Post by syrinx on Aug 29, 2008 18:10:12 GMT -5
Prudence
by Syrinx
Canon: Thoroughbred
Rating: PG
Series: Cindy Series
Note: Wow, out of nowhere I really reconnected with Cindy. Okay, honestly, the story is this: a certain notebook found its way back into my possession this week. I was flipping through it and found the first half of this story written in ink randomly in the middle of notes for grad school. It must have been one of those really boring days, is all I can say. So, the beginning of this story is circa 2004. I didn't know if it was really worth writing an ending, but I went to the trouble of writing this thing in ink, so I guess that means it was worth something. So here it is, complete. After four years. Cindy/Jack, Cindy Series, set during Top Jockey.
She started out slowly, moving her hands over the rumpled blanket that pooled over her legs and lay in a heap over her stomach. There were deep wrinkles that she ran her hands over and smoothed, the coarse material scratching at her skin. Carefully, she pushed the blanket down her legs and slid her hands back up, spreading her fingers over her abdomen.
This was being foolish, she knew. Yet, as well as she knew she would not find what she was looking for, she tried anyway. After a moment of waiting, she laughed to herself and gave up, moving her hands back down to the blanket and pulling it up over her legs and chest. She huddled under it, turning on her side to press against the pillow. She was cold, and she shivered.
Around her, the hospital room was silent and foreboding. The only spark of color was the flowers by her bedside, their pink and blue petals frayed and fragrant. They smelled like fresh cut stems in water. Ashleigh had gotten them for her, just after they had found out. However, as much as she appreciated the gesture, they only served to remind her of how clueless she was right now.
She folded her legs up to her chest and sighed, wishing her doctors would just let her go home. Lying on the flat mattress of the hospital bed, Cindy tangled the blanket around her and closed her eyes, wishing she could sleep.
It was just barely dawn. She glanced at the clock on the wall, its face glinting with the first ray of light that darted through the half-closed curtains. The clock read six-thirty. She watched the second hand tick by. Any other day she would be on the track, sitting on the back of a racehorse, flying at reckless speeds. But not today.
Out of boredom, Cindy reached out to the bedside table and picked up the few cards that sat there. They were all decorated with little fuzzy bear cubs and fluffy ducklings. She filed through them, falling on her cousin’s. She slid it out of its envelope and smiled softly at it once again. It had nothing to do with fluffy baby animals, and Cindy had to hand it to Josie. She knew her better than most.
Cindy flipped the card open and read the words inside once more.
“So I’m sure you didn’t see this happening,” went Josie’s flowing script. “Good luck, Cin. And yes, I will be a bridesmaid.”
Cindy smiled. She had not even asked anyone about being a bridesmaid, much less thought about it. At least she had one volunteer.
As she slid the small stack of cards back on the table next to her, she heard the door open and she looked up.
“How are you guys doing?” she heard Jack as he walked into the room, duffel bag in tow.
“If you keep referring to me as though I’m two people, you can have this ring back,” Cindy threatened, holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers. The diamond sparkled in the strengthening light.
He laughed and dumped the duffel at the side of the bed, wasting no time. He slid a hand into her unwashed hair and bent over her, kissing her hello. Cindy greeted him in kind, drawing closer without falling off the narrow bed.
That was when Cindy realized she hadn’t taken a shower and hadn’t brushed her teeth, so she pulled back suddenly and laughed at his expression.
“I’m kind of neglecting hygiene this morning,” she said.
“Cin, it’s six thirty,” he said.
She nodded and scooted over, patting the narrow space on the mattress. “I guess I’m not going anywhere,” she agreed as he sank down on the uncomfortable bed next to her. It was a tight fit, but Cindy didn’t care. She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone back to his hotel room the night before, and now she was curling up around him, burying her face into his shoulder just to reacquaint herself with how he felt.
He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her forehead against his chest.
“So,” she said quietly. “Are you scared out of your mind yet?”
