rocio rulli ;; the fairy with the gift of grace (rocio) wrote in fableless, @ 2017-02-16 18:52:00
WHO: Evie Girard and Rocio Rulli WHEN: Friday evening, February 10, 2017 WHERE: Evie’s place SUMMARY: Evie and Rocio get together to talk about how their parents fucked them up over wine. It’s emotional. WARNINGS: Talk of dysfunctional families STATUS: Complete!
“I’m here, I have alcohol, and I have 4F on speed dial ready to go as soon as you tell me what you want,” Rocio announced in one go as she swept past Evie at the door, arms full of provisions for the evening, including an overnight bag, because if Rocio had anything to say about it, she wanted to wake up still drunk tomorrow morning.
She abandoned everything unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter, and immediately helped herself to Evie’s drawers, looking for a corkscrew. “So. Let’s do this.”
Evie was in no way considered a big drinker, but she was considered a common drinker. She drank a glass of wine or a beer a night when she had her daughter, and a little more when she didn’t. She hadn’t gotten drunk regularly for many, many years- since before she and Douglas had met, really. That being said, a good girls’ night at her house with Rocio … well, she didn’t think it counted on the alcoholism meter. It was so rare that to two got together in this capacity that it was considered more of a holiday as far as Evie was concerned.
She shifted quickly back into human form and pulled her clothes up around her to answer the door just in time for Rocio to breeze in. Usually when Evie was home alone she was in feline form as it was a lot more efficient, and MUCH more comfortable.
“Thank god,” she said closing the door behind Rocio, almost pleased enough that she was there to forget the stressful circumstances that had caused her to call this meeting. “What would I do without you?”
Rocio shrugged, and handed her friend a glass. “You managed over a decade without me, I’m sure you would’ve been fine.” It didn’t feel like she’d been out of town that long, though. In fact, coming back to Woodsbridge felt like she’d never left for longer than perhaps an extended vacation. Except for the part where people had been affected by weird town-wide occurrences that did everything from change their powers, change their ages, and encourage them to act more like their Tales, but. You know. Minor details. “Come on,” she patted the seat cushion on the couch, kicking off her shoes and curling her legs up next to her.
Evie essentially collapsed onto the couch next to Rocio with her glass in hand. She was being dramatic on purpose, but it really wasn’t that far off from her actual feelings.
“Well,” she began. “I suppose we should cut to the chase with the fact that my mother is a psychopath, but we both already knew that.”
She took a drink and shook her head. “I’m not SURPRISED by her behavior any more, but I still seem to continue to be able to be appalled. She bought an apartment to try to manipulate me into moving back to LA with Augustine, as if that was ever going to happen. And it was under the guise of ‘we have a place for you to stay when you visit now’ as if she doesn’t have 3 guest rooms and a pool house at the main house?”
Evie held up her hand to cut herself off from ranting further before Rocio could absorb the information.
“Sorry. I’m a little worked up about it.”
“Yup,” confirmed Rocio, nodding, and then allowed Evie to continue without further interruption, though she made sympathetic noises and made faces at all the right parts. “Don’t apologize,” was the first thing that came out of Rocio’s mouth at the pause. She deposited her glass on the coffee table so she could scoot over closer and wrap Evie’s shoulders in a hug, careful not to spill that wine, either. “You are more than welcome to rant as long as you need to, and your mother can go fuck herself for trying to pull that shit with you.” Rocio added, coming out of the hug to retrieve her own glass, but still close to offer Evie support.
The hug was welcome and Evie sighed into it, allowing herself to relax a little bit. She’d been so rigid with the amount that this had stressed her out that she hadn’t really allowed herself to breathe for a few moments. Rocio helped, helped her drag herself back to some degree of normalcy. If anyone understand it was Rocio.
“Thanks,” she said, allowing herself a moment to think and take a drink of her wine. “And you know what the worst thing is? When I called her out for being manipulative she called me ungrateful. Ungrateful, when she knows perfectly well what she was doing. And I know she knows perfectly well what she was doing because she promptly changed the subject and acted like it didn’t even happen. Classic.”
“Oh, and then of course, what’s the first thing I do when I get home but cry to Douglas as if it’s his problem anymore. That’s a bad habit, but here I am not even trying to break it.” She shook her head, irritated with herself, “he dismissed himself from that obligation a long time ago, but do you see me respecting that?”
In small, soothing circles, Rocio rubbed Evie’s back, and smiled softly at her thanks. Not that it was needed. Friends with shitty parents needed to stick together, after all. “Ugh.” She scowled, and took a sip of her wine, as well. Several sips, actually. Several long sips. Ideally, Rocio would say that she was surprised to hear about Mrs. Girard acting with such self-importance and lack of consideration for anyone else, but having known their family as long as she had, she couldn’t. “Of course she did. Because not wanting to play her games is such an inconvenience.” Sorry for being too smart to fall for your shit? You did too good a job at raising a self-sufficient, intelligent child that there’s no need for your constant hovering at thirty-something-years-old?
Rocio gave Evie an unimpressed look at that next part, though. “You’re never going to get over him if you keep doing that.”
“That’s implying that I ever have wanted to get over him in the first place, which is absolutely inaccurate. I have no desire to, and let me tell you it is just as fucked up as it sounds.”
She had set her wine glass down at this point to allow her to talk with her hands, speaking more quickly the more irritated and worked up she got.
“The issue is that I should be letting that poor man move on because the whole issue was that he wanted to get married, and I couldn’t do it because the whole concept of marrying into a functional family puts me into cold sweats because how the hell do those work? And I definitely have some issues I need to work out, but that would require me to think about them for more than 25 seconds at a time, which I am not capable of, so…” She spread her hands out in front of her, frustrated and clearly at a loss, and clearly highly frustrated by the entire ordeal.
“Oooooookay,” the brunette whistled, and reached over to gently still Evie’s hands, gesturing for her to try and relax. Which was hard, because this was Evie, and clearly the woman had a lot on her mind, from her mother, to her feelings for Douglas, and her lack of ability to deal with any of it. Still, Rocio was hardly one to talk.
But they weren’t here to talk about her. Not just yet, anyway. “Evie.” Rocio said seriously, while still holding her hands. “You are capable of talking about these things. Because you just did. With me. Like five seconds ago. I was there. And it’s not fucked up that you still have feelings for Douglas. Clearly, he still cares about you, too, or else he wouldn’t patiently try to calm you down whenever your mother sends you into a frenzy.” She let this sink in, letting go of Evie’s hands to retrieve her wine and take a hearty sip. “You’re not like her,” said Rocio, softly, but firmly, and refused to look away until Evie met her gaze and nodded that yes, she had in fact heard her say so.
Evie didn’t really speak to anyone else about her issues like she did Rocio. It wasn’t because she didn’t care about other people, or didn’t want the people she cared about to know more about her. It was because Rocio of all people understood on a fundamental level that other people could not, exactly what it was like to grow up in the kind of situation that Evie had. They had known each other for a long time, and this was not an unusual theme for either of them.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath when Rocio took her hand, biting back the flood of redundant word vomit that would have otherwise spilled out. Her deep breath ended with her picking up her glass to take a drink, but she was glad she set it back down because Rocio’s words hit her like a shock of cold water to the face.
It was an idea she’d never really thought about. Evie was notorious for brushing past and rationalizing her feelings to the extent that she willfully avoided thinking about them for too long, getting down to their underlying cause. She’d never considered that she might be afraid of becoming her mother, really. Not until that exact moment.
Her eyes were wide and she could feel hot, unexpected tears sting her eyes.
“But what if I am?” she finally managed to ask, her voice weak and tired.
Rocio shook her head fervently, and pulled Evie into another hug, because by the look on her face, Evie needed it. “No. No.”
Hugging was not something that Evie engaged in a lot these days outside of her daughter and occasionally Douglass, but it wasn’t something that she was going to turn away either. Especially under the circumstances.
It took a minute to compose herself, but after the shock of hearing her fears spoken out loud passed she returned to a state of relative normalcy.
“What if I am, though? Really, Rocio. As far as I know, my mother was a completely normal person before she married my dad. Then she got married and turned into… that. Did you know I only met my maternal grandparents twice growing up? What the hell happened to her? What if the same thing would happen to me?”
She shook her head, looking a little spooked, “It’s probably ridiculous, but just thinking about it horrifies me.”
“Because I know you.” Rocio drew back, giving Evie a serious look. “And your life is completely different from your mother’s. Not only that, but you’re aware of how she acts and you actively don’t want to be like that. Being cognizant of the fact that your mother acts intrusively is half the battle already.” She drank some more wine, drawing her knees up to her chest, cradling her phone between them, because Rocio was hungry and being emotional just made her even more hungry.
Fondly, she shook her head. “Evie. You’re not ridiculous. I’m…” Rocio hesitated, then. “I’m worried I’m like my dad too much. But you? You’re not your mom. Not even a little.”
There was a chance that wine wasn’t strong enough for this conversation, Evie decided as she finished her glass and stood to walk to the kitchen.
“Well, at least I know that there’s someone whose parents have screwed them up just as mine screwed me up. We can drink to that,” she laughed a little bitterly, but honestly it was nice to have someone who understood on such a fundamental level. Actually, it was very likely that her talks with Rocio were far more productive than with others because of that very fact. It was easier to believe someone who was also going through similar issues.
Evie came back with a bottle of bourbon and like the classy dame she was, poured some directly into her empty wine glass. She caught Rocio’s eye and grinned a little.
“Why waste dishes right? And listen, if you’re anything like your dad it’s his sparkling business sense and outward charm. You’re nothing like him otherwise or I wouldn’t be able to stand to be around you- no offense. My dad finds your dad delightful, so that’s highly questionable.”
Rocio exhaled through her nose and shook her head warily. “You’re definitely not alone there.” Not by a long shot. In fact, not that it was a contest to see who could fuck up their lives the most, but at least Evie had had a long term relationship for a little while. And didn’t have siblings to constantly compete with for attention and deal with the aftermath when your father chose you over her. Over Penny. At least Evie was loyal to her family, to the ones she loved, and all Rocio did was continue to abandon them and throw away any chance at a real relationship.
She responded by taking the bottle of bourbon and drank straight from it, because she, too, was a classy bitch. Emphasis on the bitch. “No. I am him.” Rocio said dejectedly.
Mystified, Evie wrinkled her nose at Rocio. There was no way that her father would ever drop everything to let a friend cry on their shoulder, even if alcohol was involved in the mix. It seemed utterly strange to Evie that Rocio, someone she held in such high esteem, would think she was anything like that man, but then again, Evie wasn’t really in the place to muddle through it for her own relationship with her parents- much less someone else’s.
“First of all, you are most certainly NOT him. Second of all… well, at the risk of sounding like Douglas, that’s something that I think only a professional could help you through. But for now…” Evie raised her glass. “This can be our therapy.”
“‘Kay,” she nodded, knowing that at some point she’d have to update Evie on her own family drama and inform her that yes, actually, Rocio was very much a mini-Federico in some ways, but tonight wasn’t about the Rullis. It was about the Girards. It was about Evie. And Evie had a point - she was probably better off with a licensed therapist who dealt with dysfunctional families professionally. “Food?” Prompted Rocio in a hopeful tone, and strode back over towards the couch.