Chapter Text
Some days, the world seemed to be falling to pieces, crumbling under an uncontrollable flame that covered her hair with ash and sprouted from that pesky little muscle tucked deep on the inside of her left hip…today?
Today Mara would finally unpack the last box in her new apartment. Today she would finally convince her dad to accept some kind of compensation for everything he’d done for her for the past…forever. And, most importantly, her darling boy wouldn’t fling any food onto the ground during breakfast. She was trying to implement the idea that her present was going to outweigh her past.
In hindsight she might be spending too much time going through the old magazines in the break room during her lunch hour.
“You have blueberries all over your face, my love,” she laughed, wiping down Dominic’s face with a cloth once he’d finally finished eating (demolishing) his food, “in your mouth— the food goes in your mouth.”
His only response was — for the third time since waking up a half hour ago — dragging his toy fire truck along the edge of his placemat, and mimicking the siren a note (or three) too high. The moment he was free from his mother’s grasp he was out of his seat, fire truck still in hand, and running off to the bathroom to get the day started. “Mama!” He shouted, running back into the dining room with his toothbrush held tight in his fist.
Mara met him halfway, steering him back into the bathroom to get through the more chaotic part of their morning.
— + —
“Fire-truck! Fire-truck! Fire-truck!”
“Hey— come back here little man, let’s look at these shoes of yours.” Dominic, about to jet across the playground to get to the entrance where his classmates and their parents were pouring in, returned back to his mother’s side, looking down at his shoes which had miraculously untied themselves on the drive to kindergarten.
She prompted him to join in as she tied his shoes, her bag limp as an old daisy on the sidewalk beside her, and they said the shoe-laces rhyme together before she took his hand and they finally entered the building.
Crouching by his side, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before they entered the classroom, reminding him to put his backpack in his cubbyhole before joining his friends on the mat. Mara joined the parents, all clustered around the back half of the class, taking a seat beside Bea who looked like a real angel as she extended a cup of coffee in her direction, “mmm, good morning to you too,” she grinned, quickly taking a sip as she sat in the too-low chair, offering the woman a small side-hug.
Bea’s grin turned sly, “how many coffees will it take before I can get a container of those cookies you brought over last week…you know…asking for a friend.”
“Only this one,” Mara smiled back, feeling her shoulders relax as the brew unfurled her muscles with the heat. “Is Leo looking forward to the firetrucks as much as Dom is?”
Bea snorted a laugh, “I could hardly get him dressed this morning, his shoes aren’t even matching since we found them on the car floor.” Then, her eyes twinkling, she leaned a little closer, the smell of strawberries radiating from her radically (unnaturally) auburn hair, “are you looking forward to the firetrucks as much as I am?”
A warmth suddenly took hold of her ears as Mara took a long sip of her coffee, “perhaps.”
“I hope they do a calendar shoot— I’ve been hoping for one for years,” Bea sighed, earning a laugh, “I’d hang it up in the ensuite.”
“You’re terrible— how much did you bribe Vince to let you be the one to bring Leo in today?”
Bea, ever the innocent sweetheart, stuck her tongue in her cheek and offered Mara a raunchy waggle of her brows. Mara nearly snorted her coffee out her nose with her laughter.
Unfortunately, they had to compose themselves when roll-call began a moment later, frenetic children all eagerly shouting atop one another to get the boring stuff out of the way — drawing a few laughs from their parents at their energy levels this morning. Though they were thankfully put out of their misery within two minutes of the last name being called, when a loud honk came from outside. The kids were all wrangled into order, accompanied outside by their parents to witness the firetruck and meet the real life firemen in all their glory for the annual Super-Safe-Summer fire-safety chat organised by the local school district.
“Woo-boy, thank you Vince,” Bea muttered as she and Mara both stared (rather slack-jawed) at the unfolding display of tan, brawny arms and thick, broad shoulders that begged for larger t-shirt sizes.
