Chapter Text
Phoebe can't find her bunny. She'd had Mr. Hopps for as long as she could remember; in the photo album her mamma had he was pure white and fluffy but now he looked more gray than white and deflated. Where was he? He wasn't in any of the stuffed animal boxes!
"Mamma! Where's Mr. Hopps? I can't find him!" Phoebe shouts across her uncle's house.
"What? Amuri, don't yell in the house!" her mamma yells back.
She huffily trots over to her in the kitchen. She was looking through the cabinets for something; probably spices. "Where's Mr. Hopps? He's not in the stuffed animal boxes," she questions shortly.
Her mamma turns to look at her with a stern look on her face. "Did you open the boxes?" she asked, without expecting a response. "Great, now your dad is going to have to tape them back shut again. Why did you open them up when we told you not to?" her mamma demands, brows furrowed.
Phoebe rears up angrily. "I can't sleep without Mr. Hopps! You know that! You were taunting me with the boxes! You wanted me to mess up because you hate me! I want Mr. Hopps!" Phoebe shouts, loud enough for her uncle to hear in his home office.
Her mamma sighs, clearly annoyed with her. "What happened to campà ’a la ggiurnata? Why are you making such a fuss?"
Phoebe feels tears leaking out of her eyes. "I just want Mr. Hopps! Where is he?" Phoebe demands again.
"Go to your room, little miss! If you want to have an attitude and yell at me you can think about what you've said and how embarrassingly you're acting," her mamma said in the kind of voice that was too-calm.
Phoebe stomped off, her footsteps not echoing as loudly as they did back home, and slammed her door shut. But it wasn't her door because nothing was hers and she didn't even have her bunny!
She sat in the closet of not-her-room curled up in a ball crying for what had to have been thirty minutes before her dad came home and found her there.
"What's wrong, sport?" he says in his trying-to-be-gentle-but-not-really-gentle voice.
"I can't find Mr. Hopps and I was mean to mamma and we don't have a house," she whines from the safety of her dads arms. "And don't call me sport," she sniffles.
She feels her dad nodding. "Your mamma is very stressed right now, sweetheart," he sighs. "You know you weren't supposed to open the boxes. If you had waited and asked me where he was I could've told you that he's probably still in storage," he explains. Phoebe deflates instantly. "What do we say about patience?" he questions.
"Patience is a virtue," Phoebe mutters.
"And what comes to the virtuous?" he prompts.
"Strong morals and a good life," she recites.
"Exactly. Why do you care about Mr. Hopps all the sudden? I thought he was too childish for you," he says.
She huffs. "I only said that cuz Lena said he was babyish. I'm not a baby."
"You know you shouldn't take stuff like that too seriously. You can't let other people's opinions dictate what you do with your life," he lectures. Phoebe's only heard this a million times. Unless it's for your- "Unless it's for your safety or the safety of those around you, do whatever your heart wants," he finishes.
He says that but he never means it. Her heart wanted to shout at mamma but he wasn't happy about that.
"Now, do you want to talk about what you said to your mamma?" her dad asks.
"No," Phoebe muttered.
"Let me rephrase; lets talk about what you said to your mamma," he says.
Phoebe makes a face.
"Don't get an attitude with me, little miss. Your mamma is away from her family for the first time and your sisters didn't come with us. We couldn't even bring the cat. This is my families house we're staying at while we find a place and you're young enough that you'll adapt quickly and I've been here before, but she's away from everything she's known. We have to be patient with her, okay, sweetie?" he not-really-asks.
She explodes a little, then. "I'm away from everything I've ever known too! Maggie's been with us as long as I've been alive and Lena and Linny have been around since forever and everyone here talks funny and mamma's always crying now!" Phoebe shouts. "And I don't like your stupid uncle," she mutters under her breath.
"Hey. Being upset is no reason to be rude," her dad says sternly.
"Sorry," she whines. "Uncle Levi is weird though. Weird and rich. Rachel and Isaac are weird too. They don't eat sugar and go to private school. Who goes to private school?" she questions.
"It's a lot more common here than it is back home," her dad explains. "The public schools aren't very good here; the elementary schools are all pretty much the same, but once you get into secondary school—that's middle and high school but in one, basically—the better the school you go to the more opportunities there are and the better your test scores are, for college and all that," he explains. "Me and your mamma haven't really talked about it yet, but when you get to secondary school you'll probably be in a private school too," he tells her.
Private school? Phoebe? The only people back home who went to private school were celebrity kids and super religious people. England was too different; she wishes she would've been able to stay with Lina and Linny.
"… I really want Mr. Hopps," she says dejectedly.
"We can try to look through storage this weekend," he asserts. "But no promises, okay? We packed up very quickly and he might've gotten put in the wrong box or something."
Phoebe jumps out of his arms and nearly tackles him to the floor with the force of her hug.
