level 5 - the parent trap
featuring: yn enters the weekly wine night of some resident mothers and has an interesting phone call with eric.
notes: I knew i had to get the other moms in on this when I started the fic. got to have the mom representation fr.
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When I entered the house, a crowd of women waited for me. Normally, this would be a welcome thing. Who would be unhappy about coming home to a roomful of women? However, this wasn’t my house I was coming back to and the women were all strangers sitting in the living room with glasses of wine, staring at me blankly as I waddled into the room.
Liane jumped up from her spot on the couch, setting a glass of wine on the coffee table before rushing over to the door where I stood awkwardly counting the seconds before I self-destructed. She took me by the arm and led me around the couch to face the two other women.
“This is who I was telling you about! The one staying in Eric’s old room!” Liane explained
“These are the girls I was talking about having over earlier.” Liane turned back to the other women, “They were stopping by Tweek Bros Coffee after the kerfuffle this morning.” She explained before turning back to me.
“How was Tweek Bros? It’s the go to place for most locals so hopefully you were able to find something you liked.” Liane jumped as though she’d forgotten something important, “Would you like to sit down? I’ve got extra wine glasses and plenty of wine to go around.” She asked with a smile. A voice jumped in from the couch before I could respond.
“Oh, so you’ve got three bottles for Sheila this time?” A woman with short brown hair smirked, tipping her glass towards the other woman with a bright red beehive hairdo who let out an offended gasp.
Status: Part-time Receptionist
Fun Fact: Sharon’s tried a few different local book clubs but hates romance books so she usually leaves after a month
“I distinctly remember you being the one who drained a whole bottle of moscato in an hour last week.” The other woman’s offended facade broke slightly as she laughed at the memory. The brunette shook her head, fighting back a smile as she pretended to not know what the red head was talking about.
Status: Human Rights Defender
Fun Fact: Sheila has the record for starting the most GoFundMe campaigns and even made a campaign to fund her starting other campaigns
Watching the women banter back and forth, one thought came to the front of my mind.
I have to be friends with them. There is no other option.
“I’d love to join you, if that’s alright.” I lowered my bag onto the ground. Liane smiled and nodded, ushering me towards the armchair which sat on the other side of the couch from her own.
“Let me introduce you to the ladies,” Liane said as she walked me towards the chair. She pointed a hand at red haired women on the couch, introducing her as Sheila. The woman wore a black blazer with a button up shirt underneath to complete her professional ensemble. She might be a good person to network with. Any woman in an outfit like that past 7 pm is a professional at heart.
Liane moved her hand to point at the other woman with the shorter brown hair. Her name was Sharon. She wore a sweater that matched her hair with cuffs around the neck and wrists. The outfit looked perfect for a comfy wine night with some girlfriends. Do I have any sweaters like that? I need to buy a sweater like that.
After the introductions, Sheila gave me a small wave while Sharon lifted her glass of wine towards me with a smile.
Sheila, red hair. Sharon, brown hair. Sheila, red hair. Sharon, brown hair.
I repeated the names and identifiers in my head a few times. The names were a bit too close for a first time meeting.
God that’s so fucking nerdy.
There is nothing nerdy about being terrified of getting people’s names wrong leading to them hating you forever… Okay, maybe that sounds slightly nerdy.
Liane asked again if I wanted any wine and I accepted, hoping it’ll help me move into the atmosphere of the group easier. I wasn’t a huge wine drinker but it’s made to be held in a glass rather than chugged anyway so I could slide by without having too much.
Wow, way to give into peer pressure.
If giving into peer pressure means I infiltrate MILF central, it’s a risk I'm willing to take.
Liane handed me a surprisingly large glass-
That’s not a glass. That’s a fucking GOBLET.
I thanked her as I took the glass, resting the bottom of the glass on the arm of the chair, trying to mimic Liane’s posture as she returned to her seat. Social chameleon. Blend into the atmosphere. They won’t even know I’m extremely anxious right now because I’m so cool and interesting.
