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Done Adulting, Volume 1 (Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2)


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"she just wanted Jamie to be that carefree."

This was the start point of a really magic moment in this chapter.  And you really made it bloom with the two paragraphs that followed.  And you created tension in a place where it seemed none would be, where Jamie was actually "being" Little, yet someone judged him (and Becky) for it.  

Brilliant, sir.  Brilliant.  

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I just had to get this out of me.

_______________________________________________________________

Chapter 16

 

“How are you feeling,” Amanda asked.

 

“Fine, really.”

 

“You were better at lying when you got here. Or I’m better at seeing through you. It’s okay to be nervous.”

 

“It really is fine. It’s just for a day. Not even a whole day.”

 

“But it’s the first time you won’t be with either me or Mom.”

 

“I know. Would you feel better if I was more upset about it,” Jamie asked. Because I can do that easily, he thought. He was more afraid than he wanted to let on. He didn’t feel safe in this place yet; he felt safe with two of the people in this place.

 

“Of course not. Let’s get you dressed. Grandma will be here soon. By the way, her name is Dana, but don’t use it.”

 

“Will do. Thanks for the bath. I know you need to leave soon.”

 

“How else would I rather spend my morning than with you? Any preference on what you wear today?”

 

“Think we’ll go anywhere?”

 

“No. You’re probably be in the house for the day.’

 

“Pajamas then, I guess.”

 

“I hear ya. Pants suck.”

 

As she was getting him dressed, he asked her what he’d been wondering since his party. “Why did you tell me I’d like her?”

 

“Well, I didn’t want to prejudice you; then there’d be no chance of you getting along.” That at least made sense.

 

“I wish I hadn’t made fun of her that day.”

 

“Well, you learned a life lesson then.” The doorbell rang. “You just be the charmer you are, and you’ll win her over.” She paused and decided to add, “And if not, it’s only for part of the day. Walk or carry?”

 

“Walk.” He wanted to appear as mature as he could in his pajamas and crinkly underwear.

 

They went to the front door together. He put his politest smile on, and Amanda did the same before she opened the door. “Good morning, Grandma!” She stepped aside to let her grandmother in.

 

“Good morning, Amanda. Jamie.”

 

“Good morning, ma’am.” She looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

 

“He’s had his bath and his breakfast and just got changed. The important numbers are on the fridge. Is there anything else you need?”

 

“No, I think I have everything. We’ll make do.” There was curtness in Dana’s voice.

 

She knelt down and took Jamie into a full hug. “You be good today. Mom will be home around lunch.” She kissed him on the forehead and lingered, looking at him a moment longer.

 

“Ahem. Won’t you be late,” Dana reminded her granddaughter.

 

“Right,” she said standing up. “Thanks again, Grandma. We really appreciate it.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Dana had a hand on the open door. With a look at Jamie, Amanda took her backpack and left. It was just an orientation day; Amanda was leading freshman sessions all day. Classes were still five days away.

 

Dana closed the door and looked down at Jamie. He looked back at her, keeping his thin but genuine smile. He wanted nothing so much as a positive relationship with Dana; he didn’t know how much time he’d be spending with her, but he knew moms of moms were de facto babysitters. He anticipated seeing her more with school back in session.

 

“Well, I see my daughter didn’t bother to dress you today. No surprise.” Jamie’s instinct was to defend Becky, and Amanda, but he didn’t want a nasty, behind-the-back comment to derail things already. He wasn’t sure what to say or do next; he wanted to just walk away and go find something to do, but something about her made him reluctant to. He didn’t wait long until she bent down and picked him up.

 

Instead of putting him on her hip or shoulder or cradling him, she held him under the armpits and turned him around. No one had done this to Jamie yet; there was nothing gentle about it. He heard her sniff deeply. “At least you’re clean. We’ll see how long that lasts.” She turned him back around and put him on her hip, carrying him into the kitchen.

 

Jamie just sat there wondering what her problem was. Amanda had just told her she had bathed and changed him. He felt awkward in the silence. She set her purse on the counter and Jamie in his high chair, buckling him in. He hadn’t been buckled in in weeks.

 

He watched her cluck around the kitchen, scoffing and wiping at the counter with a sponge. Done cleaning up messes only she could see, she took a bottle and formula from the cabinet.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am, I already had breakfast.” It didn’t even slow her down. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m actually still full.”

 

“Hush, baby. I know what you need.” She proceeded to make a full liter-bottle of formula and put it on Jamie’s tray. As much as he liked formula, he had no appetite for it right then. Dana picked up the sponge and proceeded to wipe down the stove top and the fronts of the appliances, then put the sponge in the dishwasher. Only after did she turn her attention back to Jamie.

 

“You need to eat. You’re too thin.” She nudged the bottle toward him. That she wore a smile the entire time was more off putting than the way she ignored what she’d been told by Amanda or by him. She stared not in expectation but in smiling certainty.

 

“Again, that’s very sweet of you. I had breakfast, and even when I do have a bottle that’s much more than I can eat at one time.”

 

“Oh, I see.” There was a lilt to her voice as she unbuckled him and put him back on her hip, carrying him into the living room.

 

“Oh, good. It’s not that I’m not appreciative. I’m actually glad we have this time together. I wanted to whoa!” He was cut off she sat down and shift him into a cradling position in her right arm. The bottle was at his lips. He didn’t open.

 

She bounced him uncomfortably in her arm to urge him on. “It’ll make you big and strong.” Thinking she might stop if he drank a little, he took the nipple and slowly took some swallows.

 

After five, he opened his mouth, but she didn’t take the bottle out. He tried to talk around it. “Dank u, weally, dis is vewy good, but I’ve had enuf.”

 

She slapped the outside of his right thigh in response and said, “Enough of this nonsense. You’re going to drink this whole thing.” It hurt and shocked Jamie; it hurt his feelings too. Any hope he’d had of using the day to start a friendship with her evaporated. Fearing she’d hit him again, he started drinking again. He could only go so fast.

 

There was something different about Dana. So far, he’d met inconsiderate Bigs, Little crazy Bigs, and kind Bigs. It was apparent she wasn’t the latter, but neither was she the two former. She didn’t seem blinded to him because he was a Little. She just seemed not to care. Except she did, in her way, or she wouldn’t be insisting on feeding him and complaining about his outfit.

 

“I know you can drink faster than that.” Was she really serious, or was this some sick game to her? He couldn’t see what she was getting out of this. From the moment she walked in the door, she’d taken an issue with everything she laid eyes on, even Amanda. He’d never been more polite with her than anyone since he arrived. Jamie tried to drink faster, but he was now feeling sick. Finally he pushed the bottle away, trying to catch his breath. She let him, and then she brought the nipple back to his lips.