"Thank you thank you thank you! You're the best, dad!" she exclaims.
That weekend they do look for Mr. Hopps in storage, and they don't find him. Three months later after they've moved into their new flat, not apartment, and unpacked, they still don't find him. Her mamma and dad say that he was lost in the move; they didn't pack him or he was in a box of things that hadn't made it to the next continent over.
Phoebe was inconsolable for weeks, until her dad came home with a cage and a book and a white-gray bunny that they named 'Mr. Hopps'.
—
Janurary 1st, 1994
My name is Phoebe Elizabeth Rosen and I am ten years old. I turn eleven in a week, on January 8th. Having a birthday so close to Christmas is annoying because a lot of people only get me one present for both, when most people get two sets of presents for their birthday and Christmas. Unless their birthday is also during Christmas, I guess.
Me and mamma are going to Sicily again this winter. Ever since we moved to England we've gone twice a year. Two weeks in the summer and a week in the winter. Mamma and dad are saving up money to buy us a vacation house down there because we're going so often. Dad makes enough money to do things like that now, buy vacation houses. That's still really weird to me.
My teacher told us that writing in diaries or journals helped us express our emotions and gave us a place to get feelings out before they explode in real life, so that's my new years resolution. To write in a diary.
My Sicilian has gotten a lot better since we actually started visiting. Since our family hadn't been back to Sicily since grandma Provvidenza and her parents moved to America in the 1920's we had funny accents and talked in an old fashioned dialect. Now I speak better Sicilian than mamma, and I'm learning French in school too.
I start private school next year, which I'm kind of nervous about. Year 7 seems scary. I don't think I'm as grown up as any of the Year 7's I've seen going to school on the bus. Some girls have already started their periods and I haven't even had much of a physical change yet. I do grow a uni-brow if I don't pluck it though. Mamma taught me how. She said a lot of body hair is a Sicilian thing and I'm probably going to have to start shaving my legs and armpits sooner than the other girls. Razors seem easy to hurt yourself with.
This year for Christmas I got a lot of girly stuff I wasn't expecting. It's nice, I guess. It feels like my family back in San Francisco don't really know me anymore, which is sad. I grew up with them all. And my sisters are still there, as annoying as they are. We only go back once a year, though, for a week in the summers. So I guess it makes sense that they don't know me very well anymore. Me and mamma call my sisters Lenore and Caroline every month, though sometimes they don't pick up. Caroline more then Lenore, but Caroline's busier. Caroline is going to be a lawyer and is going to Washington State University in Seattle. She's staying with Aunt Jennifer. She hasn't started law school yet, apparently you have to do four years of regular college and then you go to three years of law school. That seems like so long.
Caroline sent her a stuffed bunny just like Mr. Hopps the original, which was nice of her. Lenore sent a sketchbook and fancy graphite pencils. I wish she hadn't. I like to draw a lot but I'm not good at it, like, at all. It's really embarrassing and I don't let anyone see anything that I draw. Mamma and dad don't even know that I like to draw and now that Lenore sent the sketchbook they're going to ask to see my drawings.
I got one gift signed by all my aunts and uncles and their husbands and wives. They wrote a cute little note, too. 'San Francisco hasn't been the same since you left, and your cousins miss you! We love you lots and think about you all the time. Come visit more!' The list of names was really long. Her uncle Mikey and his wife Catie, her aunt Elizabeth (who's name she had as her middle name!), and her aunt Jennifer and her husband Charlie. There was a signature that said 'your cousins' that she thinks was in Lenore's handwriting, which was kind of funny. None of them could be bothered to sign the card?
I guess it wasn't that long now that I write it out. Oh well.
It was a bunch of makeup I don't know how to use. Blush and eyeliner and eyeshadow and lipstick and all that. The only thing I know how to use is the lip gloss, because mamma had given me some that she though matched my complexion more than hers. I think that was just an excuse after she'd seen me looking at it for too long, because we look super alike. We have the same tan skin tone and dark brown hair and everything. The only real difference is that my hair is curly and my eyes are more hazel then brown. The curly hair came from dads side of the family but grandma Provvidenza has hazel eyes so that's probably where I got those.
Uncle Levi got me a portable cd player and headphones to go with it. He's weird and rich but I guess he does know me now. Rachel and Isaac didn't get me anything but I didn't get them anything either so it was fine. My great-grandparents also didn't get me anything but they're so old that they don't remember I exist sometimes so that was okay too.
Mamma got me a nail-care kit, lots of nail polish, and flower earrings! The earrings came with a promise that I could finally get my ears pierced (she'd been too worried that I wouldn't take care of them and let them get infected to get them pierced before). We go to get them pierced in two days, on Monday.
