinds. “I like to keep the lives separate, you know?”

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Frank chuckled, “haven’t worked in years!”

Her dad’s simple humor had her laughing again, while her mom admired the decor, and wondered whether it was the 100th or 101st time he’d used that joke before. Such are the woes of a lengthy and healthy marriage…

“You definitely get your sense of humor from your dad.”

“Oh? And is that a bad thing?” She corralled them out of the room and onto the next.

“Yeah, what’s so bad about my jokes? You love hearing them!”

“There’s a difference between funny and living with a record stuck on repeat,” she playfully jabbed.

“Well get used to it, I’m sure we’ve got at least another good 10 years together!”

“Keep that up and I’ll make it 5.”

“Mom, dad?” Joyce looked at the two, clearly uncomfortable over the topic of inevitable demise. “Would you mind sounding a little more cheerful?”

Her dad sighed, looking to his wife. “Young people, am I right?”

Her mom mimicked his same reaction. “Something they’ll never understand...”

“Well, not never.”

“True.”

“Stop, stop, stop!”

Both parents shared a chuckle while the troubled Joyce opened up the bathroom, revealing it and all its shiny, tiled splendor to the pair.

Still annoyed by the recent discussion, Joyce’s sour mood overlooked the genuine beauty of her most prized room. “This is the bathroom… Feel free to use it as you please.”

“Wow,” and there would definitely be many more ‘wows’ to come, yet Frank went on, “Joyce, I know you keep downplaying this all, but you really can’t think this is something spectacular, can you?”

“You remember my last apartment, right?” Joyce shrugged. “It can’t be too different from this one.”

“I’d disagree,” her mom took a moment to observe the ceiling showerhead panel. “This one has to be at least twice as big! I bet you two like to spend some time in here, huh?”

Mom! Would you mind being a little more discrete?” She could already imagine Emily being petrified if she were to hear this kind of stuff. She was thankful Emily listened to her request to go and cool down, but now she was really glad she did.

“Still, I don’t suppose we could come up with a few excuses to use this twice a day?” Especially for Joyce’s mom, she looked to be in a wonderland right about now. “I know our master bathroom back in California is nice, but this is… And look! You have so many shelves!” Fussing over the simple, yet elegant things, she admired the endless stock of towels and amenities.

“I was almost afraid your mirror wouldn’t be tall enough for me!” Frank with his booming voice joked as the mirror in front of the sink stretched from the bottom well-near to the ceiling. A long strip of light hidden by the wooden trim along the cabinets shined over the mirror’s indent.

“Well I knew I’d need to account for your height when I was house shopping,” Joyce explained in a serious tone. “I swear dad, sometimes I feel like you’ve grown an inch or two every now and then.” She briefly remembered seeing his comparison to Emily. Honestly she did look a little younger than her actual age standing next to him… The more she thought about it, making a judgement when comparing polar opposites didn’t seem too accurate… Emily was already a little small compared to Joyce. She could only imagine how much of a titan her dad was to her.

“Let me know when the tour is done so I can move my bags in here for the rest of our stay,” her mom almost sounded disappointed as they left probably her personal highlight of the entire venture.

“How about that room there?” Frank pointed to the one that Joyce intentionally skipped. The one locked for obvious reasons. Reasons only obvious to she and Emily, of course.

“Oh, don’t mind that one,” Joyce played it off casually. “Just a room I use for storage.”

“And what would you have for storage?” her mom asked, sending a small chill up Joyce’s spine. “I mean, what with all this space you have everywhere else in the house, might as well free up another room if it means a little more housekeeping.”

She nearly let out a breath of relief. “Quite the opposite. If for the price of one room means I can keep everywhere else spotless? That’s a fair deal to me. I know you guys got to see a glimpse of it, but just to say we did go through it, here’s the living room.”

“Now here’s where she takes after you, hon,” Frank nudged Mary. “I think I’d probably never get up again if I slept on that thing.”

“Big, soft cushions are the best, obviously.” Mary pressed her hand into the abundant cloud confined to a case with immeasurable satisfaction. “I always love visiting you, Joyce! It’s always fun to see how you’ve outdone yourself! Oh, wait! And who’s this little cutie pie?”

Joyce looked over to the item in question, and suddenly grew wide-eyed at what it was. How? After everything they’d done; combing the entire place with a fine-toothed comb, counting every grain in the Sahara, and accounting for every speck of matter?! She tried her best to stay strong as she watched her mom fawn over another squishy friend. The third member of the family.

Pip.

“What’s this fella supposed to be?” She looked as happy as the smile on its ovular body, giving it a few squeezes. “I didn’t know you liked stuffed animals?”

“It’s not mine, it’s-” Her speech froze when she realized just how big of a mistake she’d made. Instead of thinking about Emily’s sake, she considered her own first, not even considering whether or not she’d throw her beloved under the bus. What the hell was she thinking?! “N-no, I mean, it is mine. I thought it looked cute, so I...bought it.” Yeah, real convincing.

Her mom seemed no less happy, but looked a little hurt. “Honey, you know you don’t have to keep secrets around us, right?

“What?” She really didn’t know what, or at least she wanted to pretend not to. “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s adorable Emily has a stuffed animal!” She gave Pip another hug. “I bet she looks darling with it!”

“No, but it’s not...” Joyce tried to explain, but her words were failing her because deep down she knew they wouldn’t work. The only thing she could take solace in was how it wasn’t a total reveal of the truth. Still, she was supposed to be protecting Emily! Not painting an image of her she didn’t want to show!

