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Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year
Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,136 Views)
Verity
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The Story Girl
[ * ]
Thank you so much girls. I'm so surprised that people on this board know who Barry Manilow even is. I was feeling so damn old. :lol:

Maggie- I'm glad that you don't mind the long chapters. I was worried about that.

Vanessa- I'm stoked that you like Barry Manilow Cliff. :lol: I was afraid that everyone would think wtf???

Shayi- I understand how it is trying to keep up with reading when internet time is short. I really appreciate you doing so. I hope you get back on soon.

Maisy- I'm thrilled that you like details. Me too obviously. :dance



Chapter 109


Cliff limply shook Kerry’s hand and mumbled something that sort of resembled “nice to meet you.” To Cliff’s relief, Kerry’s attention soon wandered away from him and over to Cecily.

“Is this my little granddaughter?” she squealed, running over to Cecily. “Oh Emmy! She’s just as cute as a button! I’ve always known that she was cute from her pictures, but she looks even better in person.” She gave Cecily a hug. “I heard that you were in the hospital a few days ago. How are you feeling dear?”

“Pretty good I guess,” Cecily answered, blushing and feeling very shy due to the attention. “Thank you for asking.”

“Six years and I finally get to meet my granddaughter,” Kerry babbled on. “And I get to meet her father too,” she looked over at Cliff, who was standing quietly off to the side. She turned back to Cecily.

“That’s a cute dress that you’re wearing,” she commented. “And I love the cowboy hat with it. It’s a very nice touch indeed.”

Cecily smiled. “Thank you Miss,” she replied. “My Daddy picked it out. The dress and the hat too.”

“You can call me Kerry, or if you’re comfortable, you can call me Gran or Nana, whichever you prefer,” said Kerry kindly. She looked again over at Cliff. “I must say Mr. Burton that you’ve done well raising her. The girl is just as polite as can be.”

“Uh thanks,” Cliff answered blushing, and looking down at his shoes. “But your daughter helped. She helped me a lot.”

“You must stay for tea,” offered Kerry. “Harold and I are going to be heading off to the airport as soon as he gets home from the office to pick up some family that's coming in for the wedding. This will be the most that I get to see my only grandchild, along with her father.”

Cliff shot Emily a look. Emily just shrugged, and made her way into the kitchen to prepare the tea. Her mother followed right behind her, leaving Cliff and Cecily alone in the living room.

“Do you like Cecily?” Emily asked as she put the tea kettle on.

“She’s adorable,” her mother replied. “And her manners seem impeccable. Of course we’ll have to see how she takes her tea, but she seems very mature and well behaved.”

“She is,” Emily said proudly.

“I can tell that she adores you too Emmy,” Kerry went on. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done wonders for a girl who didn’t really have a very good mother of her own. You’ve been very good for her indeed.”

“Thank you Mum,” Emily returned blushing. “She’s a good kid.”

“Not to mention her father seems alright too,” Kerry commented as she loaded teacups and saucers onto the tea tray.

“Oh?” said a surprised Emily.

“I’ll admit to you that after hearing about all the women that he has run around with in the past, I had him pegged as a loser,” said Kerry truthfully. “A scumbag actually. A scumbag rock star with a roving eye. But in reality, he’s just a lovable jackass who needs a little direction. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Wait a minute Mum!” Emily gasped. “Are you saying that you don’t mind Cliff?”

“I was prepared to hate him,” Kerry admitted. “I know for a fact that your father probably will hate him. After all, you are a bit of a daddy’s girl, and Cliff hasn’t treated you very respectfully in the past. He’s lucky that your father is at the office right now. But for me, just by watching you and Cliff together in the living room I can see why you were so in love with him, and why it was such a hard decision for you to leave him.”

“Really?” said Emily.

Kerry nodded. “I’ve never seen any of your other suitors, not even Evan, make you smile and laugh the way that Cliff just did. You absolutely light up when you’re around him.”

