To say she was nervous was something else. Since the adult version - or at least close to adult version - of her two year old first born turned up, Peggy hadn't truly had to play her part as a mother. She was a little disconnected from the precocious Princess of her curly haired baby and her adorable, slightly shy sweet teenager. Becoming a parent to someone older was as difficult as it had been with Stevie. You wanted them to make their own choices, learn lessons but then there was stuff like this where she had no wisdom yet. How would she tell her daughter that her father had broken their marriage vows.
Still, she figured it was better to be measured and calm and tell her the bare facts as she knew them. Peggy wouldn't let her sadness, her anger, her fear infiltrate her daughter's opinion of her father. Plus, Mousey made wonderful tea. Having put the three children down for a nap, she rubbed her eyes and made her way towards the wonderful smell of steeping leaves.
"I really had forgotten how mature you are now," she muttered, seeing the girl in the kitchen. Sometimes it was like looking in a mirror but then she smiled and it was all Steve. Sometimes her words were thicker in the Brooklyn accent than ever and she knew that was because of Bucky. This was going to be hard.