“Just...just don’t say anything about it?” She looked to be a meager request away from full-on begging. “Please? She’s sensitive about that stuff...” Maybe it was worth confiding in her mom at least a little. “I meant to hide that before you guys got here...” She’d need to give Pip a stern talking to later tonight…

“Joyce, there’s nothing wrong if she has something like this. This is your home. Even if I did care, which I don’t,” she looked fondly on the lifeless smile. “Who are we to judge? And don’t worry, I promise not to say anything.” She set Pip back down where she found him, looking back over. “Wait, where’s your dad?”

Thankfully Joyce didn’t feel the need to say anymore, as she spun her head around, looking for the mysteriously vanished giant. It only took her a moment to chuckle as she knew exactly where he was. “I think he’s in the last room I planned to show. The pièce de résistance, or his personal one, at least.”

“The kitchen?”

“Did you even have to ask?”

They walked in to find him exactly where they expected him to be: in the kitchen observing all the spices, appliances, utensils, fridge space, ingredients, and even the countertops. Currently he was fixed on the sink.

He could already tell they were behind him though, when he already started his questions. “Joyce! How were you able to find a sink this wide?” Indeed, it went beyond the standard, being nearly as wide as a restaurant grade one, but with the depth of a homeowner’s one.

“That one had to be custom made.” She could still remember having the space measured for a cut. “But after working under you and at the restaurant, there’s no way I was gonna go back to a regular kitchen sink!” Before Emily, she didn’t even cook too often, but that still didn’t mean she didn’t have certain wants in a kitchen.

“Good on ya, too.” He looked to Mary with a serious look, pointing to the sink. “This, hon, is how we know our daughter’s made it.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Typical chef.”

“I don’t suppose your guy can do a job across the country?”

“I can find out?”

“Haven’t we remodeled the kitchen enough?” Clearly her mom didn’t share the same enthusiasm. In the end though what happened didn’t totally affect her, considering the kitchen back home was practically her husband’s 3rd child.

Suddenly the shoe was on the other foot, when Joyce leaned into her father. “Non-chefs, am I right?”

“Some things they’ll never understand...”

“Anyways,” Mary curtly interjected, “I’m sure you two are happy to be in the same kitchen again?”

“Naturally. Just because she flew the coop doesn’t mean I taught her all my tricks,” he pat Joyce on the head.

“Well I’ll have you know I’ve been managing just fine.” She smugly took a moment to admire her small paradise.

“Just because you’re not a master doesn’t mean you’re not good, and the best feeling is when you have someone to cook for,” he warmly added, striking an obvious chord with Joyce.

Helplessly smiling, Joyce agreed, not noticing her mom’s happy look from the kitchen table.

“I’d really like to see the ins and outs of this spot of the house, but something tells me your mom isn’t going to wait that long...”

“You’d be correct.”

“I’ll go and see if Emily’s finished up yet,” Joyce excused herself, stopping along the way to pick up Pip. “Maybe you’re the reason why she was such a troublemaker last night...” she tutted in a lowered voice, walking up to her door. She lightly knocked. “Emily? You in there? It’s Joyce.”

“Mhm. You can come in.”

She opened the door, looking relieved to see Emily was still in one piece, though obviously snuggled up on her bed. It hurt beyond words to see her so distraught, but clearly the distance and isolation had done her some good. Though, she suddenly looked stricken with a new wave of fear once she saw Pip.

“W-wait, what was he doing out there?” She looked to Pip, and back to Joyce. “They didn’t find out, did they?” Whatever time she spent calming the flames inside of her, they seemed to be roaring just as much again, if not worse.

“No, no, no, I promise they didn’t.” God, even lying felt worse. “But something tells me even if they did, my mom probably wouldn’t be as negative as you think...” Emily didn’t seem any more at ease. “I managed to find this little sucker before they could. Think we can keep him safe here?” She handed him over to Emily, who nearly gave it a squeeze of her own before setting it down.

“Did they ask where I was?”

“They did, but I told them you needed to call your parents because of yesterday.”

“What? What happened yesterday?” How could Joyce be writing her a story without her even knowing it?

“Your birthday?”

“Oh.” Clearly one she already forgot.

“They were talking about going out to eat right now.” She gave Emily’s hand a squeeze. “Feeling up to it?”

Some distance did wonders for her nerves, but she knew she couldn’t run forever. After all, she at least seemed to have a slightly positive moment with Joyce’s dad, even if it was at the expense of Joyce’s feud with her mom… She nodded her head.

“Perfect. Wanna head back out with me?”

“Sure.”

Sliding off the bed, Emily followed Joyce to the exit, then quickly stopped herself.

“What’s wrong?” Joyce watched as Emily fished through the drawers, finding exactly what she was looking for.

Sliding a pair of denim shorts up and underneath her dress, she lifted the front slightly to ensure the button and zipper were in place. “Something I should have done this morning...” She finished her work, and the dress came back down, giving no indication that her clothing had changed. “How do I look?”

“Like your adorable self.”

“I don’t wanna be adorable, though...”

“Then you’re my beautiful baby?”

Joyce!” Emily spoke with a sense of urgency, suddenly wondering just how close her parents were.

She held up her hands, showing off their emptiness. “Sorry, but it’s one or the other!”

