warnings: mentions of smoking

keri paced around the kitchen, bare feet making soft slapping noises against the tile. her phone was in one hand, the other tapping nervously on the counter. ivy hadn't picked up her phone all night.

8 calls to ivy

what had happened to her? god, caleb would lose his mind when he came home the next morning. keri glanced up at the clock again, feeling her neck crack. ten pm. she'd told Ivy to be home an hour ago. maybe she had gotten lost. the train had malfunctioned. or kidnapped! the woman felt her blood run cold. shit. she had heard too many horror stories about young girls who'd gotten raped in the street, late at night.

seizing her phone, hands shaking, she scrolled down to find caleb's number, only to skip past the c section of the contacts. she swiped furiously up. stopped. the screen had become distorted. squinting, she looked at it. more spots of the phone were becoming oddly wavy. keri touched one area with her phone and felt her finger wet.

the door opened, a soft schlick of someone sneaking in. keri felt her heart rate pick up. she dashed into the hall and gave a soft scream. ivy was there, facing the door, clearly trying to come in unnoticed. relief shot through her veins like a drug, and suddenly ivy was in her arms. the little girl who had wormed her way into her heart.

"ivy!" she cried, feeling warm liquid pouring out of her eyes and onto her step-daughter's sweater, "you're home. you're ok."

ivy didn't move. she didn't say anything. she didn't hug keri back. keri let go and held her at arms length.

"you are ok, aren't you?"

that's when the smell hit her.

"ivy. You've been smoking."

she didn't say a thing, just glared into keri's eyes. keri felt her heart hardening. this was what she'd been doing. the cause of an hour's stress.

"explain yourself. you had me so worried! you have no idea, i was so scared. i thought you'd been raped or got lost or something. i was just about to call your dad-"

"you didn't have to."

"i- what?"

"you don't have to worry about me. you're not my mother after all."

what? after baking for her, signing permission slips, laughing about kids at school, gossiping about work, writing sad poetry, dance parties to bad 2000s music, philosophy at 2am, she still wasn't her mother. after loving her with all the love a mother could give, she still hadn't earnt the position. what else could she do?

what do you do when you've done everything you know how to do and it's still not enough?