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Artwork by Lademonessa
Felicity stood on the third step of their staircase with her head tilted back as she shouted to the third floor, “Rebecca Dearden Smoak, get your butt down here this instant. Dinner is ready.” Felicity sighed as she realized that the only response she was getting from her daughter was silence. She’d returned home from work to find Rebecca screaming at Tommy with tears streaming down her face and the twins in a screaming match of their own over a holo tablet.
Oliver came up behind her and wrapped his arms around Felicity’s waist. He pressed a kiss behind her ear, “Is she still up there sulking?”
“How are we ever going to survive puberty?” Felicity asked.
“She’s seven,” Oliver reminded her, “puberty is still a few years off – I hope.” He tilted his head back and growled in his best Green Arrow voice, “Rebecca. Now.”
The sound of feet running on the third floor had Felicity counting to three. It infuriated her that Becca jumped whenever Oliver told her to, but when either she or Tommy told her to do something it became an epic battle of wills.
Felicity followed Oliver into the kitchen. Tommy was dishing their dinner into serving bowls as William finished setting the table. The twins were putting themselves into their booster seats and Bobby was reading from one tablet and taking notes in another. Felicity placed a kiss on her eldest son’s head, “Finish what you’re writing, but then I don’t want to see either tablet for the rest of dinner.”
Bobby nodded absently as he continued to write. Felicity found it hard to believe that in less than a month her baby would be eleven. He was already doing calculus, studying physics and writing fairly sophisticated code. It was only a matter of time before she and her husbands would have to make a decision about what to do about Bobby’s education. He might be enrolling at university at a younger age than she did.
Felicity sat down between the twins, William sat down opposite from her and was flanked by Bobby and Becca. Oliver and Tommy placed their meal in the center of the table and took their seats at the head of the table. Tommy placed his hand on the back of Bobby’s neck until his son looked at him. Bobby smiled sheepishly and gathered up his tablets and placed them on the kitchen counter.
“Have you decided where you want to go on your birthday outing?” William asked Bobby. Ever since William moved to Starling City to attend college he took his siblings out for a birthday adventure. He let them choose where they went and what they did for a whole day. Bobby and Becca loved spending time with their big brother and always gave lots of thought to where they’d ask him to take them. The twins fourth birthday was their first solo adventure outing with their big brother and they’d requested a day at the zoo, together. They were already plotting their fifth birthday.
“I thought you could take me to the laser lab at Applied Sciences,” Bobby said as he scooped potatoes onto his plate.
“Bobby, you can come see me at the lab anytime, besides,” he leaned in closer to his brother, “I was hoping you’d give me an excuse to not spend a Saturday working.”
Felicity grinned as she put chicken on the twins’ plates. William was a godsend for Bobby. He was able to draw him out from his books and get him to enjoy being a kid.
“Can we play laser tag?” Bobby asked his brother while eyeing Oliver nervously. Oliver didn’t like guns, even ones that only shot harmless beams of light.
Oliver put down his fork as he realized his entire family was staring at him, “If that’s how you want to spend your day, I’m not going to stop you.”
“Thanks, dad,” Bobby said as he shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.
“As long as you realize that guns aren’t toys and that you never point one at any one,” Oliver said sternly, “ever.”
“If I don’t point my laser gun at Will, how am I going to win?” Bobby challenged Oliver.
“Bobby,” Tommy said before Oliver could change his mind about allowing their eldest to play laser tag, “your dad just wants you to remember that, normally, guns are meant to hurt people and they aren’t for play. Okay?”
“I promise to only point laser guns at people,” he said to Oliver.
“I want to go too,” Prue chimed in.
“When you’re big enough, I promise to take you,” William winked at his sister.
Prue cocked her head to the side, “How big do I have to be?”
“As tall as Becks,” William held up his hand to indicate how tall his sister needed to be.
“Mommy,” Prue looked to Felicity, “how long before I’m as tall as Becks?”
“It’s going to be a few years, sweetie.” Felicity tapped the edge of Prue’s plate, “You need to eat your dinner so you grow tall and strong.” Their youngest daughter was undersized for her age and their eldest daughter was the tallest in her class – girl or boy. Felicity feared her youngest would forever be playing catch-up with her peers, especially if she continued to refuse to eat.
