Schmaltzy... But I needed a break from school stuff.

/ / /

She drinks that beer steadily. And she doesn't answer Carmen's questions, even though she knows they come from a good place because Carmen is a good friend.
Carmen wraps up her caring entreaties with humor and usually that breaks through Spencer's defenses.

But not tonight.

She is already frazzled from fighting with Ashley and knowing that her parents would show up and find Spencer gone from the very meal the girl spent all day preparing.
And now, now she must snag a taxi to get to Wake Medical - on Christmas Eve, when the world comes to a stand-still and the E.R. will be stuffed full of a million other holiday mishaps, filled up with drunks and the cuts to their faces, with those who try to overdose and are dragged back to life, kids with early gifts that cause broken arms or legs.

Spencer sighs heavily at her own knowledge of hospitals, thanks to both of her parents, her mother being an OR nurse and her father working closely with at-risk youth.
She knows all about sutures and stitches, where to put pressure and signs of depression, the sterile smell of a long hallways and even longer stretches of waiting and jello for meals.

The hospital has never been her favorite place in the world.
And having to go there tonight is not how she imagined this whole affair playing out either.

In so many ways...

But Spencer must call it as she sees it.
It was stupid.
Stupid to think that her mother would get over this weird snobbery towards Ashley.
Stupid to think that Ashley could suck it up and not over-react.
Stupid to think that she could just up and leave and drink at a dirty bar, pretending that this would all blow over.
Stupid to want to have a good Christmas at all.

After the third taxi passes her by, which prompts Spencer to flip the last driver the bird, she decides to start walking.

I mean, what's seven blocks? That's not so long... right?

Of course, around the fourth block, Spencer cannot feel her toes too well.
And that's because of the snow, that cold stuff that falls from the sky and that she normally calls 'beautiful'. And it is beautiful, when it is viewed from inside and she is cuddled up on the couch and sipping on hot chocolate.
That's when snow is pretty.
Walking in it to get to the E.R., because her father has a broken nose - thanks to my girlfriend, no less - in shoes not necessarily made for such trekking... Yea, at this point, Spencer has just found another thing to get pissed about.

I'll probably need a doctor by the time I get there.

Spencer sighs, again, and keeps on trudging along.
And she makes a solemn vow, one that she'll not soon forget, as her teeth chatter and her irritation flares back up - if it ever truly went away, that is.

I will never celebrate Christmas again.

/ / /

"Spence is on her way." Glen states and that finally breaks the stare-off between his mother and his sister's girlfriend.

He watches his mother first, a flicker of relief flashing in those familiar blue eyes - the same ones that Glen sees when he looks in the mirror, when he looks at Spencer - and there is a subtle relaxation to his mother's shoulders.
Not so raised. Not so rigid.
And the same thing happens to Ashley, but it is more subtle and infinitely more complex.
There is relief, but not of the same maternal vein. More like being at a party and knowing no one and then a friend finally shows up - it is the look of someone no longer feeling alone.
Still, there is a tension in Ashley's gaze, which Glen attributes to the man down the hall and in exam room number two.

Glen studies the girl for a second longer, until Ashley frowns at him.

"What?"
"Oh, uh, nothing."

They are all silent again, the sounds of phones ringing and pages going out over intercoms and crying children and snoring and such.
And Glen had been leaning against the wall, but he decides to sit down beside Ashley.

"Did, uh, did she sound... okay?"
"She cursed. A lot."

Glen smiles and Ashley sort of grins in return.

"Too bad I missed that."
"Yea, well, who knows? She might do a repeat performance later."
"I kind of hope not to be honest."

Glen glances at his mother and finds the woman looking away, quickly, as if caught spying.
Which he guesses is just what his mother would do - anything to keep tabs on the person she considers to be Spencer's 'unfortunate choice of companion'.

His mother's words, not his.

Glen never did understand what the big deal was, why they couldn't get along or - at the very least - get over it.
They both love Spencer. They love that little toe-headed sister of his like guys love being lazy and dogs love bones and... Get the picture?
But maybe that's it, too.
Maybe neither of them are good at sharing Spencer. Which is weird and dumb.
But Glen supposes that there are stranger things that can happen in the universe.

Like what happened earlier tonight for instance.

"I told her it was an accident. She knows you wouldn't hurt our dad."
"Yea, but what I did to Paula wasn't an accident."

They both look over then, honing in on that large red stain and the sticky hints of cranberry-and-currant sauce that still lingers on the woman's neck, not wiped off well enough as they all bustled Arthur Carlin to the hospital.

