The Parenthood Drabbles

*The Jar

In the style of Danny and Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Disclaimer: I don't own Rachel

In the style of Danny and Rachel Elizabeth Dare

*

Age 5
"Hey Dad," Rachel said having managed to sneak into his office. She really wanted a pony. She'd been thinking about it for a long time, and she thought that if she could find it a spot in a nice stable (like her book said) and name it Buttercup and go out and ride it a bunch of times a week it could work. "Do you think- well, would you mind if I..."

"Look in the top drawer of the writing desk near my door, Rachel. There's a fifty dollar bill there for you and your mother, go have fun." He said, covering the speaker of his phone.

And so Rachel took it, and she put it in a jar once she found out that fifty dollar bills could not buy ponies.

*

Age 7
"Daddy!" Rachel said sneaking into the office. She was clutching her test, she's spelled every word correctly and gotten all of the multiplication tables right. Much better than her last test! Her teacher had been so proud she'd put a sticker in the top corner and had written 'good job Rachel!'

A bunch of grumpy looking guys in business coats turned around.

"Sweetie, not now." Dad said. The other men were looking at her Dad with scowls, so he got up and snuck away from them and to her.

He reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet and handed her a bill.

"Is this going to work until Daddy has a little more time? It will? Okay." He kissed her on the cheek, patted her on the head, and sent her off.

It wasn't exactly what she'd been expecting. She'd even spelled 'quadrilateral' right.

She put the bill in a jar.

*

Age 11
"Dad," Rachel said. "Micah's hosting a..."

"My wallet's in my coat, Rachel." He groaned not looking up from his paperwork. "There's a fifty with your name on it, you can get whatever you need and we'll discuss details later, yes? Yes, goodbye sweetheart, Daddy's busy."

Rachel pouted, though he didn't see. And she pouted until she got back home and put the bill in a jar.

*

Age 13
"Dad, I'm running low on acrylic and I gave my allowance to the carollers who were around yesterday so..."

"Rachel, can't you see I'm busy?" He said pointing to the laptop where he was having a conference. "Just... There's fifty dollars in my coat pocket for whatever it is you need."

Rachel took a deep breath, forcing herself not to kill him, and took a bill.

*

Age 15
She walked in on him in the morning, as he was getting ready in his room. The door had been wide open, and Rachel had been waiting for a chance to ask.

"Dad, Percy and I..."

"The boy?"

"Well of course Percy's a boy, who names their girl Percy?"

"Well his parents weren't married..."

"Dad!"

"Okay, okay- Percy and you wanted to do something- that's perfect sweetheart," he said tying his tie. "Sounds like fun. There are a bunch of twenties in the top drawer of my dresser, you can take a few from there."

*

Age 16
"Happy birthday, sweetheart." Dad said handing her a card. She was hoping that whatever present was attached to it was hidden somewhere else- maybe she had a scavenger hunt?

She ripped open the envelope. The card was your standard card, found under 'Daughter's birthday' at any pharmacy. When she opened it to see the message and check for a signature, a fifty dollar bill fell out.

"Thanks Dad," Rachel said knowing right there that the gift wasn't getting any more personal. "I love it."

*

Age 17
"Dad, I think that this summer I should head to camp a bit earli-"

"Smart idea love," he said hastily passing through the kitchen, just grabbing the cup of coffee she'd put on the breakfast nook for him. "Here's a fifty, you can book yourself a... whatever it is you use to get there."

*

Age 18
"So, have you gotten back to the people at Harvard?" Dad asked her over dinner. "That's a very generous scholarship they're offering you. Law is a growing industry, you know."

"Actually Dad, I already accepted a scholarship," Rachel said taking a sip of Perrier.

"Really?" Mom asked. "Oh sweetheart, that's wonderful! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Which school did you take above Harvard?" Dad frowned. "I graduated from Harvard, it's a fine place."

"New York U," Rachel said casually. "The department of Art."

Her dad choked on his drink. "You're going to art school?"

"That's generally what happens to students attending classes in the department of arts, yes." Rachel said.

"What?!" Her Dad roared. "No, no, no- I will not stand for this. I will not pay for classes on how to make pretty pictures and waste paper and ink."

"Actually Dad," Rachel said reaching under her chair. "You did."

She slapped her jar of fifties onto the kitchen table.