Jessie & Elizabeth (abandoned)

14. Some Heroes Wear Rainbow Capes [Part 1]

The kids were up to something. The little troublemakers thought they were subtle, with their faces staring up at me in pure innocence and their hands tucked behind their backs. That was their first mistake. Only Camille could be described as somewhat innocent, and she was off at a friend's birthday party. Their second mistake was asking me if they could please go play out in the yard together. They rarely said please, and Manon usually claimed she wanted nothing to do with her stupid sister.

Yet, somehow, they thought they had fooled me.

Which was fine by me, and why I was currently sprawled out on the couch in the living room, scrolling the internet in search of an affordable new pair of sturdy boots. After all, I'd learned many of my life lessons by making mistakes, so who was I to deprive them of an opportunity to do the same?

"Jessie."

I yelped and sat up, dropping my phone. It clattered to the floor, right at the feet of Elizabeth, who was wearing sneakers, again. "Oh, shit," I said, my heart still up in my throat. "Don't creep up on me like that when you're not wearing heels, please. It's scary."

She rolled her eyes at me. Sometimes, it was like I had four responsibilities, three kids and one teenager. Even my sister had never rolled her eyes at Ma that often. "Maybe it's you who needs to be more alert," she said. "Do you even know where the girls are?"

I picked up my phone, inspecting it to check if the cracks in the screen had gotten any worse. "Yeah, they're out in the yard, getting into all kinds of mischief."

"Good to know you're doing your job, then." It was riddled with sarcasm, though it didn't really worry me. By now, I'd discovered how to find out if she was actually mad or just acting. She might be glaring at me right now, but as long as the sparks didn't light in her eyes, I was safe.

"I just figured it'd be good for them to make mistakes now, instead of in twenty years when the consequences will be much worse." Before she could go against me, I continued: "Did you need me for something? I'm not watching TikToks, so if that's what you're here for, you're out of luck."

That rewarded me with an annoyed sigh. Even though she still pretended we weren't friends, we absolutely were— the trust test had worked better than I'd expected. Most nights after the kids had been put to bed, we'd end up in the living room together, me swiping through TikTok, her pretending to be hooked on the news and boring talk shows, while in fact, she'd be craning her neck to see what I was doing. I'd told her she could just download the app herself, to which she'd said: "It's for children. I'm keeping up with current events."

Since then, it'd become my daily goal to find TikToks that made her laugh out loud and betray herself. I was getting really good at it too. Sometimes, though, one of them would hit too close to home, like the one that said, "ladies, facts: if he cheated on you, he'll most likely do it again". In those cases, she'd gulp back the remainder of her wine so quickly she'd be done before the video could replay, announcing she was tired and going to bed and that I, as a semi-responsible adult, should do the same.

"How many times do I have to tell you I have no interest in that app?" she said, throwing her hair over her shoulder. To the trained eye, it was clear she was blushing just a little. For some reason, she felt strongly about this, and it would've made me feel like an incompetent toddler if I didn't know she was lying to herself. "I'm here to give you something."

She held out her hands, looking down at me with a smolderingly intense gaze, one that could mean danger if I wasn't careful.

"A book...?" I took it from her, expecting it to be a kid's novel or a parenting guide, and turned it around.