He was quiet for a minute, his long fingers drawing lazy patterns on her back through the cotton of her shirt. She bit her lip, closing her eyes. It occurred to her that she was ridiculously afraid of his response. It was as if words could mean more than the fact that he was here, wasn’t at the track, or in California with his family, but here, with her. Still, she waited.
“Give me a few months,” he said finally. “I’m sure it will have sunk in by then.”
“That is not an answer,” she said.
He just shook his head. “No, I guess it’s not.”
She bit the inside of her cheek impatiently to keep from pushing for more. It occurred to her with a rush of panic that this was how she was going to be as a mother. She would nag and insist, and nothing would ever be good enough. Cindy struggled to swallow, feeling tears rush unbidden into her eyes at the thought that she’d be one of those parents that had bitter weariness written all over their features. She’d never wanted children, never considered them an option, and here she was on the verge of marriage and motherhood, the two rushing at her like a spark on a path to inevitable explosion.
“You need to breathe, Cindy,” Jack said quietly into her hair, his hand still and flat on her back.
She forced herself to take in air, a sob rushing out of her as she opened her mouth. He gathered her closer – impossibly close – as she pressed her face against his chest to muffle the pathetic weeping noises that Cindy was disgusted to know were coming from her.
Apologies rolled out of her before she could stop them. Litanies of sorries and curse words strung together until she told herself to stop. You are not afraid. She took a deep breath and held it until it burned. She told herself to breathe like a normal person. In and out. In and out. There, she told herself as if she’s expected she could do this on her own, it’s not that bad, is it?
“Okay,” Jack said, pushing back so he could see her. She was probably a tear-streaked mess and she suddenly was washed in embarrassment. So much for blushing bride, she thought. Can I interest you in hormonal and blotchy?
She tried to smile.
“I didn’t say the right thing,” he told her.
“What?” she asked, blinking. Her eyelashes were wet and clung together. She swiped at them with the back of her fingers, wiping the blurriness from her vision to look at Jack.
“I’m not terrified,” Jack told her. “I’m not scared or angry or even taken aback. This happened, and it may not have been planned, but since when did we ever plan anything that turned out right?”
She looked at him for a moment. A headache was forming above her eyebrows, which she furrowed together while she concentrated on him. He smiled, rubbing his thumb across her forehead.
“Cindy,” he said, cupping her face with his hand and kissing her. “Cin, this is happiness, isn’t it?”
You are an idiot, she told herself. Such an idiot.
Cindy kissed him. One kiss, two. She smiled waveringly through the blurriness that still clung to her eyes like a haze.
“God, I’ve had too long to think about this by myself,” she said, trying for a laugh that still sounded too shrill.
“I had a feeling,” he said with that half-smile that she’d come to know him by. “How do you feel about getting out of here?”
She paused. “Seriously? I can leave?”
“I ran into your doctor by the nurse’s station,” he explained. “He’ll be here in a minute to go over a few things, and then you’re free to escape.”
“In my pajamas?” she asked, looking down at herself as she sat up, pushing the blanket off her of legs.
“I rummaged through your things,” he said, getting a dubious look from Cindy. “I managed to find something clean for you to wear back to the hotel. It’s in the duffel.”
Cindy reached down to the floor and picked up the bag, opening it and finding her last pair of clean jeans and an assortment of items she’d forgotten she even owned. How was it that her life could change so drastically? She felt like a different person after only two days. After the Kentucky Derby, and Watchmaker, and Jack, and this.
She settled a hand on her stomach, and then she sighed. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“You are the best fiancé there ever was,” she said, leaning over and kissing him.
“I don’t know about that,” he said against her mouth.
“But you are,” she insisted.
“I just want to get back to New York,” he said between kisses, wrapping his arms around her back and lifting her off the bed with him, setting her down on her feet and holding her still. “Move your cute ass, Cindy.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she said, grabbing up her clothes and rushing for the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned back against it, looking up at herself in the mirror.
Across from her was an image of a young woman with tangled hair, puffy eyes, a flushed face, and swollen lips. Cindy lifted a hand to her mouth, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked deliriously happy.
This, she thought to herself. This is what you’re going to remember.
