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“El says you two are having a sleepover,” announces Will with a half smile, taking a bite of lasagna to his mouth. His mother is caught by surprise, looking up at him and spotting the girl’s red features on the corner of the table. The boy proceeds, amusedly, “That’s why you wanted me and Jonathan out of the house, right?”
“Well, we are. Kinda.” Joyce agrees, gently smiling through a sip on her orange juice. “And I don’t want you and your brother out of the house, Will. But… El and I are gonna enjoy having a few hours just for the girls.” she gives the tgirl a wink, which is received with a bright smile. “You boys can be a real mess to be around, y’know.”
Joyce had been noticing the ways in which raising a girl differed from her experience with the boys. She was a good mother, attentive, too worried at times, but gone was the time when she would effortlessly keep track of her sons’ interests. She knew about them, was immensely supportive, but knew better than to try and be a part of them all the time now. With El, on the other hand, Joyce had learned that being a part of things seemed to work. She noticed how excited El was around magazines, and how she actually enjoyed the time they spent together as they watched soap operas while making dinner at times.
Most importantly, she noticed how El looked at her attentively as she put on makeup before they went to the party at Rink-O-Mania that other night, and sat there with an eager smile as Joyce applied pink lipstick to her lips and blush to her cheeks.
“Do you like it?” the woman had asked, holding a small mirror to El’s face. Her eyes lit up in excitement, and Joyce’s heart filled with such tenderness that she could melt.
“I look… so pretty,” the girl replied, analyzing the delicate colors on her face with a smile.
“You do. You are beautiful with and without all of this, honey.” Joyce pointed out, leaving the mirror over the bathroom sink, “But it’s nice to pamper ourselves sometimes, right?”
“Pamper,” El repeated, looking up at the woman with observant eyes.
“Yeah. Like… spoil. Do things that make us really happy.” the woman added, fingertips caressing the girl’s hair and turning her to the mirror above the sink, “I can teach you how to do your makeup if you’d like that,” she offered with a modest smile. Joyce was by no means an authority on the matter, but could pull off a black eyeshadow and wine lip look for certain occasions. Besides, it was exciting to think of learning something new so she could teach her little girl. “I’m really no expert, but we can get some magazines and see what girls your age are doing these days. And I have a bunch of colors I don’t use here anyway, so…” she meant to look at the couple of plastic palettes that laid on the sink, the brown and black tones reaching an end while the whole spectrum of colors remained nearly untouched, but El’s arms had already jumped to hold her on a thankful hug.
“That’d be awesome!” exclaimed the girl, and so it was set. Joyce noticed that having a teenage daughter could be rewarding and exciting in ways that her experience with the boys never had the chance to be, with a companionship that she didn’t know she dreamed of when it comes to being a mother.
That same week, the woman had stopped by a magazine stand and grabbed a handful of those, bought a couple of shiny lip glosses at the drugstore and subtly suggested that Jonathan should take Will to the movies one night, see whatever sci-fi pictures were playing, enjoy some time with his little brother before heading off to college.
Judging by Will’s tone over dinner, Joyce figures she might have been less subtle than initially planned, but still had no doubt the kids would have fun and wholeheartedly understand her wish to spend some time alone with El. They rarely spoke about it out loud, but grief had been a palpable presence in their lives for the past six months, and while Jonathan and Will seemed shaken after Hopper’s death, they understood there was no measuring to the pain hidden in their sister and mother’s chests. Even as Will teases, Joyce feels the endearment in his voice at El’s plans with their mom.
“Yeah!” adds El at last, looking at Will over the table with an assertive, excited smile. “So you guys can stay out as long as you want, because we’ll be alright.”
Joyce can’t help laughing at Will’s slightly affronted face in contrast to El’s harmless, positive features. “Oh, okay. Jonathan knows exactly what time you guys are supposed to be back. You’ll have a great time, sweetie, and so will El and I. We’ll tell you everything about the…” she searches El’s eyes for help on that one, to which the girl immediately complies.
“Movies and makeup…?”
“Movies and makeup when you guys are back.” she repeats assertively, knowing that much should be enough for Will to be a little more appreciative of not being included in their plans for the night.