 

“Please,” he pleaded, turning his head and pushing her hand away as she tried to maneuver it back into his mouth. With an exasperated sigh, she stopped trying and put the bottle down on the coffee table hard.

 

“Fine. Have it your way. I tried to do what’s best for you. Maybe a timeout will adjust our attitude.” She wasn’t exactly raising her voice, but it was elevated, and definitely angry well beyond reason. So he didn’t finish a bottle? So what?

 

She lifted and gripped him under the arm pits. Her hands dug in, reminding Jamie of the time he sprained his ankle and was on crutched for a time. She put him in the playpen.

 

To Jamie, it was a relief. He liked nothing about her or being held by her. She’s just mean, he concluded. He thought back to the party. She didn’t seem to genuinely enjoy herself; maybe at points, but on the whole, not. Becky seemed to behave differently around her that day; her mood changed when doorbell rang. Jane was surprised she had even come, and when she said so, Becky seemed offended. She seemed to walk on eggshells around her. When Jamie and Dana had their little contest of words, it was Amanda, not Becky, who swept in to end it. Jamie had seen enough bad family dynamics to know something was wrong.

 

Through the mesh, he watched her bring her purse back to the living room, turn on the TV, and pull knitting project out. Jamie looked around his playpen. He hadn’t left anything in it, even a blanket. With nothing else to do, he tried to sleep.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he tried. The TV was on. He was cold. He sat up, and once more in his politest tone asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, may I have a blanket please.” She only glanced over.

 

“You have your pajamas on. You’re fine.”

 

Might as well be asking Bumble for more gruel, he lamented. He sighed loudly, trying to breathe through his anger. That, unfortunately, got her attention. “Don’t you dare cop that attitude with me! I’ll win, and you’ll lose.”

 

Jamie was disgusted with her. He had empathy for a lot of people; it was necessary in the work he’d done. People did things out of ignorance or misguided belief. Rarely did he meeting someone who was just plain cruel. He could forgive a lot; he was willing to give almost anybody a second chance. Not people who hurt the defenseless just because they could. He had no room in his heart to forgive those kinds. He didn’t consciously think it, but a part of him realized that’s what he was: defenseless. He laid back down.

 

Between breakfast #1 and breakfast #2, his bladder kept him from getting comfortable no matter how many times he emptied it. Over the past few weeks, he’d stopped trying to time that for specific times when he was home; he never had to wait long for a change. Away from home was a different matter. Not having left the house much still, he managed to avoid public changes by holding it.

 

Trying to warm himself up, Jamie turned onto his side and brought his knees closer to his chest. Once more, he let his bladder drain. The side of him exposed to the room was cold, so he rolled over. When he did, he felt the cooler air on the outside of the thigh he’d been resting on. Reaching over to rub some warmth into it, his hand came away wet. Now he had to interact with her, and in the most humiliating way he could think of, other than if he had done the other thing. He stood up and put his head over the top of the playpen.

 

“Excuse me,” he closed his eyes and opened them again, forcing himself to say the next part. “I’m very wet. Could you please change me?” It was all he could not to spit the words out like poison. Not that he had to ask for a change, but that he had to ask her. If after he was dry he’d never need to ask her for anything again, he’d have been content.

 

“After the show is over.”

 

Perhaps she didn’t understand how wet. “I, um, leaked. My pajamas are wet, too.”

 

“James, sometimes you have to wait until it’s convenient for a Big, not you. Bigs don’t exist just to take care of Littles. Just sit down, and I’ll change your diaper when I’m ready.”

 

Embarrassment gave way to anger, and his ineffectualness to do anything about that anger gave way to dejection. He sat down, which cause a little more to leak. He was disgusted. At least in a diaper he didn’t feel it. It was warm and wet, then warm and dry against his skin. Now he was cold and wet.

 

He waited probably another twenty minutes, into the closing credits of one show and the opening of the next. He swallowed that down. But then he had to pee again. He stood back up.

 

“Excuse me, but this is getting urgent.” She looked from her knitting to the TV. He wanted to get her attention. “Mrs. Dana?” He got it.

 

She dropped her knitting and stomped to the playpen. Jamie backed up as far as he could, terrified of what she was going to do. “You are the most disrespectful Little I have ever met!” She screamed at him like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “If you can’t behave and do a you’re told, you can spend the rest of the morning in your crib until Becky gets home.” She picked him up again, a little harder under the armpits this time, and carried him at half-arms’ length to his room. Jamie feared worse if he said or did anything, so he tried to just be limp. She dumped him in his crib.

 

“You know what the problem is, is you think you’re back wherever you came from. But you’re not. You’re just a Little here. You need to understand that, so help you figure that out …” Dana turned each of Cheryl’s pictures face down, and worse, she snatched his bear out of his crib. “I’m getting rid of this. We’ll find you a new one, from here.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.

 

Jamie hadn’t felt this tangled mess of negative emotions in a long time. Fear, anger, impotence, grievance, sadness, hurt. He wasn’t even sure at which point he started crying. He threw himself down on the mattress and put his face in a pillow.

 

As he lay there stewing, he thought on Dana’s words, and suddenly he realized she may be doing something to his bear. Tearing it apart, cutting it to pieces, throwing it out with the garbage. The more he thought on it, the more sure he was that’s what she was doing. It was just the kind of thing someone like Dana would do, probably convinced she was doing it to help him, whether she knew how cruel it was and did it anyway or if her cruelty was so much a part of her she didn’t even realize what she was doing to him.

 

­­­­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hi, I’m …” Becky’s heart leapt to her throat as her ears were assaulted by Jamie’s hysterical sobbing.

 

Her voice filled with alarm, she raised it to be heard, “WHAT’S HAPPENING? WHY IS HE SCREAMING?” Becky didn’t wait for an answer; she dropped her purse and quick-stepped to Jamie’s room. He quieted down when she came in but didn’t stop sobbing. She scooped him up immediately, put him on her shoulder, and rubbed his back trying to soothe him. Dana walked in casually.

 

“What happened?” Becky was trying to hold back judgment.

 

“Someone is learning a lesson about being disrespectful to Bigs.”

 

“What?”

 

“He needs to learn he’s here now and stop trying to be something he isn’t.”

 

“I can barely hear you.” Becky turned back to the crib and picked up the blanket, looking for Jamie’s bear. She knew it would soothe him. “Where’s his bear?”

 

“I took it.”

 

“WHAT!?! WHY!?!”