Then she set to her task, eager to go home.
by Syrinx
Canon: Thoroughbred
Rating: PG
Series: Cindy Series
Note: Wow, out of nowhere I really reconnected with Cindy. Okay, honestly, the story is this: a certain notebook found its way back into my possession this week. I was flipping through it and found the first half of this story written in ink randomly in the middle of notes for grad school. It must have been one of those really boring days, is all I can say. So, the beginning of this story is circa 2004. I didn't know if it was really worth writing an ending, but I went to the trouble of writing this thing in ink, so I guess that means it was worth something. So here it is, complete. After four years. Cindy/Jack, Cindy Series, set during Top Jockey.
She started out slowly, moving her hands over the rumpled blanket that pooled over her legs and lay in a heap over her stomach. There were deep wrinkles that she ran her hands over and smoothed, the coarse material scratching at her skin. Carefully, she pushed the blanket down her legs and slid her hands back up, spreading her fingers over her abdomen.
This was being foolish, she knew. Yet, as well as she knew she would not find what she was looking for, she tried anyway. After a moment of waiting, she laughed to herself and gave up, moving her hands back down to the blanket and pulling it up over her legs and chest. She huddled under it, turning on her side to press against the pillow. She was cold, and she shivered.
Around her, the hospital room was silent and foreboding. The only spark of color was the flowers by her bedside, their pink and blue petals frayed and fragrant. They smelled like fresh cut stems in water. Ashleigh had gotten them for her, just after they had found out. However, as much as she appreciated the gesture, they only served to remind her of how clueless she was right now.
She folded her legs up to her chest and sighed, wishing her doctors would just let her go home. Lying on the flat mattress of the hospital bed, Cindy tangled the blanket around her and closed her eyes, wishing she could sleep.
It was just barely dawn. She glanced at the clock on the wall, its face glinting with the first ray of light that darted through the half-closed curtains. The clock read six-thirty. She watched the second hand tick by. Any other day she would be on the track, sitting on the back of a racehorse, flying at reckless speeds. But not today.
Out of boredom, Cindy reached out to the bedside table and picked up the few cards that sat there. They were all decorated with little fuzzy bear cubs and fluffy ducklings. She filed through them, falling on her cousin’s. She slid it out of its envelope and smiled softly at it once again. It had nothing to do with fluffy baby animals, and Cindy had to hand it to Josie. She knew her better than most.
Cindy flipped the card open and read the words inside once more.
“So I’m sure you didn’t see this happening,” went Josie’s flowing script. “Good luck, Cin. And yes, I will be a bridesmaid.”
Cindy smiled. She had not even asked anyone about being a bridesmaid, much less thought about it. At least she had one volunteer.
As she slid the small stack of cards back on the table next to her, she heard the door open and she looked up.
“How are you guys doing?” she heard Jack as he walked into the room, duffel bag in tow.
“If you keep referring to me as though I’m two people, you can have this ring back,” Cindy threatened, holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers. The diamond sparkled in the strengthening light.
He laughed and dumped the duffel at the side of the bed, wasting no time. He slid a hand into her unwashed hair and bent over her, kissing her hello. Cindy greeted him in kind, drawing closer without falling off the narrow bed.
That was when Cindy realized she hadn’t taken a shower and hadn’t brushed her teeth, so she pulled back suddenly and laughed at his expression.
“I’m kind of neglecting hygiene this morning,” she said.
“Cin, it’s six thirty,” he said.
She nodded and scooted over, patting the narrow space on the mattress. “I guess I’m not going anywhere,” she agreed as he sank down on the uncomfortable bed next to her. It was a tight fit, but Cindy didn’t care. She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone back to his hotel room the night before, and now she was curling up around him, burying her face into his shoulder just to reacquaint herself with how he felt.
He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her forehead against his chest.
“So,” she said quietly. “Are you scared out of your mind yet?”
He was quiet for a minute, his long fingers drawing lazy patterns on her back through the cotton of her shirt. She bit her lip, closing her eyes. It occurred to her that she was ridiculously afraid of his response. It was as if words could mean more than the fact that he was here, wasn’t at the track, or in California with his family, but here, with her. Still, she waited.
