Summer/Fall 1983 - in the usual way

[readytoroar]

It's a natural sort of thing, of course, to be worried. It's entirely regular and completely normal.

And the Eichelns are, after all, an entirely regular and completely normal family. Charles is an entirely normal number of years older than his wife. Lorraine has given him, after all, a completely regular number of sons spaced at appropriate intervals. The boys are growing tall and bright and beyond the pale exactly the sort of children any Clubs family would be proud to smooth down the hair of and call their own.

So being worried as her eldest's twelfth birthday draws near is just an extension of that normalcy. It would have been far more odd if Lorraine wasn't worried that Edgar wouldn't throw himself with absolute immediacy--still so much a child in her eyes, still so much the little boy she felt she'd held swaddled in her arms just a heartbeat ago--into the sort of Challenges which had been known, on occasion, to take good Club boys away from their mothers and fathers and brothers.

If anyone, therefore, happened to be looking for her on the first chilly day toward the end of August, they would find Lorraine Eicheln baking rather purposefully in the Clubs kitchen.

Comments

[theunpressuredclub]

Rachel isn't looking for her, exactly. She's looking more for snack she and Argine can use as they play at tea time. It just so happens that her wandering into the kitchen coincides with the older woman baking in the Clubs kitchen.

She can't quite dip into a respectful bob of the head, but she tries, "Hello, Mrs. Eicheln."

[readytoroar]

There's an immediate smile for Rachel, of course. The girl isn't quite as well-known to the older woman as Andrew is, of course, but she's certainly got quite a soft spot for this particular friend of her son's.

So there's a calm smile entirely devoid, for the moment, of worry as she glances over at the young Club. "Rachel. What a lovely surprise. What's brought you down here, then?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"Argine and I are having tea, ma'am," she says with a prim sort of respect but a bright smile, "She sent me t'see if I could find anything for us to eat."

[readytoroar]

"Well," and she ducks just slightly, the same easy smile she has for her own children on her lips, "if you wait a minute, I'll be pulling some cookies out of the oven soon."

And if she's going to bake to handle the anxiety of her children growing up, someone ought to help with the product.

[theunpressuredclub]

She can't help the excited little bounce that comes in automatic reaction that, before the decorum her parents have been trying to drill into her takes charge again.

"--That'd be lovely. If you're certain, I mean."

[readytoroar]

It's such a precious thing, that little spark of excitement. It's something she still sees in her youngest son, in momentary flashes in the other two boys. It's something she remembers in Charles, a lifetime ago.

The shadow stays away from the corners of her lips now, at least, as she tsks and wipes flour from her hands.

"Absolutely. I've made dozens, mm? You can't expect me to let the boys have all of them, can you?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"No, ma'am."

Said with a wry grin as she imagines the thought. The Eicheln boys (and Andrew, when he's with them) are rambunctious enough as is. Them on dozens of cookies would be even worse.

[readytoroar]

"Good."

Her de-floured hands are run briefly under the water, shaken and brushed against a towel before she moves to get the cooling racks set.

"And how are you, dear?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"I'm well, ma'am. Thank you."

It's polite as it should be, but there's a hint of an easier candidness that lies beneath it.

"How're you?"

[readytoroar]

The duck of her head is entirely pleased. Andrew had been such a wonderful addition to the scramble of boys who tumbled in and out of the Eichelns' rooms, but she couldn't help being entirely glad for Rachel beginning to become a fixture as well.

She's a good influence. That's entirely clear.

"Not so badly. It's-- nice, to have a bit of time."

[theunpressuredclub]

Well. That gets her pausing tentatively.

"I apologize for interrupting, then."

[readytoroar]

"Oh, Rachel."

She pauses reaching for the oven mitts to instead reach briefly to squeeze the girl's shoulder. Slight browning on the cookies is hardly of huge imporance.

"You aren't, I promise. You'll understand, mm, when you have a house full of sons someday."

[theunpressuredclub]

"If you're certain."

And the thought isn't one she understands, yet, but she can at least accept it when she's reaching out so kindly.

[readytoroar]

There's a calm smile, just the briefest touch of the girl's hair before she moves to open the oven. The warm air isn't overly pleasant, but the smell of cookies is lovely.

