Chapter Text
November 2, 2041
“Hey Mama.”
She looks up from her book at the sound of Addy’s voice. Immediately her senses are on high alert. At nearly 18 years old, Addy never calls her Mama anymore unless she’s asking for something or trying to get out of trouble. She’s not going to question it, though, because whatever the reason, she’s about to get one-on-one time with her daughter, and that’s not something that happens often anymore. It’s not that she and Addy don’t have a good relationship, because they really do. They’re close in a way that she never was with her own mom, and aside from what Chris calls their battles of wills, occasional head buttings that are no doubt the result of them being far too similar for their own good, they don’t clash the way that some parents and children do. But Addy’s a month shy of 18, a high school senior, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day anymore for the kind of mother-daughter time they used to have. So if Addy’s coming to her in the middle of a Saturday morning and calling her Mama, she’s going to take it, whatever ‘it’ is.
“Hey sweetie. What’s up?”
Addy drops onto the couch next to her and She reaches behind her to put her book on the end table. “Why do you love Daddy?”
If she had a drink right now, she’s pretty sure she’d choke on it. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I mean,” Addy rolls her eyes, “no offense to Dad or anything. I don’t mean it as an insult, like you shouldn’t love him, just,” she drops her eyes to her lap, where her fingers pick at the hem of her sweatshirt. She shrugs, then looks back up at her mother. “I don’t know many people you guys’ age who are still together. I mean, Sarah’s parents split up when we were little, and John and Carrie’s parents got divorced a couple years ago.” Addy shakes her head sadly, “Michael just caught his dad cheating on his mom -”
She must make a face at that, even though she tries not to, because Addy quickly closes her eyes, her brow furrowed, and shakes her head.
“No, like, he found texts and stuff. He didn’t like, physically catch him. But I mean, it still really sucks.”
She nods in agreement because yeah, it really does. Michael is Addy’s boyfriend, and he’s a sweetheart, a really good kid who treats her daughter well. (Not that she would wish this situation on him if he was less likable, but she has an attachment to him and that makes it that much harder to know he’s going through something like this.) His mom is lovely too, and they’ve formed an easy, somewhat casual friendship in the several months that their kids have been dating. She’s only met his dad a few times, compared to the many times she’s seen his mom at school events and the few times she and Michael have joined them at their house for dinners and barbecues. At the time, he was always said to be working, but hearing this makes a lot of sense.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. You and Michael know that he, and his mom, are always welcome here, if they just need a break, or some support, or whatever.” She doesn’t mention it at the moment, because she doesn’t want to seem pushy, but Thanksgiving is in just a few weeks, and she’d be more than happy to add two extra plates to the table. (Well, one plate, really, because she had kind of already assumed that Michael would be joining them, and that Addy would spend part of the day with him and his family.)
“I know, Mom,” Addy takes the hand She offers and squeezes it. “Anyway, my point is just, I’m like, one of two people in my friend group whose parents are still together. And Evie’s parents are still married, but I mean, they basically hate each other, so.” The young woman rolls her eyes in disgust. Evie is another teenager She’s come to know very well. There have been plenty of times when Evie, who’s equally close with both Evans kids, since she’s in Charlie’s grade and a handful of his classes and on Addy’s soccer team, has shown up at their house for a sleepover and ended up not leaving for several days. Evie rarely says anything directly, aside from crying on Her shoulder a couple times, but she recognizes a lot of herself and her own messy upbringing in the teen, and she suspects that the young woman just prefers the stability of the Evans home (well, the stable chaos, if that’s a thing) over the toxicity of her own.
“I mean,” Addy goes on, and She has to stop herself worrying about her kids’ friends to actually listen to her daughter, “even Nana and Grandad were divorced when Dad was like, my age, and Granny …”
She just nods when Addy trails off. She’s always tried to make sure her kids know that her past (and therefore their grandmother’s past) isn’t some taboo topic, that they’re allowed to know, and even talk about, the fact that she grew up without her biological father and with only a pitiful excuse for a stand-in at times and that her mom was … well, that She is a very different kind of mother than the one she had. Still, she’s pretty sure Addy and Charlie can both tell that it’s not the happiest subject for her and that it’s important to her that they have a completely different experience, and so it’s not something they bring up often.
“So yeah, you and Dad are doing something that you just don’t see very often, and I was kinda wondering how. I figured knowing why you guys love each other was a good start.”
Addy’s hand is still in Hers, but only lightly, so she slips hers free and reaches up to comb her little girl’s hair back from her face and over her ear. It’s always been so, so important to her and Chris that Addy and Charlie know how much they love each other and that they have a model of a healthy relationship, so she’s really glad that this seems to be exactly what her daughter has picked up on. At the same time, though, it makes her sad that Addy (and most likely Charlie as well) has also picked up on the fact that the type of relationship She and Chris have can be somewhat rare, especially after the amount of time they’ve been together, and she doesn’t want that to be a stressor for her almost 18-year-old daughter.
“Well, sweetie,” she slides a strand of Addy’s hair through her fingers then rests Her hand on her wrist, “first of all, I just want you to understand that the end of a relationship doesn’t necessarily mean that the relationship, or the people in it, failed. Relationships can end for any number of reasons. Yes, sometimes one or both people mess up, or just do terrible things, but sometimes relationships just run their course. Sometimes the timing is bad, or the circumstances -”
“Like you and Uncle Matt?”
