𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

fifty | mother

"10 bucks says she tanks in the first 5 minutes."

"I have faith in the Rising Phoenix. She'll make a good impression."

"She's had six glasses of club soda already. It's like Meredith with an entire bottle of tequila."

"Hey. . .I wish you were wrong."

The five residents of Seattle Grace sit in my living room, sprawled across the furniture — each nursing their own alcoholic concoction.

However many times I've scrubbed the countertop, it looks dirtier every time.

"Mothers must hate me if my own left when I was five." The most ridiculous of giggles falls short of my mouth. "I'll pay any of you to pretend to be me for the entirety of her visit."

"You don't smoke, you don't drink —"

"I can't smoke, and I can't drink."

"Regardless. . .you're basically any mother's dream." Alex waves a drunken hand.

My eyes roll with a flutter. "That's Izzie, dimwit. Izzie's the perfect little angel any mother would want as a possible daughter-in-law."

"Woah, woah, we're talking about marriage here?" Cristina raises both hands with a stunned look on the face.

"Possible daughter-in-law." I re-emphasize. "And that's only if I don't die in the next big disaster that throws our life off-course. Or one of the illnesses coursing through my lungs and —"

"Stop cleaning, or you'll put a dent in the marble."

"No, I won't. . .is that possible?"

So instead of wiping down every flat surface in sight, I check for chips or dents in the material that could ruin my first impression with Carolyn Shepherd.

The next morning, after prettying my face like I used to every day of high school, I arrive at the hospital in pristine condition.

"Well, don't you look like a doll." Derek greets me with a sweet kiss to the cheek.

"Is that bad?" Eyes open wide in fear of doing or saying something wrong. "Does your mom hate dolls? Why didn't you tell me sooner —"

His finger juts against my lips to shut me up. "Relax. Take a deep breath in."

Air enters through the nostrils, and my chest puffs out to contain the intake. Long moments pass, and Derek stares at me.

"Out, Leven. You have to breathe out, too."

Holding my breath so long causes a short period of dizziness to take over, but a couple seconds later, I'm back to normal.

"You have to relax, Lev." His fingertips graze the apples of my cheeks. "She'll love you. I guarantee it."

"Can I get that written on paper?"

"Be yourself. It's what made me fall in love with you in the first place."

"Am I trying to impress her or date her, Der?"

Soon enough, Derek's mother arrives from the airport in time to greet her son and briefly reunite with Mark.

Until it's my turn.

Derek lets out an exhale upon seeing me. "Perfect timing. Um, Mom, this is Leven."

"Leven, finally." She welcomes me with a warm, maternal grin to my surprise. "My son has been acting like a dog with his favorite bone, hiding you away."

"Well, that wasn't too nice of him." I watch him over her shoulder.

"I hope you're free for lunch." Her arms wrap around in a relaxing embrace. "I can't wait to dive in and find out all about you."

Lunch can't come any sooner as I sit in the cafeteria with the mother-son duo, knee bouncing underneath the table.

The only way it stops is when Derek slides a hand over my leg in silent comfort and reassurance.

"Derek tells me you're from New York as well? Where did you grow up?"

"Oh, in Manhattan. My dad taught in Columbia, and he didn't want to leave me alone at home for long periods of time."

She places her fork down on the plate of pot roast. "I should have realized sooner. You're Lennox's little girl, aren't you?"

"I am, yeah." I nod my head once.

"How is he doing?"

"He's been in and out of a rest home for almost two years now. But nothing can stop the old man from showing up to work."

"Oh. . .I'm so sorry. But your mother must be doing well?"

"She, um, left us when I was five. And died some time ago."

Derek sits up against the chair protectively, sensing the drastic change in mood. But her lips purse in sympathy as she reaches a hand across the table.

With a clearing of the throat, I uplift the conversation with a change in subject. "Five children who all turned out to be doctors. That can't be easy, can it?"

"Anytime I show up, I can only visit them on their time." A laugh breaks the minimal tension lingering in the air.

She nudges Derek's shoulder, who can't hide the grin growing on his face at the sight of his mother getting along with me.

"Dad used to be the same way." My gaze drifts to Derek's momentarily. "Sometimes I think the only reason I became a doctor was to have more talking points with him."

As the day goes on with doctors in and out of the O.R., I find myself sitting outside the hospital with a third cup of coffee in hand.

"Care if I join you?"

I'm met with the unwavering gaze of Mrs. Shepherd.

"Not at all. I actually. . .need to talk to you about something."

She sits down on the bench, leaning against the backrest for support. "Would it have anything to do with the fact that you don't think you're good enough for my son?"

"And I tried so hard to hide it." The tip of my nose rubs against the back of my hand.

"Not hard enough, sweetheart."

"The number of arguments we've had. . ." I chuckle hoarsely. "It's always been surrounded by the thought of one of us not being good enough for the other. And now I guess it's my turn."

"Leven, sweetheart. . ."

"Did Derek tell you I have the same illnesses that my father has? Or how close I was to a bomb blasting, almost drowned from a pacemaker malfunction?"

". . .he di."

"After all of that. . .why has he stayed?"

"Those aren't the only things he's mentioned, you know." She sits upright. "The house of candles you made on his land, how you stood up to your own father to prove your love for him?" Her hand slips over top of my trembling ones.

A shuddering breath leaves my lips. "I really do love your son. And I want to make a perfect impression with you. . .but I'm nowhere near perfect."

"It was very nice to meet you, Leven."

"And you as well, Mrs. Shepherd."