Chapter Text
Charlotte Wolfe stands in front of the full length mirror within the bedroom she shares with her husband, John Hampton. Turning sideways, she looks at the reflection of her incredibly distended abdomen, a couple of weeks from her due date. She groans softly as she carefully pulls on her orange, soft cotton maternity t-shirt to go with the skinny jeans she already wears. A jack-o-lantern appears on the abdomen portion of the piece of clothing. Charlie curls her lip at her appearance, at the portion of her pregnancy where she was just uncomfortable. Hearing a soft knock against the bedroom door, she pulls the drawer open on her dresser, “come in.”
Pushing the door open, Serena Campbell smiles to her stepdaughter, “good morning.” Her tone seems light and cheery, almost sing-song, as it often does in the mornings, “well, that shirt is...quite festive for you.”
“Is it too much?” Charlie looks at her reflection in the mirror again with a sigh, “I thought it would be cute since Tala was going to be a pumpkin too and...I think John may have bought himself a costume to walk around with her. I know he offered it to Nicky, but she didn’t seem too receptive.”
Serena lifts her head to look at the young woman’s reflection, “I know she said she wants to stay in treatment a bit longer, but mentioned coming out for a day to walk around with-”
“John checked with her treatment center and they said it was possible, but Nicky decided not to.” Charlotte shrugs a little, “it isn’t as if it’s Christmas or a larger event. I just want her to get to a point where she’s comfortable to be present for that.” She presses a hand on the side of her pregnant belly, “but enough about that. We’ll make the best out of it. Are Jason and Greta still coming?” Charlotte had offered to supply food and put the family up for the night, enabling them to have a warm, casual meeting and allowing Guinevere and Tala to have, hopefully, a good first meeting.
“As far as I’m aware.” Serena nods, a nervous energy seeping into her voice, “hopefully it will be the start of more visits.” Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips before a smile grows, “Bernie and I go there weekly to visit, so that has been nice, but I know Jason likes to drive and with Bernie and I moving into the other house in months time, I’d...I’d love to be able to have Guinevere on the weekends or something of the like.”
“You can do that now, Serena.” Charlie listens to her, finally turning away from looking at herself in the mirror, she pulls out a pair of thick orange slipper socks, “would you mind helping me get these on?”
“Sure, but you’re going to take them off in an hour when your feet begin to sweat.” It was a cycle. Charlotte would have someone help her pull these socks on, and then slide them off when she was uncomfortable. On and off, over and over. Serena’s smile grows when Charlie gives her a bemused scowl, “apparently Guinevere is a doctor this year, wearing a little scrubs and everything.” She seems very happy about this, “I had Henrik help out a bit by getting her a...heather-gray zippered-hooded jumper in her size with Holby City Hospital’s logo on the chest.”
“I think I’m familiar.” Charlie offers, moving over to the bed to take a seat on the edge, “Mum had one in the box of clothes we were given, among other things. Guess it was something she kept as a memento.” She watches as Serena takes a knee in front of her to aid her in sliding on her aforementioned slightly festive slipper socks, “and there weren’t many of them...mementos, I mean. Just a few.”
“I don’t know if she’s even taken a look in the box. I know John set it aside upstairs months ago when we all returned from Hargeisa.” Serena explains, pausing before doing anything, “do you want me to varnish these?” She lifts her head to look at her stepdaughter again, “they’re a bit...rough for wear and I know you can’t reach them yourself.”
“You’d do that?” Charlotte asks softly, “I mean...I don’t-”
“I insist.” Serena nods, using the side of the bed to help her stand back up. She motions Charlotte to move onto the bed more, “where do you keep your varnish?”
“There’s a basket underneath the sink in the lavatory. Black, please. There’s acetone underneath there as well.” Charlie slowly pushes herself up to the head of the bed, watching as her stepmother walks in the direction, “if you see a color you like, I can do yours as well. Since you’re retired, you don’t need to worry about varnish on your nails.”
“That’s very true.” Serena opens the cupboard door underneath the sink, obtaining the basket with an assortment of nail varnish inside, as well as the small bottle of acetone and the bag of cotton pads. “It’s Halloween, we can have a bit of fun, can’t we?”
“I figure so.” Charlie winces a little when she feels the fetus moving within her, or at least trying to move. “You’re so big, stop,” she murmurs to her abdomen, earning her a contraction almost like a response, “little jerk.”
“Did you say something?” Serena closes the door of the cupboard with her foot, carrying the collected supplies in her arms.