 

“He’s not going to figure out his place if reminders of his past are everywhere. We’ll get him a new bear from here.”

 

No longer trying to withhold judgment, she shouted in anger and to be heard above Jamie. “MOM!” Becky raised her voice above Jamie’s. “WHERE IS HIS BEAR?”

 

“It’s in the kitchen.”

 

Becky brushed past her mother and into the kitchen. The bear was on the counter. Jamie’s eyes were shut so tight he didn’t see. Becky picked it up and held it up near Jamie’s face, its fur brushing his cheek. Jamie, recognizing his bear’s fur, pushed himself off Becky’s shoulder, grabbed the bear, and fell back onto Becky’s shoulder with the bear crushed between them.

 

“Here you go, baby,” she cooed, “it’s alright now. Mama’s back and your bear is just fine. Shh, shh.” Jamie’s sobbed calmed down to a soft whimper. He was no longer afraid, but he felt wounded. He hadn’t ever been so afraid, and for so many reasons.

 

Becky kept shushing him, carried him gently back to his room, and set Jamie in his crib, patting his bottom out of habit. “Ugh, Mom, his pajamas are soaked, too.”

 

“You’re just enabling him. He’s never going to learn his place…”

 

Becky had had all she could take. “THIS IS HIS PLACE, MOM!

 

She shooed Dana into the hallway. Dana threw up her hands as though she was so misunderstood and mistreated. Becky closed the door most of the way. “What the hell happened?”

 

Dana recounted her version of the story. “So I took the bear. And he’d be fine if you didn’t coddle him.” She sounded so satisfied with herself.

 

“Does he sound fucking fine to you! What the hell were you thinking?”

 

“Rebecca, he’s a very rude Little boy, and your behavior right now is as bad his. I …”

 

“OUT!”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“GET OUT! Go home. I will call you later.”

 

“You’re …”

 

“YES! GO!. I will call you later.”

 

Dana walked to the front door without another word and left. When the front door closed, Becky went back into the room and crossed to the crib in a single step, picking up Jamie and clutching him to her, once more with the bear pinned between them.

 

Jamie had heard the entire exchange. The yelling frightened him; he’d not heard Becky raise her voice before. But she had stood up for him in the most difficult way she could. Still with tears in his eyes, still feeling the trauma of nearly losing his bear and the fear of what else Dana might have done, he felt a new closeness to Becky, and new respect. As much as she pressed him into her shoulder, he pressed back into her.

 

When the two of them were calm, she pulled off his wet pajamas and laid him on the changing table. He didn’t have much energy to help her. She lifted him up to get the overused diaper off him and began to wipe him down. She rolled him to his side. She saw a pink area, very light but easy to see the handprint. Nothing in all, her life, not in twenty years as a mother, hurt as bad as this. It felt like someone was squeezing her heart. Her diaphragm cramped, and she sucked in air in painful swells. Her tears made his start again. She lifted him up, and he wrapped his legs around. He didn’t care if he was naked. They each had something they needed to give the other; Rebecca sank to the floor, holding him tighter than she ever had.

 

They stayed liked that until they were both sure the other had cried all the horrible feelings out.

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My reaction to Hell Bitch

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I'm trans and nuerodevelopmentally disabled....

I recognize a bigot when I see one...

Fuck that shit....

.....

....

Jesus h tap dancing Christ...

Not even 8:30 am and I feel like I need a drink

*flips furniture and walks out*

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28 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

My reaction to Hell Bitch

giphy.gif

giphy.gif

giphy.gif

I'm trans and nuerodevelopmentally disabled....

I recognize a bigot when I see one...

Fuck that shit....

.....

....

Jesus h tap dancing Christ...

Not even 8:30 am and I feel like I need a drink

*flips furniture and walks out*

Yeah I wrote this thing about sending the power rangers and their giant robots to spank her forever but kind of decided it was a bit..meh so I deleted that bit of my post.  But yeah.

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5 minutes ago, Sarah Penguin said:

Yeah I wrote this thing about sending the power rangers and their giant robots to spank her forever but kind of decided it was a bit..meh so I deleted that bit of my post.  But yeah.

Would be a ton of fun using mechs against amazons....

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5 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

Would be a ton of fun using mechs against amazons....

I wonder if there's a diaper dimension mod for a mech game, where lost plots don't die they get adopted and show up maybe in reports perhaps in background with amazons carrying them around...

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7 minutes ago, Sarah Penguin said:

I wonder if there's a diaper dimension mod for a mech game, where lost plots don't die they get adopted and show up maybe in reports perhaps in background with amazons carrying them around...

I'd rather set my reactor to overload.....

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I'm not surprised by any of that after the way you introduced the witch. Going to take a lot for both Jamie AND Becky to be separated a daycare or something soon. That was pretty ominous about Amanda going back to school before, so we know it's coming. Hopefully maybe the new friend they made at the park may have some ideas...

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Okay, so this is going to be my first negative critique.  Take it with a grain of salt, or not.  

Chapter 16 felt like a deus ex machina to me, in its entirety.  Amanda and Becky both know their mother didn't like Jamie, was openly hostile to him at the party, yet they reach back and have her babysit him?  And then, of course, she's a complete bitch to him the entire time she's present, engaging in wantonly cruel, abusive, and neglectful behavior because she thinks he needs to learn his place? And, despite knowing full well that Becky will be coming home at lunchtime to check up on him, she leaves him in a state that her daughter would completely disapprove of, and instead of even attempting to concoct a cover story, she just repeats the same mantra she gave Jamie with no real explanation of any kind of behavior that she perceived would necessitate her extreme cruelty. 

All to create a scenario where Becky could be the white knight and ride to his rescue.  

The rescue scene was well executed.  But the evil dragon felt more like a cardboard cutout to me. 

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And, I just realized, it would be very unfair of me to just unload on you like that without offering some suggestions for how to fix it:

1) Okay, so grandma is a spectacular bitch.  As I said earlier, my grandmother was pretty much the same.  Except my grandmother wasn't stupid.  She would have teased and tortured the kid until he lost his shit, then claim that she was only punishing him because he threw a tantrum.  

2) Or, maybe grandma wanted to wantonly torture him, but again, she wouldn't be dumb about it - she would have made sure she passed the kid over to Becky clean, dry, and with no appearances of harm, and make Jamie tell Becky later how horrible she was, so she wasn't there to catch the immediate blowback.  Also, Grandma has plausible deniability in this scenario - she can stake out the position that Jamie made all that nonsense up.