"Well, to be fair, she did give you an impromptu shower in your kitchen."
"...True. I just... I don't want Spencer to be mad anymore. Especially not with me."

Ashley's voice drops as she speaks, tone a little soft and a little timid and it's not a side that any of them has seen before. Not Glen at any rate. And certainly not his mother, who he is sure is still listening in from across the way.
He reckons Spencer has seen this part of Ashley, though.
And that's all he needs to know to offer up a confident reply.

"Ashley, she loves you, right?"

The girl doesn't answer, just sort of nods her head in agreement.

"Then it'll be fine. Besides, it wasn't all bad. The food was great."

Ashley rolls her eyes, but manages a smile and leans back once more against the wall, Glen following suit.

"That was all Spencer." Ashley murmurs.
"I know." Glen responds.

And they wait for the girl to arrive, not sure when it became Spencer Carlin's job to keep them all together.

Just knowing that it is so.

/ / /

By the time she actually gets there, Spencer is not amused.

Her feet are frozen, just blocks of ice in her now-soaked shoes. And her hands, while not as cold since she managed to keep them stuffed into her jacket pockets, are still not feeling great and have that numb-tingling thing going on.
She can feel the sudden warmth of being indoors, making her face flush even more - too quick from overly chilled to moderate heat.

And the hospital is slammed with people - white coats and blue uniforms, annoyed looking faces and tired glares. And her eyes dart around, searching for a member of her family or for Ashley, finding them at the far end of the hall.

She can see Glen messing around with his phone.
She can see Ashley beside him, arms and legs crossed. And then she sees her mother coming out of a room further down, talking to a woman, both of them making hand gestures.
And Spencer doesn't look forward to jumping into this mess, wishing she could close her eyes and make the night disappear.
But that's a gift that Santa cannot conjure up - how would anyone even begin to wrap up the removal of events that have already taken place?

She takes a deep breath and starts rubbing her hands together in order to get some feeling back in them, walking and side-stepping others on her way to the drama.

Ashley happens to see her first, eyes doing that thing they always seem to do, a rare and simple shade of brown that turns lighter when it lands upon Spencer's face.
This time, though, that fades and is replaced by concern.
That's when Spencer realizes how she must look, red-faced and hair slightly wet from the still falling snow and pants legs damp near the ankles.

Her girlfriend is up like a shot and that's when Spencer's mother is made aware of her arrival.

"Spence...?" Ashley grabs those hands, gaze growing wide with the sensation of cold flesh.
"I'm fine."
"You're freezing. What the... did you walk here or something?"
"Couldn't get a cab."

Ashley is looking put out by this answer, but her hands are still working over Spencer's, smoothing over the skin with force and pulling the blood back in.

"Why didn't you call me? I would have come and got you."
"Ashley, I know you, you didn't drive here."
"Well... no, but... Glen would have let me take your dad's car."
"My mother wouldn't have let you."
"Whatever. You still should have called."

And a part of Spencer wants to say 'you should have called me', because that is their deal with one another and Ashley broke the rules and a part of Spencer is still such a child and just likes being catered to.
But the bigger part of Spencer is just too tired to give a damn.
Ashley should have called her and they should have kissed and made up by now.
Spencer should have called someone and let them drive her instead of traipsing around the city in the snow.

"Next time, I promise I will call you if I need a ride to the hospital to check on my father and any other bones of his you might break... okay?"

But Spencer says it with a smile and Ashley does that other thing she always seems to do, ducks her head in an adorable way - it says 'sorry' louder than any words ever could.

"Okay then." Ashley mumbles, now just holding Spencer's hands in her own.

You can't put off Paula Carlin for long, though. The woman is a force to be reckoned with and no one is a match for her.
Except maybe the man in exam room number two.
And even he knows when to give up and live to fight another day.

Her mother is all 'thank god you are here' and 'your father has been asking for you' and 'why didn't you come sooner?', dragging Spencer off with haste.
But the girl turns her head to Ashley, still standing there in the hallway, and she winks.

When Ashley grins in response, Spencer knows it is all good.

Well, as good as it can be on a night like this, but I'll take it.

/ / /

"Is still ah liddle sore but I feel gud."

Paula smirks, just the tiniest bit, at Spencer. The girl returns the gesture, patting her father's hand and sitting down beside him on the bed provided.

"I feel gud like I knew I wuld..." Arthur continues in a very drugged up, sing-song way.

Paula's smirk turns a bit softer then and Spencer emits a delicate ripple of laughter.

"What did they give you, Dad?"

