Work Text:
It’s pouring outside.
A young, dark haired girl sits at her window and stares out as the blue world rumbles. The sun is snuffed out by heaving, weeping grey clouds. It’s December, and this young lady is a bit disappointed in her local weather. It’s winter, it’s cold, by that logic there should be snow. But alas, not a speck of twinkling white drops from the bloated blackening clouds.
A little depressed by the doom and gloom of the weather, the young girl sighs and sags against the cool window pane. She presses her cheek to the dew speckled window and lazily traces the raindrops trailing down the glass with her index finger, as if she were the protagonist of a teen romance.
The young girl imagines her future. She plans to be a star, much like her mother, and be famous as most young girls do. She imagines that in her future she will meet a nice boy and settle down with him. One day, she would be a wife and a mother. The best mother, the kind of mother she believes her mother would have been.
As she lets her mind meander, she begins to wonder where her brother is. What could he possibly be up to, especially in this weather? Most of his daily activities involve being outside in his tree house. He better not be in there right now, that thing’s not built for rainy days, what with it’s open window and unsealed wooden boards.
The girl straightens from her slouch and onto her knees. She presses the tip of her nose to the glass and squints at the window of the tree house. A warm glow emanates from the open window, and a shadow of her brothers dorky figure flits to and fro, probably working on some conspiracy.
Of course he’s out in the cold! The girl groans in exasperation, dramatically falling back into the pillowed nook of her window seat thing. Stupid Jude, even if he’s stupid he’s still smart enough to know that cold gives you colds! If he catches one he better not pass it onto her! He’s probably just making up some crazy theory about how some fish alien is taking over the world with a baking company!
Ugh, he’s gonna get a cold out there. It’s not her problem, he’s doing it to himself.
The girl stares at the ceiling resolutely. A moment and a half passes and she lets out a dismayed groan. She pushes herself up from her cozy nest of blankets and swings her legs off the side, placing her sock covered feet onto the chilled hardwood. With a heave, she hefts her lax body off of the window bench.
As she lumbers her stiff body across her room, she stretches her arms above her head and loosens her bones and muscles with a crack.
She opens her door to a cluttered hallway. Toys and her father’s trophies litter the corridor. The trophies themselves graffitied with her and her brothers mischief. She stands before the sculpture she and Jude had dressed and splattered with paint guns, and regards the havoc they’d wrought with fondness.
But a swirl of resentment in her stomach sours the happy memories as she remembers how no one stopped them from destroying the house. No parental figure stepping in to keep them clean and in line. Roxy was too drunk. And her father was just. Absent.
She stares at the stoic face of the curly haired sculpture numbly. Remembering the fact that her father abandoned her and her kid brother can put a damper on anything. She feels a small sting in her eyes and bitterly continues down the stairwell, ignoring the rest of the decor, Jude’s room, her toys, and the pictures on the wall displaying her family and their past.
She continues past the piano in the living room she was never taught to play and past all the animals her dear ol’ dad slaughtered for funsies and to the dirty kitchen no one cleans-
“Oh hey Joey!!”
Joey startles as Roxy appears from behind her. Where did she come from??
“Aw shi-,” Roxy quickly catches herself in an effort to be responsible. “SHOOT, did I spook ya?”
“Haha, a little bit!” Joey tries to laugh off her surprise. “Did I just walk past you?”
“Yeah! You didn’t see me cause I guess your shoes are just that interesting eh?”
“Yeah! I guess, haha.”
Roxy gives her a bright smile, a dimple forming on one cheek. Her eyes, pink and clearer than the grey skies, crinkle up in cheer. She strides up to the kitchen counter and starts to clear up take out boxes and plates.
“So Jojo, what brings you to my kitchen?” She asks jovially.
“Oh I was just about to drag Jude from his tree house-”
Roxy whips around, shock on her face and garbage in her fists.
“WHAAA!? He’s out there right now??? In this shitty weather???” She forgoes sounding responsible this time because her boy is out in the rain.
“Um, yeah!” Joey squeaks, a little speechless by Roxy’s quick switch of disposition. “I’m just about to go get him-”
“NO!” Roxy bursts out waving her trash hands around like a mad woman. “No no no, let me! You stay here where it’s WARM! Mama Rox can take care of her boy, just gimme a sec!”