“I’ll pass on that, but thanks, mom. I’ll tell you guys if the movie was cool, though.” he offers instead, excitement flooding into his features as it always did when the subject was one of his geeky things.
“ I’ll pass on that if it’s too gory,” Joyce flinches, shrugging at the knowledge of her sons’ preferred movie type.
Gladly, her plans for the night were all the way calmer, and as both boys kissed her goodbye before heading off the door in their graphic t-shirts, El already sat eagerly in the living room, trying not to look as excited as she actually felt. Joyce knew she wasn’t half as fun as Max, or as skilled in girly matters as Nancy, but couldn’t help but be excited to spend some time with the girl as well; if anything, she could tell that El missed that kind of contact.
“So, El,” she clapped her hands together, approaching the girl with a mischievous look. “How should we get our sleepover started? I haven’t had one in a long time, so you’ll have to walk me through it here.”
“Uhm… Max and I liked listening to music together.” El starts, and seeing Joyce’s curious eyes, proceeds. “We listened to songs by Cyndi… Lauper?”
“Oh, Max’s a bit of a rebel then. You liked those songs?” surprised, Joyce headed towards the bookshelf by the television, crouching down to search her old collection. “I don’t have any Cyndi, but I loved another rebel girl way back.” she stands up with her press of Pearl in hands, formally introducing it to the younger. “I don’t think you’ve ever listened to Janis, El, but I have a feeling you’ll get along well.”
“She’s a rebel?” El questions, taking a closer look at the record cover, taking it in her hands as Joyce drifts off into the kitchen, only to come back a few moments later with a few cans of Coke.
“Oh, yeah. You’ll get it when you listen to her songs. You ready?” and nods towards the stairs, smiling at the way the girl hurried up those steps and stopped trying to figure out where they’d spend their time. “My room. Come on,” advises Joyce, patting her back as she arrives in the hallway, thinking the other would get a little more of the feeling of a proper sleepover if it wasn’t simply in her own bedroom.
“You don’t listen to music a lot. I didn’t think you were very into it,” notes El, setting herself on the bed and trading items with the woman, allowing her to put the record on while holding the cans and setting them on the nightstand.
“Oh, I like it. I just like to listen to it when I’m alone,” Joyce shrugs, figuring out the record player with ease. “Y’know, Jonathan is a real music snob. He was having way too many opinions about what I would listen to,” she laughs, even though it’s only half true. Sure, her son had its part in her preference to listen to music on her own, but it was mostly about shutting off her brain for a few minutes while in no one’s presence but her own. Her mind had a habit of going to anxious places when she didn’t have the kids around to occupy it with, and so music was a good company. “You can take my records if you’d like, El. It’s not much, but- I have some Blondie, Ella Fitzgerald… that can’t be too old for you, right?” Joyce’s nose scrunches at the thought, giving the young girl a quick glance and stealing from her a hopeful, modest smile. She figures girls her age would rather listen to Madonna or Cyndi instead, and that gives her a few ideas for what to get El for her next birthday.
When Janis Joplin’s raspy voice resounds from the record player, Joyce turns around to find a wide-eyed El static on the bed. “ Mhmm . I told you she was a rebel.”
“Bitchin’.” El agrees, laughing, only for a moment thinking how much better the phrase would’ve landed with Hopper.
Joyce laughs at the remark, shaking her head on her way out, only to return a few seconds later with all the makeup she owned in her hands. She sits on the bed as well, laying it all over the covers, pulling El to its center by her hands. “Oh! Magazines,” she reminds herself, stretching on the bed and reaching for the nightstand, where one of the drawers held the desired items. “We have a lot to learn from these, El. Seriously. Things weren’t so difficult back in the day ,” she frowns, putting on her best old lady impression, stealing from the girl a healing giggle.
“You’re not even that old!” El laughs out, grabbing one of the magazines and looking through it.
“ That old? Come on, El, how is that even a compliment?” Joyce takes a hand to her chest, feigning offense with way too much ease.
“It is! You’re just being silly.” the girl gives her a look, way too much similar to the ones Joyce gives her kids when she’s making a point, and even the woman fails to find an answer to that. “You’re not that old and you’re pretty, too.”