Prue shook her head, “My tummy hurts.”
“You have to eat,” Nate leaned in front of his mom to look at his twin. “It tastes good.” Nate picked up a piece of chicken with his fingers and put it in his mouth. “Try some,” he encouraged with a full mouth.
Tommy handed Nate his fork and reminded him, “This isn’t finger food and we don’t talk with our mouths full.”
Nate took the fork and held it in his right hand as he picked up a piece of potato in his left and popped it into his mouth. Tommy bit his lip trying not to smile as their son continued to eat with his fingers as he waved his fork around. Felicity rolled her eyes and reached behind her son and guided his fork to spear a piece of chicken. Nate looked at her with a huge grin and used the fork to put the chicken into his mouth.
“I want a pair of Looker jeans,” Becca said to Oliver.
William choked on his sip of water.
Tommy looked up from his dinner and with ice in his voice said, “I already told you, no.”
“I didn’t ask you. I asked daddy,” Becca said petulantly.
From the look on Oliver’s face it was clear to Felicity that he had no idea what Becca was talking about, “Looker is Lia Brigg’s fashion line.” When Oliver continued to look at her blankly she said, “She’s the Kim Kardashian of today, but without the class.”
Oliver looked alarmed, “If your da already told you no, then the answer is no.”
“Da’s just being mean,” Becca complained.
“Becca, I told you that you’re too young to wear Looker jeans. They’re not appropriate,” Tommy said calmly. “This discussion is over. Eat your dinner.”
“All of the girls at school are wearing them,” Becca scowled.
“I don’t care,” Tommy said, “they’re not my daughters.”
“You bought William a motorcycle,” Becca said to Oliver.
“When you graduate from college, you can have a pair of Looker jeans,” Tommy said.
“We’re not getting you a pair of seven hundred dollar jeans,” Felicity said to her daughter as she realized what Tommy and Becca must’ve been fighting about when she got home.
“Who cares?” Becca folded her arms across her chest, “We’re rich.”
The sound of the adult’s silverware clattering against their dishes echoed throughout their kitchen. The twins looked up at the sudden tension in the room.
“Excuse me,” Felicity said sternly to her daughter. “We, who?”
Becca looked around the table and then back at Felicity like she was stupid, “You can afford to buy them for me because we’re rich,” Becca said without regard for how angry she was making her mom. “The girls at school say that we’re the richest people in the city and maybe even the state.”
As much as Tommy and Oliver wanted their children to have different childhoods then their own, it was nearly impossible to avoid all the trappings of their extreme wealth. The children lived in a large, beautiful home. They drove around in nice cars, flew on private jets and had personal security. They made sure that the children weren’t spoiled with material belongings and had chores around the house. Presents were reserved for birthdays and holidays. If the children wanted something and a birthday or holiday wasn’t approaching, they were allowed to use their allowance money to buy it. The children, however, had found a loophole to this rule and the loophole was called, Grandma and Grandpas. Captain Lance was the worst offender. Every time he took the children anywhere, their visits always seemed to end in a toy store. Felicity wanted them to understand the value of a dollar and that adults worked hard in order to provide things for their families and that they couldn’t always get something just because they wanted it. Donna had worked extremely hard to provide for Felicity, but there were some lean times when choices had to be made between rent and food. She was grateful that her children would never know the fear and uncertainty she’d known in her own childhood, but she worried that, despite her best efforts, her children might still grow up with a sense of entitlement. Felicity looked her daughter in her eyes, “Your dads and I are rich. You, my daughter, are broke. Your dads and I work very hard for the things we have and you’re extremely lucky.”
“Da doesn’t work hard,” Becca sneered, “he doesn’t even have a job.”
