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Caritas, Saturday

April had a band-aid over one cheek when she got to the bar today: Ben and Derek had booked her a last-minute portal so she could spend the day in Pawnee and they wound up playing roller derby, which April was not as gifted at as her boyfriends had expected she would be.

Anyway, that was her reason for not knowing that Something Was Up on Fandom Island today. But when she made it into the bar a few minutes after her shift was supposed to start and saw Tino wearing a papoose, she made the connection.

"Who's the mom?" she asked.

"The barista," Tino replied proudly.

April blew a straw wrapper at him. Then she ordered him to put up a sign out front.

WE DON'T CARD-ITAS

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Christopher Whitelaw, could you not?

Sometimes moms were really hard to find. Carmen assumed now that she should always have made a beeline to the bar, but... She'd wanted to give her parents the benefit of the doubt.

Until now.

"There you are."

April immediately covered her face with her hands. "You mean Tino," she said. "Tino's behind me. You mean him."

Carmen gave her a very patient smile.

"No, April Ludgate, I mean you."

It was best to be specific.

"I'm not April Ludgate," she lied quickly, not uncovering her face just yet. "I'm... Janet Snakehole."

It was nice to have an alter ego persona to pretend to be, wasn't it?

"Do you have another parent? Someone who isn't actually not your parent?"

Sigh.

"I don't know where Mum is." That was because Sarah had taken off for London this morning. "You can stop pretending now, Mama."

April let out a tired sigh and dropped her hands away from her face, albeit reluctantly. "Okay, fine, I'll be your parent," she mumbled.

She kept having kids with other chicks. That was something to wonder about.

"You're mine and Sarah's? Or some girl version of Jono?"

Carmen smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Sarah's right," she said. "Uncle Jono is just Uncle Jono."

"Lucky Uncle Jono," April groused, though she had the decency to add, "No offense."

It wasn't personal.

"If you're Sarah's and mine, why're you being all... civilized?"

A small hand waved over the bar, and a voice demanded, "Mint ice cream shake!"

"I got all the polite genes that skipped you?"

That wasn't even really her snarking, that was just a popular theory.

Ellie was saving Maeve a spot, and as many cushions as she could pile up in one place. Singing along with the band. Loudly.

Edited 2014-02-16 01:35 (UTC)

"You want vodka in that?"

April was joking. Very, very dryly.

"My parents are pretty civilized," April conceded. Though her sister really wasn't. "Are your other grandparents nice?"

Asking that was probably invading Sarah's privacy in some way, but Sarah wasn't here.

"Yes!" A pause, and Maeve managed to pull herself up enough to see over the bar. "It's for my Mom. You believe me, right?" She added, "Extra whipped cream."

[Maeve is a Mesmer, but a baby one-- if you want her to hypnotize your hand into reaching for the vodka, feel free. Your mind will be unaffected.Otherwise, ignore her attempts as you will.]

"Grandma is. Grandad is too... when Mum isn't around."

Because those two got into epic fights.

"Uh huh," April said, somehow not buying that totally legitimate-sounding lie.

When she turned around to make the drink, her hand kept twitching in the direction of a vodka bottle -- not even a cheap one, but the really nice kind. Obviously a pipsqueak like this girl didn't need anything that expensive, but April did splash maybe a thimble's worth of the cheap stuff into the milkshake.

What? It would cancel out the sugar high.

"That enough whipped cream?" she asked, canister in hand, once the whipped cream level had begun to rise to a precarious height.

"Yes!" Maeve beamed up at April and said pleasantly, "Thank you very much for giving me what I wanted. That was very nice of you."

See, Mom always said if you were gonna mess with people, at least you should be polite.

"Huh." April had never thought to consider Sarah's possible parental issues before. "I would've pictured them all chill and relaxed and British."

Pause. "That's probably where you get the manners from."

Thanks, England.

"Uh huh."

Sigh. Small children.

"Don't mess up the bar," she warned.

"I got us ice cream with booze!" Maeve bounced over with her glass of mostly-whipped-cream and ice cream, and about a tiny thimble of vodka. "Lookit lookit lookit!"

Ellie's eyes went huge. "I'm tellllling. You're not s'posed to do that!"

"Do you want ice cream or not?" Maeve made a face at her sister. "'Cause I can eat it myself if you don't, nyaah."

"NO no no, never mind, here, have a cushion!" Ellie held out one and added, "We should go find Mom and Aunt Bo and Daddy. In a bit. 'Cause I don't think we're in Kansas, Maevester."

Carmen shook her head. "Everyone we know in England is pretty rude," she volunteered. That meant you, Uncles Don and Alex. "Well, except for Aunt Jenny. She's nice."

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Caritas, Saturday

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Back Room

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