Auntie Em

auntie em april 15 2018

Auntie Em

*an Emery & Chris drabble*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Emery pitches in to help her sister-in-law, Carly, when the kids are sick and Carly has plans. Her tutoring with his nephew goes slightly awry.

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 2141

To find out more about Emery and her life with Chris, begin with their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and follow up with their stories!

His voice is quiet, and she strains to hear him. “When are you coming home, baby? I miss you.”

Emery smiles. “I’ve only been gone two days; I’ll be home Monday.”

“I know, but it feels like it’s been fooor-eveeer.” He whines and stretches the word out.

She wraps her arm around the sleeping little one in her lap. “Good grief, listen to you, moaning like I’ve been gone for months.” She smiles at the other two boys, stretched out on the floor, coloring and playing with race cars.

Chris drops his voice and it vibrates through the phone. “I need you here to make me moan.”

“Oh stop,” she giggles. “Stella’s asleep in my lap.”

“Is she feeling any better?” Her heart flutters at the tender sound of his voice, so full of concern for his niece.

She nods, even though he can’t see her. She gently strokes the little girl’s hair back, checking for signs of a fever. “I think the fever broke a few hours ago. She was running around here with the boys just a bit a go, before she had another coughing fit. They felt so bad for her, they let her watch Frozen without whining.”

“It’s nice to have family close, when you have an emergency,” he hints. “Have you heard from Carly?”

“She’s been checking in every few hours. She can’t be enjoying their romantic get away if she’s worried about a sick kid.” Emery shifts on the love seat, her arm starting to fall asleep under the weight of the sleeping child. “I’ve got it under control. We went to Ethan’s piano lesson this morning, and Miles and I have been studying for his math test. We’ve had a good visit.”

“You sound tired,” he sighs. “Three will do that, but-”

“Which is why, Evans, we’re only having two-”

“I’m not stopping till we have a little girl, with fiery red hair like her mother,” he states.

“You really want two of us in the house?” She smiles. She sighs happily. More of their discussions have turned to family lately, with the Marvel end in sight. She’ll be sad when it’s time to see him hang up the shield, but with his success on Broadway, she looks forward to different opportunities.

“No, I want three of you. Two little girls, just like their mama, and a little boy?” He adds with a question.

At that moment, Miles lifts his head and turns to her and smiles. His boyish grin is so much like his uncle’s, she can’t help but giggle. “Okay, maybe you can twist my arm for three, but no more than that,” she acquiesces.

“It’s not about twisting your arm, kitten, you like it when I twist your-”

“Chris! Shh!” She blushes, quietting him as Miles crawls into her lap.

He holds out his little hand. “Auntie Em, can I talk to Uncle Chris?”

She hands him the phone, holding him close to her side and listening to him chatter with his uncle. Maybe three isn’t a bad number…

***

Standing at the sink, the two women pass the plates off to one another as they wash and dry, leaving things on the counter for the men to put away later.

“Really, Em, you didn’t have to have dinner waiting for us,” Carly repeats, running the cloth around the glass rim to dry it.

Emery feels around in the soapy water. Finding the sink empty, she looks to the counter behind her. “It was no trouble. I miss getting to cook for people. We’ve mostly been eating take out,” she explains. “I think that’s it. Anything else to wash?”

Carly looks around as well, and shakes her head. “Except for the plate with the cheesecake Scott took to the living room, and he can wash that himself.”

Emery nods and releases the plug from the sink, shaking the soap suds from her hands before rinsing them clean. She grabs a dry towel and wipes her hands before beginning to put the plates away in the cabinet.

Carly finishes with the last coffee cup and throws her towel on the counter. “Stop. The boys said they’d do it; leave it.”  She takes a step or two away and clicks the coffee pot on. “Another cup?”

Nodding, Emery continues to put away the plates, ignoring Carly’s glare. “I’m the oldest sister too. That look has no effect on me,” she announces.

With the Evans grin, Carly chuckles and reaches into the fridge for the creamer, setting out her coffee items on the counter. “Thanks again for coming down to watch the kids. I hope it didn’t change your plans.”