In the nearly eleven years of being a mother, Felicity had never raised a hand to one of her children. In the moment after the words left her daughter’s mouth, Felicity had wanted to slap her. She silently counted backwards from ten in order to regain her composure. Tommy took enough crap from the outside world about his role as a stay-at-home dad, he didn’t need to be getting any from his own unappreciative seven-year-old. Normally, Becca was not a cruel child. She frequently felt the need to get in the last word, Felicity felt responsible for that, but she wasn’t unkind. Becca was her mother’s daughter in so many ways, but she had Tommy’s giant heart and her current behavior was completely unrecognizable. The look of smug spite on her child’s face made her angry, “Apologize to your dad, right now.”
“No,” Becca said angrily.
“You said something mean just to hurt your dad’s feelings,” Felicity said sharply. “Tell him that you’re sorry.”
“I’m not sorry,” Becca said defiantly as she looked directly at Tommy. “It’s the truth. He doesn’t work hard.”
Felicity’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. She tossed her napkin onto her plate and addressed her daughter, “Stand up.”
“No,” Becca said defiantly.
“Say goodnight to everyone because you’re done for the evening.” Felicity moved around the table and gestured for Becca to get up, “You’re going to bed.”
“Da doesn’t have a job,” the seven-year-old repeated as she held her ground.
“Your da has the most important job in this family,” Felicity explained. “He takes care of the four of you.”
Becca rolled her eyes, “Well, if that’s his job, he’s bad at it.”
Before Felicity could respond, Oliver’s hand slammed onto the table, “That – is – enough. Rebecca Dearden Smoak, your mother told you to stand up.” Oliver stared down his seven-year-old until she stood up. “Apologize to your father.” When she hesitated, he growled, “Right now.”
“No,” Becca said rising to her feet.
“Your dad loves you very much and doesn’t deserve to be spoken to that way.” Oliver pointed towards the hallway, “Go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas. I’ll be up in fifteen minutes and you better be in bed when I come upstairs.” Becca shot a glare at Felicity and Tommy before she stomped out of the room. Oliver called after her, “No tablet. In bed with the lights out.”
“I hate you,” Becca screamed from the stairs. “I hate all of you.”
Oliver held out Felicity’s chair and she sat down with a shaky exhalation of breath. Tommy sat stone-faced and stared at his plate. When Oliver returned to his own seat he said, “Let’s finish dinner.” He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, “Why don’t you guys tell me what the best part of your day was? Who wants to start?” he asked the children in what was his nightly ritual.
“I saw a frog,” Nate said enthusiastically as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It was in the garden. Da caught it for me so I could touch it. It was bumpy. I wanted to keep it, but da said it’s family would miss it too much if it came to live with us. I was going to draw it but the green crayon was missing from the box.”
Oliver’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, “That sounds like it was fun.” He turned to his eldest, “How about you?”
William wrinkled his nose and then blushed, “Emma agreed to go out to dinner with me.”
“Oh,” Felicity sighed with relief, “thank goodness. That was getting painful to watch. So many heart eyes.” William had been mooning over Bobby’s tutor for years. The “Wilma” situation, or, lack of a situation had been a topic for discussion for years between Oliver, Tommy and Felicity. She turned to Tommy, “It looks like you won the bet.”
Tommy looked up and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes, “I knew one of them was going to break soon. I see Emma every day. William said the funniest thing. William is so smart. William’s hair is so shiny and the color of summer wheat under a clear blue sky,” Tommy teased.
“She didn’t say that, did she?” William asked almost hopefully.
Tommy smiled enigmatically and took another bite of his dinner. Felicity covered her smile when she saw Oliver blush. Tommy had once recited a love poem he’d written in their high school senior English class. He’d compared his lover’s hair to summer wheat under a clear blue sky. Everyone had assumed the poem had been about a girl in their class, but Oliver had known the truth. Oliver had admitted to Felicity that after school that day, Tommy had gone home with him and he’d recited the poem to him as they fooled around on his bed. It was the first time they’d orgasmed together while sober and the closest they’d ever come to breaking their no hands below the waist rule in high school.
“What are heart eyes?” Bobby asked.
“It’s what your brother looks like when he looks at Emma,” Felicity teased.
“Oh, you mean, dopey,” Bobby took another bite of his dinner.
“I don’t look dopey,” William grumbled.
“I’m glad,” Oliver said softy. “Where are you going to take her?”
William shrugged, “Curtis said I’m not to be trusted and that he and Paul will plan it.”