She picked up the tea tray. Emily was frowning. Her mother tenderly touched her face “It’s a shame that he had to be such a skirt chaser,” she remarked. “You two with Cecily had a nice little family going. There were times when you would call me and you sounded so happy with Cliff and Cecily in San Francisco. It’s such a pity.” She turned to go out into the living room, leaving Emily in the kitchen to watch the tea kettle. She entered the room to find Cliff and Cecily arguing over what kind of cake to bake for Sir Geezer.

“Lemon cake,” said Cecily. “With raspberry filling.”

“Geezer has balls Cess,” retorted Cliff. “Lemon cake would just be wrong. Let’s make him yellow cake with peanut butter icing.”

“Gross!” Cecily yelped. “That sounds nasty Daddy.”

“It puts hair on your chest,” Cliff replied with a shrug.

“What are you two arguing over?” Kerry asked as she set the tea tray down on the coffee table, and took a seat next to Cecily on the sofa.

“Daddy and I are going to bake a cake for Sir Geezer Butler’s birthday tomorrow,” Cecily explained. “But we can’t seem to agree on what kind of cake to make for him.”

“Doesn’t Emily have a dog named Geezer?” Kerry asked. “You’re going to make a cake for your dog?”

“Geezer is my dog,” Cliff corrected. “And Geezer Butler happens to be the best bassist to ever grace not only this planet, but the universe.”

“He plays in Black Sabbath,” added Cecily. “And his birthday is tomorrow.”

“Well,” Kerry replied. “If he plays in Black Sabbath, there’s only one kind of cake that you can make for him: devil’s food cake.”

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” exclaimed Cecily as she clapped her hands. “Don’t you agree Daddy?”

“Yeah,” answered a stunned Cliff. “Actually I do.”

Wow. Emily’s mother was really fucking badass. He could see where Emily had gotten her wit and sharpness from. Too bad he had fucked everything up with Emily. He could have had a badass British mother-in-law.

Kerry offered a plate of little tea cakes and cookies to Cecily. Cliff watched as Cecily politely selected a cake.

“Its lemon cake dear,” Kerry told her. “Emmy told me that was your favorite kind, and I wanted my little granddaughter to have her favorites.”

“Thank you Nana,” replied Cecily shyly.

Cliff immediately felt guilty. It had been because of his own stubbornness that Cecily had never met her English grandparents before. Emily had wanted to take her to England many times, but Cliff would always argue “What the fuck does she need to go all the way to England for? She has American grandparents over here, my parents.” He was now feeling very bad that he had denied Cecily a chance to meet her English grandmother, who seemed to love her very much. Cliff was pulled out of his contemplating by Kerry, who stuffed the tray of cakes and cookies in his face.

“Fancy a cake or cookie darling?” she asked.

Darling, thought Cliff. The chick called me darling. I’ve been called many things, but never darling, especially by an old lady.
Cliff was about to reach for a cookie, but at the last second he opted for a mini lemon cake just like what Cecily had. He remembered her babbling to him once that at tea, it was always best to select cakes rather than cookies because they made less crumbs. Cliff didn’t want to get crumbs all over the rose chintz sofa.

“That’s a good choice,” Kerry said to him with a wink. She watched as Cliff silently ate his mini cake, trying to daintily lick icing off of his fingers. She knew that he had wronged her daughter in the past, but somewhere underneath the long hair, the tattoos, and the very ugly jacket that he was wearing, there just had to be a kind, caring, and decent person. After all, he was going to spend his evening baking a cake with his daughter.

She set the plate back down on the table. “If you two don’t mind, I think I might call Harold and tell him to go to the airport alone this evening,” she said carefully. “I wouldn’t mind helping out with Mr. Butler’s cake. I’d love to bake a cake with my granddaughter.”

“Uh okay,” Cliff mumbled. “I guess that I should get going now.” He stood up off of the sofa.

“Oh no!” Kerry cried, grabbing his arm. “You sit right there darling. I didn’t mean that I’d bake the cake with Cecily alone. I want to help the both of you bake the cake.”

