2007-06-10: Return Of The Prodigal Twins

Starring:

Desiree_icon.gif Portia_icon.gif Parker_icon.gif

Summary: Desiree's kids finally show up at the Gomez residence.

Date It Happened: June 10th, 2007

Return of the Prodigal Twins


Gomez Apartment, Queens, New York

The Gomez apartment is draped in the kind of silence that exists between two explosions. The raging hurricane that slammed into the residence unexpectedly, known as Lance Maddox, was seen to the door a couple of hours ago. Ramon and Elena aren't in sight either, and Manny is God knows where - not here. That leaves Desiree. The dark-haired Southerner is alone in the small, lived-in apartment, perched at the end of the couch, her back to the arm of it, her knees drawn up with her bare feet on the cushions. There's a book on her knees, but it's not even open, just balancing there precariously while Dezi eyes the phone every so often or flicks a button disinterestedly on the TV remote. EXCITING.

Headed towards the door to the Gomez apartment, Portia keeps her voice low. She doesn't want the sound to carry as she heads towards the door, peering back at Parker. "Do I have to be in front? Mom's not gonna like it so much when she finds out it was my idea…"

Parker smiles at Portia. "It's okay. I'll take point for ya." he steps up to the apartment door and looks back at his sister before knocking. "Just remember…ya'll owe me big time for this…" And with a massive grin, Parker knock on the door.

The gardening show that found its way onto the TV screen promptly disappears with a flash and crackle of static as soon as Desiree hears the knock on the door. "I'll g—" Oh wait! There's no one here. Smooth. The woman leaps up off of the couch, dropping the remote at random, as well as her book; it tumbles to the floor with a thud, but she doesn't pay attention, running to the door. The quick glance into the peephole makes her unlock and throw it open all the faster. In a blue dress and white cardigan, with sundry gold bangles and other assorted jewellery, her mess of hair pulled back, Desiree looks pretty much the same as she always has. The kids, on the other hand…

"I don't know whether to smack you or kiss you!" But despite the obvious stress in her widened eyes, she can't help the giant, glowing smile from spreading across her face. She all but tries to haul them both inside, to hustle them in so she can close the door. "Get in here, you kids are— y'all are crazy! Well c'mon! Give your mama a hug!"

Well, that was an easier start than Portia expected. She grins, moving in after Parker to hug her mother, secretly a little more than glad to be seeing her mother again. "Sorry for worrying ya, Mama."

Parker hugs both his siter and mother in one swoop. "Yeah, mama. We just thought it'd be easier for us to stop by an' see you on th' way back instead of jus' making another trip up here from Laurel."

Desiree hugs the both of them snugly - more than snugly, actually. She may cut off their air supply any second now. However, she does, eventually, let them go. She steps back with one hand on Portia's shoulder and one on Parker's. "Oh, is that whatcha thought." Smile fading into a reluctantly sterner line, she touches Portia's long hair and slants her increasingly annoyed gaze over to Parker. "How'd you get in your heads to fly out to New York all by yourselfs, huh? Issa dangerous city! You know the kinda trouble you coulda got yourselves in not callin' anyone to come pick you up?"

Glancing back at her mother, Portia glances to Parker, looking sheepish. She could try and lie, but she doesn't want to, at this point. Not to her mother. Her father is another story. "It was my idea, Mama. I flew out here, Parker just followed me cause he was worried." She looks between her brother and her mother. She continues after a moment. "I came out here cause I wanted to make it big and impress you, Mama."

Parker sighs a bit and steps back to let mama deal with Portia. "Portia…I told you ya' didn't have to own up. An' ya know we're all gonna love ya and be proud of ya'll no matter what."

Desiree takes this news in with one bold eyebrow lifting. "Impress me? Oh, sweetheart." She runs a hand through Portia's hair and then just sort of pats her on the head, frowning worriedly. "I'm always gon’ be impressed by you. Your brother's got some wise words, even raw textthough" Her sweet drawl turns sharp. "he's also gonna be really goddamn grounded."