“You never told me how Tweek Bros was. It normally gets crowded around midday so I hope the visit was nice for you.” Liane asked again, taking a sip from her glass. I mirrored the sip, nodding with a smile as I swallowed.
“It was perfect! Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll probably start going regularly now.” I paused, debating whether or not to share the story about Craig and his excel phobia, “I ended up helping a guy learn how to use excel so I stayed there for a bit longer than I originally intended. I think he was supposed to be handling the place’s finances but he had zero idea what he was doing.” The story ended with a light laugh from me at the memory of Craig’s twisted expression as his eyes jumped between the financial records in the folder and the computer screen.
The others laughed at the story as well. Sharon stopped with a small gasp, “The Tweak’s are out of town right?” When Liane nodded in agreement, Sharon turned back to me, “Was he blonde, hair sticking all over the place, and a bit jumpy.” She described the boy from behind the counter, waving a hand around her head to help visualize Tweek’s eternal bedhead.
I shook my head, “No, no, he was behind the counter. The guy at the computer had black hair. His nametag said he was Craig.” Sharon hummed, nodding as she considered the new information.
“That’s not surprising. Out of the two, I couldn’t imagine Richard’s son attempting to do finances.” Sheila commented garnering various agreements from the other two women.
The conversation was paused as a phone began to ring. Sheila jumped at the noise, clearly familiar with the sound as she patted around the couch near her until she pulled out the source of the noise.
“It’s Kyle, just a moment, ladies.” She announced, accepting the call and bringing it to her ear. Sharon and Liane began talking amongst themselves. I tried to listen in but I sat closer to Sheila, making it impossible to join the conversation without talking over the woman on her phone. So I sat and did what anyone in that situation would do. I eavesdropped so fucking hard.
“Hello Bubba, what’s going on?” Sheila took another sip of wine from her glass, “No, I’m at Liane’s right now with the girls for wine night. Your father should be home with Ike though.”
“I’m not sure, we’ve been chatting for a few hours now but the person staying with Liane joined us,” Sheila gave me a small smile as she mentioned me, “and we’re getting to know them a bit-” A wave of shouts sounded from the phone. The volume caused Sheila to pull the phone back from her ear and drew Sharon and Liane away from their conversation. We all shared concerned looks at the cause of the sudden spike in volume.
Sheila returned the phone to her ear, “Kyle, what was that- Well, yes, they’re sitting right here-” She cast a quick glance towards me, brows furrowed as she listened to the person on the other side of the phone, “Um, well, I don’t see why not. Give me a second, let me ask them.”
She lowered the phone and turned to me, “Liane’s son is asking to speak to you for a moment. I’m not sure what it’s about but it sounded urgent.” She held out the device. I looked down at the phone then back at the women on the couch. Sharon’s face had pulled into a frown, a quick shake of her head accompanied a pointed look at the phone. At least I’m not the only one who dislikes Eric. Granted, I can’t exactly express that while sitting in front of his mom who’s also my landlady.
But you could say it to him over the phone and say that he provoked you first.
Like they would believe that.
If all else fails, just start crying.
I took the phone, excusing myself as I walked towards the kitchen. I brought the phone up to my ear as I walked through the doorway, leaning against the dining table.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH! YOU BETTER BE THERE TO MOVE YOUR SHIT OUT OF MY ROOM BEFORE I GET THERE AND THROW IT OUT THE GODDAMN WINDOW-” I pulled the phone back from my ear, understanding why Sheila had done the same a few minutes before.
The shouting continued for a solid minute but I kept the phone at a long enough range where I couldn’t hear most of what was being said. I really didn’t need to be bored listening to a bitchy brat snark at me. Once the shouting died down, I brought the phone back to my ear as the response formulated in my head.
“Literally shut your goddamn mouth, Eric. You touch any of my stuff, I’m telling everyone about your Transformers slash fics.” A gasp sounded on the other end.
“How do you know about that?”