Dad got me a new (cooler) cd binder than my old one, a promise of $30 worth od cds of my choice, my first skateboard (which I've only been begging for since we lived in San Francisco!), and a jar of temporary hair dye. That isn't allowed at school but dad said that if I only dyed the underside of my hair and wore my hair down at school nobody would be able to see it, but at home I could put it in a ponytail or half-up half-down and you could see it then. I have a feeling the pink is going to look more purple once it goes onto my dark hair but that's okay, purples still cute.
I'm very excited to get my ears pierces and learn to ride my skateboard and dye my hair. This Christmas has been great and I know I'll get less for my birthday but It'll be something and I'm excited for that too.
I don't really know what else to write so I'm going to stop here.
—
Summer break is finally here!
"Pheebs, what're you doing for the summer? Going to Italy again?" Suze asks. The sun blares down on them immediately after they step out of the doors, causing Phoebe's hair to stick to her neck from sweat.
"Sicily, but yeah. San Francisco too I think. You got any plans?" Phoebe asks back. She's only been to Italy like once and it was only because when Lenore visited last year she wanted to go shopping in Milan. Sicily was technically part of Italy but not really.
"Yeah, I think we're vacationing in Greece again. Greece is nice and all but I want to go somewhere new, like Spain or something," she complains. "What about you, Kelly? You going anywhere this year?"
"No. Mum just had the baby and all, so we're skipping it this year. But then our vacation is usually just up to Brighton so nothing like you guys," she murmurs uncertainly.
"We can still hang out, though, definitely!" Suze exclaims. "I'm only going to be gone for two weeks and Pheebs for three, so that still gives us like half the summer to hang out. I know I wouldn't want to be cooped up with a crying baby all the time," she says.
"I don't know… now that Charlie's here mum's so busy that I'm going to have to babysit James all summer," Kelly explains.
"We don't mind James, Kelly, you can just bring him when we hang out. He's tolerable for a boy that young," Phoebe jumps in.
"Yeah, yeah, what Phoebe said! James is cute sometimes and he's not scared of girl cooties," Susan jumps in.
Kelly looks at them uncertainly. She's always been kind of insecure because she was poorer than the other two girls and had little siblings as opposed to older ones, but Susan and Phoebe couldn't care less and always tried to show her that.
"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind James tagging along," she clarifies.
"It's totally fine, Kelly, we don't mind," Phoebe says.
"Ooooh, our first stop should be the pool! I love the pool and it's warm enough for it," Suze suggests.
"I don't have a swimsuit yet," Phoebe interjects.
"Neither do I," Kelly adds.
"We can go shopping! I love shopping," Susan sighs dreamily.
Phoebe also liked shopping, but she didn't think anyone was happier to look at clothes and trinkets she wasn't going to buy for hours on end than Susan.
"That's a good idea," Phoebe said.
"Mhm," said Kelly.
Over the course of their conversation they'd made their way to the bus stop. Phoebe had to get off first to get a different bus to the part of London she lived in, but Susan and Kelly were practically neighbors. They idly chatted while Phoebe slipped on her headphones and put on Oasis' Definitely Maybe while they were waiting on the bus. She loved Oasis.
The half an hour bus ride seemed to take no time at all once she had her headphones on; she didn't even make it through disk one. When she got home, things were… tense. They'd been tense for a while.
Phoebe and her parents had moved to London nearly two years ago now, but her mamma had never really settled in. Her dad was doing great at his security firm and Phoebe was doing great at school and her mamma… wasn't.
Mamma was homesick, Phoebe knew that much. She missed San Francisco and her siblings and her job. But now her mamma and dad were fighting and it didn't seem to really be about anything. Just little things that were making them yell at each other. Phoebe knew they'd never hurt each other but she was scared they'd break up one day and she'd have to choose her mamma or dad.
"I'm home!" Phoebe called when she walked into the apartment. Her dad was sitting stoically on the couch watching some nerdy Sci-Fi TV show, and her mamma was in the kitchen with Frank Sinatra in the background. It was all normal except that they were obviously ignoring each other.
"Bimminutu a casa," her mamma speaks from the kitchen. Her dad just waves. Phoebe heads hesitantly to her room to grab her skateboard and practice a bit. She's not very good yet, but she can do a couple easier tricks.
Phoebe can hear her parents' voice pick up the second she closes the door to go back outside. So they weren't ignoring each other, just pausing an argument. Why were they arguing at all?
She tries to put it out of her mind as she practiced her Ollie—she could do a wheelie and Tic-Tac easily enough but only land an Ollie like less than half the time—but it was weighing on her enough that she kept messing up worse than normal. Eventually she found a bus bench to take a break on.
Phoebe didn't want to go home. That was a weird feeling; sure, she's wanted to do other things instead of going home before, but she's never really looked for reasons not to go home and dreaded when she had to.
She loved her parents but when they were both home it was like nobody could breathe. Maybe Susan would let her stay the night? There had to be a payphone somewhere around here.