She darts past Joey to the little flippy trash can whatcha ma call it nestled snugly in the elegant corner between counter and wall. The little can is overflowing with rubbish, but Roxy finds a way, expertly balancing the crushed take out boxes on top of the trash tower.
She stands back up a moment regarding whether her work will topple over or not. When she’s sure it’s secure, she puts her hands on her hips, nods her head, and whips an umbrella out from her sylladex. It’s colored like a peppermint candy swirl with a cutesy bow to top it.
Roxy wields it like one would the sword in the stone. As if charging into a battle, she kicks open the screen door and rushes out into the rain, her umbrella popping open just as she’s halfway across the yard and probably already soaked.
Joey stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, admittedly very amused by her babysitter’s antics. She peers out the window to see Roxy shouting at the treehouse, with Jude’s dark haired head out the window shouting back. Roxy points at the ground, most likely demanding that Jude come down this instant, like a mom. Jude petulantly and pettily crosses his arms, pouting and turning up his nose from the window. Roxy then throws her umbrella dramatically into the mud. She pushes up her sleeves and advances onto the tree ladder.
Jude seems to realize his mistake, turning away from the window and facing the ladder where Roxy is coming. He runs from the window and Joey sees Roxy’s profile cross the window after Jude. They seem to go in circles, in a cartooney display.
In her safety from all of these tooney shenanigans, Joey giggles into her hands.
Eventually, Roxy catches Jude and carries him across the yard under her arm like a football. She comes up to the kitchen’s backdoor and Joey opens the door for her and Jude as they barrel in, muddy and soaking wet. Roxy sets a soggy Jude down and he snivels and shivers.
“Ok buddy, you go take a bath and warm ya self up, I’mma make some hot chocolate!” Roxy directs him. Teeth chattering and unwilling to unwrap his arms from himself, Jude gives her a small thumbs up before scampering off to the bathroom.
“You’re making hot chocolate?” Joey asks, crossing her arms on the little spot Roxy had cleared earlier and laying her chin on her folded arms. Roxy beams at her.
“Hell yeah! It’s like, freezing out! Even if it ain’t cold enough for snow, don’t mean my toes aren’t any less than ice cubes!”
It must be too cold for martinis then, Joey doesn’t say, because it’d be rude.
“Can you make me one too?” She asks instead.
“Hell yeah I can!”
Joey takes a seat on one of the stools by the table and watches as Roxy bustles around the kitchen. She gathers up three mugs and grabs milk and hot chocolate mix. Roxy gives each of the cups a little rinse before fixing up the three hot cocoas. Once she has the beverage steaming in their porcelain vessels, she grabs the whip cream from the fridge and sprays imperfect dollops on the drinks.
Roxy turns to Joey with tiny candy canes in her hands. She grins cheekily and places them into the cocoas.
“One cup o’ cocoa for the lady of the house!” She calls and places the mug in front of Joey.
Joey picks up the steaming cup and takes a small sip, burning her tongue and jerking away. She sticks her tongue out in pain. Roxy winces sympathetically.
“Careful, it’s really hot.”
Could’ve used the warning a few seconds earlier.
Jude eventually comes barreling down the stairs, redressed and dried. He nearly slips past the kitchen on the shining tiles with his sock clad feet, but manages to stop himself just before sliding out of the room. Roxy greets him enthusiastically and hands him his cup of cocoa.
Jude sits on the stool next to Joey and has the foresight to blow on the steaming beverage before daring a sip. Much to Joey’s chagrin. She wishes he would’ve burned his tongue like she did.
Roxy leans against the counter and slurps at her cocoa languidly, somehow not scorching her tongue. After a loud and satisfying swig, she asks about Jude’s conspiracies and he quickly jumps into a long and too thought out explanation of his findings, forgetting his cooling hot cocoa in his hands as he animatedly explains.
Joey tunes out his insane rambles and stares out the window behind Roxy. The sky is more tumultuous then she last saw and it rumbles with the promise of thunder. But inside, safe from the storm, Joey simply drinks her hot cocoa and closes her eyes.