“Nothing important.” Charlie glances over to her, offering a soft smile, “I really can’t thank you enough. I could get John to do it, but he’s pretty...focused on other things today.”
“Few sessions and then he needs to throw his costume on.” Serena shakes her head a little, “I told him the rest of us weren’t wearing anything, but-”
“When we were in the flat, he’d buy candy every year just in case we had a trick-or-treater. We never did. So, he’d find which units in our complex had children and make them festive little treat satchels and leave them at their doors.” Charlie shakes her head, “Johnny goes mad with Halloween. Autumn in general.”
“Well, whatever floats his boat.” Serena nods, “I know how popular it can be in the states, though it might just be Boston. Absolutely massive there. I remember during the time I was getting my Masters.” She begins to open the bottle of varnish.
Charlie reaches over to her bedside table, obtaining a small canister of menthol rub. She opens it quickly and dips a finger inside before rubbing a small bit underneath her nose, “when Johnny has shifts at the hospital, I can still smell it on him for like...three days after and it makes me nauseous. So, this blocks any...foul odors.”
Serena nods, “in medical school, we had to dissect cadavers from time to time and that was a tactic we would use as well.” She offers a smile, waiting for Charlie to place the lid back on the small plastic pot before opening the bottle again, “really, anytime we were in the morgue.”
“I guess I ducked out of medical school before we got to that point.” Charlotte smiles, noticing movement by the open bedroom door, then the sound of little footsteps. “Too bad Tala isn’t in here or else I’d have to snatch her up for a proper snuggle.” She gives a nod to her mother when she notices when Bernie Wolfe then comes to stand in the doorway, having been following the toddler.
Realizing the toddler was now standing next to her as she sits on the bed, Serena raises an eyebrow to her. “Good morning, darling. Happy Halloween, little pumpkin.” When Tala Dunn points to the nail varnish, Serena realizes she’s asking what it is, “I’m putting varnish on Aunt Charlie’s toenails and...possibly her fingers in a bit.”
“Me too?” Tala holds up her sock covered foot, then puts it down and points to Bernie in the doorway, “Ga too?”
Serena considers it for a moment, remembering arguments with Elinor when she was roughly five and wanting to paint her nails pastel pink, and telling the girl that she couldn’t. “I don’t see why not.” It was so trivial, but it was things like that in which Serena often reflected on, especially as Guinevere and Tala continue to grow.
“Should I get nail varnish too?” Bernie asks the toddler as she walks into the room more, smirking to herself when the girl tries to peer closer, completely enthralled in Serena’s painting movements, “might be making a monster with this, I hope you know.”
“No harm done. I’ll just do her toes since she still puts her hands in her mouth.” Serena shakes her head, “Bernie, can you help her pick a color?” She watches as her wife reaches around her for the basket, using her left hand even though her right was closer. Serena decides not to say anything about it.
Bernie crouches, speaking to her granddaughter, “Tala, do you want-” She’s interrupted by the girl’s scowl, cross with having her attention pulled away from watching the painting, “would you prefer to match Aunt Charlie?”
Tala looks at her Gigi painting her Aunt Charlie’s toenails black, only waiting for a few toes to be finished before she sits on the rug covered, hardwood floor, removing her own socks. “Me,” she lays back, holding a newly nude foot in the air.
“So impatient.” Charlie laughs as she speaks, watching the girl, “Tala, you have to come up here. Ask Granny to help you.”
“No, tank.” Tala continues to hold her leg in the air, turning her head to look over at her Gigi.
Any other time, Serena would have happily given into the toddler, but she’s well aware that Charlotte had given Tala instruction that she wants her to listen to. “Come up here and I’ll be happy to help you.”
Tala lowers her foot with a thud and a pout, her eyes growing damp with tears.
“Tala, you have to come up here.” Charlie says again, hearing the toddler begin to lightly whimper, “or else you don’t get your nails varnished. Your choice, Tala.” She watches as the toddler lays there a moment more before walking around to the other side of the bed, looking to her Granny to help her up.
Serena hums as if impressed, raising an eyebrow, “good parenting, Aunt Charlie.”
“I don’t like upsetting her.” Charlotte sighs softly, watching as her mother helps the toddler onto the bed with her left hand. “It isn’t an easy thing.”
“Never is.” Bernie shakes her head, sitting next to her wife near the foot of the bed with the younger ones near the top, facing them. “Are we all doing black pedicures?” She wraps an arm around Tala when the girl changes her mind and climbs into Bernie’s lap to watch Serena’s gentle brush strokes with a closer, interested eye.
“When in Rome, darling.” Serena mumbles, smiling to herself after.