But he just keeps humming James Brown and Paula watches as Spencer leans over, placing a soft kiss to Arthur's cheek.
The best of the both of them, that's what Spencer is to Paula - all the good and none of the bad, the face of endless opportunity.
Well, both of their children are like that, a wonderful light to look upon as the nights grow ever longer.

Paula is usually not this maudlin, usually a harder nut to crack. But it has been a long day and an even longer evening. There has been stress and fighting and she hasn't really eaten since breakfast and even with all her training as a nurse, Paula is still concerned over Arthur.
He used to make such a scene when should would fuss over him back in the days when they were first dating.
She supposes it was some bid at macho pride. Or a need to remain independent, to prove that he could manage if they were to ever part.
Of course, Paula wore him down and Arthur Carlin learned the value of chicken noodle soup. And he learned the value of the proper way to treat a wound. Not to mention that with Paula's care came Paula's kisses.

Yea, he learned to enjoy that bit as well.

"Mom?" Spencer's voice floats in and shakes her from this sudden reverie.
"Hmm?"
"Uh, can we talk for a minute or two? Not in here?"

Paula looks into her daughter's eyes, so much like her own, and catches the fleeting glimpse of solid determination in the irises. And she isn't totally sure what the talk will be about, but Paula Carlin is fairly certain that it has to do with the reason they are all here in a hospital right now, the reason she has a stained sweater, the reason Spencer was out in this weather for most of the night.

Ashley Davies.

"Are you sure, Spencer?" Paula asks just the once, knowing that whatever happens from here on out will surely change things - for the better or for the worse.
And this is not how she envisioned Christmas Eve going, not in the slightest.
Instead of good cheer, it's been bad will. Instead of familial bonding, it's been all of them fractured.

To Paula's mind, all of this could be solved if Spencer would just realize that Ashley is not 'the one'.

But in those eyes, eyes so like her own, Paula knows that this talk won't be about leaving a brunette girl.

It'll be about the long haul and it'll be about if Paula can stand that fact or not.

"Yes, I am. C'mon Mom... it won't kill you to listen for a change..." Spencer says with an easy grin, already heading out the door.
Paula walks over to Arthur, who is looking sleepy, and kisses him gently on the lips.

"I lub you.' He whispers, eyelids blinking slowly. And Paula smiles, probably the warmest smile she's got to give, practiced over the years for just one man.
Her 'one'. Her own reckless wonder and good-hearted soul. The man that no one in her family wanted her to marry.

And no, the irony is not lost on Paula. Just conveniently misplaced.

"I lub you, too."

/ / /

Her mother insisted on getting hot tea, the cup almost nuclear with the heat it was putting out. But Spencer has to admit that it feels good against her skin and even better going into her body.
Then her mother insisted on getting a cheap hat from the lobby gift store, which was still opening in an attempt to make money off the physically ailing on Christmas Eve.
And it is a bright orange mixed with flamingo pink and the most ugly thing Spencer has ever seen, but it does cover her ears and Spencer knows that most body heat leaves through the head. So, she put it on and got over it.

Her mother is just being her mother, as always, eager to take care of her children - even if they don't want it. Jumping in with advice. Sending over baked goods.
Spencer remembers all those crazy things that most people think just happens in television shows - you know, eat your vegetables and sit up straight and don't run with scissors - but that was her childhood to a tee.
When she was a kid, it all seemed too much and annoying and it killed fun as quick as you could blink. But as Spencer got older, she learned that it was just one of the ways that her mother showed her love. It could be smothering sometimes, but it was never out of anger or spite.

And now they stand here, just outside one of the many doors, Spencer clutching onto her cup of tea and her mother's breath coming out like an icy fog from her lips.

"He'll be okay, right?" Spencer starts off simple.
"Oh yes, he'll be fine. There will be discomfort and heaven help him if he has to blow his nose... but, otherwise, he'll be good as new soon enough."
"Good. That's what I like to hear."

They smile at each other and Spencer takes another sip of her tea, watching the steam rise up and disappear. And she takes a deep breath, not knowing where to start with this conversation, just knowing that it has to happen.
All the way here, between anger and being cold, Spencer tried to think of what to say and of how to put this whole rivalry to rest.
She wants her mother's approval, sure, who doesn't want that?
But she wants her girlfriend, too. She wants both and, if this is really the time for dreams to be realized and wishes to come true, then Spencer is sending a plea to up above and all points along the way.

I want the rest of this holiday to be better. I want Ashley and my mother to get over this stupid... whatever the hell it is between them. I want to wake up tomorrow, on Christmas, and enjoy it.