She smiles. “Yeah, sort of. I mean, your uncle Matt just, he’s not my person, your dad’s my person, but yeah, at the time our breakup was about bad circumstances and us seeing very different paths for ourselves. But we always cared for and respected each other. And now we have him and your Uncle Brandon and Libby and David in our lives, so I think we’re all winning there. And I mean, that’s kind of my point, right? Sometimes relationships end with no bad guy, the relationship just runs its course, or the people in the relationship grow more in different directions than the same direction, and it doesn’t mean they hate each other, it just kind of means they aren’t meant to be partners anymore.”
“I know all that, Mom. I mean, you and Dad are practically hippies, you’re so big on all the love everyone, blah blah blah stuff.”
“Okay,” She holds up a finger, “first of all, I’m not sure you fully understand the hippie version of ‘loving everyone,’” she puts finger quotes around the phrase her daughter had used, “and second of all, while you’re sorting that out, you should also look up exactly when the hippie era was. Your dad and I may be old to you, but we’re nowhere near that old.”
Addy laughs. “Okay, fine. My point is that’s the sort of thing you and dad have always taught us, so I get all that. I know that there are a lot of no-fault breakups. I mean, Michael and I will probably break up when we both leave for school next year, I know that. I’m not totally naive.”
She doesn’t know whether to be proud of her daughter for being so realistic and pragmatic or to be sad that she already seems to have lost some sense of romance. Honestly, it’s probably a little of both. And if she’s being really honest, she’d much rather her daughter have this attitude than the one She’d had about her own high school boyfriend, the one that led her to follow a boy out of state to go to a college where she knew no one. Sure, that had worked out well for her in the long run (just not for them), but she knows that’s not the case for everyone. As it is, with the way Addy is looking at her relationship with Michael, it really just means she’s about four years ahead of her mother in that regard.
“But even though I know that a relationship isn’t necessarily a failure just because it ended, I still want to have one that lasts, eventually. And you and Dad have done better at that than anyone I know. Soooo, back to my original question …”
She sighs and scrunches her nose. “Right.”
Addy huffs a little and drops her chin to look up at her mom from under her brow. “You were stalling weren’t you?”
“I mean … I did mean everything I said, but, maybe a little?” Addy glares at her and she laughs. “That’s a really big question!”
“Mom.”
“Okay, okay.” She closes her eyes, shakes her head and shoulders, and takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes again she squares her shoulders to her daughter and exhales slowly through her nose. “Well, to start with, there are all the big, kind of general things, the reasons that everyone loves your dad. He’s smart, and funny without being hurtful or really making people the butt of his jokes unless they’re actually in on them, and he’s just so, so kind and compassionate and empathetic. He really, really tries to make the world, and the lives of the people in it, better. It’s hard not to love someone like that. But from a more personal perspective? Why do I love him as my partner?” She feels herself smiling, probably blushing a little. “From the first time I met him, he just, he makes me smile.”
“You already said he was funny,” Addy deadpans.
She tucks her chin and raises her eyebrows. “I know what I said.” Addy holds her hands up by her shoulders in surrender. “And now I’m saying something different. I didn’t say he makes me laugh, though he does, I said he makes me smile. That’s not about being funny, it’s about the way he treats me, and the way he makes me feel about myself. Actually,” She sits up a little straighter, smiling, “that’s it, that’s the answer to your question. I love your dad because he made me love myself.”
For a moment, Addy just blinks at her. Then, finally, she throws up one hand and says, “Okay, I give. Explain.”
“Your dad has always seen the person that I wanted to be, but didn’t ever think I actually could be. He believes in the best possible version of me, and that made me believe in that version, too. Before him, I always saw myself as something that needed to be fixed , someone who was only worthy of a certain level of goodness in my life. But with him, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not perfect, I know there are things I can and should do better, and I work at those things every day, but I stopped seeing myself as broken when I started seeing myself through his eyes. Because I just figured, if he thought I deserved to have him in my life - and it doesn’t really get any more good than him - then maybe I’m worthy of more than I thought.” She offers Addy a weak smile and a one-shouldered shrug and drops her eyes to her lap.
“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” Addy asks, her voice strained.
“Maybe.” She looks up through her eyelashes. “But so are you.”
“Maybe.” Addy sniffles and lets herself be pulled over onto her mom, her head landing on Her shoulder and her arms going around Her waist. “You and dad both passed on your crybaby genes.”
She turns and presses her lips to her daughter’s forehead, but instead of kissing it, she blows a raspberry.
“Mom. Ew.”
She giggles, then she actually does kiss Addy’s hair before pulling away. “You’re gonna miss me when you’re gone in less than a year.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna miss you , I’m not gonna miss some of the weird stuff you and dad do.”
You might be surprised, She thinks, thinking about the random, surprising things she missed about her own mom, and her grandparents, when she went off to college herself almost 40 years ago, the first time she’d ever spent any real time away from her family. She doesn’t say that, though, settling instead for a simple, “Sure. So,” she waits while Addy repositions, reaching for the television remote on the coffee table in front of them then sitting back and snuggling into Her side. She combs her fingers through her daughter’s hair the way She knows Addy loves (just like Her) and as the younger woman is flipping through the channels, She asks, “Was my answer satisfactory? Did you get what you were looking for?’
Addy turns to look up at her, and there’s something just under her smile, though She can’t tell exactly what. “Yeah, Mama,” Addy says softly, “that should do it.”