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Tue, May 19 2026, 1:44am PDT [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: [1], 2, 3, 4 ]

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Date Posted: Sun, Jul 06 2003, 5:36pm PDT
Author: .the.mcallistors.
Subject: .daddy.i'm.getting.married.but.you.won't.walk.me.down.the.aisle.will.you?.
In reply to: Erica -- Di 's message, "toddlers..circles." on Sun, Jul 06 2003, 4:29pm PDT

“Justin, I already know we’ll never be them…” Emma whispered, looking at him intently ‘fore glancing towards her feet, and then staring intently at the brightly-colored toe-nails. All the while, in silence, Emma was willing herself to disappear. “Mm-hm… tell them,” she murmured quietly in reply to Justin, “Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” There was no way in hell Justin could know how afraid she was of revealing their engagement… I mean, Owen and Erica had just announced theirs – and look what had happened to them! Emma wanted to avoid all parental harassment, if possible – and blabbing out that her and Justin would soon be Mr. and Mrs. Simmons, was definitely not a sure way to avoid anything. Emma shifted uncomfortably on her toes, her hand squeezing the life out of Justins… “Mom, uh, Dad… I… We… Justin and I, are… doing the same thing that Erica and Owen are… We’re, y’know… engaged.” Lifting her hazel eyes from the ground, she presented her parents with a shakey – but happy smile, ‘fore she glanced to Justin. Every single organ inside Emma seemed to quiver as she anticipated Mommy-and-Daddy-not-so-dearest’s replies.


Wedding preference. Hmm… Owen didn’t really have one. As far as he was concerned – skipping off to Vegas with Erica was totally a-ok, s’long as they ended up as husband and wife. “Mom,” Owen pushed – in a firm tone, all in an attempt to shut his babbling Mother up for one second… or even half of that. “Um… Well, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your planning skills, or your ideas on the wedding – or quantity of children we should have, but… Well, Erica and I were sort of looking forward to planning these things ourselves. Y’know… like, later.” With a weak smile, Owen nodded toward his mother as if to justify his statement, ‘fore looking down at Erica. “Isn’t that right, Ricky?” Both the heavy eyebrows ‘pon Owen’s brow were raised, his eyes placed on her – searching for answers. Gently, he hand pressed forth a little squeeze, urging her on to now help him, to agree – so that they could split ASAP! All Owen wanted to do right now was get himself, and Erica, the hell out of here… and away from his physco parents! As far as he was concerned, Erica had been exposed to their mental ways for long enough already, he didn’t want them to poison her views on him… so that meant they had to leave here running at top speed… which really wouldn’t be a problem for Owen.


Joe had just finished watching a double-skipper-flat-rock dodge into the murky water, when Di settled down beside. Ashamed, and embarrassed, Joe didn’t even glance at the girl, and instead – pretended to be oh-so-focused on the rocks he held in his lightly-calloused palms. For a few awkward moments, Joe just said nothing, although he listened. Oh yeah, he listened like he’d never listened before. He felt like he could hear everything – the sound of the grass as it was ruffled by a light breeze, the gentle ripple of the stream before him, and the soft breathing of Di. All that listening payed off when suddenly Di spoke to him about him already living large – without her help. And even after she had spoken, he kept listening… just listening to the silence. Finally, the whole listening act drove him crazy… and by the time that happened – Joe found out that it was his place to reply to Di’s short statement. After flicking his last pebble into the water, he kind of glanced towards Di, his eyebrows risen, his expression innocent. “You couldn’t, and haven’t ever brought yourself to kiss someone you shouldn’t have kissed?” He gave her a bit of a weak smile, throwing humor into his words… just like Owen did. “I applaud you.” With a bit of a deep sigh, he turned his hazel eyes back to the water, glancing out on it as if it were some mystical sight that brought wisdom to anyone who watched it for long enough. Somewhere between the watching – and the thinking, came the unconscious whispering… and the whispering went something like this, “I’ve wanted to kiss you… since the moment I met you. And somehow, I know that’s wrong. I feel like it’s wrong... Am I wrong? I don’t want to be right… Don’t let me be right…”


At the quivering statement thrown forewards by Emma’s voice, Mrs. McAllistor seemed to snap out of the grilling-Justin session she’d been in… and began to simply stare at her daughter… her eldest child. “M-M-Married?” The withered lady pressed a frail looking hard to her powdered foreheard. “Dear God… the both of you? My son and my daughter? Well… I do suppose I have a ton of work set out for me, don’t I? I mean, my daughter is getting married to a retard… and my son, well.. he’s just getting married… and well, that’s a scary thought on it’s own.” Susan McAllistor seemed to stop complaining and everything once Owen spoke, his firm tone alerting, and annoying her all at once. With a cry of… well, something, Susan McAllistor lifted her hand from her brow and placed it on her chest, as if to monitor her heart-beat or something. Apalled by her son’s words and actions, she shrieked, “WELL, WHY DON’T I JUST GO AND DIE NOW, SINCE YOU DON’T NEED ME FOR ANYTHING!!!” It took the lady about a moment to compose herself after her outburst, and in that moment, she wiped a stray tear from her eye and fixed her layered eye-makeup in a compact mirror. “Fine,” she finally hissed, her nose pointed high in the air, “Do what you want.”
All this while, Mr. McAllistor the human calculator had continuously ignored both Emma, Justin and his wife’s outburst. The only two people he even tried to consider alive were Erica and Owen, and even then – he didn’t really feel like acknowledging them, since… well… He just didn’t feel like it, because Owen was one of his the people on his least-liked list. But at Emma’s announcement, he was forced to look over at her with a bored expression and mumble, “Good for you, girl.” Yes, he even refused to call her by her name… since the name Emma had been his mother’s, and his supposed first child had been named after her. But then again, that first child had never really been his… had it? No, it hadn’t.


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