“Jeez, where is all that coming from?” unable to handle any compliments, Joyce has to redirect her attention to the magazine, mindlessly scanning through the ads and articles in her hands.
“Hopper always said that. And he also looked at you a lot , so he definitely meant it. I think so too.” she shrugs, throwing that into the conversation as if it’s no big deal, but Joyce has to grip the magazine tighter before it slips through her fingers.
She can only imagine what situation might have possibly prompted good old Jim Hopper to randomly offer her compliments to the ears of his daughter, but has to stop herself before the idealization of those thoughts slips into her features. Joyce clears her throat, “Well, guess that makes me quite a catch, then, huh?” and laughs drily, eyes fluttering while looking down, trying to keep feelings under control. “Here. Evening eye catchers to show your true colors. And talk about color,” she reads out loud and then mumbles, taking a good look at the photos on the magazine spread before laying it on the bed for El to see. “You do yours, I do mine?”
“Can you do mine first?” El tries, slowly, only to quickly correct herself as if expecting rejection. “I mean, I have no idea how to do it, so I can be your model and when I learn I can try it on you.”
It quickly dawns on Joyce that El is fully in it for a night with her mother . She wished to be taken care of, not only do girly things she’d otherwise try out with one of her friends. Sweetly, she smiles at the girl. “Yeah, of course! But you have to promise to not…”
“Use too many colors, yeah!” El laughs, almost able to see the woman’s horror in seeing her own face covered in the colorful trends of the magazine. “You go first.”
“Okay,” Joyce rummages through the items on her bed, while El opens up a soda can. “It’s a surprise, so no peeking.” she warns, nodding to the dresser on the corner of the room, and specifically its mirror.
It is a deal. El patiently waits as Joyce reads through the steps of that eyeshadow look out loud, walking her through it, eyes closed, head moving to the sound of the low music as the woman picks a color or another from the palette. She tells Joyce about this book she was reading about in class, and about how Will had taught her a lot about drawing for an art project.
“El,” finally the woman says, setting down the eyeshadow and brush before taking the soda can into her hands. She props one hand on the bed and leans back slightly, having a better look at El’s face before taking a sip of the drink. “I think art runs in the family, ‘cause I did a pretty great job.” she suggests with a smirk, playfully cocky, watching as the girl allowed a smile to grow on her features.
“Can I look?!” she asks, patiently keeping her eyes closed.
“You can open your eyes, but there’s still one thing…” she grabs a small paper package from under her pillow, handing it to the girl as she opens her eyes. “This whole look is… a lot to wear to school everyday, but you can wear these on your lips any time. They taste like grapes and strawberry. I didn’t know which one you’d like better.”
The girl smiles from ear to ear as she uncovers the pair of lip glosses and analyzes them carefully on the palm of her hand. She ultimately picks strawberry, and accepts Joyce’s assistance to properly apply it on her lips. It leaves a light rosy shimmer on them, and she presses them together a few times to taste the sweet flavor. Finally, Joyce guides her towards the dresser mirror, standing behind her as she excitedly opens her eyes to her reflection.
El looks up to find a beautiful, colorful combination of pink, orange and purple eyeshadow delicately covering her eyelids, curved lashes and a peachy tone on her cheeks. Her lips look a beautiful delicate color and she can smell its strawberry scent as she smiles. “It’s so… pink!” she laughs.
“Too much?” Joyce cringes behind her, to which the girl turns around and gives her a reassuring smile.
“No! It’s so pretty. It’s like a sunset.” she adds, now used to the pastel sunsets in California. “Thank you. And thank you so much for the lip-gloss.” by the look on the girl’s face, and her new found habit of pressing her lips together to evenly spread the product, Joyce can tell the girl will be making those a new part of her everyday look. “My turn now! You can’t look,” she grabs the woman by the hand and leads her towards the bed.
“I can’t even help you pick one? We have a lot of other magazines,” Joyce offers.
“No! I’ll pick one.” and promptly gets to the task, leaving all the magazines open in specific pages to take in all the inspiration. Half way through her process, as she’s been focused and quiet for a little too long without noticing, Joyce manages to slip a look towards the mirror and catches herself surprised at the sight.
“El! You said not so many colors!” she laughs, spotting splashes of yellow, black and blue over her eyelids.