Emery waves it off. “Nothing more important than family. With Mom and Shanna both busy, I’m glad I could help out.”

“Not a lot of family close by if you’re in LA,” Carly suggests, taking the pot from it’s stand and pouring two cups.

“Gee, you’re not subtle or anything,” Emery giggles, reaching for her cup and adding a splash of the vanilla creamer.  She grabs two sugar packets and walks to the table. Knowing how the family grapevine works, she decides not to mention Tara is on the search for the perfect family home for them nearby.  After several long discussions, she’d made it clear she wanted them to have their own home in Boston, not one he’d previously shared with girlfriends. Chris had been open to her idea of finding something a little rough around the edges, so they could add their own touches to the home, and truly make it theirs.

Carrying over the plate of cookies, Carly sits in the chair across from her sister-in-law. “We’d love to have you both close. I know you like staying in Savannah, but home for him is here.”

“Carly,” Emery says sternly, “Home for us is wherever the other one is… It’s not a city or a dwelling. It’s here.” She rests her left hand over her heart, the kitchen lighting making her wedding ring gleam. “I know you want us here, but my family feels the same, Carly. Chris and I have to make decisions right for us.”

Carly passes her spoon to Emery, to stir the sugar into her cup. “I know, I didn’t mean… I was just making conversation,” she sheepishly says. “It’s fun you’ve been so close the last few months. It was nice to see you guys at Easter, and for us to have a good excuse to go to New York.”

Emery tilts her head. “It has been nice, and I look forward to coming back in a few weeks to do the training for your school district.”

“What’s his plan after the play ends? It’s been really strange to watch the promo tour stuff, and he’s not a part of it.”

Emery rests back in her seat. “Yea, I hate that too. It doesn’t seem right.” She shrugs. “After the play? I don’t think we have a lot of plans. I’ve only got three workshops scheduled for the summer. I’d like to spend time at the lake house with my family some, get to know Parker’s fiancee a bit better…”

The women chat well into the night, keeping clear of touchy subjects such as children and moving. Whenever Carly tries to push a topic Emery wants to avoid, she tactfully finds a way to shut her down. Eventually she realizes the time, and dismisses herself to bed, with the excuse of an early morning flight.

Carly wanders into the living room as Emery takes the stairs to the second level of the home. She drags her hands slowly over the photos that line the hall. At the top of the steps, she turns and looks down, smiling at the pile of shoes and backpacks by the front door. Scott steps into her line of sight, and waves goodbye, blowing her a kiss before quietly leaving the house. She turns and walks down the hallway, stopping to check in on the boys, fast asleep in their beds.

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In Stella’s room, the little girl clutches a bear to her chest, her thumb in her mouth.  Emery walks in quietly, the light from the closet adding a glow to the room. She pulls the little girls thumb out, tucking the little hand under the girl’s chin instead, pulling the blankets up higher to tuck her in. The tiny cherub sighs peacefully and Emery bends to kiss the top of her head.

Reaching the guest room, she yawns and pulls back the blankets before sitting down to take off her shoes. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she sends a quick message. “I miss you. I’m ready to come home. See you tomorrow.”

The red-head waits a few moments to see if a response will come. With no answer, she rises from the bed, and enters the bath to get ready for a fitful night’s sleep.

***

Wednesday afternoon, she waits on the small couch, still giggling from the text from Carly. She listens to the applause and waits for Chris to come back stage. An image of ‘Bill,’ his character in the play enters her mind.  The crisp blue uniform… The silly moustache… She gets the giggles again and can’t wait to show him the picture. He was crabby before the show, but she knows this will put him in better spirits. That and the box of pizza from John’s, sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey, Emery,” Brian calls out as he walks past the room, not stopping to talk.

“I got pizza!” She yells back.

She smiles when his head pops back in the door. “You’re a saint, a goddess among mere mortals.” He looks down the hall, and nods his head before looking back to her. “You have to be for putting up with this guy.” Brian Tyree Henry claps his large hand on Chris’s shoulder. “You found a good one, man.”