Emily was the first to take the lead, and Joyce amusedly watched her walk down the hall, happy to see she was back out of her shell.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you guys the whole time,” Emily apologized as she found them in the kitchen. “I had to speak with my parents.”

“No problem, we only cried for the first few minutes,” Frank smiled, and Mary then stared daggers at him. “Hon, I’m sure she knows what a joke is.”

“Didn’t Joyce just get finished...” her disapproving voice trailed as Emily’s slow but growing laugh filled the room. A pleasant warmth was finally introduced into the atmosphere; one that only knew how be itself around Joyce.

“So Joyce told me we’re going out to eat?”

“I think I can speak for the both of us when I say we’re starved. Airplanes know how to keep their customers alive just long enough so that they die of starvation only after they unboard.”

“Honestly,” Mary agreed. “Eight hours and we only get a small meal, tiny breakfast and a pack of peanuts? Half the bill came from Frank’s list of drinks!”

“Then tell them to get bigger cups!”

Emily kept laughing, and was briefly surprised by the touch of Joyce behind her, but was no less cheerful.

“Only thing is we’re not locals around here, Em,” Frank said. “Think you know of a place where we can get a bite?”

With all eyes on her, she became slightly meek again. “Uhm, well, what were you in the mood for?”

Frank looked to Mary, then Joyce.

“I think breakfast is the better option,” he concluded after taking a visual survey. “Sound good to you?”

“Yeah, of course!” Emily felt herself rushing along her words, but tried not to be too critical of herself. That’s how her bottom fell under the spotlight, after all.

“Then what’re we waiting for? All this talk about food’s really gonna be the end of me if we don’t get something soon,” standing up from her chair, Mary was already moving to the exit.

“I’d bring a jacket, by the way!” Joyce called after her. “The restaurants aren’t always temperature friendly!”

“Frank? Would you mind?” Mary called back.

“Do you want the purple, black, or red one?” He was already moving from his spot.

“What do you mean? I only brought the red one?”

“Whatever you say!” On his way out, he silently turned to Emily and Joyce, mouthing a ‘no’ with his lips, and holding up three fingers. He seemed a bit more perky once Emily was once again a sucker for simple humor.

An arm around Emily’s shoulder gave her arm a brief rub. Emily watched as Frank disappeared around the corner. “I better go get my jacket too… Which one do you want?  Emily waited for an answer.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Just grab one you think that’ll make me look pretty?”

“So any of them?”

“I knew we started dating for a reason!”

A grin lasted Emily the whole way to Joyce’s room--their room, actually, and she sifted through Joyce’s massive, yet fully stocked closet for something suitable. She already had a black one for herself, and figured that’d be the best for Joyce as well. What didn’t work with black? Last time she checked her phone though, today was supposed to be nice and sunny, so hopefully the restaurant didn’t try to counter the weather too harshly…

“Thank you very much, my sweet!” Joyce took her jacket from Emily, as well as hers too.

“I can carry my own jacket?” She was suddenly a little nervous with Joyce’s mom nearby. She didn’t want to make a scene…

“Oh? Are you sure? I figured it’d be easier if I just took both of them.”

“Uhm, alright then.” Emily didn’t want to poke the bear too much, and resigned herself to putting on her shoes. Though, she silently reacted to a new pair that were suddenly sitting for her. Instead of the Converse she’d gotten used to for casual wear, a pair of strap sandals were waiting for her. They oddly looked like they would complement her current wear… How far did this woman plan ahead? Joyce was always about gambles, and sometimes Emily found it strange how she always managed to win. Then again, she was the House.

She would never admit it out loud, but it truly did make Emily a little happier to have the extra inch to her stature, but then she unfortunately remembered that so did everyone else not walking barefoot, negating any sort of advantage she thought she had to begin with.

The two other females had a purse slung over their shoulder, and Frank likely had everything he’d ever need in his two pockets.

There wasn’t much trouble fitting everyone into the elevator as they moved down to the sublevel garage.

“So are you still driving the Cadillac?”

“Why would I stop?”

“Fair point. But I figured you might upgrade at some point.”

“I’m not too big on cars, I guess. If it looks nice and feels nice, I really can’t complain.”

Mary turned next to Emily. “Really, I can’t understand how she does it.”

“Isn’t she your daughter, though?” Emily smirked.

“Very true, but sometimes I feel the same about my husband and her brother! Regardless, if it weren’t for the parking garage here, having a vehicle here must cost a small fortune.”

“I’ll say. Back where I was before having a vehicle was too difficult to manage, and given that it’s relatively easy to move around I don’t worry about it so much.”

Everything seemed to be all well and good until the last part.

“Joyce, you make sure she gets around safely, right?”

“Yes, I make sure it’s all taken care of.”

“W-well, I mean,” Emily slightly stammered, a little surprised that her personal safety fell into question. “I’m not exactly new to the city life? I can get around pretty easily?” Was her independence really being questioned?

“The city’s a big place, that’s all,” Mary explained. “And well...” As she looked to Emily, it was clear she was trying to be delicate with her answer. Parent or not, Emily had enough foresight to tell what she was getting at, and she didn’t like it. Maybe on some level because she was a girl, Emily understood, but so was Joyce. Therefore, it was clearly her size that made her vulnerable… She tried not to seem too embarrassed.

Thankfully Frank jumped in to diffuse the potential tension and embarrassment. “Still, it really is great having some personal transportation around here. I know I’d be thankful to have a car. That must be a nice perk, right?” He looked to Emily.