Tommy laughed, “You do realize that letting Curtis plan your date is a mistake?”
“It’ll be fine,” Oliver said attempting to be reassuring, “Paul’s helping.”
“How about you Bobby?” Oliver leaned forward, “What was the best part of your day?”
“That’s easy,” Bobby grinned. “You said I could play laser tag.”
It was Oliver’s turn to laugh, “I’m glad I made someone happy today.”
Oliver turned to Prue and held out his arms. He always asked her last, because she could never think of just one thing. Prue was a happy child and saw the best in everything. When Prue climbed into his arms he asked, “What do you have for me today, snuggle bug?”
Prue snuggled against Oliver like a spider monkey. She looked up at her dad and began her list, “We played with dolls at school. Da took us to the park and I went down the slide three times and then da pushed me on the swings. We had cheesy mac for lunch. Nate pet a frog. I found my green crayon in my toy box so Nate can draw his frog tomorrow. Bobby is going to play laser tag. Emma is going to dinner with William. She has pretty red hair. I wish I had red hair. If William and Emma get married, Emma will be my sister – Grace told me.” Prue pulled gently on Oliver’s shirt and whispered, “I think you should let Becca get the jeans. She’s sad. The girls at school are mean to her and she doesn’t have any friends.”
The adults all blanched at their youngest’s declaration. “It’s nice that you’re worried about your sister,” Oliver nuzzled her cheek, “but you should let your mom, dad and I worry about that.”
“What was your best part of the day?” Prue asked.
“Coming home to all of you,” Oliver said with a smile.
“Daddy, you always say that,” Nate laughed.
“Because it’s always true.” Oliver looked up at his husband as he fed a small piece of chicken to Prue, “Your turn, buddy. What was the best part of your day?”
Tommy closed the door to the kitchen, closing out the sounds of the cartoon that the twins were watching, “We’ve got to get her out of that school.”
“Tommy,” Oliver looked up from the dishwasher he was loading with exasperation.
“Ollie, that school is turning our daughter into a monster.” Tommy sat on the counter, “We always said that we wouldn’t let our children turn into us. Rebecca is turning into us. She thinks she’s entitled to whatever she wants.”
“She’s seven,” Oliver reasoned, “and she had a bad day.”
“Show him what she wants,” Tommy looked at Felicity.
Felicity opened the browser on her tablet and searched for an image of a child in Looker jeans. Even if she didn’t agree with Tommy that the jeans were inappropriate for a seven-year-old, she found the price tag horrifying, especially since Becca seemed to be growing a half an inch a month. Her daughter appeared to have inherited her Grandma Rebecca’s mile long legs. Tommy’s mom had been 5’9” and if Becca kept growing at her current rate she’d be that tall before high school. Felicity handed the tablet back to Oliver and braced herself for his reaction.
“These are for children?” Oliver asked skeptically. “They look painted on and barely cover this kid’s bottom.”
“All of those girls are wearing them,” Tommy said with disgust. “She didn’t start behaving like this until we placed her in Westminster Prep. I think we should put her back in the public schools.”
Oliver wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist, “I’m sorry, but we didn’t have a choice. We needed to keep her safe.”
“The other girls at the school are a bad influence,” Tommy said hopping off the counter and out of Oliver’s arms. “Today it’s low rise jeans, tomorrow it will be alcohol, drugs and sex. How is that keeping her safe?” Tommy pointed to his chest, “She’s our daughter and she has my genes. You know what I was like - what you were like. Do you want that for her?”
“Tommy,” Felicity cautioned. She understood his fears but Becca was seven and it was unfair to place the burden of her dads’ terrible behavior on her small shoulders.
Oliver cupped Tommy’s cheek, “This is totally different. She isn’t you and you’re not Malcolm.”
Tommy leaned into Oliver’s hand before pulling away, “I know she just wants to fit in, but I’ll be damned if I let her start down a path that leads to her spending her teens and twenties in a haze of drugs and alcohol.”
“Hey,” Oliver eyed the door, “we can’t discuss this right now.”