Chris smiles, dropping the officer hat from his costume into the chair and running his hands through his hair. “I’m just lucky she puts up with me,” Chris agrees.

“And I bring pizza,” she smiles, opening the box to the two men.

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“And she brings pizza,” Chris chuckles, leaning over the food to kiss his beautiful wife. He reaches down for a slice and takes a bite, chewing slowly. He sighs. “Pure heaven. If I could just have a beer, it would be damn near perfect.” He collapses on the couch next to her.

“No beer!” Someone calls out as they walk down the hall.

“Damn that promise I made,” he grumbles, taking another bite.

Bryan reaches for a slice and tilts it to Emery. “Thanks, Em, babe. But I really can’t stay. I’m meeting some friends for an actual dinner before we gotta be back for the night show.”

She nods, scratching her hands over Chris’s back absently as he scarfs down a second slice.  “Brunch Friday?”

He nods and mumbles his agreement behind his hand, chewing his food before excusing himself.

“Kitten, I gotta get changed. People are out on the sidewalk and-”

“Chris, I know. I know the routine by now. It’s good. I just knew you’d be hungry,” She shrugs. “Before you go, I want you to see the picture Carly sent me. It’s from Miles’ geometry test he took yesterday.”

Chris cocks his eyebrow, his expression curious as Emery opens her phone and turns the image to him.

“It’s his test paper? I don’t get it?”

“Chris! Look at what he drew!” Emery laughs, pushing the phone closer to him.

Chris begins to laugh. “What the hell?” His laughter is infectious and Emery loses it again. The more he looks at the test page, the more he laughs, to the point of wheezing and clapping his hand over his left pec.

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“Oh, shit! That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Text her back and tell her I have never been more proud of my nephew than I am right now! Please tell me he passed?” He laughs again and slaps his knee, rocking back to then wipe an actual tear from his eye.

She pushes on his back, shoving him off the couch. “Go, get changed. They’ll be here to take you out to sign any minute,” she giggles, glad she was able to cheer him up.

He rises, bending to kiss the top of her head. “You just made my day. That was better than the pizza, maybe even better than the sex this morning.”

“Watch it, Mister. Those are fighting words,” Emery laughs, slapping his ass as he walks away. She looks at her phone again and shakes her head in another fit of laughter.  She’ll have to make sure to include drawing lessons in her geometry tutorials next time, to ensure her younger students can draw a proper cylinder.

**Thanks to my IRL for sharing this actual test paper with me this week! As soon as I saw it, I knew it was an ‘Emery story!’

Images found on Pinterest

Text created using ifakemessage.com

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, Late Night

Copyright © 2018  avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Baking Cakes

baking cakes june 5 2017

*Emery&Chris*

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

by avenger-nerd-mom

Chris gets some time away from filming to surprise his wife Emery at their Savannah home.  He knows it will be a difficult visit, but home is where he is needed.

Word count: 2481

Drabble inspired by the cover photo in my collection.  It was found on Pinterest of actress Rachelle Lafevre, the “faceclaim” for Emery Thomas Evans.  Emery has been telling me parts of this story for weeks, and it’s a plot point I’ve known would happen since I began writing their tale in 2015.

Rumors of sightings in Atlanta and Chris’s birthday coming up prompted me to sit down and write this chapter.  The thing I’ve always loved about Emery&Chris is the fact that even though he’s a famous movie star, when he’s with Emery, he’s real.  And real life shit happens.  This is just a step on their path; no matter what happens, they’re together “till the end of the line.”

Warnings: Real life, Marriage, Language, Fluff, pain, loss, tears, depression, angst, fertility issues, insecurities, anxiety, family support

Based on these warnings, if you would like more information on this chapter before reading, please send me a message.  I do not want to give away any plot points to the story, but I also don’t want to trigger emotional distress for any of my readers.

Click here to find out more about Emery & Chris!