Despite all their earlier unrest, as the firemen all gathered in front of the near-glittering firetruck, the kids were all staring wide-eyed and silent up at the behemoth(s) in front of them as the small crowd received an introductory spiel from the crew.
The man speaking first introduced himself as John (and formally as the station 141’s Captain John Price). Then came his second-in-command, a quieter-yet-gruffer man who merely introduced himself as Simon.
It took Mara a moment to focus over Bea’s elbow suddenly digging into her side, but she was quick to register the thick Scottish accent that accompanied the name of the third man, Johnny MacTavish — who’s unfamiliar lilt earned a few giggles from the kids which he took on with a good natured grin.
Then, last but not least, came a polite, yet equally charming greeting from a slightly younger man who introduced himself as Kyle. He looked like he was closer to Bea and Mara’s ages compared to the other three men, perhaps in his late twenties or deceptively older— Mara had never claimed to be good at guessing ages.
Before long, there was a crowd of kids gathered around Bella, a still-small German shepherd puppy whom Simon brandished from the front passenger seat (utterly destroying whatever dark and brooding image he previously had going), another group of kids were taking turns with the water hose, strictly instructed not to aim at other kids by Kyle, and Captain Price was busy talking with parents and Mrs O’Connell, handing out little flyers and activity books for the kids to go through at home.
Dominic was happily dragging Mara along in the tour of the firetruck, which was lead by none other than the Scotsman. Bea had long since fallen victim to Bella’s cuteness and was loosing the battle against getting a dog when she saw how happy Leo looked petting the wee puppy’s head. Mara on the other hand was struggling to pay attention to the purpose of the tour, distracted by the cut of the Scotsman’s hair.
A Mohawk…like, an actual Mohawk. It wasn’t long or super spiked or anything but it was certainly a choice.
Not that he didn’t pull it off…in his own strangely rugged way.
It only occurred to Mara that she’d been staring when Johnny flashed her a grin and she tore her eyes away from his, her attention promptly stolen by Dominic who was furiously tugging her away from the firetruck and towards the water hose— a little too quick for her liking. His hand slipped from hers as he raced down the sidewalk to join the cluster around Kyle. There weren’t really any cars around, but still, her heart lurched in her chest as she watched her boy race on ahead without her— making her take one step too hasty that shocked that tiny little muscle by her hip.
She gasped at the sudden pain flaring from her inner hip like a fresh burn, her knee staggering as she pressed her hand to the side of her lower abdomen. “Hey, easy there, easy. You alright?” Came a terribly gruff voice, an arm preventing her fall by wrapping around her waist and pulling her back upright. He quickly removed his arm and just held her up with a gentle grip around her bicep, “trippin’ over your own feet, love?”
Mara merely huffed an embarrassed laugh as she looked up at her surprise saviour, Simon, though it was particularly lacklustre as she dug some more pressure into soft muscle beside her hip bone, craving some kind of relief. “Yes, sorry— I’m alright, thank you,” she murmured, fixing a thin smile on her face, her eyes quickly looking past him to check that Dominic was safe (and he was, completely unaware of her potential blunder as he watched, enthralled, as Kyle gave every kid a turn with the hose), “it’s the shoes, they hate me,” she said with another small laugh, gesturing to the apparent offenders with a dismissive wave of her hand.
The shoes were definitely not the problem— her uniform in general; a long charcoal grey pencil skirt, black button up, semi-opaque black tights, the shiny black heels, (and her blazer and name badge which waited to be put on, laying on the front passenger seat of her car), had never been the problem. Simon, rightfully, didn’t seem convinced; his heavy stare snagging on the fingers which dug into the fleshy part of her hip with a raised brow.
She flushed, catching the subtle shift in his expression, “I’m fine, really. Go get back to the puppy. Thank you for catching me,” she smiled, as polite as humanly possible, before gently extricating her arm from his grip. He didn’t say another word as she inched away from him — slowly at first — before turning her back to return to Dominic’s side, needing to say goodbye before she headed further into the city to start her shift at the Sunset Hotel as one of the receptionists.