“Give me a few months,” he said finally. “I’m sure it will have sunk in by then.”
“That is not an answer,” she said.
He just shook his head. “No, I guess it’s not.”
She bit the inside of her cheek impatiently to keep from pushing for more. It occurred to her with a rush of panic that this was how she was going to be as a mother. She would nag and insist, and nothing would ever be good enough. Cindy struggled to swallow, feeling tears rush unbidden into her eyes at the thought that she’d be one of those parents that had bitter weariness written all over their features. She’d never wanted children, never considered them an option, and here she was on the verge of marriage and motherhood, the two rushing at her like a spark on a path to inevitable explosion.
“You need to breathe, Cindy,” Jack said quietly into her hair, his hand still and flat on her back.
She forced herself to take in air, a sob rushing out of her as she opened her mouth. He gathered her closer – impossibly close – as she pressed her face against his chest to muffle the pathetic weeping noises that Cindy was disgusted to know were coming from her.
Apologies rolled out of her before she could stop them. Litanies of sorries and curse words strung together until she told herself to stop. You are not afraid. She took a deep breath and held it until it burned. She told herself to breathe like a normal person. In and out. In and out. There, she told herself as if she’s expected she could do this on her own, it’s not that bad, is it?
“Okay,” Jack said, pushing back so he could see her. She was probably a tear-streaked mess and she suddenly was washed in embarrassment. So much for blushing bride, she thought. Can I interest you in hormonal and blotchy?
She tried to smile.
“I didn’t say the right thing,” he told her.
“What?” she asked, blinking. Her eyelashes were wet and clung together. She swiped at them with the back of her fingers, wiping the blurriness from her vision to look at Jack.
“I’m not terrified,” Jack told her. “I’m not scared or angry or even taken aback. This happened, and it may not have been planned, but since when did we ever plan anything that turned out right?”
She looked at him for a moment. A headache was forming above her eyebrows, which she furrowed together while she concentrated on him. He smiled, rubbing his thumb across her forehead.
“Cindy,” he said, cupping her face with his hand and kissing her. “Cin, this is happiness, isn’t it?”
You are an idiot, she told herself. Such an idiot.
Cindy kissed him. One kiss, two. She smiled waveringly through the blurriness that still clung to her eyes like a haze.
“God, I’ve had too long to think about this by myself,” she said, trying for a laugh that still sounded too shrill.
“I had a feeling,” he said with that half-smile that she’d come to know him by. “How do you feel about getting out of here?”
She paused. “Seriously? I can leave?”
“I ran into your doctor by the nurse’s station,” he explained. “He’ll be here in a minute to go over a few things, and then you’re free to escape.”
“In my pajamas?” she asked, looking down at herself as she sat up, pushing the blanket off her of legs.
“I rummaged through your things,” he said, getting a dubious look from Cindy. “I managed to find something clean for you to wear back to the hotel. It’s in the duffel.”
Cindy reached down to the floor and picked up the bag, opening it and finding her last pair of clean jeans and an assortment of items she’d forgotten she even owned. How was it that her life could change so drastically? She felt like a different person after only two days. After the Kentucky Derby, and Watchmaker, and Jack, and this.
She settled a hand on her stomach, and then she sighed. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“You are the best fiancé there ever was,” she said, leaning over and kissing him.
“I don’t know about that,” he said against her mouth.
“But you are,” she insisted.
“I just want to get back to New York,” he said between kisses, wrapping his arms around her back and lifting her off the bed with him, setting her down on her feet and holding her still. “Move your cute ass, Cindy.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she said, grabbing up her clothes and rushing for the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned back against it, looking up at herself in the mirror.
Across from her was an image of a young woman with tangled hair, puffy eyes, a flushed face, and swollen lips. Cindy lifted a hand to her mouth, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked deliriously happy.
This, she thought to herself. This is what you’re going to remember.
Then she set to her task, eager to go home.