June 2017

“Lucy, I’m home!” Chris calls out in a silly voice, reminiscent of an old TV show.. The door bangs open and West’s barks echo through the house; happy her favorite playmate is home.

“Shit,” comes the muttered response from the kitchen.

Dropping his bags at the door, Chris chuckles, grabbing a stack of mail from the shelf on his way past.  “Is that any way to treat your returning war hero?”

Emery whirls around quickly stretching her arms wide on the counter to hide what’s behind her.

“Oh, honey.  Fuck.  Do you gotta come home in costume?  I think my panties just burst into flames,” she giggles.  “But… but.  You gotta go away.” Her mood changes and panic crosses her face.  “Go do…  something.  Go to the mancave and get a beer, or take West for a walk or something.”

“Emery Rose!  I have not seen my wife in… in what?  Seven days?”  He holds up his hands in surrender when she starts waving a spatula at him.  “No welcome home kiss?  Aren’t you- Em, are you hiding something?”

“Chris, go away! Please!”  She begins to pout when he dodges right and left to try to get a look at what she’s hiding on the new island counter.

Tossing the mail onto the table, he moves closer. “What is it?  Let me see!”  He says, finally grabbing her wrist with the cream covered spatula.  He raises it to his mouth and tentatively sticks his tongue on it.  “Buttercream.  My favorite.”

“Chris!  No. Stop.  You’ll ruin the surprise,” Emery nearly cries, her eyes welling up.

The handsome movie star freezes in his tracks.  “Alright. I’ll stop.  If you won’t walk away from whatever it is, then follow me to the living room.”

Still holding her by the wrist he begins to walk out of the room and she follows him, only to have been tricked when he twirls her around to see what she was hiding.

“Oh my God, Em.  Really?”  He steps forward, his own eyes starting to mist over.  “Is that for me?”

“Well, actually no, this one wasn’t for you.  It’s a practice cake.  I’m still working on getting it down perfect.  There’s a bubble in the fondant and-”

The counter is littered with bowls, measuring cups and egg shells.  In the center of the mess sits a round cake on a spinning wheel platform, slightly lopsided and only half decorated.

“Emery,” he pulls her close, truly looking at his beautiful wife for the first time since he’d walked through the door of their small Savannah home.  It’s theirs now.  It’s where they fell in love.  He’s not about to let it go.  He pushes her red curls back, seeing the flour dusting across her cheeks, covering the cute freckles he loves.  “You made me a cake from scratch?”

“Yea, well,” she shrugs.  “You told me to find something to take my mind off things.  I wanted to surprise you, so I’ve been taking some cake baking and decorating classes.”

“But my birthday is still a few days away…” He says, delivering a faint wisp of a kiss to the tip of her nose, holding her tight and trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I know.  This was a practice.  I was gonna take it over to Mom and Dad’s tonight so we could sample it.  Then next week I was going to make the real one- Susan was going to let me come to their rental house and use the big kitchen there and then I was going to bring it to the set and surprise you.  So, surprise!” she giggles, wiping away her tears.

“Robert’s wife?”  She nods and he wipes her tear stained cheeks.  “Stop crying.   The flour and the tears will make a paste on your cheeks…  I promise, I’ll still be surprised.”

She taps her fist against his muscular arm.  “Fool, you know that’s not why I am crying.  I cry all the time; it just won’t stop.”

He holds her tight and let’s the wave of sobs wrack through her little body.  Her pain is killing him and there is nothing he can do.  “Shh, shh… it’s okay, honey, I’m home now.  We got this; we got this.”

When the tears stop, she hiccups a little and reaches behind her for the bowl of frosting.  It’s hardened during the short period of time and is no longer useful.  “Well, I hope you think it looks good as is, ‘cause I can’t finish it now.”

“It’s perfect, kitten, just like you,” Chris says against her temple.  He steps back.  “I should have told you I had some time off, but it really came up quick and I wanted to surprise you.  You have other plans?  A hot date?”