"I know, Mama. I just wanted to really succeed at something and I've been practicing a lot and stuff while I was in Paris, and New York's the sort of place where you can really get things with music… so I thought I'd just come here instead of going to Laurel and I could be all successful and make you proud." Portia glances over at her brother, and shakes her head. "I know, but I want to. Didn't think it all the way through anyways and it's better to just be honest 'bout it." She looks back to Desiree. "It's really not his fault, though, Mama. I didn't even tell him where I was going. If he didn't chase me down and yell at me I probably would have waited a little longer 'fore showing up here.."

Parker looks aghast at his mother. "Huh? What th' Hell did I do wrong? I'm the one that went after her to talk some sense inta her!" He nods at Portia's assessment. "What she said! An' anyways, mama, Tia's got a point. She's real good now. She probably could get a break here in New York." He looks back at his sister. "Didn't some woman give ya'll her card and tell ya to send her a demo tape when I caught up with ya?"

Desiree holds up a hand to Parker and delegates. Which means… she ignores him for a moment. "Mmmjusasecond." One thing at a time! "I can't wait to hear your new music," she tells Portia with a sincere smile, encouraging. "If breakin' into the bigtime's somethin' you wanna do, I'll back you up all the way, darlin', but it's gonna be a little more complicated than jus' showin' up in New York. We gotta figure things out with your dad, I mean if you wanna stay, and…" She lowers her raised hand wags a finger at Parker, then at Portia. "We can do that. 'Cause he's here. In New York. Probably havin' a stroke at the hotel as we speak. When y'all didn't show up he threw a fit! I don't blame him! He busted in here crazier than a mad bull. Lost his mind," she mutters the last part.

"Shit! Dad's here?" Portia blurts out before covering her mouth. "Sorry, Mama. Didn't mean to swear." She glances back to Parker, looking a lot more uncomfortable with the idea of her father being in New York. "I don't wanna talk to Dad! He doesn't understand me. I don't think he even understands any women."
Parker looks a bit upset at the idea of daddy being here. "It's okay, Portia. I'll talk with daddy and get him ta see your side. We got ya out here, we're gonna make the most of it, even if it's only for th' summer." He looks looks at his mamma and pulls out his cell phone. "Hey, mamma? Can I call the kids back in Paris an' let them know that Portia's okay? They were pretty worried when she took off like se did."

Desiree doesn't flinch when her young teenage daughter swears, only narrows her eyes ever-so-slightly. "Yeah well, your daddy don't understand a lot of things, like for example, how not havin' common decency is gonna get his eyes knocked outta his head." She nods to Parker. "Oh yeah, yeah, go on ahead and call your lil' friends," she waves him off, smiling. "You're gonna find a way to cover the long distance bill though!" The apartment is dim, lit by only the lamp Desiree was theoretically reading by, but she flicks on the switch to illuminate the small kitchen and heads toward the breakfast bar. "Y'all want anythin' to eat? Anyway, I got… some things need takin' care of here in the Big Apple and I don't know how long it's gonna take, so— I mean, we'll find a way to house y'all up. There ain't… much room here."

"Better than the park." Portia murmurs, moving to follow Desiree towards the kitchen. "Just give me a spot on the floor or something. I don't mind. Rooms here are way bigger than Paris anyways." She looks to the counter for a moment, staring at it as she purses her lips. "Mama, do you want us to just go back to Mississippi with Dad?"

Desiree leans into breakfast bar opposite Portia, watching the girl carefully. Her hazel eyes flare with something akin to horror when Portia mumbles 'better than the park' - she heard that! Before she has time to question, though, she's derailed. Mental note: find out about your daughter possibly acting like a homeless person later. "Honestly … I don't want you goin' so many miles away from me no more. I don't care if it's New York or Mississipi or Pluto, long as I can see you all the time. But I gotta stay here. At least for a little bit. Can't even say how much I missed y'all." She leans over the counter on her elbows, reaching a hand out to her daughter. "If you don't wanna go back home with your daddy, well, you don't got to."

