2007-08-25: Don't Spoil Your Dinner

Starring:

Sandra_icon.gif Claire_icon.gif MrMuggles_icon.gif

Summary:

A mother/daughter talk before dinner.

August 25th, 2007:

Don't Spoil Your Dinner


Bennet Household

It's a typical day in the Bennet household. Or, really, as typical as any day could be for the Bennets after having moved from Texas to New York. Their house over the past couple of months has gone under a huge transformation from being filled with boxes and a little foreboding to completely decorated, polished and dusted. Pictures of the family line the walls along with framed ribbons Mr. Muggles had won in shows proudly displayed. Spread out on the shining kitchen table is a book filled with different wallpapers. Sandra sits in one of the wooden chairs, cradling Mr. Muggles and idly flipping through them. Even if the house is all but entirely unpacked, there's still work she wants to do with it. "No no no, you don't like the blue, do you Mr. Muggles," she says in a baby voice. "It just doesn't go with your fur."

With a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, Claire makes her way through the front door. "Hey, Mom!" she calls into the air, not really ready to venture a guess as to where in the house her mother actually is. "It's just me."

Wandering towards the kitchen, the younger Bennet woman sets down her bag on one of the stools at the island, hops up onto another, and promptly seizes the package of Chips Ahoy. 'A-ha!' her smile seems to say as she opens it and extracts some of the chewy goodness. 'Victory is mine!'

"I can hear that, young lady," Sandra calls out from the kitchen. In fact, if she leaned over far enough, she could probably see Claire getting those Chips Ahoy. "No cookies, you'll spoil your dinner." Closing the book of wallpaper samples, she takes the fluffly Muggles and moves toward the doorway, an eyebrow raised in preemptive Mother Disapproval. "And what did I say about yelling in the house? We've got enough noise to deal with here without adding our screaming to it." However, it's hard for her to stay mad at her daughter. "Now, put those away before you make me hungry. You know Mr. Muggles and I can't have snacks before dinner." Moving for the fridge, she pulls out a carton of milk and two glasses. Putting one in front of Claire, she fills it up. "At least have some milk. It'll make me think you're eating something nutritious. Not that you need any help with strong bones."

There's a playful lift of her eyes at her mother's litany, but Claire is only too happy to snatch up the glass of milk. It'll help wash down the mouth full of cookie that was already bitten off before her mother told her 'no'. "Moooom," she groans through a smile. She doesn't really mind it. Good grief, it's amazing to have her mother back in her life. You really don't know what you got 'til it's gone. Two more cookies are pulled out and then pushed towards the elder Bennet with a downright mischievous smile. "You knoooow you want them."

Giving her daughter a mock warning look, Sandra takes the two cookies, then the package and slips them all right back into place. "You're right! I did! Now, drink your milk." Like a pro, she maneuvers the package into being sealed and then the whole thing back into the cupboard, all the while holding onto her tiny dog. After having Muggles all but surgically attached there for years, she's used to doing almost anything one handed. "And if you would be so kind, take the chicken out of the fridge so I can start making dinner." While she'll allow Mr. Muggles with her for most of the time, it's just not sanitary to hold a dog while sauteing, so she brings the pomeranian up to her face and gives him a slobber of kisses on his muzzle. He licks her chin happily back. "Now you be a good boy and lay on your pillow while mommy makes dinner." Carefully, she sets the dog back onto the floor and he skitters off to his doggie bed, his claws click-clacking on the floor as he goes. "So where were you off to all day?"

"Nowhere special." With a cookie half-hanging out of her mouth, Claire pushes herself out of her seat to dutifully obey the matriarch. Pulling the plastic-wrapped dead bird out, she carefully makes her way across the kitchen to drop it in the sink with little ado. "Just went to coffee shop. Wandered around a bit." Met up with Zach who just happens to know her secret. …Let's not share that part with Mom. There's a new smile that gets plastered on Claire's face at the fib by omission. Wiping the moisture from her hands on her jeans, she shrugs. "You know. Typical teenage girl stuff."

"Hmm." Pulling out pans and cutting boards and various spices, Sandra lays them all neatly out on the counter. Once Claire has the bird in the sink, the two are standing right next to each other. Instinctively, she reaches out to hold her daughters chin gently in her hand. "Wherever you go is some place special, sweetheart." Claire isn't the only one glad for Sandra to be back in her life. "I was so worried about you." With her thumb, she rubs against the girls chin, as if wiping off crumbs left behind from that forbidden cookie. "I knew we'd find you, but I was just so worried."

Claire just stands there for a moment, listening very carefully to what her mother is saying. (Cherish the moment!) She tries to act cool and collected, but before she even fully gets through her thoughts, the teenager is throwing her arms around her mother's waist and clinging tightly. Her eyes squeeze shut, savoring the amazing sense of security that comes from being right there. She may be able to heal anything, but that doesn't stop a girl from being scared. "I was, too, Mom."

To say that Sandra was expecting Claire to wrap her in a hug would be a complete lie. Claire has grown up so much in the last couple of months that sometimes she just doesn't know what to expect from her. However the moment that those arms are around her, the mother holds on tightly and pets her shorter hair. "We'll always be here for you, Claire. Whenever you need us." Whether that means for helping her pick out a dress for a date or coming to pry her out of the hands of some Company. Once again, she moves to tilt her daughter's chin up so that they can look at each other right in the eye. "You're my darling girl. And don't you forget that." There's a pause and then, Mrs. Bennet rubs Claire's cheek just a bit and gives her a reassuring smile. "Now, go wash your hands and help me cut up the vegetables. Your father'll be home any minute."

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