“ You said no looking!” El laughs back, turning her face away from the mirror again, grabbing a magazine to show her the desired look. “It’s not too many, and one of them is black!”
“Okay, okay! It’s just a lot more than I usually do,” Joyce explains, forcing her eyes closed again. “Your brothers are gonna have a real laugh at me when they see this.”
“They’re gonna love it! If you let me finish,” El remarks, and the woman does as she’s told, letting her apply grape lip gloss to her features.
When El grabs the fluffy rouge brush, Joyce raises an eyebrow. “You can’t add too much of it, okay? That makes us look like we’ve been smacked on the face,” she makes a little bit of a face at it, “Just… light pats. Like we caught a little healthy sun, or… feel so flattered around someone,” and bats her eyelashes playfully, offering her face for the girl to paint. Gladly, El seems to be a natural with the brush, and so the woman doesn’t stress over it.
By the time she greets her new look in the mirror, she’s truly surprised at the sight of herself. The makeup choices certainly fit better someone with at least half her age, or at least so she believes, so very used to the looks of neutral colors on her skin. Still, she brings El into a big hug, thanking her immensely for it and saying she’s got a real talent over there.
“You’re doing my makeup next time I have to go out, El,” she says, squeezing the girl in a proud fashion, even though she had really no plans on going out any time soon.
She’s back on the bed, opening another soda, when she spots El taking a seat by the armchair in a similar way Janis posed on the cover of the record the girl was admiring earlier. “Look!”
Joyce could burst out of excitement at the sight. “Oh, my! Wait,” she hurries out of her room and into Jonathan’s, coming back with his polaroid camera in hands. It had been a gift for his last birthday, as she knew there was no way to get it wrong with her eldest if she enlarged his photography collection. “Come on, do your thing!” and watches as El blushes a little while propping her hand over the side of the chair and crosses her legs with a delighted smile. They wait patiently as her image appears on the photo, and Joyce grabs a marker to scribble El as Janis! at its bottom while El tries to figure out the ins and outs of the camera by herself.
“Let me take one of you,” she asks, standing up and hovering the camera near her face.
“We can take one together…” Joyce tries to see her way out of the situation, but El isn’t so willing to get no for an answer. Finally, the woman fixes her bangs and smiles for the camera without really showing her teeth, suddenly self conscious.
“It looks amazing!” excitedly El announces, dropping onto the bed on her belly and grabbing the pen to write down Joyce by El , with a heart doodle on its side. Finally, they snuggle closer to each other and try to take a good picture of themselves, taking a few attempts to get the angle right.
“Jonathan’s gonna have a fun surprise when he sees what we did to his film,” Joyce laughs, leaving the camera aside to take a proper look at the images appearing on their photos. “Oh, this one’s a good one,” she shows the girl a picture, where she’s seen smiling while El leaves a kiss on her cheek. The girl grabs it and labels it Sleepover 1986 , but gives it back to Joyce.
“You can keep this one. I think I like this one better,” she explains, showing her one of the two of them half caught by surprise, Joyce genuinely laughing as El had just left her thumb in front of the camera a couple shots ago.
They separate which photos each one of them get to keep, although it doesn’t really matter for Joyce, since all of hers will be pressed against the fridge next morning in the end. They slip into simple conversation again as Joyce pats El’s side, guiding her to sit on the bed with her back turned to her, allowing the mother to brush the girl’s hair as she tells her a funny story from work.
“You said you’d let me do your makeup next time you went out,” El begins after Joyce had been quiet for a few moments, separating the girl’s hair and carefully braiding a few strands together while most of it laid perfectly on her back. “Are we going to the rink again soon?”
“Oh,” she looks at the girl through the mirror, “I didn’t think you needed me there, sweetie. I mean, I thought you guys had fun going by yourselves. Will’s definitely better at skating than I am by now,” playfully the sentence rolls down her tongue, feigning her youngest’s tone when he first walked into the rink not long ago, showing off his natural abilities. Quietly, she allows a smile to rest on her features, cherishing that old feeling of being wanted around her children.
“I had the best time when you came with us,” simply El adds, and then proceeds on a smaller, less brave voice. “So, a date?”
“What?”
“You could go out on a date,” the girl explains, as if it were a given.