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5 minutes ago, WBDaddy said:

And, I just realized, it would be very unfair of me to just unload on you like that without offering some suggestions for how to fix it:

1) Okay, so grandma is a spectacular bitch.  As I said earlier, my grandmother was pretty much the same.  Except my grandmother wasn't stupid.  She would have teased and tortured the kid until he lost his shit, then claim that she was only punishing him because he threw a tantrum.  

2) Or, maybe grandma wanted to wantonly torture him, but again, she wouldn't be dumb about it - she would have made sure she passed the kid over to Becky clean, dry, and with no appearances of harm, and make Jamie tell Becky later how horrible she was, so she wasn't there to catch the immediate blowback.  

All I can say is you'd understand if you knew the person the character was modeled on and the relationship between that person and her children and grandchildren, which I'm describing more in the next chapter.

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5 minutes ago, Author_Alex said:

All I can say is you'd understand if you knew the person the character was modeled on and the relationship between that person and her children and grandchildren, which I'm describing more in the next chapter.

Fair enough.  I was pretty sure my grandmother was the worst grandmother in the history of extended families, but apparently you've experienced worse.  I'll shut up and let you paint me a more complete picture.  

However... that still wouldn't explain why Becky left him with her alone, knowing what kind of bitch she was.

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3 hours ago, WBDaddy said:

 

However... that still wouldn't explain why Becky left him with her alone, knowing what kind of bitch she was.

I probably should have posted this and chapter 16 as one chapter. While the events of chapter 16 do move the plot forward slightly, the purposes of that chapter and 17 are more thematic explorations of the twin wonderful and horrible potential of the parent-child relationship and a continuation of the theme of forgiveness. And I don't think enough page time has been devoted to helping us understand Becky.

I think I'm making out the person who I modeled Dana on to be more a villain than she deserves. I don't think she'd every deny a blanket or not change a leaking diaper, but other than that, all of what I describe below is based on facts (even the waiting at the end of the street thing), my interpretation of this person's motives, and the psychology of this person's children. She's not a bad person; just misguided and self-centered. I do forgive her. She's more deserving of pity than scorn.

And for the record, once when babysitting us overnight, she did take my sister's comfort stuffy because she thought she was too old for it (5, I think); she did believe she was right to do so; she did this without discussing it with our parents; she did show no concern at my sister's utter distress; and she did not give it back until my parents picked us up. She didn't hide what she'd done because she believed she'd done the right thing. My mother wouldn't speak to her for two months; my father tried to explain it away, which I believe he did successfully, but only to himself. The cycle continues thirty years later.

Anyway, Chapter 17

_________________________________________________

 

Chapter 17

 

 

“Hey!” Amanda called out as she entered the house. She’d been looking forward to this all day. Daydreaming at school, she pictured walking in the door and Jamie running into her arms. Instead she found her mom and Jamie on the couch. He was resting her head on her chest with his eyes closed, his paci in his mouth, and his bear next to him. An empty bottle was on the coffee table. Those weren’t the pajamas she put him in this morning. And her mom’s eyes looked red. Her mom held a finger to her lips. Amanda felt her stomach drop.

 

Amanda set her bag down gently and sat next to her mother. “What happened,” she whispered. After the Becky and Jamie had calmed down, she gave him a bath while he told her all about it. Once he was dressed, she made him a bottle one-handed while she held him. Once finished, he eagerly took his pacifier and fell asleep on her. Becky recounted the story in as even a voice as she could.

 

Amanda lost a few tears and shook her head. “Hateful bitch,” she muttered. When she was old enough to understand, Amanda had watched her mother’s relationship with her grandmother in dismay. She never got the full story of her childhood, but she had enough pieces of it to know it hadn’t been a happy one.

 

She didn’t know her grandmother’s moods were so volatile; that she was a perfectionist; a constant victim. She’d never once believed she was wrong in her life, not in what she did or said or believed. She berated her husband and children. Her default parenting method was screaming. She kept everyone in the house on eggshells. Even her husband was cowed by her.

 

Amanda had learned, from Danny and in secrecy, that for an entire summer when they were around elementary age, Dana would go to the end of the street every afternoon and wait for her husband to pull in. He’d roll down his window, and she’d tell him every thing the kids had done wrong that day. Not much of it was wrong; most of it was age-appropriate behavior that simply violated her sense of decorum. Running in the house; using outside voices whether inside or out; getting dirty; not eating food they didn’t like or even when they just weren’t hungry. These were all indications to her that her kids did not know their place, itself a form of the worse sin of not respecting their mother and all she did for them.

 

To Dana, children were not children; they were defective adults. Therefore their opinions, even about themselves, were only valid if they agreed with hers. If they disagreed, it was worse than defiance. It was an accusation of what a bad mother she was; if they did it front of others, it was a deliberate attempt to humiliate her and stomp on the image of the perfect family she tried so hard to show the world but that she herself constantly undermined with her own behavior.

 

She’d shift from the unquestioned authority who always knew what was right to the unappreciated mother who could never do anything right for her kids. In between the extremes was a display of anger bordering on rage. She was an emotional blackmail artist, and she was spectacular at it. What made her so good at it was she believed every it all; it was a performance, but it was not an act. She always did what was right; the kids were always wrong; no one ever appreciated her; and the hurt she honestly felt elicited guilt and shame in her kids, especially Becky.

 

Amanda knew some of that; she didn’t know all of it. If she did, she might have understood how her mother, more than twenty years removed from her childhood, was still seeking her own mother’s approval. She never stopped trying to please her, but worse, as Amanda saw it, was the perpetual cycle of hurt and forgetting. Becky would be the dutiful daughter, try to show her mother love, and she’d come away hurt, only to go back again.

 

Amanda remembered one Harvest Day when she was maybe 9. She’d been put to bed, but she could hear her grandmother yelling again. She didn’t know what set it off, but her grandmother recited a thirty-years-long list of everything Becky had ever done to disappoint her. She held a grudge like it was heirloom jewelry.

 

Becky was distraught for a week, but within three she was talking with her mother again, trying once more to win her approval not in spite of what her mother had done but as though it had never happened. She blocked that part of the day from her mind; it became to her another in a long line of wonderful family holidays.

 

Becky didn’t forgive her mother; she so badly wanted to believe her mother loved her, was proud of her, accepted her that it was as though her brain willfully forgot or at least subsumed the negative memories so that in her mind there was nothing to forgive, and soon again, Becky was back with her hand out and her heart on her sleeve, trying one more to get that approval. She never did believe that her mother was just not a good person because she didn’t want to believe that. If she had, she may have finally realized the approval of a person like that is not worth having.