Shaking her head, she wipes her nose on her sleeve.  “Just with Mom and Dad.  They wanted me to come over for dinner; he was gonna grill burgers, but I can cancel and we-”

“No, no.  Actually nothing sounds better right now than a real burger and a beer.  Why don’t you go get the shower going and I’ll give them a call and tell Mom to cook for one extra?”

He hides his concern for her, not collapsing in the kitchen chair until he hears her enter the bedroom.  Banging his fist on the table he holds in his own despair, trying to be brave for his wife.  But right now, he could really use a dose of Mom and Dad too, and his own are too far away.  He punches in the familiar number on the keypad and the Southern twang on the other end instantly brightens his mood.  “Hey, Mom.  Got room for one more at dinner?”  he asks quietly, trying to keep it together.

His mother-in-law, Anita, instantly knows his chest is tight and he’s holding in his own feelings. “Oh, Chris.  Of course.  There’s always room for one more.  Sounds like the whole gang might be here; is that too much?”

He shakes his head, digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, wishing he hadn’t given them up for Lent at his new bride’s insistence.  It’s an old habit but he really could use one now.  She’s not even Catholic, and he doesn’t practice anymore, but she’d required they both make one positive change in their lives to remember the season of rebirth.  He rolls his eyes and smiles.  “I don’t know, Mom, what do you think?  I… I came home because I may have to work hard, long hours the days right around my birthday.  I mean, they gave me time off when I needed it, but that messed up some schedules for other people and now I feel like I’m paying for it.”

“Chris, honey, you can’t control any of that.  If anything, this is just a lesson in how little control any of us really have.  The good Lord works in ways we don’t understand and-”

His gut twists and Chris interrupts.  “I really can’t over the phone, Mom.  I haven’t been home in two weeks; we had a great time when Emery was in Atlanta with me last week; but if you don’t think Em can handle the family all together, she and I can do something else for dinner tonight.”

“Nonsense, son.  I think she’ll be okay; it’ll be good for you both.  It’s actually been easier on her since she finally put it out in the open and started talking.”

“Alright, Mom.  Hey, did you know she’s been learning to bake cakes?”

“Oh, child, let’s hope this one is better than the ones a few weeks ago.  They were like lead bricks in my stomach for hours,” she teases.

Hanging up the phone, Chris turns to admire the blue cake with white stars.  He can see the red frosting mixed and hardened into a bowl and smiles at the design she must have planned.  The outer layer of frosting is tough, but stabbing the knife through it, the inside is edible and he carries the bowl and knife with him to the room.

He’s surprised to find her laying on their bed, playing with her wedding ring.

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He sucks in a breath and sits on the bed next to her.  Offering her a dab of frosting, she huffs and shakes her head ‘no.’  They sit in silence and he continues to lick the frosting from the end of the butter knife, humming his delight.  Emery stares at her ring, rolling it in her fingers, her elbow now rested on his knee.

“Chris?  Are you ever sorry we got married?”

“Oh, hell, babe.  How can you even ask that?”  Wiping his hand over his face in frustration, he then pulls his shirt out of the waist of his pants, wanting more room to move.  She continues to stare at something only she can see, avoiding his eye contact. “Emery, I know these first six months have been tougher than we thought, and we never expected any of this.  You were sick most of the winter, your grandmother’s passing and then…  Well, and then... “  His throat chokes on the words and he can’t bring himself to say them.   “It was just a lot of stress on you; on us.  But no.  I still know marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made in my whole damn life.”

Leaning forward, he places the bowl on his bedside table.  He kicks off his shoes and lays down next to her.  On his side, he watches her, thinking of the freckles on her face and how he adores them.  Her long lashes flutter closed and she rolls her head to look at him.

“What if that was our one shot?  What if something isn’t right and we can’t have kids; would you be sorry then; if I can’t give you what you want?”  Her voice shakes and he can barely hear her whispered words.