The kitchen door opened and Bobby rushed through, “Mom, can you help me with my homework? I think I’m using the wrong equation and I don’t think William knows what he’s talking about.”
“Sure thing, monkey.” Felicity handed her dish towel to Tommy, “I’m sure your brother is right, but let’s figure it out together.”
Felicity looked up from the floor of the children’s bathroom when Oliver leaned against the doorframe. Nate and Prue were in the tub narrating an elaborate submarine adventure involving, the Flash, a shark and a My Little Pony. Truth be told, she’d kind of lost the thread of the adventure when the Flash and the shark took a break from fighting to order a pizza that was delivered by a loofah. She held out her hand and Oliver helped her to her feet.
“How is she?” Felicity asked quietly enough for the twins not to hear.
Oliver sighed and Felicity reached up to run her fingers across his furrowed brow. He dropped his head in defeat, “She didn’t say a word to me. She didn’t even look at me.”
“Maybe she just needs her mom,” Felicity squeezed his hand in sympathy. Oliver and Tommy were great fathers, but neither really understood what it was like to want to fit in and to fail at it.
“Okay,” Oliver said with relief, “I’ll get these two monkeys into bed.”
“Do you remember the first time we thought that having children was a good idea?” she rested her head on his chest.
“It was a good idea,” Oliver kissed her nose when she looked up at him, “our mistake was teaching them to speak.”
She snapped her fingers, “Too late now.”
“Good luck,” he winked at her as he sat on the lowered toilet lid and began to watch the underwater drama the twins were enacting.
“Where’s Tommy?” Felicity asked from the hallway.
“He and William took Tess for a walk to discuss the big first date,” Oliver looked a little pained. “I think he’s had a long day and needed some air.”
Felicity tapped the doorframe twice before she made her way down the hall to Becca’s bedroom. She didn’t blame Tommy for needing some air. If Becca had been acting up over the Looker jeans since she got home from school, it wasn’t any wonder that Tommy went for a walk. She’d only been home for two hours and she wouldn’t say no to a bottle of red with a straw in it.
Becca was still sprawled across her bed where Oliver had left her. The nightlight illuminated the tears that streamed down her daughter’s face as Felicity knelt in front of her. The look of anguish she saw broke Felicity’s heart. She brushed the hair from Becca’s eyes, “Can you tell me why your dads and I sent you to your room?”
Becca nodded her head, “I was being mean and rude to da.”
“When he comes home from walking Tess, I need you to apologize. Can you do that?” Becca nodded at her mom so Felicity continued, “You hurt his feelings and made him sad.”
“He made me sad,” Becca said quietly.
Felicity stood up and lifted Becca up enough so she could sit on the bed and hold her in her lap. She wrapped her arms around her child, “Why were you feeling sad?”
Becca shrugged, “I want the jeans.”
“Why do you want them?” Felicity was genuinely curious. Becca had never expressed an interest in fashion beyond an extreme fondness for purple.
“All of the girls at school have them,” Becca twisted Felicity’s wedding and engagement rings on her finger. “They say I’m a baby because I don’t have them and that I play with dolls. They say I’m a nerd because I get one hundreds on all of my tests.”
As she expected, Becca’s interest in the jeans had less to do with the jeans and more to do with peer pressure. “First of all, being smart isn’t something for you to be ashamed of. One day you’ll appreciate all the incredible things your brain will do for you and those girls will be envious of you. I’ve done pretty well and I’m a nerd. Second, you love your dolls and you should do the things you love,” Felicity hugged her daughter tighter. She wasn’t prepared for Becca to be more interested in jeans than in tea parties. “Mia still plays with dolls.”
Becca smiled at the mention of the cousin she idolized. A cloud crossed in front of her eyes and the smile fell from her face, “The girls at school don’t play with dolls. They say only babies play with dolls.”
“You should do what makes you happy and if playing with dolls makes you happy then you shouldn’t worry about what the girls at school say,” Felicity said knowing that life was rarely that simple.
“The jeans will make me happy,” Becca said brightening up a little. She clearly thought that she’d found the logical argument that would persuade her mom.