She supposed that she should be thankful for his kind gesture. “Mmm. I think you’re right.”

“Though, you always start to doze off during car rides...” Joyce quietly added from behind.

“What? Do not!”

“Whatever you say~”

As if she needed to clear up the misunderstanding, Emily looking to each parent tried to disprove what was likely fact. “I swear, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Your daughter gets these crazy ideas sometimes!”

Everyone in the moving box started to laugh over Emily’s panicked retreat, and somehow she felt as if the crowd swayed in the exact opposite direction she wanted. There wasn’t any time left to fix things though, as a mild ‘ding’ announced the parting of the doors. The walk to her car was brief, and the slight beep and flash from the tail lights identified the magnificent car as her own.

“Okay, who’s sitting where?”

“How about you and dad in the front, and me and Emily in the back?” Mary suggested. “If we’re being honest here, I think your dad and Emily make a good combo in terms of sharing leg space.” Another jab to Emily’s pride, and yet again another hard truth. She really didn’t need all that much leg room…

There wasn’t much negotiation before they crowded into the vehicle. Joyce was in the driver’s seat, and beside her was Frank. Emily sat behind him, and Mary behind Joyce.

“Seatbelts on, everyone?” Joyce asked while checking her rearview.

“So where are we really going, though?” Emily asked. She knew she was told to pick a place, but it seemed like Joyce already had a destination in mind.

Joyce spoke as she pulled out of the space. “Dawn’s Diner I heard is pretty good. I’ve only stopped by for coffee every once in a while, though.”

“Nothing like a new restaurant for an adventure,” Joyce’s dad chuckled.

“Actually, Frank and Mary,” it felt a little weird using their names for the first time, “Aren’t you two tired at all?”

Mary briefly looked to Frank as if to get a mutual read. “I think we both got a good amount of sleep on the plane. Trust me, if we’re ready to turn in early, we’re gonna do so. But at least for today we wanted to maybe overexert ourselves just a little so we can all spend a full day together.”

“Really? I mean, I’m sure Joyce wouldn’t mind either if you wanted to sleep?”

Joyce smiled, knowing full-well how her mother would answer. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but we’d much rather spend the day with you guys. I’ve been waiting a while to meet you, you know?” Her sudden forwardness had Emily a little skittish. “Trying to get rid of us so soon?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that,” Emily tried her best to explain, completely oblivious to the joke.

“I’m only teasing. If we can go to bed at our usual time, then our sleep schedules should be safe. And also, I love your outfit by the way!” A tinge of fawning could be heard in her voice as Emily suddenly went back to her self-conscious mood. Still, she could probably consider herself lucky that she wasn’t called ‘cute’ for once, even if Mary probably was thinking it.

“So you said you haven’t been here your whole life?” Mary was the first to make small talk.

“No, I’ve been in Washington for most of it. Portland.”

“You never told me Portland before?” At the set of lights Joyce had a chance to turn her head back.

“Well I mean, it was only in the suburbs, so I guess there isn’t much to talk about?”

“What do you mean by most?” Frank kept the ball rolling. “Was there a third place?”

“Uh, I guess you could say so? Really early on I was in Japan. I was born there.”

“So you were born there? What’s it like there?”

“I was really young, so I don’t remember a lot...” Emily tried to blow some dust off her oldest memories. “It was really crowded when we went to the city, I think. It was also cleaner, too?” That last part was sort of a speculation. She just didn’t remember a lot of pollution in the past. That, and going off of what her relatives told her.

“So do you think you prefer it here than in Washington?” A brief moment went by. “Ah! Wait, that’s excluding Joyce though,” Mary stretched out an arm as if to block the visual from reaching her thoughts.

Helpless, Emily smiled as she tried to consider all the other benefits. “I mean, from the start distance was a huge thing for me… I haven’t been on my own out here for too long.” And here we are, being taken care of again. “But, as for New York, I really like all the different things going on, I guess. There’s a constant variety of stuff to lose yourself in and lots of people to meet. Also, it’s not the suburbs.”

“I think that’s a good way to put it,” Joyce chimed in.

“What about you guys? Have you always lived in California?”

“Just about. My husband and I were both born and raised there. Nothing too special about it!”

“That’s not true. I think you’ve just gotten used to living there?”

“Maybe you’re onto something?” Frank added, causing a small wave of random laughter.

“How about your parents? Are they still in Portland?”

“Yeah, last time I checked,” her voice came of a little plainly. “My dad used to be in the service, and my mom runs a salon.”

“Oooh,” Mary continued on with her fascination. Joyce was curious to listen too. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope. Just an only child. I think the closest I ever got was with a few cousins,” she laughed it off, hoping she didn’t sound like she was fishing for sympathy.

“Well...” Mary silently looked to the person sitting in front of her, and Joyce could practically feel her stare. “Believe me when I say that having two kids isn’t all sunshine and roses. Remember when you and John used to fight all the time?” The last bit she steered towards Joyce.

“Kind of, I guess,” Joyce didn’t think too fondly of looking back on the worst childhood memories. “We had our good moments, though.”

“Few and far between,” her dad chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joyce sounded to be a mix of genuine offense and tease.

“You two were like cats and dogs!” Mary finished for her husband. “I remember you two were fighting over something, and one of your dolls wound up cracking our tv screen!”

Frank sighed over the painful reminiscence. “That wasn’t a fun day...”

