"Kid, you really need to learn the Kennard/Porter cycle," Alice pointed out.

"They like to mix it up," Angelica pouted. To her aunts, she’ll always be ‘kid’ or ‘kiddo’, so she’d since stopped trying to get them to stop calling her that.

Alice glanced at her. "Have I mentioned that when you pout you look exactly like your mother?"

"Which one."

"Both of them."

Angelica glared at her.

"Now, that’s just Porter written all over it." Alice laughed.

"How’s Damon?" Angelica asked, naming Alice’s son, hoping to change the subject.

"You just saw him the other week. How much difference do you expect from a nine-year-old?" Alice asked.

"Puberty?" Angelica shrugged.

"I hope not." Alice shuddered. "Between myself and your uncle I don’t want to subject ourselves to that."

"You could’ve thought of that nine years ago," Angelica pointed out.

Alice looked at her. "Why do you do this to me? I get enough wise-ass answers from your moms, you know."

"Eyes on the road," Angelica said simply.

"Yeah, and you’d know, right?" Alice grinned.

Angelica grimaced. "MaBe’s going to kill me."

"Slowly." Alice nodded. "Maybe she’ll let you examine your guts first."

"Why do I have to be in a car accident?"

"’Cause it’s in your genes," Alice said matter-of-factly. "You know, Porter’s broken her fair share of traffic rules in her time."

"I bet," Angelica sighed. "Did she total her car?"

"Total, no." Alice laughed. "There was this one time that… never mind."

Angelica glanced at her. "I’m supposed to get a job."

"Good for you, kid." Alice grinned. "Earn your keep."

Why was she so surprised by how supportive her aunt wasn’t being.

"Hey, how’s that boyfriend of yours?" Alice asked suddenly.

"Why?" Angelica asked suspiciously.

"What was his name? Logan, Duncan, Troy, Leo…"

"Jake."

Alice looked at her. "That’s his name?"

"Yes."

"Jake. That’s such a yuppie name. Implies a world of boring."

Angelica didn’t bother questioning her aunt’s thought process. Still. "He’s not boring."

"I bet." Alice glanced briefly at the teenager. "Hey, cheer up, kid. Worst case scenario you get whiplash from your mom’s lecture."

Angelica knew there was no way she could discredit her aunt’s words, especially since she’d always had her sit-down lectures in public places (The Planet) or with her mom nearby (home). Never in her MaBe’s territory.

As if sensing her feeling of dread, the Gallery came into view a little too soon.

"Here we are," Alice said cheerfully, trying to abate the teenager’s impending doom.

Angelica slowly undid her seatbelt, and took a deep breath.

"Hey, Angie, it’s okay. I mean, this is your mom we’re talking about." Alice said reassuringly.

Angelica glanced at her. "She’s had time to think about her lecture."

"Sucks to be you," Alice said elegantly. "Go on. And tell your Blondie McHottie of a mother to call me later."

"Please don’t call my mom that."

"Kid, they’ll always be Porter and Blondie McHottie to me." Alice told her. "Now, scoot. I have to pick up my kid."

"Thanks for the ride to my doom, Aunt Alice." Angelica said, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Anytime, kid." Alice laughed, not missing the sarcasm. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah?"

"How many times did you say ‘mommy’?" Alice inquired.

"I did not–" Angelica was cut off by a hand being placed on her shoulder. She turned, and found her mother looking at her. "Mom. Hi."

"Hey, Porter. Just making a delivery." Alice told Bette.

"Thanks, Al." Bette waved her off, her left hand never leaving Angelica’s right shoulder. Once Alice’s car was clearly gone from view, Bette turned to Angelica. "Come inside."

"Oh, but there’s something about the outdoors that’s really helping me," Angelica said.

"Angelica, in some cultures that remark would warrant you punishment." Bette said simply. "Inside."

Angelica walked, her mom’s right hand seemingly like the weight of the world on her shoulder.

tbc