Joyce has a hard time not blushing at that one, and only for a moment manages to lock eyes with El in the mirror before explaining, “I don’t know a lot of people here, sweetie. I don’t think I’ll be going on a date any time soon.”
“But you went on one,” El is assertive at that. “With Hop. Right?”
The eagerness on her voice makes it quite clear that she’s been circling that subject for some time now, trying to find her way into it, only then able to hit the bull’s eye with her inquisitions. Joyce doesn’t actively intend to dodge the subject like that, but can’t help the confusion that immediately floods her features in the mirror.
“He told you that?”
“He said he was having dinner with a friend.” it’s El’s turn to explain, and the melodic, objective tone in her voice rang a few bells in the woman’s memories. Yes, that was about right; two friends having dinner, no more, no less. “And he didn’t have a lot of friends, I mean, he mostly hung out with you.”
“Could be one of the boys from the station,” Joyce adds, quietly, not really trying to take a stand on that argument.
El brushes right past the attempt. “But then Max said he was definitely going on a date instead. Because he had perfume and was wearing this really weird shirt-”
“The one with the flowers,” Joyce cut in, quietly laughing to herself at the memory. “I know the one. And why were you so sure he was seeing me?”
“I told you. He mostly hung out with you. And he saved the perfume for when he was seeing you, or when you were bringing Will over, or when we-”
“Okay, copy that.” Joyce interrupts, shock and sarcasm dancing on her features as she tries to dodge El’s eyes on the mirror in unease. Clearly, the girl had the time to put the pieces together – and judging by the way she laid down all the evidence in front of the older woman, she was pretty satisfied with her conclusions. For a few moments, the bordering eagerness in her voice has Joyce smiling; so he did start using that cologne more often after she mentioned she liked it that one time – it wasn’t all in her head, after all. It’s like, for only a few moments, she’s allowed to believe that fantasy in which they went on that stupid date, and things headed towards a different ending from there. “And what else did you girls figure out?”
“He didn’t look very happy, so he definitely did something wrong.” replies El, very certain at that too, and the silence that follows has her fidgeting in front of her mother. “When he left, he was really happy. And then he came back and was all- angry, and red. Max said you must have dumped his ass for him to be that mad.”
“Dumped h- okay. ” repeats the woman in a lower tone, arched eyebrows framing her slightly exasperated face. Though she’s briefly humored, her disposition is quick on melting into seriousness again. She didn’t live in the fantasy where things ended differently, and the realization hit hard on her even now, even months later, even when she supposed those ifs and almosts shouldn’t have that much weight anymore. “I… didn’t. I mean, we never had… I couldn’t have dumped him.” she tries her best at putting a sentence together, but suddenly she’s perfectly aware of how silly it sounded out of her mouth. It was as simple as El had just put it, and yet, they had found ways to complicate it until it was too late. “I just never made it to our date. He was right to be mad, but it wasn’t really his fault.”
“You didn’t go?” El questions, quietly, turning her face slightly to search the woman’s eyes.
“I planned to. I got caught up because- the magnets fell off my fridge,” she sighs as she tries to illustrate the thought, tired of hitting that same old button again. “Things were already getting crazy again, sweetie, so I couldn’t make it. I knew something was wrong.”
El falls silent after that, and Joyce catches her eyes staring into her hands through the mirror, as if quietly contemplating where to place those new pieces of information into her collection of speculations. “But you were going.” she shifts on the bed and faces the woman with a pair of big eyes.
“Yeah! It was a pretty fancy restaurant, El.” she adds with a face , “I had a dress, and everything. It was an old thing, but still . Fit for the occasion.” gesticulating, she assures the girl, almost as if sensing how somehow the thought of her two parents on a date had comforted El in a way. “Nothing like a Hawaiian shirt, clearly , but… cute.” and nudges her daughter with her shoulder, prompting the two into a heartfelt round of laughter.
“It would’ve been a good date.” El offers, and Joyce thinks it’s mostly for the girl herself, refusing to let go of that version of the story where Hopper and her were together, but the sweetness in her eyes tells her it might be a reassurance for Joyce . It’s not your fault that you don’t get to have that date , almost. It’s a message she’s happy to read in the silence they share.