Portia watches her mother, reaching to take her hand as she smiles, just a little. "Good. Cause I don't wanna go away again." She glances at the counter again. "Drive me nuts being in Mississippi with Dad. I don't think he'd take me seriously.. not about what I wanna do. And if you wanna stay here and you like being here then I want you to say here, Mama. I want you to be happy, okay?" She looks back over.

"Well, then. I want you to be happy too, sugar. We can pay your daddy a visit. While he's still lickin' his wounds." Desiree squeezes the hand and smirks just a little before a warmer smile settles in. "Lookityou," she bobs her head, looking the girl up and down. "You've grown! A… lot. Pictures don't show jus' how much! Did you get them clothes in Paris? They're real pretty."

Portia giggles, glancing back to Desiree. "Yeah. The girls in Paris have some nice things. I know a little 'bout what's fashionable now. I put this outfit together cause I thought it'd make me look good to go talk to people 'bout my music. I made my own CD, too, off my computer. That way I can be real professional and go in an' show people I'm serious."

"You gotta tell me all about Paris sometime," Desiree says. Commands, even! Granted, she's heard stories from the kids before now, over the phone and through letters, of course, but it's just not the same. She slides her hand out of Portia's and stands up straight. "A CD? Well I wanna hear it! But I'ma go make y'all up some beds. You can use Juanita's… Manny ain't here so Parker can take his." Pause. "You're gonna meet the people I'm stayin' with. They're a real nice family." She hesitates for a moment, on that note, looking faintly concerned, but it's passing. "I think you'll like 'Lena. She dances."

"It was great. I promise to tell you whatever you want to know." Portia states, though she draws the bottom of her lip between her teeth after a moment. Subtle, but there. There's one thing she doesn't want to tell her mother about. Something she's not sure how to explain. "I'm sure I'll like her. Maybe she can show me how to dance. If I make it big I'll need some moves." She looks back over, rubbing her neck. "Why're you staying with a family, Mama?"

Desiree, about to drift from the kitchen to head toward the bedrooms, stops before she gets more than a step away. She smiles over her shoulder at Portia and similarly bites her lower lip, hesitating for a few seconds. "Well, first I didn't… intend to stay in New York very long, y'know? But then. Things got… well. I jus'— it worked out that way. I was stayin' at this little bed and breakfast when the Gomezes, who I'd met, were kind enough to open up their home to me for awhile."

Portia nods slowly, running a finger along the edge of the counter. "Yeah? Well, it sounds like they're nice people, then. Opening their home. You must like them a lot to come stay with them." She smiles towards her mother. "It'll be nice to meet them."

"Yeah," Desiree nods decisively smiling. "I do." She tips her head in the direction of the hallway, where the bedrooms are, and where Parker is presumably on the phone. To France. Let's not think about those charges. "You wanna come help me get some sheets?"

Portia moves to follow, giving a bit of a nod. "Yeah, I'll help you, Mama." She glances around the apartment a little as she follows, speaking up again after a moment. "So what are the Gomezes like? Other than nice enough to offer you a place to stay."

Desiree goes straight for a linen closet, obviously knowing the lay of the land by heart. "They're, uh. Well. 'Lena's a sweetheart, she goes to the university. And Ramon— that's her daddy— don't be scared if he don't talk in full sentences or if he kinda glares. That's jus' how his face is. Manny's kinda a wildcard, I don't got him figured out right yet. They're all feisty in their own way." She conveniently doesn't mention how feisty, to the point of decking Lance. She hands Portia a folded set of sheets. "They're a good family." She keeps saying that.

Portia accepts the sheets, holding them as she watches her mother. She's unable to hide a grin. "I got it the first time you said they were good, Mama. I promise I'll try and like 'em all, just cause they mean something to you."

Portia actually grins even more at the idea of that. "Sounds like it'll be fun, Mama. We can talk 'bout all sorts of stuff, then. The French girls had some pretty clothes, and stuff, but they weren't much for conversation." She grins. "Lot of 'em were pretty dumb. Didn't wanna do anything but chase 'round boys. I learned how to do makeup, though. I'll have to do it for you sometime."

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