 

Amanda knew her grandmother was unkind, but not that she was cruel. Becky never told Amanda because she hadn’t allowed herself to believe it. So Amanda only saw the cycle of a child seeking acceptance from her parent. She understood the dynamic: you can abuse a dog, and it will come back to you anyway. So, too, with some parents and children. It was hard for Amanda to watch and would have been harder if she knew the entire history. She acted as a buffer when she could; if she had known, she’d have acted as a barrier instead. But ultimately, the relationship was between Becky and Dana. Only they could fix, or more likely leave it behind or good.

 

If Jamie knew, he’d forgive her. How much easier his job would have been if the children he pulled from abusive homes did not love their parents. How much easier it would have been to keep them separated if the parents did not believe they loved their children. Not knowing, he forgave her anyway.

 

Amanda sat in silence questioning how to put a stop to the pattern they seemed stuck in with Jamie. Having reached the point where everything worked so well between the three of them, it seemed they couldn’t have someone to their home or leave their home but that Jamie was made in lesser or greater degrees to feel as though he wasn’t understood or seen or respected. In a few days, she’d be in class and her mom would be at work, and Jamie would be among strangers. Whereas she had felt nervous before today, she now felt frightened. If he was only safe in their home, Amanda knew, then no, they wouldn’t be able to help him.

 

“Mom, why don’t you go take a shower? Maybe a nap, too. I’ll take him.” Becky acquiesced and passed Jamie’s sleeping body to Amanda.

­­­­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

That evening, Becky let Jamie stay up late. He finally saw the night sky unfiltered through a window.

 

Dana called Amanda. She ignored the call. Dana texted her; there was no apology in it; just more bullshit about Jamie needing to forget who he was and accept what he is. “That’s what you do with Littles,” it read. Amanda blocked her number.

 

The house phone rang. It was Daniel. “Hey, Big Sis. Mom just tried to give me an earful.” He sounded chipper; he understood everything Amanda did not. She tried to protect him all those years, and in return he tried to make her feel all the things she should have felt from her mother and emotionally absent father.

 

“Yeah, what’d she have to say.”

 

“No idea. I cut her off.”

 

“And?”

 

“And told her whatever happened, I’m on your side.”

 

Becky’s voice quivered. “I love you, Danny.”

 

“I love you, too, Beck. You’ll call me if you need anything?”

 

The words felt so good they hurt. Becky held her breath to let the emotion pass, and taking in one breath of air answered, “Yes.” She cleared her nose.

 

“Listen. Laurie and I’ve been talking. We want to be more involved. Can we talk about it this week?”

 

“Of course. Always.”

 

“Alright. Talk to you soon, Sis. Give him a kiss for me.” Danny hung up; Becky put the phone down. Her throat hurt from the stone lump that had been there since she got home. It was late.

 

The three of them had no interest in mourning. Slowly, they found reasons to laugh together. They ended up on the floor of Jamie’s room, all of them building with his blocks.

 

The phone rang again. It was too late for anybody to be calling.

 

“You don’t have to tonight, Mom.”

 

Jamie felt self-conscious. That little part of us that survives childhood and in our worst moments tries to tell us things were our fault did its job, though Jamie consciously felt no such doubt.

 

Becky hadn’t been sure what she’d say to her mother that afternoon when she threw her out. Her instinct those hours ago was to try to teach her mother what she had done wrong, try to reason with her, try to smooth things over and move on.

 

Becky looked at the home they were building together. She answered the phone.

 

“We’re done. You’re not welcome in this house, near me, near Amanda, or near Jamie.”

 

She hung up. Amanda reached over and patted her mother’s knee. Jamie knew what a hard thing that was to do.

 

Becky had a lot to say to her mother if she cared to say it. She didn’t care to; she said only what was important. She had absorbed a lot of hurt over her years from the one place she was supposed to receive only love. Why she’d been willing to do it, or even that she had been an unconsciously willing participant in it, she didn’t understand. If Dana had transgressed against her alone one more time, nothing would have changed. She’d be upset only so long as it took her brain to push the memory under the part of her that made her want what she never would get from her mother. It had blinded her to the dangers of trying to make Dana a part of Jamie’s life. She was more mad at herself than her mother.

 

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m so sorry.” No tears, just soft words.

 

Jamie moved over to Becky and hugged her. He knew what she needed to hear. He gave it to her not because she needed it, though, but because he wanted to give it. “I forgive you.”

 

It has a power, forgiveness. It’s different than love, an expression of love. Only if we love ourselves can we forgive ourselves, yet for all the parts of our souls we cannot mend, forgiveness gives those we love the power to heal. We cannot ask it; it can only be offered; and having been offered, it heals only if we accept it.

 

This is one of our needs. At least one and god willing many who see us for what we are and are not, forgive what we do and do not, our faults and defects, because in their great love for us, they offer us their mercy and absolution.

 

Jamie knew this; he gave so freely of this grace, he could even forgive Dana. He did. But he would not forget.

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Frankly Danna still scares the piss out of me. She's got exactly the kind of personality where I could see her doing the books at some generic death camp.... And well my brain can't see fascists or people with that same basic personality makeup as anything other than a threat..... Because not recognizing a threat like that in time could literally get me killed. I don't hate Danna but I will always see her as potentially dangerous, even if only directly. Because I know that if it's a situation where the people in black SUVs and 2&1/2 ton trucks are going door to door, she's the one that would narc.....

@Author_Alex

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Woohoo go Becky! That would be so hard to cut Dana out of her life....yeah she's toxic but she's also her mother, you know? Definitely the right choice, but not an easy one!

Also Woohoo Alex! Thanks for such speedy posts! I'm excited each time I get an email saying there's been another!!

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1) You are absolutely correct, the first half of 18 should have been the second half of 17.  My previous complaint would not have happened, because the backstory and the motivations are all there now.  And yes, she actually sounds exactly like my grandmother now, and Becky exactly like my mother, except my mother not only didn't stand up to my grandmother to protect me, she perpetuated that toxicity until I finally cut her out of my life at age 42, after contributing greatly to the destruction of my third marriage.

2) I'm back to the gushing.  That was beautifully executed.  I might be biased, because I did exactly what Becky did, though I did it in a much more thorough fashion, with a manifesto that started with shoving a mirror in her face to see what she had become, then informing her that contact was not welcome and would not be accepted, that if she so much as tried to set a foot on my property I'd have her arrested for trespassing, and that the next time we were present in the same room would be at her wake.

I don't regret a word of it, and to be honest, I haven't even given it much thought until reading these things.  Thank you for daring to be so provocative.

