Arms Hotel, Saturday Morning

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Okay, so for all the complaining about having to get up early - especially after a night chock-full of pollen - this was Kathy's favorite weekend of the year. Surrounded by kids who called her mom, arguing over breakfast, listening to them babble on about their likes and interests and hopes, singing them to sleep at night. Even with as a late an evening as they'd had, she was still up, bright and early, humming around the public room of the suite, readying it for tiny visitors.

A hotel room meant that she had to rely on room service for breakfast, but she made due, making sure to order plenty of fruit (heavy on the strawberries), and juice, and more bacon and sausage than any one room really ought to have.

Now to wait for folks to start showing up!

[Open for all tiny children and their parents, whether related or not!]

Comments

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Very impressive Dante. Vertical was an improvement.

"New one!" Kathy called back. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked, letting the girl inside. "Buffet spread's on the table, at least three kinds of fruit or one vegetable or you get nagged all day."

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"I'm Evie," Evie said, pushing past her mom to go find the buffet table, which was extremely important. "Is there meat? Oh, hi, dad." She waved absently at Dante as she zeroed in on the food.

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"Hi... kid," Dante said, nonplussed.

He cast the blankets aside. (At least he'd worn a rare pair of boxers to bed. ... Swim trunks. They were swim trunks.)

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"Evie," Kathy supplied. "Her name is Evie. And you're...dad?"

She didn't want to admit how good it felt to hear one of her kids use that word. After two years of having them all refer to Anders and Dante by their names, she was half-afraid that it was some kind of Sign about how welcome they were in their future lives.

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"It's actually Evelyn, but that makes me sound like an old person," Evie said, scrounging up her face.

... it did not stop her from grabbing a plate and piling things on. "Yes, you're mom, he's bio-dad, and then there's dad junior."

Someone was gearing up for puberty.

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"At least I'm not junior," Dante offered, grinning, as he found his shirt and yanked it on. "Let us know if you need something more, kid. Might even convince somebody to make us burgers."

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"Dante!" Kathy said, exasperated. "It's not even ten o'clock in the morning! Mooby's hasn't even started serving sandwiches yet. And there are eggs! And three-quarters of a pig's worth of pork out here!"

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"She might still be hungry," Dante pointed out.

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"It's true," Evie said, scooping up piles of pork for her plate. "I might."

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"She's definitely yours," Kathy snorted. "Eat first and then let me know if you're still hungry."

Because like Kathy, Softest of Soft Touches, was gonna turn down a hungry kid.

Sigh.

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"Thanks, mom," Evie said absently. She sank down in a chair with her plate and started scarfing down the food.

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Dante sat down in the armchair opposite her, stretching his legs out. "That," he said, "Is definitely a kid of mine, you're right."

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"Pretty, sassy, and a black hole for bacon?" Kathy asked. "Yeah, that tracks."

...And none of those traits could ever be applied to her, nope.

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"That's dehumanizin'," Evie muttered, through a mouthful of bacon.

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"Kinda yours too," Dante said, laughing.

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"Oh god," Kathy said, perching on the arm of Dante's chair so she didn't crowd Evie. "Oh god I am not prepared for this."

She peered at Evie. "Just how old are you?"

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"Eleven but I got to skip a class so really I'm twelve and a half," Evie said primly.

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"Makes sense," Dante allowed. "You want something to drink to go along with that?"

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"It does not," Kathy said. "You're eleven, no matter what grade you're in."

Was she beaming at her daughter being smart enough to skip a grade? Hell yes she was. "...I bet we're really proud of you, though."

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"I am just that good," Evie agreed, chewing some more. The smug... well, the smug probably came from both sides. "I wanted to see what tiny you and tiny dads were like since I'm alllmost old now."

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Dante opened his mouth to say something agreeable, and-- "Hey!" A beat. "You're not getting soda now."

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Kathy would go to her grave declaring the smug was entirely patrilineal. She'd be lying, yeah, but she'd try for it.

"Your daughter," Kathy reminded him with a smirk. A smug, smug little smirk. "But he's right. No soda, it's too early. Have some juice."

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"Ugh, whatever, mom," Evie muttered, getting up to stalk to the juice in a huff.

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"Don't you fuckin' italicize your mom's name like that," Dante called after her.

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Kathy beamed at Dante, leaning down to giving him the kind of kiss that had probably led to Evie anyway.

"Thank you," she said, softly.