Though, when she finally got to the small crowd, it was Dominic who was having the time of his life turning the water hose on the unsuspecting empty road, and suddenly there were new photos and videos of her giggling boy in her camera roll before the next person in line got their turn. “Did you see?!” He shouted excitedly when he turned to find his mother in arm’s reach, quickly rushing over to her, pointing back to the hose.
“Yes sweetheart, it looked like so much fun!” She smiled warmly, crouching down by his side (which was a good angle to relieve some of the strain burning down her side) to smooth his Spider-Man t-shirt over his little tummy. “I bet you’ll have lots of fun stories to tell Nonno when he comes to pick you up this afternoon, yeah? I took some photos and videos too.”
“Nonno?!” His smile doubled in size at the mention of his grandpa.
“Mhmm, he’s going to come get you after school so you get to spend some time together again! Alright little man, are you gonna be good for Mrs O’Connell and the nice firemen while I’m at work?” She asked, taking his soft face in her hands as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, earning a squirming giggle in response as she wiped off the faint lipstick smudge.
“Yes!” He cheered, the golden brown skin of his cheeks turned rosy from all the excitement of the day.
“And for your Nonno?”
“Yes!” He insisted again, happily giving in to his mother’s hug as she pulled him in, wrapping his arms around her neck.
“Okay, I’ve got to go now, I love you very extra much mister,” she hummed, kissing his cheek one last time before reluctantly forcing herself to stand. Her heart softened as he gave her leg an extra hug. She reached down to ruffle his dark curls, and in the next moment he was rejoining the group, as if she had already left.
She was finding that leaving for work these days was harder on her than it was on him. At least it meant that he was safe and happy to part from her. (That’s what she had to tell herself the first week he didn’t cry after drop off. Now that was a blow to the heart.)
She waved her goodbye to Bea as she made her exit, catching Mrs O’Connell too in the process who gave her her signature cheery warm smile before she clambered into her car.
One moment she was taking a deep, calming breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, and the next she was rifling through her handbag for an emergency gel heat pack to sandwich between her top and her skirt’s waistband during the drive to work. The deep, calming breath only working when she finally found it and pressed it against her side, groaning in relief as her head fell back against the headrest.
— + —
All things considered, her shift could’ve gone a lot worse. The ache finally ebbed after lunch, and— for a Friday before the summer holidays — there were shockingly few complaints from clientele she had to sort through during the day. She worked with Blonde Stephanie again (there was blonde hair Stephanie, and there was also mousy-brown hair Stephanie), and finally the woman’s no-nonsense exterior cracked when she noticed the slight downward pull on Mara’s mouth when she came in for work. Until that moment, Mara hadn’t realised how much she had been enjoying her new job— apparently Blonde Stephanie had gotten used to her entering the building with a smile already warming her features.
The drive from the hotel to her dad’s was definitely longer than it was to the kindergarten or her own apartment, but at least it took her out into the quiet, pretty suburbs. She liked looking at the lawns— and the sunrooms. She has a thing for sunrooms.
It was definitely a positive turn to her otherwise so-so day, to get the warm welcome home from her dad: a tight hug and ticklish-bearded kiss to the cheek followed, routinely, by him asking, “how was work sweetheart?”
“Good, good. Pretty steady,” she hummed, dangerously close to being on autopilot as she stepped out of her heels and her feet sunk into the soft carpet. “How’s Dom been? I hope he wasn’t too hyper.”
Her dad snorted a laugh, “let’s just say I’ve never heard the boy talk so much in his life. Tuckered himself out now though,” he said, nodding his head toward the living room as they rounded the corner from the hallway.
“Oh my god—” again, more photos flooded her camera roll as she found her son sprawled across the couch, softly snoring, stickers on the back of both his hands, absolutely wiped. Even his apple juice stood half-drank on the coffee table.
“You staying for dinner?” He asked over the sound of the boiling jug once she finally left her son in peace to find her dad in the kitchen.
She wrinkled her nose, “depends. What’s on the menu?”
“Spaghetti. Want some coffee?”