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That was good as always I wonder though if she'll show up sometime with a Amazon powerpoint presentation detailing precisely how they've disrespected her and her unique and perfect self ever since day one.

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18 minutes ago, Sarah Penguin said:

That was good as always I wonder though if she'll show up sometime with a Amazon powerpoint presentation detailing precisely how they've disrespected her and her unique and perfect self ever since day one.

No worries on that front. Old people of that generation can’t work PowerPoint.

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Ya’ll get three updates in less than 24 hours. Because this is what I wanted to do today. I hope you got to do what you wanted today, too.

Have a great Monday.

____________________________________________________________

Chapter 18, Part 1

 

 

Everyone slept in late the next morning, Jamie especially. Amanda went to get Jamie out of bed.

 

“Rise and shine!” Jamie was already awake and sitting upright against the bars in the corner of his crib.

 

“Morning, Manda. Shouldn’t you be at school?”

 

“I told them I couldn’t finish orientation.” Jamie wasn’t so keen on that idea. He didn’t know what all she got for that job, but even if it were nothing, he didn’t want to be an interruption. Amanda and Becky had lives prior to him. Their lives shouldn’t have to revolve around me, he thought. She lowered the rail.

 

“Um, why did you do decide to do that?” He’d gone to sleep in just a diaper last night. He’d used it once during the night and once after waking up. Amanda picked him up and placed him on the changing table.

 

“Because I’d rather spend the last few days of summer with you,” she said as she cleaned him up. “Hmm.”

 

“What?”

 

“You need to drink more.” She showed him the inside of his diaper. He could see she was right. “Let’s go somewhere today. You up for it?”

 

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

 

“We thought we’d meet Jane at the park with Rosie and then after you guys got to play for a while, we’d go find lunch somewhere. You haven’t seen our downtown yet.” Jamie liked the idea, though he wasn’t so keen on the playing with Rosie part. He was too polite to say it, though.

 

“That sounds like fun.” He liked the eating out part. He hadn’t gotten to do that yet.

 

“Since you had two baths yesterday and we’re going to play outside, do you mind skipping it this morning?”

 

“No, that’s okay.” She was fastening a new diaper on him. “How’s Becky?”

 

His concern was touching. Here was a benefit you didn’t get with very regressed Littles; they could pick up on intense emotions, but they didn’t understand their causes or notice the subtle ones. “She seems alright this morning. I’m proud of her.”

 

“Yesterday wasn’t the first day like that, huh?”

 

“Actually, it was, sort of. Grandma hurts mom all the time. What was different is she did something about it.” Amanda got an outfit from the dresser, then thought better of it and picked out a second to take with them. Jamie was able to see what caused the difference yesterday. Me, he thought. It made him feel good and bad at the same time.

 

“I want to do something nice for her.”

 

“I’m sure she’d like that. Any ideas yet?”

 

Jamie shook his head. “Not yet.”

 

“Arms up.” She slipped Jamie’s shirt over his head. She threaded his shorts up his legs and stopped at his thigh. She didn’t see a bruise. She doubted even her Grandma would smack a Little that hard, but in retrospect, she wouldn’t put it past her. Her forehead creased at the thought of it. “Does your leg hurt, honey?” She rubbed it.

 

It didn’t. The mark lasted longer than the pain. “Nah, I’ve had worse.” His voice was jocular. He was trying to reassure her. Instead, Amanda just thought of all the worse things that may have happened to him in his past. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Someday she wanted to know all about his past, and on that day she expected she’d need to sedated to hear it all. Who hurts a Little boy, she asked herself. But Itali was not Utopia. She knew there were people unkind and worse to Littles and even to their own children. She just couldn’t fathom why. Chalking it up to evil, she knew, was a lazy answer, but if evil was not its cause, evil was still what it was.

 

She wanted Jamie to be surrounded on all sides by people who loved him as much as she did.

 

­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Little Hearth. This is Denise speaking.”

 

While Amanda saw to Jamie, Becky felt a need to reassure herself she’d made the right choice in selecting a day care. “Hi, Denise. Is Diane in?”

 

“She is. May I tell her who’s calling?”

 

“Rebecca Webb.”

 

“One moment please.”

 

There were so many day cars to choose from and some many criteria to consider. Convenience and price, but especially for Jamie, she wanted to be sure the place and the people were right for his needs. Several people she knew sent their littles to Little Hearth. The proprietor, Diane, had put her very much at ease.

 

“Hi, Rebecca. How are you this morning?”

 

Totally freaked out didn’t seem like the right response. “I’m well. Thanks so much for asking.”

 

“We’re looking forward to meeting Jamie next week.”

 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. Do you have a few minutes?” Diane got calls like these from new clients; this time of year, when school was going back in session, she fielded called like these daily.

 

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

 

Becky had asked herself that before calling, and she didn’t have a specific answer. She wasn’t worried about anything in particular. “Ya know, I guess I’m not sure.” She was a bit embarrassed to have made the call now, coming off like a panicked new Little mom.

 

Diane half expected that. She always half expected that, because many of her clients who made this call didn’t have anything specific to discuss either. “I have his paperwork in front of me,” Diane replied. ‘Would you like to go through it once more?”

 

“Yes, that’d be great.” That she had suggested something rather than try to end the call made Becky feel better already. They reviewed his medical history; they discussed his personal history; they talked about what foods he liked; they talked about how  he liked to play. With each item, Diane made it clear she understood and asked questions if she didn’t. She encouraged Becky to do the same.

 

“Well, Becky, that’s what’s on paper. Do you want to tell me anything about Jamie that you know now that you didn’t know when you filled this out?”

 

Becky talked about working with Jamie on how to respond to people who assumed he was regressed or treated him that way regardless. She talked about how he liked climbing on the swing set and that he liked things where he was physically active. She mentioned his favorite toys. She told her he could moody and sometimes got angry. She told Diane Jamie would only take a bottle from someone if he really trusted them; otherwise he wouldn’t even let them cradle him. She told her he cries more than you might expect from an un-regressed little. She told her he didn’t often use his pacifier, but she’d be sending it with him.

 

“Um … this is awkward but … do any of your clients dislike un-regressed Littles?”

 

“No. If I knew they did, I wouldn’t allow them. We don’t often have un-regressed littles, but regardless, we don’t want that thinking anywhere near our littles.”

 

“Does your staff have any experience with un-regressed littles?”

 

“Some. I’ve briefed them all on Jamie, and I’ll talk to them again before you get here.”

 

“He’s not had much luck with Bigs treating him respectfully.”