"I am. I'm not certain you could ever be an imposition. Pass me the spatula?"

[theunpressuredclub]

Her words have the young girl grinning as she goes off to grab the spatula.

"Thank you, ma'am."

[readytoroar]

Another affectionate, impulsive reach to smooth the girl's hair, then her head bobs as she properly takes the spatula.

"Nothing to thank me for," she assures, beginning to move the cookies to the rack. "While these cool, why don't you tell me about school, yes?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"All right," she says cheerfully, flopping into a seat as she waits, "'s going pretty well. I really like the stuff we're learning in science about space."

[readytoroar]

"About space?" There's absolute approval in her tone as she glances over, smile firmly in place. "Are you going to leave us to live among the stars, then, Rachel?"

[theunpressuredclub]

A bright little laugh, "That'd be cool. But 've got things I'd rather do here."

[readytoroar]

Her hum continues in the vein of approbation, even though her attention stays on the cookies.

"What would you rather do here?"'

[theunpressuredclub]

"I wanna be an Ace," she says, with the bright optimism of a child who still believes in the impossible, "Papa says being a Face runs in the family, 'nd I like that one best."

[readytoroar]

It's always a little hard, at this age, to tell whether children want that sort of thing for themselves or for their parents. It sounds, on Rachel's lips, the same way the ambition of King sounds on Edgar's.

Lorraine hopes desperately they both actually want it.

"Why is it best?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"Doesn' seem as hard 's being a Queen," she replies, "And 's just cooler."

And maybe the job isn't entirely something she understands at this point, but she'll learn.

[readytoroar]

She's not sure any children who parrot the desire to be a Face fully understand it. It's going to be important as hell, she knows, to look after them as they turn into teens--start Challenging with single-mindedness.

"Is hard such a bad thing?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"I guess not really."

It's going to be hard, after all, getting that high up in the first place.

"'s just don't want to be having to do work stuff all the time. Seems boring."

[readytoroar]

"Good." There's unconscious tightness in her lips, but only for a moment. Her smile stays largely in place as she tests the first cookies she's pulled off the tray. "Never forget to stop working, some of the time. It's not as easy once you grow up."

[theunpressuredclub]

"Yes'm," comes the obedient response, although it's not really advice she'll learn to internalize for a long while yet.

[readytoroar]

It will be repeated. There's so much that will be repeated, over the years. She's ready for it.

"All right. How many of these can you and Argine take care of for me, sweetheart?"

[theunpressuredclub]

And she'll start to learn it, eventually. She'll start to understand why it's such an important lesson to learn.

A thoughtful hum, "Maybe a dozen? 'f that's all right?"

[readytoroar]

"You're sure that's all?"

It's been a long afternoon of stress-baking already, after all.

[theunpressuredclub]

"I guess we could get more," she admits after a moment, "Two dozen?"

Any more and both her mother and Argine's would likely fuss about a possibly wasted dinner.

[readytoroar]

It isn't, of course, that Lorraine doesn't enjoy speaking to both those women. It's just that this seems a fair compromise--and not quite so much that they'd have to have a 'why would you give them so much sugar' conversation.

"Lovely. Grab a plate, sweetheart."

[theunpressuredclub]

"Yes'm." So she'll be hopping off her chair to snag a plate and bring it over, "Thank you again."

[readytoroar]

"Any time, Rachel." There's a thoughtful dip of her head as she starts counting out cookies. "The two of you could come bake, sometime. If you ever wanted."

It might be nice, to pretend she had daughters, just for an afternoon.

[theunpressuredclub]

A surprised but positively bright little grin.

"I'd like that. I'll ask 'gine if she would, too."

[readytoroar]

"You just let me know."

Who knew? Maybe she'd even be able to wrangle one of her boys into helping, if it wasn't just 'time with mom.'

[theunpressuredclub]

"Yes, ma'am."

She clearly sounds like she's looking forward to it, whether in the company of one of the boys or not.

[readytoroar]

It's a wonderful thing to hear in the girl's voice. It absolutely means Rachel's hair will get one last ruffle before she's shooed along with the cookies.