“You know me too well.”
— + —
By the time Mara had said her farewells and was making her way back home later that evening, tugging Dominic steadily behind her into the elevator to the third floor of their complex, both of their eyelids were drooping. It looked like they would both be enjoying a nice Saturday sleep-in tomorrow morning.
Unfortunately, it seemed her neighbours had other plans for the end of her night.
Loud laughter and music threatened to spill out into the hallway between the two apartments — to the right of the elevator was her home, to the left, her three-weeks-and-yet-to-be-met neighbour. She fought the urge to groan, instead bringing Dominic inside to get him ready for bed before he fell asleep standing in his shoes.
For once, he went to bed with little protest, already out before she even turned off the big light. She left the little night-light on at the wall near his bed, and cracked open the door before she quietly went about her own night routine.
Too tired to even get back into her book from last night, she just clumsily stumbled through her skincare routine and shed her uniform, tugged on her pyjamas — which was a matching grey camisole and lounge pants tonight; the pants are usually shed too halfway through the night (especially as they were now going into summer). She made herself a her usual cup of lemon and ginger tea with honey, and set up on her bed with her laptop on her stomach, ready to watch a few episodes of her longtime favourite sitcom, The Nanny.
But even that couldn’t hold her attention for too long, not with the low hum of music seeping under the front door and stifling the dialogue of her show. She groaned, turning off the laptop altogether and attempting to just fall asleep.
To no avail.
She thought she’d at least hit thirty before she started complaining about her neighbours partying on a Friday night. Alas, she was only twenty-four and climbing out of bed, snatching up her navy blue robe from where she’d tossed it over her bedroom door, sliding her feet into her very-very-old uggs and making sure the front door was closed behind her as she marched down the hallway. Just pissed off enough to not care that she was in her pyjamas to finally meet her new neighbour and/or his friends.
According to her landlord, her neighbour was a guy. “He lives alone but he’s very nice and friendly, if you can catch him he’s great to talk to!” Were her words to be exact.
Apparently nice and friendly did not apply after ten thirty at night.
Jesus, since when had she given herself a bedtime.
She rapped her knuckles against the door, sighing, fighting the urge to dig her fingers into her hip muscle— it wasn’t even sore.
She knocked again, this time a little louder and the music dimmed a little, some laughter sounding behind the door before a little bit of clutter and shuffling. Then the door was flung open and Mara was frowning for new reasons. “You’re my neighbour?”
“Aye— you know, I don’t believe I caught yer name this morning,” Johnny MacTavish grinned, not missing a beat as he crossed those stupidly large arms of his and leaned against his doorframe.
Mara bristled, dragging her eyes off the formidable bulge of his biceps, “could you please keep the music down?”
“Sure bonnie,” he said, his grin widening.
“Nope, my name’s Mara— not bonnie.”
He seemed to repress a laugh, his eyes lighting with mirth, insisting, “ach— but Mara is bonnie.”
She frowned, “who is bonnie?!”
“Yer bonnie!”
“Oh for— could you please just keep the music down Mr MacTavish?” She gritted out.
Those damning blue eyes of his twinkled, catching the light of his apartment in their peripheral, “of course Mrs Mara.”
“Just—” she forced a calming breath, her hands on her hips— the left digging in slightly, “just Mara.”
“Mhmm,” he hummed and the low pitch of it sent a dangerously warm feeling bursting right through her stomach to the surface of her skin, her ears flushing, “I’ll keep the music down Mara.”
“Thank you,” she remembered to say after a moment of just staring at him. Then, one by one, sense returned to her limbs and she was marching right back down the hallway, not sparing him a backwards glance as she closed her door once more behind her. “You have got to be fucking kidding,” she muttered to herself as she pressed her head back against the door, sighing, then eventually — finally — trudging off to bed.
Well, she didn’t unpack the last box in her apartment. And she didn’t even remember to try talking to her dad. But Dominic didn’t fling food anywhere (as far as she’s aware) so she’ll take the small victory.