See, the bitterness and the cynicism, that's not Spencer.
Even when she is pissed off and wants to slap someone, those feelings eventually fade and Spencer is left being as she always is - optimistic and hopeful.
That's how she is and she doesn't want to sacrifice that aspect of herself in order to deal with other people's shit. She almost nods to herself in that moment, like a kind of confirmation of what she has always known, still that little girl who is determined to get her way.

"You know, we are so alike sometimes..." Spencer says quietly and she knows her mother is watching, waiting, actually listening. Or, at the very least, her mother is trying to hear.

"...I must have gotten that stubborn gene from you, you know? Because Dad isn't like that. He goes with the flow. You and I, though, we get locked on to something and that's it. And that can be good quality, sometimes... but it can be a bad thing, too. It was bad tonight, Mom. I shouldn't have taken off like I did."

Spencer can see her mother about to jump in and defend a situation that she wasn't even a part of, so Spencer holds up her hand to prevent the words to come. And, this time, her mother refrains with a sigh and nothing more.

Hey, progress! Maybe this won't be too hard after all.

"No, see, there is nothing you can say. I was... I was stressed out after cooking all day and with wanting things to be perfect, so I lashed out at Ashley. She was trying to help me and I know she hates this time of year, for her own reasons, but she did try and help. I just didn't want any help, which was stupid, so I took out my frustrations on her... and she did the same. And that's normal, you know? Couples do that. You and Dad do that. But I got locked on, Mom... I got locked on and took off and didn't make things right when I should have, didn't stay when I should have... Being stubborn just added more aggravation to this night, it didn't make things better at all."

Spencer takes a breath and another sip of her tea. Her mother clears her throat.

"May I speak now?" It is said with an edge of sarcasm, but not coldness, and Spencer sort of grins as she takes another sip of that tea and relishes the warmth.
"Sorry, Mom, but you cannot. And that's because I know what you'd say... I know you almost as well as I know myself. Which is a scary thought..."

It could have been a harsh comment, but it isn't. Spencer smiles a bit more and her mother actually rolls her eyes.

"Fine, continue then."
"I was going to anyway."

Now her mother is smiling fully and shaking her head, but staying silent. And Spencer looks out over the landscape of buildings, the patchwork of lights, the snow coming down around them. And she just allows the words to come out, a steady stream of her truth, hoping to paint a picture that even stubborn Paula Carlin cannot deny.

"I never told you about that first night you met Ashley. I never told you because I thought... well, I thought by this point, you'd kind of know her like I do. But the two of you are quick to judge-"
"I am not-"
"Hey, this is my time to talk, okay? So shhh."

Her mother crosses her arms and does a tiny bit of fuming.
Spencer finds it funny.

"It's true, Mom. You make snap judgments and so does she. You are both fiercely protective of those you love, to the point of driving those you protect 'round the bend... but I know it comes from a caring place. The amount of love I get from the two of you, I mean, everyone should be so lucky... you know?"

Her mother looks almost uncomfortable, whether with the praise or with the similarities to her girlfriend, Spencer is not entirely sure.

"That night, god, she was so scared to meet you all. She wanted to impress you, which I told her that you and Dad wouldn't care if she brought anything or not, but Ashley got it in her head to get you wine and she was going to get you the best she could afford. Out of her love for me, Ashley wanted to give you something special. And, yea, it kind of didn't work out... but... you didn't even give her a chance, Mom. And that's just it... you have to give people a chance, maybe more than one, maybe hundreds of chances... if they are worth it. And Ashley is worth it, she is so worth it."

Her mother does not look too convinced, but the woman is still listening, so Spencer forges ahead - not defeated yet, not ready to wave the white flag.

"All the days you don't see her, all the times that you aren't around to run into that wall she's put up when it comes to you, she is... Mom, she is everything I've ever wanted. Even when you two are at each others throats, she is still who I want to wake up to and fall asleep to."

Spencer feels a smile tugging at her lips and can feel her mother's gaze lessen in its firmness, can tell that it is getting more tender and that gives her the push to keep going, to keep trying.

"She sings to me in voice-mails because she knows it makes me laugh. And she leaves me notes all over our place, sometimes about nothing at all, just to let me know she is thinking about me. Every night she comes home, the first thing I feel is her lips on my cheek and her arms around my waist. She holds on to me like I am all that matters to her and I won't give up the girl who makes me feel this way. I won't give up someone who would give me the world if she could... and I would think... No, Mom, I know that that is the kind of person you want for me. Someone who cares for me and loves me as much as you do."