“No, it wasn’t,” Joyce agreed, already feeling the jagged memories cloud her mind. “Besides, he’s the one who threw a ball at me!” Joyce already started to ramble off, as if the altercation was just as fresh in everyone else’s minds as it was in hers.

“Whatever did happen,” Mary quickly dismissed Joyce’s unfinished business, “You two definitely mellowed out when you both got older.”

“Yeah, because we could learn to live with each other without needing to break something in the process...”

“Fair point, but you guys did have your good moments.”

“Plenty of ups and downs.”

It felt a little weird to ask, considering it might be considered disrespectful to John, but Emily asked anyways. “Joyce, did you ever wish you could be an only child?”

Everyone was quiet. Did she mess up? God! Why did she have to ask something so weird? Though, it turns out it was all in her head, because Joyce simply needed a moment to answer.

“There were definitely days where I could probably kill my little brother,” already a few days popped into her mind. “And a few days where he’d probably do the same to me. But no, I’ll always love my brother, and now that we’re adults I can actually stand being around him!” How she spoke on the last bit with enthusiasm had everyone chuckling.

“I kinda wish I knew what it was like...” Emily had an idea, going off of the cousins bit, but never had she ever spent a greater deal of her life, 24/7 under a roof with someone other than her two parents.

“Hang on now,” Joyce playfully warned. “I said it was nice, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t its bad parts either. Definitely a tradeoff. There’s stuff I envy about growing up as an only child too.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked. “We gave both of you plenty of attention!”

“You did, but of course it felt like you guys were taking sides at times.”

“We were perfectly fair!”

“So not true,” Joyce seemed to be headstrong. “You always took John’s side because he was younger! Admit it!”

“Maybe because he was a little younger, he got a bit more leeway, but that doesn’t mean I believed you any less!”

“Okay,” Joyce answered, still unconvinced. “But I mean, that’s not a totally bad thing. I was Dad’s favorite after all!”

“Ah, well,” Frank in a dumbstruck stupor tried to interject, but it was obvious he couldn’t get his bearings. “I loved you both just the same!”

“I don’t disagree with that,” Joyce said plainly, then had a mischievous smirk on her face. “But I was your favorite.”

“Hon, you always did have a soft spot for Joyce...”

“Well, maybe a little, but that’s only because you had one for John,” Frank said, quickly turning the tables.

“Oh don’t you start getting on my case now, too! Can you believe this man?” Mary turned over to Emily, who was trying not to laugh at their mini argument.

“Relax, relax!” Joyce commanded, halting the verbal tensions if for only a moment. “We all have favorites, but we all know that we love each other equally. I shouldn’t have even kept the ball rolling to begin with. Can we talk about something else?”

Silence lingered, only until Emily spoke up. “So what does John do?”

“John is an electrician. He’s been working for a few years at his current company right now.”

“Where does he live?”

“California. Same as us.”

“Nearby?”

“Maybe an hour long drive to get to him, but definitely manageable. Why?” Mary started to look enthusiastic. “Think you might be down for the next visit?”

“Uhm...well...” Unsure of how to respond, Emily clearly started to lose her voice.

Before Joyce could reel her mom back in, thankfully she kept herself in check. “Don’t worry about it, I know you two are still breaking each other in. Make sure the relationship works out before all the other stuff surrounding it.” Though, her face didn’t really seem to have any doubts about their future, and Emily couldn’t see much either…

“Okay kids, we’ve arrived!” Joyce announced as they pulled into a small lot.

“Thank goodness. I almost thought I’d have to eat Emily if I got too peckish back here!” Emily blushed a little as she looked out the window, rather than the doting mother.

“Thanks for putting up with me back there,” Frank said to Emily as he undid his seatbelt. “I know it isn’t a lot of legroom with me involved.”

“No! It’s fine, really,” Emily assured, as well as note that Mary’s thought process did work out pretty well.

Frank then in a hushed voice, but still clearly audible to everyone else, “And also, thanks for putting up with my wife back there, too!”

“Keep this up and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Did you feel how soft that thing was?”

Mary tried to seem stern, but they both started laughing.

“Come on, chop, chop,” Joyce clapped her hands. “We’re burning daylight here!”

In a few moments everyone was out of the car and walking to the diner’s entrance. The exterior looked like one of those old fashioned ones; single-story with a curved roof colored in a deep blue. The restaurant’s sign was done in neon and had a classic font to it. As soon as they stepped inside the distinct smells and flavors of any breakfast in existence wafted through their nostrils. Coffee and bacon grease were what they could smell first, and the endless clinks of silverware against plates filled the diner.

Behind the receptionist there was a classic looking countertop surrounding the centerpiece of the restaurant, which was the kitchen. Stools with bright red cushions protruding from them surrounded it, as a handful of people occupied its seats, and a good deal of people at the tables and booths.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The receptionist behind her wooden stand was already waiting for them.

“Hi,” Joyce started. “Could we get a booth for four of us?”

She took a moment to press a few things in her console. “Sure thing!” She leaned her head to scan the party of four briefly. Grabbing a few menus and bundles of eatery, she escorted them down the aisle.

Emily always hated this part. In especially a busy restaurant, the walk to your seat was always the worst. Filled with temptations and alluring sights and smells, it was a stroll that tortured your tastebuds with the things you did not have and would need to wait until the ends of time for. One couple had their coffee, eggs, bacon and toast. Another was eating grits and scrambled eggs. Hash browns! Syrup! Jam! Bagels! Emily had half a mind to plug her nose because she was near-mouth-watering at that point. She wanted to eat badly. Clearly she’d forgotten how hungry she was, because only when she saw what she didn’t have was when she really wanted it the most.

Their destination was a sizeable booth, and before anything could be done on Mary’s part, both Joyce and Frank had the unspoken understanding of what needed to be done.

“Emily why don’t you slide in first? I’ll be right next to you.”

“Hon, I’ll hop in first if you don’t mind.” Frank was already sliding in.

The way they were arranged had Emily in the deep part of the booth, with Joyce right next to her, and across from Emily was Frank. That meant diagonal to her was Mary.

“Alright, here you guys go...” The woman started passing out menus and bundles of forks and knives. “And whoops! Almost forgot,” she chuckled apologetically, then reaching into a pocket on her front apron, she placed a small box close to Emily. “Someone will be over soon to take your order for drinks. Enjoy!” She walked away, while everyone quickly figured out what was given to Emily.

“You have to be kidding me.” Emily by no means looked amused.

“Well,” Joyce sounded sympathetic. “Maybe it’s because you looked shorter compared to us three?”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better!” Emily complained, annoyed not at Joyce, but the situation. She held up the box for a brief second, then dropped it from the few inches it was suspended from the table. “Crayons? Really? Did I look that much like a kid to them?” This had never happened to her before! What could have swayed that woman’s mind? Was it her clothes? Did she look small compared to Joyce, Frank, and Mary? Why even bother asking? She knew it was true… She looked down at her yellow sundress, finding one more reason to hate it now.

“Can we send these back, please?” Emily gestured to the crayons.

“We can, but I mean there’s no harm in keeping them around?” Joyce said, trying not to make it seem like a big deal.

Emily trying to cheer herself up went back to the menu, only to be equally as disappointed.

“Joyce...” Emily nudged over to her.

“What’s up?” She looked over from her much more adult menu.

“They gave me a kids menu...” Emily looked clearly annoyed, and Joyce tried not to see the humorous irony in it all. Of course she would never tease Emily to a point where she hurt her feelings, but that’s why this was somewhat funny. Still, it probably didn’t feel too amazing on Emily’s part. It was pretty clear by this point what that woman thought about Emily’s age from a simple glance.

“Wanna look at my menu?”

“I kinda want my own.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if we ask for another?” Mary spoke up, quickly reminding Emily of who else was watching.

Sympathetic to her plights, but also wanting to give her some immediate relief, Joyce leaned a little closer as they both looked through her menu.

“What looks good?” Emily asked, still needing to catch up on the more adult selection.

“Simple stuff, I guess. Other things sound pretty interesting too. Sometimes I wish they’d give these menus displays like they do for the kids menu.”

Whether she agreed or not, Emily didn’t want a reminder of the waitress’ blunder, and kept looking on with Joyce. She felt guilty almost, but the pancakes still sounded just as delicious as they were yesterday morning.

“Huh, they’ve got a few breakfast sandwiches that look good,” Frank mused.

“Any sandwich in particular?” Mary looked over.

“I imagine they’re all pretty good. Though, knowing you, you’d probably just put ketchup on it?”

“And what’s wrong with ketchup?”

“Nothing at all, but you’re ruining the originality of a meal if you always add your comfort sauce to it.”

“I swear,” Mary caught Emily’s attention by chance. “He won’t let me live it down if I so much as put a speck of extra salt on the food that he makes.”

“I’m not that bad,” Frank turned to the smirking Emily as well, also using her as the middleman. “When I cook Emily, you can put on as much salt as you like, and pepper!” He looked back to Mary smugly.

“What am I going to do with you?”

The laughter came and went as everyone tried to compose themselves when the dedicated waitress came over. “Hi, how’s everyone doing today? My name’s Abigail and I’ll be your server.”

“Fine, thank you very much!” Frank answered, still high on the bubbly atmosphere. “What can we do for ya?”

“Frank!” In a hushed voice, Mary nudged his shoulder. “Quit teasing her!” She turned over to the slightly confused, but also smirking waitress. “Don’t mind him. He can tend to be like this...”

“Well, I’ll try my best,” she laughed, then pulled out a small notepad and paper. “Do you guys want to start off with some drinks?”

“I’d love some coffee, please, but,” Frank paused for dramatic effect. “Is the pot fresh?”

“I can brew a new one just for you?”

He leaned in close to the table. “I like this one, she’s a 20-percenter.”

Mary looked like she wanted to wallop him upside the head. From Emily’s angle, she could see she was holding the menu slightly above her mouth, which was currently smiling just as much as her dad’s. Emily always forgot to remind herself, but it really was like night and day with Joyce. She only had the beginning to compare to, but only when she was around familiar people (Emily included) could she really let herself go. Otherwise it was her tense, cool, and collected business self.

“Alright, coffee it is. How would you like it done?”

“Some milk and two sugars, please.”

She scribbled one last note. “And you, miss?” She was looking at Mary, who obviously was flattered by the comment. Then she whispered to Frank.

“Miss? Clearly she’s trying to get on our good side… I’ll have a coffee too, please.” She explained how she wanted it.

The waitress turned over to Joyce.

“Three for three, I guess. Coffee as well, please? I’ll just take mine black.” Her kind of order was probably a waiter’s godsend, considering it required no bells or whistles, and just pouring a substance into a cup.

“And last up is you, little miss!” Chipperly, she looked to Emily, who was trying not to blush.

She thinks I’m a kid too? Emily looked to the kids menu and the box of crayons, suddenly realizing how they forced the narrative too. She wanted to die on the inside, especially because there were three other people watching this all unfold.

“Oh, uhm, that reminds me,” Joyce interjected. “Could we get her an adult menu, please?”

“Sure, that shouldn’t be an issue.” Her simple response wasn’t what Emily was looking for. She didn’t seem surprised, shocked, or guilty. It wasn’t to her an adult being mistaken as a kid, but a parent trying to get their little one an adult menu they would have never gotten otherwise. The kind of expression she gave as she shifted back from Joyce to Emily soured the mood for her even more. She really was being looked down on.

Though, hopefully her choice in drink would change the waitress’ mind, or force her head out of the gutter. This would not go on for any longer, and it was about time Emily start steering the ship.

“I’ll have a coffee too, please.”

Emily nearly made a noise when she saw the waitress pause for the slightest moment, and silently look to Joyce with a tinge of uncertainty.

Did she really? Did she really just defer to Joyce as the decision maker?! On the more private days of the week, sure, Joyce was her… Mommy, but this wasn’t one of those times! She’s an adult goddammit! Emily didn’t know why she wasn’t starting an outburst by then, but of course she didn’t want to make a scene, even if all of this was beyond mortifying and frustrating. She didn’t think though that her stature and appearance would potentially prohibit her from caffeine!

Joyce blinked awkwardly for a moment, taking a second to realize what was happening. “O...oh, you think...” her voice trailed, but then was quickly refreshed. “Uhm, yes, she can.”

What was Joyce doing? This was her moment to clear up this whole misunderstanding! Her wandering eyes found Mary and Frank’s, who were either looking at the waitress or Joyce. Hell, Emily was thankful for the lack of attention, even if it were probably intentional. It was a passive comfort to know though that she could probably slip underneath the table and hide for the rest of the meal…

“Hon?” The cushy names from a stranger cut through Emily’s dignity like a knife, and she looked over to her, hoping her face wasn’t too red. “How would you like it?”

“Three sugars, please...”

“Alrighty,” she wrote a few more notes. Joyce had her hand on Emily’s thigh, and was rubbing it soothingly beside her. And it was a good thing she was, because Emily didn’t know how she would react otherwise, especially when the waitress said her next piece, specifically to Joyce. “Do you want me to get her something to go with it? Water, milk?”

Please, Joyce! Prove her wrong! Fix this stupid misunderstanding!

“How about milk, then?”

No, no, no, no!

“Milk it is!” Happily, she finished up her writing and slipped the pen back into her apron. “The wait shouldn’t be too long, and I’ll be right back with an extra menu.” With that she walked away, and as she did, Emily stared at Joyce with quite the opposite of enthusiasm.

“Why did you play along with her? She thinks I’m a kid!”

“I think she acted a tad bit differently to Em, too...” Frank added. Yes! Finally! Someone that was on her side!

“I know, I know, but I figured she’d be a lot more embarrassed than any one of us would be if it were in her shoes.” Really? She was more concerned about the waitress than her own girlfriend? How does that even work?

“Does it not matter how I feel?” Emily asked, obviously hurt.

“Of course it does,” Joyce gave her waist a squeeze, and Mary looked on sympathetically. “All I mean is, we all know it’s her mistake, which is why we all know you’re an adult. Besides, with how deep she’s into it now, I don’t think she’d ever live it down if she found out how she was treating you.”

“Does that mean I can?”

“It means that you have people to confide in. She doesn’t.”

“Really, Em, we know it’s her mistake,” Frank added. “Joyce does have a point though. That waitress would probably not be able to handle it as well as you can right now.”

So Emily was tough now because she was putting up with it? Maybe that was true in a way, but she didn’t like the idea of giving this woman a pass to walk all over her!

“Don’t you think it’s sort of funny, though?” Mary spoke up, garnering the attention of the table. “She really thought Emily was younger than all of us by quite a bit. You can really pull off a look, can’t you?” She seemed impressed as she looked to Emily.

Emily deeply exhaled through her nose, as popular opinion dictated the mood. No one here actually judged her for what happened, at least not negatively, and thankfully they didn’t see this in the light of Emily’s belittlement, rather the waitress’ mistake. Dearly she wanted to write this woman’s wrongs, but in a way Emily was being the bigger person by letting it slide, even if that meant being the smaller one…

“And hey, you have two drinks now, right? That’s a plus?”

Maybe. But it didn’t feel great as to how she got it. Apparently she was a kid that needed something to chase her caffeine. If she had it her way, this woman wouldn’t be getting as much as a cent for her tip. Yes she was bitter, and yes she was being unfair considering how much of a kid she probably did look like, but it didn’t change her feelings. Why was she getting so hung up on this? Was she supposed to be? Did it make her look bad? She didn’t know how to react, and that’s what made it so much worse. The only sense of reason she knew was reliable was to follow in Joyce’s stead.

“Oh, and also, Mom, Dad? What do you two say about doing something else after this?”

“I’m not sure...” Frank looked to Mary. “We’re awfully busy today...” His joking was obvious.

“Emily actually came up with the idea to go to the zoo yesterday.”

“Wh-huh?” The sudden credit caught her off guard. What would they think if she was the one who wanted to go to the zoo? “I mean, didn’t you say we should?”

Joyce smirked at Emily. “Alright, fine, it was our idea. What do you two think?”

“Sounds like fun! We haven’t been to one of those in a long time. Good idea, Emily.”

Emily tried to laugh it off, wondering why she still had a kids menu.

“Sorry for the wait,” Abigail, their waitress, came with a platter of four mugs and a glass. “Two with two sugars...” she placed the mugs in front of Mary and Frank. “One black,” a mug to Joyce. And of course her voice slightly changed when she was speaking to the little girl. “And finally one with three, and a glass of milk.” Thankfully she didn’t cheap out on the proportions, because they did look like normal drinks, but the accompanying milk didn’t make her feel so enthusiastic. How “lucky” was she though, getting permission from her “Mommy” to have coffee…

“So is everyone almost ready to order?” While she spoke, she also placed the fourth adult menu on the table, which was thankfully given to Emily. Way to leave her room to browse…

“Uhhh...” Joyce looked at Emily for a second. “I think we’re gonna need a few more minutes?”

“Sure thing, take your time.”

“Wait, am I the only one who still needs to pick?”

“Think so, but take your time, okay? Don’t rush.”

“Don’t worry Emily, we kinda got a headstart anyways,” Mary said as she set her menu down, and Frank as well.

“What are you guys getting?” Joyce made smalltalk.

“I’m gonna get a burger,” Frank already sounding satisfied answered. “I know we were doing breakfast, but a diner burger always sounds good to me!”

“I’m getting a breakfast sandwich,” Mary said contently. “With ketchup.” It wasn’t a mystery who the emphasis was directed towards. “How about you?”

“I think I’ll do some bacon, toast and eggs. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.” She leaned next to Emily. “And what are you liking so far?”

She wanted to be original, but of course her head was screaming pancakes. She was such a broken record… Topped with banana and strawberry, she was feeling helplessly tempted. Did they do chocolate chips too? Emily couldn’t help but feel compelled to ask…

“Hey Joyce?”

“What’s up?”

“Do you think they’d put chocolate chips in here?”

“I don’t see why they can’t… Is your sweet tooth kicking in?”

“...A little bit.” Emily almost looked sheepish.

“It sounds good to me. You’ll need to give me a bite, though.”

“Chocolate chip pancakes?” Frank asked. Emily was afraid how he’d react. “You can get them, but I’ll warn you,” he leaned in close. “Nothing you’ll ever eat will compare to mine!”

Emily looked to Joyce for confirmation.

“I can make some good pancakes, but who do you think I learned it from? Speaking of which, you’ll be cooking for us at least once, right?”

“Did you really think I’d let Emily miss out on my cooking?” Her dad asked with offense. “Why do you think John and Hannah are getting married?” He laughed with his deep voice, and Emily couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

“Sounds like you guys are ready to order?” Like clockwork, Abigail had made a round and came back with a notepad. Giving it a second to be refused, and when she wasn’t, she asked Mary first.

“I’ll have the Bootmill Breakfast Sandwich, please.”

“And what do you wanna do for a side?”

“Fries, please.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the Monday Burger with fries, please. Just a little pink in the center.”

“...Alrighty. And you miss?”

“Bacon, eggs, and toast, please? I’ll have the eggs over easy.” She smiled over to Emily. Every interaction she hated her more. “And how about you, hon?”

“She’ll have the short stack, please,” Joyce answered for her, and oddly enough Emily kind of appreciated it. Any moment where she didn’t have to deal with this woman was a blessing counted. Again, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with her, but they certainly did get off on the wrong foot. She was operating on adult time right now, and really did not appreciate trying to be told otherwise. “Do you think they could put chocolate chips in it, too?”

“That’s no problem, but...” the waitress politely asked for the kids menu. “It sounds like you’re describing this?” She pointed out a display, and as curious as Emily was, she dared not look.

“Oh? What’s the difference?”

“So the Jr. Stack has all that stuff with a little extra whipped cream. They’re sized just about the same as well. I’ll just put that down for the order.”

Emily must have mastered the art of meditation, or Joyce was truly a professional caretaker, because she was somehow able to keep herself together. She quietly took a sip from her heated mug.

“So one Bootmill Breakfast, Monday Burger, Bacon and Eggs, and a Jr. Stack?” The order was confirmed, and she walked on off.

“You’re a real trooper, Emily...” Frank reassured her as she walked away. It felt good to have allies…

Emily looked to Joyce, and she could tell there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. She didn’t think of it as cruel, though. The biggest reason why this rubbed Emily the wrong way was because she was trying to present herself in front of Joyce’s parents. This was a relationship between lovers, not a mother and daughter!

Joyce looked sheepishly to Emily. “I got you whipped cream?”

“You’re so making this up to me.”

 


Hey, we did it! 20 chapters! I don't know the word count right now, but I can grab it later. Sometimes I think this is moving too slow, but I'm having fun with it. I'd appreciate your 10 cents on that, though. Sorry if people felt like there wasn't so much babying-ness in this, but things should be increasing as time goes on. Hope you enjoyed reading, and please let me know what you thought!

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I loved this, especially because this chapter wasn't that out of the realm of possibility. I've seen friends get seen as younger like this many times before - good for her for going for the Chocolate chip pancakes. Worth going for the kids meal to have the whipped cream! I'm curious to see how much of little they figure out she is in the relationship before they leave. Somehow I'm guessing another stuffed animal is going to appear on the zoo trip!

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  • Mee changed the title to Sheltered [12/03/2023] CH46+47 [Important Subscribestar Update]

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