 

“I promise you he will here. I’ll stay with him until he’s comfortable.” There was a pause in the conversation. “Is there anything else I should know?”

 

“Just that … he’ll come off as aloof at first; he tries to control conversations by being very formal. Sort of, excessively polite. But with a little affection you’ll win him over. He has a big heart.”

 

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

 

“Thanks for talking with me.”

 

“Any time.”

 

They hung up. Becky felt better.

­­­­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

They decided to walk to the park again, the three of them. Amanda carried an extra set of clothes and Jamie’s sandals in her backpack, along with three liters of water. Jamie already had one next to him in the stroller, and he promised to drink all of it before they left the park.

 

They were meeting Jane and Rosie near the concession stand. They were early, so they walked around the playground and down the hill toward the lake. Jamie got out of the stroller, and he and Amanda went down to the water while Becky sat on a bench on the walking path. Jamie picked up a flat rock and skipped it across the water.

 

“Bet I can skip mine further,” Amanda challenged.

 

“I bet you can, too. You’re twice my size.” She easily did.

 

Jaime searched for another flat rock. What he found instead sent him scaling Amanda’s back like a climbing wall.

 

“Woah, Jamie!” He was frightening her. “What’s wrong?” She managed to grab hold of him and swing him in front of her. “Hey!” He wriggled as she turned to look. She saw nothing alarming. “What’s the matter?”

 

“Bear!” Amanda had no idea what he meant.

 

“Your bear’s at home.”

 

“No! Bear! He has a bear!” Jamie pointed to an older man holding a leash.

 

“Oh, you’re scared of dogs?”

 

Jamie looked at her with mutual incomprehension. “That’s a bear!”

 

Amana looked again. “Well, it does kind of look like your bear. But, honey, that’s a dog.”

 

Jamie was calming down. The bear seemed indifferent, and Amanda  wasn’t concerned at all. “That’s a bear where I come from.”

 

“Like your bear? Why would you be afraid of those?” Abbott and Costello would have been proud.

 

“I have a teddy bear. That’s an actual bear.”

 

“How are they different?”

 

Incredulous, Jamie tried to explain. “A teddy bear is a stuffed animal.”

 

That didn’t explain it to Amanda. “Yeah …”

 

“Real bears are dangerous.”

 

Becky saw something was amiss and walked over. “Everything alright?”

 

“It’s okay, Mom. Jamie just has a little phobia of dogs.”

 

“Bears. And it’s not a phobia," he said defensively.

 

It was Becky’s turn to look confused. “Then why do you have a bear stuffy?” Abbott and Costello could have taken lessons.

 

Jamie turned it around. “What do you think a bear is?”

 

Amanda and Becky looked at each other as though this were a trick question. “An animal?”

 

“How big of an animal?”

 

Becky held her hands apart a little less than a foot and a half. “Like this?”

 

Jamie shook his head and pointed back to the bear. “Like that.”

 

“Dogs are very gentle, though,” Becky tried to assure him.

 

“Yes, dogs are gentle. But that’s a bear!”

 

“And … what do ‘bears’ do, where you’re from,” Amanda ventured.

 

“If you get this close to them?” Jamie looked wide-eyed at the bear. “They eat you!”

 

Becky rubbed his arm. “Oh, honey, a dog would never do that.”

 

“But that’s a bear!”

 

“Let’s go see.” Becky started to approach the man, and Amanda followed.

 

“I’d rather not!” If any big other than Amanda or Becky had been carrying him, Jamie would have gouged an eye to get away.

 

“Excuse me, sir?” The man turned.

 

“My little has never seen a dog before. Would it be alright if he met your dog?”

 

“Sure! Ofo loves littles.” I love hamburgers, Jamie mused.

 

The man turned to Ofo. “Sit.” The bear sat on its hind quarters obediently. Amanda approached it. She felt Jamie’s heart beating against her chest.

 

Amanda reached out to pet it. Jamie was as scared for her as he was for himself. “It’s okay, Jamie. See? He’s very soft. Wanna try?” Her fingers nearly disappeared into the deep fur.

 

All three Bigs smiled at him. The man knelt down next to the bear and put an arms around it. Swallowing down the part of him that knew better than to poke the bear, Jamie reached out his trembling arm and touched the huge thing. It turned his snout toward his arm and sniffed, and then went back to looking at the man as if to say, can we keep walking?

 

“See,” the man said, “Nothing to be afraid of.” He and Ofo both stood back up. The bear stood a little higher than the man’s waist. So they have pet bears, Jamie realized.

 

“Thank you so much,” Becky said. “Jamie?”

 

“Uh, thank you, sir.”

 

“Don’t mention it.” The two of them continued their walk.

 

Amanda kissed his cheek. “How brave you are. See, told you dogs aren’t scary.”

 

“Well,” Becky announced, “Jane is probably waiting for us by now. They collected the stroller and began walking toward the playground. Amanda patted his butt.

 

“You’re a little wet.”

 

“Does he need a change,” Becky asked.

 

“No, he’s good for a while.”

 

When did I do that, one part of Jamie’s brain asked. Another answered back, sometime between seeing and touching a bear. The first part replied, oh, yeah.

 

Jane was waiting for them at the playground. Rosie was seated next to her swinging her legs.

 

“Hi, guys!”

 

“Hi, Jane. Jamie just met his first dog.”

 

“Ooh, that’s so exciting! Do you want one now,” Jane asked him.

 

Jamie shook his head. “Nope. I’m good.”

 

Jane chuckled. “Do you guys wanna go play?”

 

Rosie hopped down off the bench, and Amanda put Jamie down. He supposed he was supposed to follow her. “Wait!” Jamie stopped, and Becky handed him his water bottle.

 

Rosie headed for the sandbox, and Jamie followed. They claimed a plot of sand, and Rosie began scooping some out. Jamie sighed and did the same.

 

“So you saw one of the bears, huh?”

 

Jamie stopped short. “Excuse me?”

 

“The bears. You get used to them. They do come in smaller and bigger sizes, if you were wondering.”

 

“You …”

 

“When I want to, which isn’t often.”

 

Jamie was far more curious about her than the bear. “I guess I don’t understand.”

 

“Easy. Ismailia the Account Executive was miserable. Rosie the former Account Executive was merely unhappy. This Rosie is happy almost all the time.”

 

“But … how?”

 

“Think of it like reaching Nirvana. When you get there, everything is so clear, the things that don’t matter stop mattering to you. A simple, happy life.”

 

Jamie was awestruck. Of all the things he’d seen since his arrival, this was the most fascinating.

 

“Um, can I ask you questions some time?”