His hand takes hers and he carefully pries the ring from her grasp, sliding it back on her finger where it should always be.  Where it will always stay.  He kisses her hand gently.  “I married you for YOU, not what you can give me someday…  You know the doctors said we’re both fine.  All the antibiotics and steroids you took when you were sick; we weren’t even trying.  I mean, how often does the pill fail?”

Holding his hand tight, she scoffs.  “Are you asking for a statistical lesson?”

Placing his hand on her hip, he pulls her close.  “No, kitten, I’m just begging you not to sink into it too low.  All those medicines in your system; that baby just wasn’t a fighter like his mama.   We’ll really try again when you’re ready.  And you know if it doesn’t work, there are so many other options for kids,” he sighs.

“You’re right; I know.  It’s just…  Is it crazy to miss something the size of a peanut?  I mean, he wasn’t even kicking yet.  But he was a part of us, you know?”  Tears escape her eyes and she tries to wipe them away.

Wrapping his arms around his girl, he rolls her over on top of him, squeezing her tight, trying to hold her together.   He cradles her head to his chest as the salty tears gather on his shirt collar.  He loves that she thinks of their lost child as a him, although at only a nine weeks along, they had no way of knowing the gender.  His wife is always so strong and tough, a steel magnolia, so he finds her insecurities unsettling and struggles with his own pain and sadness at the loss.  They’ve talked about it, and therapy has been good for them both. He doesn’t want to be an ass and just tell her to ‘move on.’  He’s hoping in time this pain will be less and she’ll start to be more herself.  But time and patience is all he can give her now.

“I understand, sweetheart.  I feel the same.  Like there’s nothing to physically mourn, but there’s a whole in my chest.”

She sniffles again and he’s pretty sure she wiped her nose on his shirt.  “You know, all this has been rough.  I picked cake baking because it reminds me of something MawMaw Dalia used to always say.  She said havin’ kids was like baking cakes.  Everything has to be balanced just right for the cake to rise and not to open the oven door too much, ‘cause the cake knows what it’s supposed to do.  She said the same with kids, balance them right and they’ll grow up with what they need, and they’ll rise to do what they should.”

Chris can’t really wrap his head around the Southern analogy, so he stays quiet, simply running his fingers through her long red curls.

“So I keep baking cakes for practice and taking them to the schools where I work.  Teachers love to hear there’s food in the workroom.  And I keep telling myself our cake just wasn’t balanced this time.  I cry a lot and then I make another cake.”

“Whenever you’re ready, we can practice again, making our ‘baby cake.’  I’d really like to have lots of practice,” he laughs.  “Lots of it.”

Pulling away from him, she wipes her tear stained face for what seems like the thousandth time. Looking down into his beautiful blue eyes, she can’t help but laugh with him.   Her teary, red shot eyes rest against his suit and she cocks her eyebrow.  “Well, seeing as how you came home dressed like Steve, maybe later tonight you could convince me to help you rehearse?”

“Oh no,” he chuckles, relieved to have lifted her even just slightly from her sadness.  “Tonight, I’m having sex with my wife, if she’ll let me; not Steve.  I mean I know we like that role play every now and then, but tonight it’s just us.  After dinner with your family, of course.”

“Mr. Evans, I still didn’t get that shower.  I got lost in my thoughts.  How about you join me, and help wash all my troubles away.”

“Well, Mrs. Evans, I think that sounds like a lovely plan!  And then some of that cake?  It’s looks amazing, and I don’t think I can wait till dinner.”

Sliding down from his body and rolling off the bed, she stands and pulls her flour dusted tank top over her head, tossing it to him.  Remembering the night she first told him she loved him, a thought jumps to her mind.  “You always did want dessert first; come on.  Let’s clean up, Jelly Bean, so we can get dirty.”  She winks playfully, a lift to her spirits as she runs off to their bathroom, squealing when he finally catches up to her and spins her around in his big, strong arms.

Author’s Note: R.I.P. “MawMaw” Nadalia- March 3, 2017.  Author’s license was taken from something I once said to my husband about baking cakes and raising children, but was given here in memory of my grandmother.

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, Online Shopping

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom