I wanted to know what she was big on, outside of losing herself in books, movies and music. Not that any of that was bad or unusual for a teenage girl.
It was just that I couldn’t use any of it to get in there.
Another idea struck me and I moved to her dresser. I ran a finger along a bottle tipped sideways and not righted, scoring a line through the dust.
Then I looked back to her and grinned. “See you’re not big on makeup either.”
“What’s the point?” she asked.
“I hear you,” I replied. “You’re so pretty, it really isn’t needed.”
Her eyes, having drifted away, shot to me.
Telling.
Sad and telling.
God, I needed an in!
I glanced at the makeup before looking back to her. “You’ve got a lot of it for not being into it.”
“Mom made a big thing of it when I turned fourteen,” she told me. “She and Dad agreed I could wear it when I did, so she took me out and bought me a bunch, had some of her friends over. They all showed me how to use it, made it into a party.”
“That sounds really sweet,” I said softly, and it did. Rhiannon had done that up right.
She shrugged again.
“Do you wear it when you’re at her place?” I asked.
“Not really,” she answered.
She was giving me nothing and I was beginning to feel like I was encroaching on her time and space, and maybe being a bit creepy, so I started to make my way to the door.
“Okay, then, enough chitchat, I gotta get on making dinner.” I stopped with my hand on the door and looked to her. “You get done with your movie, honey, jump in the shower and put on some clothes so you’ll be warm when we have s’mores time. And I hope it finishes early. I cook by myself a lot. I like to have company.”
I was a mom. I had kids. I was a master at subtle mom-guilt manipulation.
“’Kay, will do if it finishes early,” she said.
She wasn’t coming out until dinner. I knew it.
Even oblivious to guilt manipulation.
This was bad.
I beat back a disappointed sigh and instead smiled. “Right, blossom. Enjoy the movie.”
She nodded and looked back to the TV.
But being Ash, I didn’t hear it go back on until I’d shut the door.
* * * * *
An hour and a half later, after Mickey shouted dinner was ready then went back outside with Cillian to tend the fire, Aisling wandered out.
She was no longer in her PJ’s but she still hadn’t showered.
I said nothing about this and instead beamed at her. “Great news!”
She gifted me with her eyes twinkling and her lips quirking at my excitement before she asked, “What?”
“Your dad said we could redecorate your room. We don’t have a massive budget, but I’m sure we can get some paint, some new bedclothes, maybe some new rugs for the floor. Not that I know if you have rugs on your floor since I can’t see your floor,” I ended on a tease.
The twinkling stopped as she hauled herself up on a stool and replied without enthusiasm, “Cool.”
“So, when you come back from your mom’s, you wanna go out with me?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she answered. “I’ll let you know.”
“Ash—” I started but was interrupted when Cillian threw open the sliding glass door and did it speaking.
Or, actually, yelling.
“She lives!”
Ash didn’t have much of a reaction to that either, not even a retort to her brother’s teasing.
“You missed Frisbee,” he informed her, sauntering in, straight to his own stool.
“You’re the Frisbee king, Cill,” she replied. “I’m the movie queen.”
“Whatevs,” he muttered then looked to me. “Dinner ready, Amy?”
“It is, kiddo.” I looked between them. “You guys wanna help me with plates and stuff?”
“Sure,” Cill answered.
Aisling said nothing but she did slide off her stool.
“I’m gonna eat mine out by the fire,” Cillian announced.
“It’s freezing out there, honey. It’ll get cold,” I told him.
“I eat fast,” he told me.
This was true.
The sliding door opened again and I looked to it to see Mickey coming in.
His eyes went from me to Ash and back to me before he raised his brows.
I shook my head.
The worry slithered through his features again before he hid it.
We got dinner together. We ate it in front of the TV (except Cill, who ate his outside by the fire) and Mickey did this sitting close to his daughter instead of me. He also did it teasing her by bumping her foot with his or elbowing her until she cried out in a way she didn’t mean, “Stop it, Dad!” to which he replied fake innocently, “Stop what?” To that she gifted him with rolled eyes and a smile she tried but couldn’t hide, and as Mickey continued to do it, she started sighing audibly and heavily, but said no more.
It was cute.
But it didn’t work.
After dinner, we did the cleanup. Then everyone got bound up in jackets and scarves and we went out and made s’mores.
Aisling had three.
Then she went back inside to her room to watch a movie.
* * * * *
I lay naked in my tub leaned back against Mickey, who was, obviously, naked with me. He had his arms around me, his knees cocked beside me as I drifted the bubbly water with my hands and stared out to the sea.
It was Sunday. A Sunday where my hopes of trying new ploys with Aisling were foiled when she announced at breakfast that some of her friends wanted to go to a movie then do some hanging, and that one of her friends’ parents had agreed to do the carting around. Mickey said she could go.
The good news about this included Aisling showering before she went.
The bad news included me not being able to try new ploys.
Not long after, Cillian announced one of his friends wanted him over for a day of gaming, which also included his friend’s mom offering to come pick him up and bring him home.
Mickey agreed to that too but both his kids had the caveat that they were home for dinner so he could make sure they were both done with homework and ready for next week’s school. I figured he also agreed because he was losing them for a week and he wanted them home for one last dinner.
In the meantime, my kids had texted me and said they’d be over for dinner and to spend the night and Auden had added, We’re staying until Wednesday, if that’s cool with you.
It absolutely was so I’d agreed.