 

“Sure. Do you have any more right now?”

 

Jamie thought, and couldn’t think of any yet, but he knew he’d have many with time to thing on it. “Not right now, I guess.”

 

“K. I might not answer all the time.”

 

“I understand.” Not really, he knew.

 

“Mind if I stop for now?”

 

“Uh, no. Not at all.”

 

“Thanks. It’s cool if you don’t want to hang with me when I’m like that.”

 

Jamie watched her seamlessly pick up a stick to help her dig into the sand deep down where it was cool and wet. That’s incredible, he thought as he watched her play.

­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

Jamie did play with her a while longer. They were good enough together to open a sand pile building engineering firm. Jamie drank to stay hydrated, and it ran right through him. He let it go.

 

He was done playing in the sand and wanted to go join the game of tag. He at first worried about leaving Rosie, then remembered he wasn’t her sitter; her big was just a few feet away. He walked back to Amanda and Becky.

 

“You guys having fun,” Jane asked.

 

“Yeah ... just playing in the sand.” And receiving a philosophy lesson. “May I go play tag?”

 

“Sure,” Becky answered. “But first …” She bent down and felt his diaper through his shorts. “Thought so.” Jamie looked down at himself. It was quite obvious. He took a deep breath and sighed. This was gonna happen away from home eventually, he reminded himself, in the next few days, in fact. Becky took the diaper bag from under the stroller and held out her hand for Jamie.

 

When they had turned away, Jane turned to Amanda and near squealed in delight. “He is so cute I could eat him!”

 

“What’d he do,” Amanda asked.

 

“He said ‘May I.’ Ughh. Can I buy him a present today, just ‘cuz?” Amanda laughed.

 

Becky and Jamie walked around to the back of the concession stand. Even better, he thought, a public change in a filthy park bathroom; an open field would be preferable.

 

Instead, when he got inside he was surprised to find not only did it not smell of evaporating urine and worse, it was actually clean. Like, clean clean, not just park bathroom clean.

 

Another big mom was changing her little, who held a plastic ring of keys.

 

“Up up,” Amanda said as she lifted him on to a table. He looked away as she went about her work. The other big mom picked up her little, washed her hands, and left without paying Jamie any mind. The table the little had been on went into the wall; he heard a noise, and the table came back out. It sanitizes it, he realized.

 

Another big came in with another little who was clearly regressed but not as much as the other one. The big didn’t pay attention to Jamie, and when he made eye contact with the little, he blushed but she didn’t. This was that ordinary; there was no judgment. Once he was back on his feet, Jamie felt much more comfortable inside and out.

 

When they got back to their bench, Jane and Amanda stood as they approached. “Why don’t we all go over to the field,” Amanda suggested.

 

“Well, Rosie seems pretty happy where she is.”

 

“Don’t worry about her, Jamie. She can have fun anywhere. She may even join in,” Jane assured him.

 

In fact, this was planned. Rebecca had filled them in on the woman they’d encountered. Amanda was surprised her mom didn’t know about those people. Becky didn’t know if the woman was here or not, but if she was, and if anything was said, Rebecca wanted to be sure Jamie knew that they all had his back, or better yet, if she so much as frowned at him, he hoped he wouldn’t even see. Jamie deserved a permanent break from bigs like that. They collected Rosie on the way to the field.

 

Their bad luck, the woman was under the tree with a group of other moms, including Stephanie. Rebecca signaled to Jane and Amanda. Brenda or Brunhilda or Mergatrude or whatever her name was noticed them before Stephanie did. The three of them ignored her and approached Stephanie. Becky introduced Jane and Amanda to her, and she greeted Jamie and Rosie enthusiastically.

 

Jamie politely returned her greeting and stood there awkwardly as the bigs talked. Amanda noticed and chuckled at him. “Go on,” she told him. Jamie ran to join in the game. To his surprise, Rosie followed, and Jane was glad of it. Rosie didn’t get much vigorous exercise.

 

The four bigs watched the game. Jamie was once again the star. Rosie was the goat. They quickly realized what Jamie was doing. Every It quickly saw Rosie was an easy target, and she ended up It within a minute of every change over, with no hope of catching anyone. Jamie would slow himself to a trot and position himself near enough to her that she could catch him without making it obvious he was taking a dive, then he was off again, leaving Rosie feeling like a winner.

 

Jamie was delighted to be It. He’d chase the slower littles and purposely never catch them, and they delighted in getting to run and play and get away. Jamie tagged only the fastest littles. And when they homed in on Rosie, he was there.

 

All four bigs oohed and smiled. “Seriously, though,” Jane spoke up, “What can I buy him? Anything. What does he like?” The other three laughed, but Jane was perfectly in earnest.

 

“Kinda spoils the game, doesn’t it?” That snotty voice interjected from behind. “I mean, he’s basically cheating.” All four women turned to face her. After the day she’d had yesterday, Becky was ready to eat her liver. Amanda’s ears turned a dark shade of red. Stephanie huffed. Not Jane.

 

Jane walked over to the woman casually. The woman watched her but didn’t move. Jane leaned in and whispered something into her ear. The woman moved her head back to look at Jane wide-eyed for a brief second, sheepishly put her head down, then rolled her stroller over to another tree, alone. Jane walked back with no smile or scowl on her face.

 

“What did you say to her,” Amanda asked.

 

“Not telling.”

 

“Why not,” Amanda replied.

 

“It’ll give ya nightmares. Maybe when you’re older.” She didn’t crack a smile until the other three did. They had a good laugh.

 

Amanda had known Jane her whole life. She was almost like a second mom. As Amanda had grown older, she came to appreciate Jane in another way: as her mother’s best friend and confidante, something she knew her mom needed even more than most.

 

Amanda put her arms around Jane and whispered into her ear, “Thanks for being my mom’s friend.”

 

Becky smiled. “What did you say? What did she say?”

 

Jane shook her head. “Not telling.”

 

Becky laughed, “Why not?”

 

Jane sniffed. Her voice broke. “It’ll make you cry.”

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Hmmm perhaps they can find him a custom printed "bears please don't eat jamie" onesie, shirt, or perhaps a hat so he can feel safer as his random toy for being nice :)  Definitely enjoyed inscrutable wise-old-woman stuffed into the mind of a toddler hoping for more of her and jane's terrorize the rude superpowers :) 

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 Sweet chapters. Soo much going on amongst them all!! Love the way Becky stood up to her mother and the Park Moms. Rosie coming out of her shell is awesome and Jamie is more comfortable as well. I love the current adventures and look forward to the next one!

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