“Yeah. I think so.” Joyce agrees, hand moving to caress El’s arm, lips twitching into a pout. She thinks of telling her, thinks of sharing the plans for the date that she would most certainly never miss, the one they had agreed on just moments before Hopper was taken from her, but the simple thought of bursting the bubble of that moment they shared made her heart sink on her stomach. She had a plan, to get out of that place after it all worked out, to make that reservation at Enzo’s herself, to take that dress out of her wardrobe and wear it the evening Jim came and picked her up. She had it all planned out, from the moment they talked that night, and a part of her still had the instinct to think he’d show up at her doorstep and take her on the date she had been promised. A part of her was still there, waiting.
She must have delved into that thought for too long, and her face must have shown it a little too clearly, for El’s eyes study her attentively, wondering if there is something to be worried about. Joyce physically shrugs off the thought, shaking her head, putting on a smile with whatever strength she has left in her. “What about you, sweetie?” she asks, voice shaking a little before finding its ground, “Have you gone on a date before?”
El ponders for a couple seconds, "Mike and I went to the snow ball together."
"Right. He was your date, but I'm talking more about… an actual date. You know, where it's just the two of you, and you can watch a movie… maybe he brings you some flowers…"
"He… never asked me on one." El concludes, but before she has a chance to become upset about it, Joyce gives her a confident nudge.
“Well, you can always ask him out.” Joyce suggests, placing a few strands of the girl’s hair behind her ear. Instantly, shifting the subject from her potential dates to El’s lifts a weight off her chest.
“I can?” questions the girl, as if the thought hadn't truly crossed her mind.
"Yeah! I mean, why not?" she encourages, "I actually think some boys might be just too scared to ask it first. Or ask it at all," a shrug, "Hey, most of the time you guys spent together was fighting off monsters, sweetie. I'm sure it's not like he didn't want to. Maybe you can ask him out when he comes over for spring break."
"Yes!" her face lights up at the thought. "I'll have a lot of time to plan it, too."
"Yeah. Besides, El, I really don't want him thinking he'll be just all over my kid without taking her out on a proper date first, you know." adds Joyce, a playfully smug smile twitching her features, only to turn into a soft giggle that followed El's.
"That sounds-" like something Hop would say, El leaves unsaid, but the nostalgic look on her face isn't all that hard to read. She seems to bite her tongue before proceeding, "Good. That sounds really good, Joyce." and she leans in for a hug, hiding her face in the warm spot of the woman's neck, showing no intentions of leaving it anytime soon.
The woman can feel how the emotional turmoil that has her own throat growing into a knot seemed to be reciprocated in the young girl. She keeps her close, hand brushing up and down her back, "We can… we can get you a new dress for that, too. Fit for the occasion ," she offers, making a compromise there. It's been a rough few months for them, and for a mother of two who used to struggle, having another child to raise wasn't precisely gentle on her financial life. They had resorted to sharing and passing along a lot of their clothes, and despite never hearing a single word of complaint from the kids, Joyce knows El would appreciate something that felt like herself for a change.
Finally, she hears a sniff from the girl, and slightly moves back to find her smiling through a couple tears and brushing them off with the back of her hands. "That'd be awesome. Thank you so much," she adds, and it sounds oddly vague, as if aiming way beyond the dress.
"Hey. Of course, El." Joyce wipes the girl's wet cheeks as well, giving her temple a kiss that leaves behind a shimmery grape stain. "Oh!" she moves her thumb to wipe at that as soon as she spots it, laughing at the way it only seems to make a mess on her skin. "Oh, shoot, I think I might have ruined my masterpiece here..." she frowns.
"It's okay… now we're even!" quickly, El shifts to reach Joyce's cheek with her rosy lips, gifting her with a much similar shaped stain, and laughs at the way her mother cringes at the smudgy texture.
They settle comfortably on the bed, putting the makeup and empty soda cans on the nightstand before grabbing the magazines once again. Joyce leans her back against the bed frame, as El rests her head on a pillow against the woman’s lap, and they spend a little going through the pages and finding whatever tests and quizzes they could take. There’s only time for them to discover which Movie Star is their soulmate and what fashion trend is defining their summer before Joyce notices El had slipped into sleep.