Felicity wanted to say yes. She wanted to hand her daughter the jeans and watch her face light up, but she knew that she couldn’t. “Becca, your dads and I would do anything to make you happy, but we also have to make choices for you until your old enough to make them for yourself, even when our decisions make you unhappy. It doesn’t mean that we don’t love you or understand that we are disappointing you. The jeans you want are for older girls.”
“Like Grace?” Becca asked.
“Yes, like Grace,” although Felicity couldn’t’ imagine a world where Dig would be happy to see his teen-aged daughter wearing anything from the Looker label.
“I like my old school better,” Becca said resting her head on Felicity’s shoulder, “the girls were nicer.”
Felicity’s heart broke for her child. As a parent, she wanted to protect Becca from the cruelty of the world, but she also knew that it wasn’t realistic. The fact was, there were mean people and Becca would have to learn how to deal with them. Felicity had been dealing with mean girls her entire life, starting with Tammy Newton in kindergarten all the way to Isabel Rochev. “Girls weren’t always nice to me when I was your age,” Felicity said wanting her daughter to know that she wasn’t alone.
Becca’s eyes went wide, “They weren’t?”
Felicity smiled and shook her head, “They thought I was weird because I dressed funny and talked too fast and liked computers.”
Becca smiled, “You still talk too fast and like computers.”
“That’s true,” Felicity said as she tickled her daughter’s ribs. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
Felicity led Becca to her bedroom. She rummaged through her closet until she found a black and purple box. She kicked off her slippers and climbed onto the middle of her bed and gestured for Becca to join her. She opened the lid of the box to reveal hundreds of photos from her childhood. She sifted through a couple before she found a picture from when she was Becca’s age. In it, she was wearing pink cotton shorts covered with white and purple hearts, a turquoise Mr. Square Bear t-shirt and yellow sandals. Her light brown hair was a loose frizzy riot of curls. She was wearing a pair of large-framed glasses that were robin’s egg blue. If it weren’t for the glasses and her short legs, it could be mistaken for a picture of Becca.
Becca took the picture from her mom and studied it. Her finger traced along her mom’s face. Becca pulled her braid forward and looked at the end of it. She took hold of Felicity’s ponytail and held the ends of them together, “Why is your hair a different color now?”
Felicity laughed, “Mostly to cover my gray.”
Becca looked at her skeptically, “You say that da’s gray makes him look distinguished.”
Tommy had recently started to have a little salt mixed in with his pepper and was a bit sensitive about it. She thought he looked sexy, but she’d always thought he looked sexy. She started to notice the gray in her own hair when she was pregnant with the twins and had a bit of an emotional crisis about it. She acknowledged the double standard that celebrated a man’s aging while forcing women to feel the need to color their hair and inject poison into their faces. What had originally been a style choice had become a little bit about her vanity. She colored her hair to cover her gray, but she’d, so far, resisted the plastic surgery craze that so many other society women partook of. Felicity was lucky to have two men who loved her and her forty-one-year-old body that had stretch marks, a C-section scar and breasts that were no longer perky.
“Right before I moved from Boston to Starling, I colored my hair blonde. I was looking to make a change and I thought coloring my hair would be fun,” Felicity explained.
“Was it this color in college?” Becca asked holding up Felicity’s childhood picture.
Felicity rummaged through the box until she found the picture she was looking for. She held it to her chest before turning to show it to her daughter. Becca’s eyes went wide and she took the picture from her mom, “Wow.”
Felicity laughed at her daughter’s shocked expression, “That’s what your daddy said the first time he saw this picture.”
“What did da say?” Becca asked as she continued to stare at the picture.
Felicity could feel herself blushing. Tommy hadn’t so much said what he thought of that picture, his had been a much more physical reaction. “He thought I looked pretty.”
“Your hair has purple in it,” Becca said with amazement.
Felicity laughed at her daughter’s delight, “It did have some purple.”
Becca looked at the picture and then crawled over to her mom. She touched her nose and tilted Felicity’s head back and forth, “What happened to the hole?”
“When I left college, I took out my nose ring, but I kept this,” Felicity turned her head so Becca could see her industrial piercing. There were a few times, over the years, when she’d contemplated removing it, but she’d never been able to bring herself to do so. If it survived four infants and toddlers tugging on it, it could survive her aging.