I chuckled, pushing off of the table to pace the kitchen, “You shouldn’t leave your fucking diary in the bedside table, dumbass. I’ve read every single thought you’ve recorded for the last 15 years. Never thought someone could imagine such inaccurate shit in so many embarrassing ways then have the audacity to record it. It would be so awful if these were printed and pasted all over town. Definitely life-ruining.” I mused, spinning on the ball of my foot as a giddy energy filled my walk.
Silence followed the comment. Beautiful, pitiful silence. I could almost see his slack jawed expression in my mind.
A rustling sounded on the other side of the line, “Dude, I think you broke him. What did you say?” A new voice spoke, a breathy laugh following the question. He sounded impressed with my work. I knew Eric would be taken aback, but I hadn’t expected the threat to work this well. It was hard not to brag but I knew it was a better idea to keep this blackmail in my pocket for a bit longer.
I scrambled for an answer, “Nothing at all. Just let him know how thankful I am for letting me stay in his room while I’m in town.”
I wasn’t able to fight the smile that spread across my face, barely holding back the urge to begin cheering then and there. A fist pumped into the sky for a silent celebration.
Suck it, Eric Fartman. Stay mad, fucking loser.
I reentered the living room as a champion. Well, I felt like one at least. I stood up straighter and my steps were filled with a comforting confidence as I returned the phone to Sheila. I flashed Sharon and Liane a thumbs up to let them know everything was fine then fell back into my seat, taking a sip of my wine. The sour taste covered my tongue. The taste of victory.
Okay, cool it with the weird battle metaphors.
I just feel really good about shutting his ass up.
Just don’t jinx it by being a fucking idiot.
Sheila finished up her conversation, ending the call with an exaggerated kissing noise before putting the phone away. Sharon and Liane’s side conversation trailed off as they waited to hear the recap of the call.
“Kyle was just asking if anyone was at the house. He needed to get something from his room but he forgot his keys on the table last time he was over.” Sheila explained. The ladies nodded, taking sips of their wine in acknowledgement before turning to me. Sheila followed suit leaving me cornered by three wine moms.
I tried to mirror Sheila’s nonchalance, “Oh it was nothing. Eric just wanted to tell me not to snoop around his room. Normal stuff.” I took a sip of my wine to hide the grin inching across my face. They all nodded, repeating the sips of acceptance as though it were an unspoken rule after a consensus had been reached to share a drink.
Conversation moved through different topics of local gossip: the state of Tweek Bros Coffee during the owners’ absence, the new interim principal of the elementary school, and a ton of names I didn’t recognize in the slightest. My mind raced to take mental notes of all the details. The environment appeared to an outsider like a casual wine night but to me it was a crash course on the town I’d be staying in for the next few months.
“I can’t believe that Stotch’s son is the one running the elementary school.” Sharon laughed as she vocalized the absurdity of the situation.
“I know,” Sheila replied, “He’s only what, 22? I couldn’t imagine Kyle being in charge of all those snotty kids. He can barely handle his brother when we leave town for a weekend.” The room roared with agreement, wine glasses clinking in solidarity that they also didn’t believe a 22 year old could handle running an elementary school. The thought alone gave me a headache. Or that was from hearing Eric’s voice two times in a single day. If I had to listen to him talk for a full day, I’d probably need a bottle of ibuprofen after the first hour.
“Actually, yn is the same age as Kyle, aren’t you?” Liane directed the room’s attention to me as I was mid-sip of wine. My eyes widened as I realized they were waiting for me to respond. I quickly finished the sip and nodded, wiping a bit of the wine from the corner of my mouth.
“Yeah, feeling 22 just like Taylor Swift said.” An awkward chuckle bubbled from my throat, unsure of how to respond to the general question about my age, “I couldn’t imagine watching an entire school, though. I’ve babysat before but that’s a whole different game.” Sheila jumped at the new information.
“You babysit?” She asked, leaning towards me.
“Oh, yeah! I helped out a few families while I was on campus. Mainly older kids though, just making sure the house doesn’t burn down and things like that-”
Sheila cut me off, speaking so fast I almost couldn’t understand what she was saying, “So you’d be able to watch over my son while my husband and I are gone for the weekend?”