Spencer blinks a couple of times, noticing that she has tears in her eyes, wiping at them with hands that are starting to get chilled again. And even her mother's stare is glassy and more open than usual.

"You could have been the kind of parent who turned me away, who treated me like crap, when I came out... but you didn't. You got over what you were raised to believe and accepted me for who I am and you meant it. Your love for me gave me a chance, Mom. And now I want you to step up and do it again, for me. I want you to stop doing this thing with Ashley and I want you to really try this time... because I love you both and, dammit, it's almost Christmas and... and I want it be... I just want it to be nice. For all of us."

Her mother sort of tilts her head in the direction of the inside of the hospital, eyes a tad downcast and voice quiet.

"What if, uh... what if Ashley isn't willing to try?"
Spencer grins at that, with no note of doubt to her tone when she replies.
"Don't worry. She'll be getting a version of this conversation later tonight."

Her mother laughs softly and meets Spencer's gaze, the two of them smiling at one another.

"You really are a lot like me, aren't you?"
"Yep. Not sure if that is a curse or a blessing..."
"Hey, young lady-"
"But I'll go with blessing."

Paula Carlin reaches out then and Spencer steps forward, the two of them hugging and holding on tight.

"I'll try. I really will." Her mother whispers. "For you."
And Spencer nods her head, eyes shutting in relief for the first time this whole evening.

"It'll be worth it, Mom. I promise."

/ / /

"Um...Ashley, sorry about that plate. And the, uh, water incident. That was uncalled for."

Ashley sits there in the Carlin backseat, beside Spencer, and with Glen on Spencer's other side. Arthur, doped up and blissfully unaware of life, in the passenger seat as the engine idles outside of the apartment building.
And Spencer silently grabs Ashley's hand and gives it a squeeze.

Ashley isn't sure what is going on and isn't sure she should trust this situation. Paula Carlin doesn't do apologies. Paula Carlin didn't look sorry as that water went all over Ashley's head.

But Spencer, Spencer is letting her know that this is okay with that firm grasp to her hand, that sure hold in this brave new world where Paula Carlin shows remorse.
And where Ashley can do the same, if she wants.

"Oh. Well, um, that's...okay...I...guess."

Spencer nudges her shoulder and Ashley rolls her eyes like a petulant child, but she gives in.
She gives in and hopes for the best, not even caring if the woman ever likes her, but knowing that this matters to Spencer.
And Spencer matters to Ashley. Spencer is kind of her world, if she is being honest, and if Spencer needs this, well, then Ashley will do all she can to make it happen.

"And I'm sorry for throwing that cranberry stuff on you. That was uncalled for, too."

Paula sort of nods her head and murmurs a 'thank you'.

And when they all part ways for the night, Paula wishes Ashley a Merry Christmas.
And Ashley, still slightly shocked and still slightly wary, does the same.

But Spencer's smile is luminescent and it melts away Ashley's suspicions like sun to frost.
This is why she can put it all behind her. This is why she can forgive and forget. This is why she can try and be kind to Paula Carlin and not shut the door in the woman's face.
This is why she can set aside her insecurities and look a little closer at what she has and not at what she never had in her own life, in all those holidays gone by.

And isn't that what Christmas is all about? Right?

And they do have that talk. And Ashley listens, she truly does. And while she doesn't like being compared to Paula, maybe it is kind of true. Maybe. She won't admit that out loud, though.

When it is all said and done, it is officially Christmas and they finally collapse into bed, the events of the night leaving them more sleepy than usual.
Ashley looks over at Spencer, the girl's eyes shut and clothes half off - legs bare and shirt still on - and she falls in love all over again.

"Spence?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"I know."

And Ashley leans over, placing a long kiss to Spencer's cheek.

"Merry Christmas." She whispers and the girl doesn't open her eyes, but Spencer smiles and pulls Ashley close, wrapping them up in the blanket on top of the bed.
Those arms hold Ashley close and those lips find Ashley's, giving a sweet kiss, before a softly mumbled 'Merry Christmas, baby' drifts from Spencer's mouth.
And over Spencer's shoulder, Ashley can see out the window and see the snow still falling down and life is pretty damn good.

Maybe Paula and Ashley will never be perfect. But they might get there, one day.
Maybe Christmas will never be Ashley's favorite day. But it might get better, one day.

But there won't be a list for Santa to look over from Ashley Davies, no toys to leave under the tree, not this time. Ashley has all she could ever want in Spencer Carlin.

And that makes her believe that 'one day' will actually happen.

You know, one day...

And Ashley grins to herself, settling down within Spencer's embrace, and falls asleep.

/ / /

:END: