“Evangeline,
what do you think you’re doing,” Camille demanded when she caught her daughter
licking a mixing spoon.
“Tasting
it. How else am I supposed to know when it’s right?” She poured the contents
into a pan to place on the stove. “And, FIY, it is right.”
She may
have less than dignified ways of testing her progress but none of her family
could deny the deliciousness of her brownies when they came out of the oven.
“Gross.
It’s disgusting out. Do you think it will rain all day?” Evangeline was staring
out the window, trying to figure out how to spend the weekend if she was cooped
inside all day. Torturing her brother sounded like that might be the way to go.
She made her way up to his room.
Emerson
had stayed in their old room when they became teens while Evangeline took the
playroom. They had played Rock, Paper, Scissors for it since the playroom was
larger but the bedroom had a better view.
“You’re
so scrawny,” she teased.
“I am
not.”
“You
are! Look at Dad compared to you. You’re never gonna get any girls.”
“Oh
shut up. You’re just a scrawny. And you have no boobs. Guys like boobs.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
They
both knew it was rather playful teasing, even if their words sounded harsh to
outsiders.
Even
so, Emerson took to staring at himself in the mirror often. His sister was
right. He was pretty skinny. He decided to see what could be done about.
“Hey,
um, Dad? Do you think you could, uh, help me buff up a bit,” he approached Donovan
since his dad was in pretty awesome shape.
“Sure.
It’s hard work. You willing to put in the effort?”
Emerson
was and they started right away. The weather kept them inside but Donovan had a
punching bag and pull up bar so there was no need to brave the rain.
“C’mon!
Pull! Use your muscles Emerson!” Donovan pushed, never relenting yelled
encouragement.
Emerson
was determined to be able to at least do one, one day.
The
weather continued. All of the Avendales were starting to wonder if it would
ever stop raining this fall. Luckily, a new movie had just hit the Bradford
theater so Evangeline and Emerson met up with Renata to see it. Renata wasn't quite as excited about Fistpunch but Evangeline loved a good action movie just
as much as her brother.
Evangeline
had saved her allowance from the time she had started receiving it and, once
she had her own room, she had finally decided what she wanted to do with it.
She’d seen some really neat bedroom designs based on modular shelves so she had
her dad take her to the hardware store to get the supplies and had spent the
weekend with him setting them up. She had more than enough room for everything
she might need to store.
Speaking
of, just where was that DMV piece of mail? Seriously,
I know I put it in one of these drawers!
She had received a letter from the St. Claire Department of Motor Vehicles on
her birthday, informing her that she was now eligible to receive her learner’s
permit and begin driving. Emerson had received a duplicate letter but she was
going to be insistent that she learn to drive so she could become independent.
“Mom,
will you take me driving?”
“Where
did you want me to take you,” Camille was purposefully playing dumb. She didn't think she was ready to teach her baby girl to drive just yet.
“Moo—oom.
C’mon! I’m old enough to drive now. I have this letter to prove it!” She’d
known that letter would come in handy!
“Fine.
But you’re learning in the cruiser.”
Evangeline
tried to contain her excitement and embarrassment all in one. She was learning
to drive! She’d be driving in a cop car.
“Why
are you slamming on your brakes,” Camille shouted an hour later when they had
finally made it a mile up the road. Camille had been unrelenting in her lessons
on where each control was and what it did and they had spent the first 45
minutes of the lesson in the driveway.
“Did
you see that girl on that bike? I didn't want to hit her,” Evangeline’s nerves
were clearly a little strung out at the moment.
“She’s
on the other side of the road. And about 100 feet in front of us. Just ease off
the gas instead of slamming. You can go now.”
Evangeline
slowly tapped her foot to the gas. The
cruiser lurched forward and Evangeline slammed on her brakes, worried that she
was going too fast. As they lurched back and forth, Camille felt like she was
going to be car sick but tried to give encouraging advice rather than
criticism. Finally, Evangeline eased on the gas and kept a steady foot.
Glancing
in her mirror, and then at the speedometer, Camille realized that they were
only driving about 10 miles an hour down one of Bradford’s main roads. Traffic
was never as bad in Bradford as it was in Kensington or Northcote so Camille
had felt they would be fine on these streets. The taxi tailing them might
indicate otherwise.
“Honey,
you might want to speed up a bit.”
“I’m
fine.”
“Eve,
you’re going 15 miles per hour under the speed limit. Other cars might like to
get to where they are going. Like the taxi behind us.”
“He can
stay off my ass!” Driving was clearly a little bit more difficult than she had
originally imagined.
“Evangeline
Avendale!”
“Sorry
mom.”
They
finally made it home in one piece. It was going to take a lot more practice,
maybe with Donovan in the passenger’s seat, before Evangeline got her license.
Having two children met they’d have to go through this with Emerson as well.
Camille silently noted to let Donovan handle Emerson’s first drive.
Fall
crept wetly into St. Claire day by day. The leaves, now crimson and golden,
began falling from their branches, littering the sidewalks. The crunch of
leaves underfoot was a pleasant, satisfying sound, when it was dry enough to
hear them anyway.
Neither
of the twins particularly liked school. They both knew they had to go and both
tried their best with their grades. Evangeline had her hopes set on getting
into a university so she spent most of her nights getting her homework done.
Emerson had joined several sports through the high school and wanted to be kept
on the team so he studied as well though not quite as hard as his sister. He
usually tried to study when she did so she could help him.
Most of
the time though, he whizzed through his homework, jotting down the first answer
that came to his head, so he could head to one of the local parks to practice
basketball or soccer. One such evening, he was shooting hoops by himself when
he saw a pretty girl make her way around the fence. Putting everything into it,
he jogged towards the hoop and jumped, dunking the ball. Fate was on his side
and the ball rolled a ways towards her.
“Oh,
sorry about that. I didn't see you there.”
“That’s
okay.” She picked up the ball and handed it to him. “See you around.”
“Wait,
what’s your name?”
“I’m
Sasha,” she said, turning away from him.
“Don’t
you want to know my name?”
“Emerson
Avendale. Freshman at Bradford High. Twin sister is Evangeline. On the
basketball team, soccer team, and trying out for football when the season
opens.”
“How do
you know all that?”
“I hear
things.”
“What
does that mean?” She smiled at him mysteriously, only one corner of her mouth
turned up. He couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or all-knowing smirk. He
decided to roll with it.
“You
forgot single and charming.”
“I didn't.”
“We can
fix one of those things,” he said, flashing her his best, most charming smile.
“I have
a boyfriend.”
Rather
than be disappointed, he pulled out his smart phone and snapped a picture of
her.
“What
was that for?”
“I don’t
like to forget a pretty face.”
He kept
her talking for a couple of hours, trying to figure out how she knew him
without him knowing her. Finally he gathered that she was on the yearbook committee
and it was her job to know these things. She wasn't quite so mysterious after
all.
“Alright,
well, I better be heading home.” She stood from the pavement and brushed her
pants off. He stood with her and, without waiting, pulled her into a hug.
“See
you around, Charming,” she said with a wink.
Sylie
Malone watched from the shadows. She’d come for a walk, just to get out of the
house on her own for a while. Seeing her son’s girlfriend flirting with the
Avendale boy wasn't what she had been expecting to see. She sighed.
Telling Reno would just make him more determined to prove his mother wrong so
she made the decision to keep her mouth shut.
The
weekend finally rolled around and the twins decided to check out one of the new
clubs that had opened up in Northcote. Renata met them there, as usual.
The
music was pretty decent and the club had a live DJ. The three danced, having a
blast. The DJ announced that she was going to take a quick, 15 minute break and
that the table would be open to anyone.
“Em,
you should try it out,” Evangeline shouted above the noise.
“Eh…I
don’t know,” he wavered, wanting to test it, especially since he’d been playing
with some tracks on the computer but not sure if he wanted to try it when there
were people there to hear it.
“Go!”
Renata jumped in, echoing his sister’s encouragement, and finally, he decided
to give it a try, if only to shut them up.
As he
stepped up to the booth, Renata pulled a little closer to Evangeline. “Do you
think he’ll be any good?”
“Well,
even if he totally sucks, at least this isn't college night and packed to the
walls!”
He didn't suck. The music he chose was actually pretty good and fun to dance to. That
said, the patrons were still happy when the regular DJ came back to her station
and took back over.
Camille
and Donovan had decided to have a date night that weekend as well. She spent
half the evening getting dressed up for the live theatre show they were going
to attend.
“Let’s
take a picture.” She pulled Donovan to her, wrapping her arm around him.
“You
know, one of the kids could take it. Or, I think I have that old tripod
somewhere around here.”
“If our
kids can take pictures this way, so can I. They never put those phones down.”
When
they arrived at the theatre, the tickets had been sold out and the doors were
closed. Unruffled, they crossed the street and went to the martini bar for some
drinks. Unfortunately, there was a big music guest there that night and the
doors were barred to people without special invitations or names on “the list”.
Donovan smiled and tried to sweet talk them past the ropes but the bouncer was
apparently paid too well.
“Let’s
just take the subway back to the house and walk from there. It’s a nice night,”
Donovan suggested. Unfortunately, that nice night turned sour as a torrential
downpour opened on them halfway back to the house. When they, at last, ran up
the steps, they were both drenched.
“That wasn't quite what I expected for date night. Tell you what, let’s take a
romantic vacation, just the two of us. We've not done that, not even for a
honeymoon and the twins are old enough to be left on their own for a week or
so.”
Famous
last words Donovan. Famous last words.
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I’m back…uh, again. I’m sorry I left you guys. Shortly after
posting my last chapter, I got a phone call that I needed to rush home to
Florida because my grandmother wasn't well. I made it home and she passed away
that same night. I stayed in town to help with arrangements and attend the
funeral and spend some time with my sister. When I got back, I wasn't really in
a playing mood and had to catch up with my moderating duties and just kind of
puttered around my game, mostly with builds for a little while.
Enough with the depressing bit though. I’m back and so are
the Avendales. My story is taking shape and I've got decent plots for both
twins, depending on how the heir vote goes. It will be up, along with the next
chapter when that is posted. Yes, I am still doing heir votes so get ready to
choose a favorite!
On another note, I hate how empty clubs always are. Though, to be fair, the club that they went to had three floors so most (all 2) of the sims that weren't mixologists or the proprietor were on the second floor with the karaoke machine. I really want to revamp some stuff in St. Claire but the lots sizes make it damn near impossible. I need to finish my world. *Adds to the list of things to do.
Unable to refuse his wife, he obliges. Her fertility complications catch up to her though and, in the process of giving birth to triplet girls, Abrielle dies in the maternity ward. Stricken with grief, Verne sends his 3 older children to boarding school, practically ignores the three younger children, and loathes his newborns. Mistake after mistake, fueled by alcohol and grief, Verne pushes his family away, leaving the older children to care for the younger. Only when Wren, the oldest, comes home from boarding school, does he realize the error of his ways. Some of the children, especially Yalena, the oldest of the children he kept home, resent his sudden interest in parenting though and he realizes that he may never be able to make up for mistakes.