Becca’s finger traced along her mom’s earring, “Can I get my ears pierced?”
“Do you want to get your ears pierced?” Felicity asked placing Becca’s braids over her shoulders.
Becca nodded eagerly.
“I’ll have to talk to your dads first, but I think so,” Felicity said with a smile.
“I can’t believe Gram let you dye your hair purple,” Becca said with awe.
“You’ve met your grandmother, right?” Felicity teased which set Becca into a fit of giggles.
A light knock sounded on the door. Felicity looked up to find Tommy leaning against the frame with a soft smile on his face, “I’m home. William left, Bobby’s finishing up his homework and Ollie is reading to the twins.”
“Da,” Becca held out her hand, “come see.”
Tommy pushed off the door and joined his wife and daughter on the bed. He smiled when he looked at the picture Becca handed him, “Your mom was something else.” He leaned over and kissed Felicity on the cheek, “She still is.”
Becca rested her hand on Tommy’s stomach, “I’m sorry, da.”
Tommy lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, “I accept your apology.”
Becca snuggled against Tommy and rested her head on his chest, “Da?”
“Yes, my darling,” Tommy stroked the top of her head.
“Tell me about the day I was born,” she tilted her head back so she could see his face.
Tommy’s face lit up at the olive branch his daughter was extending, “Well, it was my birthday and your mom woke me up to tell me two things. The first thing she told me was, happy birthday. The second thing she told me was that my present was coming.”
“I was your present,” Becca said with a smile.
Tommy tickled his daughter’s sides, “Who’s telling this story?” Becca giggled and he continued, “I was holding your mom’s hand when you were born and the doctor held you up for us to see and she said, it’s a girl. I thought I was going to burst from happiness. The nurse took you to weigh and clean up and then she handed you to me. You were wrapped up in a white blanket with a pink hat and you were so tiny.” Tommy’s eyes shone with tears and he held out his arm, “Your head fit in the palm of my hand and your feet barely reached my elbow. You were screaming your lungs out, but as soon as she put you in my arms, you stopped. You just looked at me and I’d never seen anything so perfect. I said, hello, my beautiful girl. You are -,”
“the best present I’ve ever gotten,” Becca said along with him, “and I love you.”
“You still are and always will be my best birthday present,” Tommy kissed the top of her head.
“Da, finish the story,” Becca prompted.
“Then, I sang, Happy Birthday, and, Here Comes The Sun, and then your dad said,”
Becca sat up and with a smile on her face she said, “Tommy, stop hogging our daughter.”
“And then I said,” Tommy’s face was lit up in a huge smile.
“Ollie, it’s my birthday and she’s my present and I’m not done hogging her,” Becca finished.
Felicity laughed as her daughter toppled over giggling. For whatever reason, Becca found Oliver and Tommy’s conversation hysterical. No matter how many times she heard the story, it never failed to make her dissolve into laughter. Becca was the only one of their children who asked to hear the story of the day they were born, over and over again.
“Are you laughing about how your dad hogged you that night,” Oliver said as he entered the room. He scooped Becca into his arms, “The minute your mom fell asleep, I had to wrestle you from his arms just to hold you for a minute. You were a lot smaller then, but I held you just like this and I said,”
“I’m your daddy and I’m going to love you forever,” Becca said with a grin.
He kissed her cheek, “Are you ready for bed?”
“I want a story,” Becca declared.
“Go pick one out,” Oliver said as he put her down. “We’ll be right there.”
Becca ran from the room. All signs of tears and anger forgotten.
“Fourteen hours of labor and it’s like I wasn’t even there,” Felicity grumbled good naturedly as she put the pictures back in the box. She might grumble, but Felicity loved that story. The guys had been so happy the day that Becca was born and Becca loved hearing that story so much that Felicity didn’t mind that it had become something her daughter shared with her dads.
“Is she okay?” Oliver asked.
“I think we’ve moved off the jeans, but she wants to get her ears pierced,” Felicity held her hand out for Oliver to help her to her feet.