She’s about to wake her up and get her under the covers when a figure appears by her door, bringing her heart to her throat on a startle.
“Jeez! Jonathan!” the woman brings both hands to her chest, the scare having El shifting on her sleep. “I didn’t even hear you guys getting home.”
“We didn’t wanna disturb the sleepover ,” he smiles, “ Nice makeup. ”
Joyce gives him a warning look, but proceeds still. “Can you turn off the music? I’m a little caught up being a pillow here,” she offers, nodding towards the girl. “And it’s El’s first try at the whole makeup thing, so be nice.”
Her oldest is already maneuvering the record player as he looks back at her with half a smile, “I meant your cheek ,” to which the woman takes a hand to her features, frowning at the reminder that there was still a kiss stain on both their faces.
She gives him an annoyed look, but quickly it develops into a smile. “You want one too?” the mother questions, motioning for him to come closer, immediately laughing at the way he shakes his head.
“No, thanks… mom !” he cries out, dodging her hands in a heartfelt laugh.
“Did you guys have fun?!” appears Will by the door, already in his pajamas, the louder tone of his voice enough to wake his sister up.
“You’re back already!” sleepily notes El, straightening her back. Joyce brings her close to the bed frame, fixing a pillow under her head.
“Oh, I know . Someone wants in on our sleepover now...” adds the woman, winking at El. “Sorry boys, it’s a girls only zone here tonight. But, I wanna hear about your movie night tomorrow.” she offers, the gentle look on her face already thanking the boys for giving her and El a little time for themselves.
“It was super gory, though, mom.” advises Will with a smirk, giving his older brother an encouraging look from his spot by the door.
“Yeah… brains all over it, and blood…” Jonathan intervenes, clearly making things up as he goes, only to mess with their mom.
“I’ll make an effort for you guys.” finally Joyce replies, laying a blanket over a still sleepy El before fixing a pillow where her own head will be laying. She brings both arms out one last time, giving both her boys a pleading look. “Come on, give mom a kiss,” in a similar way she told them the same when they were kids.
This time, both Jonathan and Will approach her, giving their mother a proper pair of goodnight hugs. They dart their way towards their sister as well, messing with her bangs and whispering a quiet “Night, El!” on their way out of the room.
“El. Sweetie,” Joyce calls out at last, seeing as the girl struggles to keep her eyes open. “I forgot we shouldn’t really sleep with makeup on, baby. You wanna take it off?”
“Tomorrow,” mumbles El, and the woman can’t really blame her, knowing it’s a little past her bedtime already.
“Okay. Just this time,” she replies, tugging her in but moving out of the bed anyway. “Be right back, I’ll just go to the bathroom.” she warns as the girl shifts to look at her. Joyce turns on her bedside lamp and dismisses the brighter light of the room on her way out, leaving El on the comfortable half light as she heads towards the bathroom.
There, she’s as quick as washing her face and brushing her teeth, only really taking a few moments to more carefully observe the girl’s job on her features with a smile. Returning to her room, Joyce walks on tiptoes and apprehensively lays on the bed, getting another blanket for herself in an attempt to not disturb the girl. She thinks she must’ve done a good job, as El rests quietly by her side still, but then hears her daughter’s voice, small and quiet.
“Joyce?” El lies on her side, back turned to the woman, but her face is turned to look at her as she asks.
“Hey,”
“Thank you for the sleepover.”
“Yeah? We didn’t even watch anything, I thought maybe-” Joyce is quick on doubting herself, but El doesn’t seem to have wanted anything but the time they spent together for the night.
“I had a really good time.” she simply replies, smiling reassuringly.
“Me too, honey. Have a good night, okay? I’m making us something yummy in the morning.” she promises, noting how El’s eyes spark up even in the half light. She notices how the girl’s breathing finds a calm pattern not long after, and stays still in the hour that follows, her mind still racing over nothing in particular. Joyce is not too good at sleeping anymore, not really trusting that there won’t be nightmares when she does, not really having someone for her on the other side of them when she wakes up. And so she stays there, thinking until sleep finally wins her over, but when she does, there’s a smile resting involuntarily on her face. She has happiness even through the pain, through the grief and the fear. She has her family, at least, and in them a good reason to go on.