Chapter Text
The floor is uncomfortable as he waits, dragging a crayon over a large sheet of notebook paper that he borrowed from Ford. He wants to climb up on the seat with his mother but she’s got her legs stretched out across it while she talks on the phone. They’re not allowed to bother her when she’s on the phone, that’s a rule, same as how they weren’t allowed in the shop while Dad is working. Stan knows this and it’s one of the rules he always obeys. His butt still hurts whenever he thinks about the last time Ford and he ran through the shop while he was working.
Besides, he wants to ask their ma a question and doesn’t want her mad before he does. Dad always got mad when he asked too many questions; Ford got books when he asked too many questions, Stan got a spanking. That was okay though, Stan didn’t have a lot of questions. Most of the questions he had Ford knew or had a book about, because he was the smart one. Stan had personality, their ma said so. He could tell stories real good too. Ford got mad when he did that, sometimes, like when he made up the story about the monster that lived in their closet. Ford had stayed up all night trying to catch it to ask it questions.
Stan giggles as he thinks about it and feels a hand on his head. He grins up at his ma; she scratches her long, pretty red nails against his scalp. She gives him a wink and moves the phone so it’s cradled between her ear and shoulder. She leans back, patting her lap, which Stan immediately jumps up to climb into. He settles in her lap and lets her muss with his hair, though she keeps pushing his glasses down his nose while he keeps drawing.
“No, no, darling. It’s right here in the cards. He’ll be tall with…” her fingers pinch his cheek and he leans away, covering his mouth as he laughs, “freckly cheeks. Mmhm. Look for the man with freckles in a,” she snatches the crayon out of his hand and looks it over, “red shirt. Yup. That will be your one true love. Alright. May the stars shine upon you.”
As soon as she hangs up the phone, Stan’s hugged way too tight and his ma is blowing raspberries against his cheek and knocking his glasses off. He laughs while trying to push her off. “Ma! Stop it!”
She lets him go with a sloppy kiss to his cheek that he has to scrub off. “What are you doing, you little troublemaker? Where’s your other half?” she leans back against the window behind her. Then she takes his paper from him, turning it this way and that while she looks it over. “Is this another monster for you and Ford to chase after?”
Stan readjusts himself in her lap and takes the picture and crayon back. “Shermie said he’d take ‘im to the library. Books are boring so I didn’t wanna go.” Stan liked his big brother; he gave them pennies to save up for sodas and would take them to the beach to play when their ma was busy. Ford was his favorite cause he was his best friend but Shermie was nice. He sticks his tongue out while he adds a few more lines to his drawing. “’sides, I wanna ask you bout somethin’ someone said at school.”
His ma moves him a bit so he can lean back against her front; her chin digs in a bit to the top of his head but it’s not too bad, especially when she hugs him. “Oh? Finally found something not even Ford knows?” she gave his side a squeeze and he wiggles a bit at the way it tickles. “Well, ask away, Sweetheart.”
“What’s a con?” that’s what Crampelter said their family was full of. Cons and scammers. He’d heard some of the people that bought stuff from their dad say that too when they tried to return stuff. No refunds, read the sign. That’s what Dad said to those people. Stan was pretty sure it was a bad thing, because people said it with words Stan wasn’t allowed to say or else he’d get the belt.
His ma gets all stiff behind him and she squeezes him too tight again. “Where’d you hear that?”
He looks back at her, pushing his glasses back up his nose so he can see her better. She’s got a sad look on her face so he grins at her. “Someone at school said it. Is it bad?”
His ma sticks out her bottom lip a bit, like she does when she’s trying to read the stars on the phone. Ford does it too when he’s trying to solve the mysteries in the Almanac Blue books. Stan always just read the answers in the back of the book. “Well…” she reaches for his drawing again, setting it flat on his lap. “You know how you like to make up stories?”
Stan nods and hurriedly adds angry eyebrows to the new monster he was making up. He was gonna tell Ford that it lived in the creepy vase in their dad’s shop and it at their ma’s nail polish; that’s why it was so red and why she kept running out. “Yeah! Are cons stories?”
“Well…” she tapped the drawing, “kinda. Your stories aren’t true, right? That’s why Daddy spanks you for lying sometimes. Well, cons are stories that aren’t true.” She smiles and nuzzles his hair. “But you don’t wanna hurt anyone with your stories, right, baby?”
He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh!” he just likes pulling pranks on Ford, and Ford has fun with it too. Usually they go monster hunting together and build Fort Stan out of blankets and boxes. And sometimes they find real stuff like footprints in the sand that look like monster prints. It’s really fun. “They’re just for fun.”
His mom smiles wide, bright white teeth with pretty red lips that leave marks on cheeks and foreheads when she kisses first thing in the morning. “That’s right, sweetheart! And that’s what Daddy and me do; we tell stories for fun. But when someone doesn’t like the story, they get mad and call it a con. But it’s just stories. Does that make sense?”
He twists up his mouth while he thinks about it. His ma does tell really good bedtime stories. So that’s what his ma does on the phone, tell stories? That makes sense, he supposes. Grownups can’t spank other grownups, so they call each other cons and other words Stan’s not allowed to say. He nods. “Okay. That makes sense.”
He feels his ma’s chin on top of his head again. “Good boy. Now, why don’t you tell Mama your new story?”