Tommy and Oliver looked at one another and both shrugged. Tommy stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, “I think I’m okay with that.”
“It’s okay with me,” Oliver agreed.
“We also need to get her out of that school,” Felicity said, fully prepared for Oliver’s objections.
“Felicity, Westminster has the best security,” Oliver argued.
“That’s the thing, Oliver. She doesn’t feel safe there, she feels unhappy,” Felicity countered. “We can figure out a different security solution, but I don’t want her to be at that school for one more minute than she has to.”
Oliver’s brow furrowed, “Why? Has something happened?”
Felicity squeezed his arm, “There are some mean girls who are making things challenging for her. She only wants the jeans so she can fit in.”
“Is she being bullied?” Oliver growled.
“Relax, Green Arrow,” Felicity set the box of photos on their dresser, “you don’t need to arrow anyone.”
“I don’t want anyone picking on her,” Oliver said with concern.
“Which is why we need to get her out of that school. Tommy’s right, putting her in a school with the children of Starling’s wealthiest families with unlimited resources is going to be an arms race from now until college. Clothes, shoes, hair, make-up, purses, cars, boys – it will be never ending. Let’s face it, she’s more like me than either of you. She’s always going to be the smart, nerdy girl with the frizzy hair and the large front teeth who talks too much and says the wrong thing. She needs to be in a school where her uniqueness will be celebrated and not be ridiculed.”
“They broke into her school and took pictures of her inside her classroom,” Oliver’s fingers rubbed together.
Felicity sighed. She hated that two paparazzi had snuck onto school grounds and burst into Becca’s classroom and began to take pictures of her. Becca had always been shy and afraid of the paparazzi. Whenever the family went out, either Tommy or Oliver held her so she could hide her face against them. Her reticence to show her face when the paparazzi shouted her name had made her a favorite target. Many gossip websites offered top dollars to anyone who got pictures of Rebecca Smoak and the paparazzi had taken to staking out her school. Becca had stopped going out at recess because of all the paparazzi screaming her name. When Tommy picked her up at school, he always had to go inside to get her so he could carry her out. After the incident inside the school, Oliver had, without first consulting Tommy or Felicity, enrolled her at Westminster where there were twenty-foot-high fences and guards.
“And they were arrested, went to jail and paid a fine. Our lawsuit bankrupted them,” Tommy said. “They were made an example of, no one else will try.”
“We don’t know that,” Oliver said angrily. “They scare her. I won’t put her in that situation again.”
Felicity rested her hands against Oliver’s chest, “We don’t want her scared either, but she’s not happy where she is. Let her go back to her friends so she can play with her dolls and not worry about how she looks in jeans. We can figure out the security situation, let Becca be a child. Maybe we should agree to the Vanity Fair article. One family portrait and everyone will lose interest in getting a picture of her.”
Oliver growled and Tommy looked at her like she’d just suggested booking a family vacation in the cells of Nanda Parbat. Tommy put his arm around Oliver’s shoulder and steered him towards the door, “Let’s go read our little girl a story and you can think about Becca’s school tomorrow. We don’t need to decide anything tonight.”
“I’ll talk to Dig about security in the morning,” Oliver said with resignation.
The sound of laughter had all three of them looking towards the door. Felicity pushed her husbands into motion, “So much for everyone being asleep. I’ll take the twins, you take Becca.”
Oliver walked out the door, but Tommy turned around and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close, “I plan on collecting my winnings tonight. Come to bed wearing nothing but your nose ring.”
“What about Oliver?” she asked coyly.
He wrinkled his nose, “Ollie can’t pull off a nose ring. I have other plans for him.”
Felicity laughed as an image of Oliver in a cowboy hat and nothing else came to mind. She rose up on her toes to kiss him, “A bet is a bet and I always pay my debts.” Tommy playfully smacked her bottom as she stepped into the hall and warned the twins, “All four year olds had better be in their beds with the lights off when I get to their room.” Squeals of laughter and the sound of little feet running around made her sigh. The twins weren’t going to go down easily for the night.
Outside of Becca’s door Tommy took hold of her wrist and brushed his lips against Felicity’s ear, “Hurry or we might need to discuss interest payments.”