“Uh- Well-” I sputtered, taken aback by the sudden question.
Before I could respond, Sheila started speed talking again, “He’s 15 so you wouldn’t be watching him the whole time! We just need someone available in case he sets the house on fire or some other emergency. My son, Kyle, is going to be in town but he’s always wrapped up with whatever thing his friends are doing that day-”
“Yeah, absolutely! I’d be happy to!” I agreed without much thought to what I was saying.
Wait what the fuck are we accepting?
I’m not too sure but I feel like she would’ve kept talking until we said something.
There are so many other ways to do that which don’t include agreeing to make sure a 15 year old boy doesn’t die.
Well I should’ve thought of that earlier. I’m a babysitter now.
Sheila grinned, clapping her hands with the wine glass still gripped in one hand, “Wonderful! You’ll be such a huge help, you have no idea. Oh! You should stop by tomorrow to meet Ike and Gerald, just so they know who you are.” Sheila continued to rattle off things I should do to prepare for her and her husband’s trip as I nodded along. The mental list of what I’d just agreed to continued to grow longer and longer until I started to forget the items at the top of the list.
“Just stop by during dinner tomorrow and we’ll go from there.” Sheila ended by handing me a piece with her phone number and address on it. Taking the paper, I thanked her. The words came out slowly as my mind tried to process all of the new information and catch up to the present.
Sharon sighed, “I think you overwhelmed them, Sheila. They’re probably exhausted from the day and now you’re word vomiting in them.”
I shook my head, waving hands to brush off the concern, “No, no, it’s all good! I just didn’t expect to be babysitting in a new town so quickly. I guess I’ve just got the magnetism, huh?” I laughed in hopes of clearing the air of any worry. It worked as the other women mirrored the laugh.
“Gerald and I have just been needing a weekend away for months but whenever we try to go, Kyle’s not in town or it’s one of the few weekends that he’s home during the school year.” Sheila picked up the wine bottle to refill her glass as she spoke. Sharon nodded in agreement, taking the bottle from Sheila to fill her own glass as well.
“And that’s even if he wants to go out for a weekend. All Randy does is sit in the goddamn barn doing who knows what. Shelley hasn’t visited since spring break and now she’s not even coming home for the summer.” She swirled the wine in her glass as she spoke, eyes following the growing whirlpool of liquid as though entranced by the movement.
Is this what my parents do when I’m not home? Sit around and talk about how I haven’t visited for months or scramble to find a weekend for themselves?
The women continued to complain about their husbands, jobs, and anything else weighing on their minds. Liane jumped in with difficulties she had with different men then Sharon would follow with a wild tale of something her husband had done that weekend. I jumped in a few times with my own stories but most of my evening was spent listening. Mainly due to the interesting stories they were telling but also due to the slowly growing exhaustion that tugged my eyelids lower and lower.
With a goodbye interrupted part way through with a yawn, I thanked Liane for having me.
“Oh, anytime, yn.” She assured, holding both my hands in her own, “You’ve been such a delight! You’re always welcome.”
“And I’ll see you tomorrow!” Sheila called as I walked up the stairs. The hallway was the same but the slowly darkening evening light replaced the hopeful light I’d stood in that morning. The carpet felt more plush beneath my tired feet as I dragged myself to the bedroom.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH”
Eric’s voice rang through my head as I pushed open the door. The shadows appeared deeper in the room now that the sun was setting instead of rising. My eyes got lost in the corners. Did they keep going? What did those shadows hold? Maybe I should get a nightlight. I don’t want to know what hides in the dark corners of Eric Cartman’s bedroom.
Adding that to my todo list for tomorrow, I sighed at the slowly growing list of tasks. If I’d known things would get so busy on my first day in town, I would’ve gone back to sleep after the debacle of the morning. The accidental tutoring session followed by the extended meet and greet left me feeling extremely drained. I barely kept my eyes open as I pulled out some pajamas for the night and fell into the bed, still reciting the next day’s tasks as I slowly fell asleep.
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