“You want me stay?” Cliff asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Kerry replied. “You love and care about my little granddaughter. You’re always welcome here. The next time that band that Emmy says that you manage comes to tour in England, you tell them that they are more than welcome to crash here if they need to.”

“I really appreciate that Ma’am,” Cliff answered. “But if you had Gastropod stay here, even if it were just for one night, you’d wind up having to replace all of the carpet, some of the wallpaper, and even the toilets after they leave. Hell, you’d probably need to have the place disinfected by professionals, and that’s if they didn’t wind up burning it down.”

“Please darling,” said Kerry. “Don’t call me Ma’am. Call me Kerry.” She stood up from her chair. “We can take our tea in the kitchen while we work on Mr. Butler’s cake. Emmy has to get ready for her date with Evan anyway.”

Cliff had near forgotten all about Evan’s romantic dinner plans. I can’t believe that he’s dragging her out tonight, he thought bitterly as he followed Kerry into the kitchen. She’s getting married tomorrow. She needs her rest.

They found Emily in the kitchen furiously polishing away at the silver. She was so fucking confused at the moment, and she wasn’t quite sure why. For some random reason, polishing the silver seemed to calm down her nerves. At least it was something productive.

“Emmy darling!” Kerry exclaimed. “A bride-to-be does not spend the day before her wedding polishing the silver.”

“But Aunt Martha and Uncle Fritz are coming in tonight,” Emily returned. “I want to help.”

“Don’t be silly,” her mother scolded. “I can polish the silver tonight while Mr. Butler’s cake is baking.”

“Mr. Butler’s cake?” Emily repeated.

“I’m going to help Cliff and Cecily bake a cake for Geezer Butler tonight,” her mother replied.

“Oh,” murmured a very surprised Emily. Baking a cake for Geezer Butler was fucked up enough, but having her own mother help her ex boyfriend bake that cake was even stranger.

“Besides,” her mother went on. “Someone has a fabulous date tonight at The Ivy restaurant. Don’t they?”

Emily nodded.

“Why don’t you go get ready dear?” said her mother.

“Yes Mum,” replied Emily.

“I’ll polish the silver,” Cliff volunteered. “My mom is always making me do shit like that whenever I’m at home.”

He took off his prized, suede, fringy jacket, revealing a Black Sabbath tank top that was so worn and faded that you could hardly even tell that it had been a Black Sabbath shirt at some point. He plopped down at the table and resumed polishing the silver right where Emily had left off. She stood there watching him.

“Emmy dear,” Kerry said again. “Evan is going to be here in twenty minutes. You need to get ready to go. As much as I love your new outfit, I don’t think it’s within The Ivy’s dress code. What band shirt is that again? The Midgets?”

“Misfits,” Emily corrected softly.

“The Midgets?” Cliff snorted as he polished a silver gravy boat. “That’s a good one. Glen Danzig is kind of short you know?”

“He is not Daddy!” Cecily retorted. “He’s taller than me.”

“Everyone is taller than you Cess,” Cliff laughed. “Shrimpy Cecily.”

Cecily was about to tell him to fuck off, but she remembered that she was in the presence of her grandmother. She frowned at him instead.

“Don’t frown at me Angelfuck,” Cliff teased. “Smile. Come on.”

“No,” shot Cecily, still frowning.

“Please Angelfuck?” Cliff pleaded. “Smile for your dad. Do it for me.”

Cecily smiled, and Cliff reached out and pulled her close to him. He began tickling her, sending Cecily into giggles.

“Emmy,” Kerry said once again. “You must get dressed for your date. Evan will be here very soon.”

“Yeah Mum,” Emily mumbled again. She turned to leave the room, but stopped in the kitchen doorway one last time to look at crazy Cliff and Cecily before she went upstairs to change her clothes. They were now jabbering about what kind of icing to use on Sir Geezer’s devil’s food cake.

“We have to make iced flowers on it,” said Cecily.

“Absolutely not! Why don’t we just cut off Sir Geezer’s balls right now Cess,” snapped Cliff.

Emily didn’t know what her problem was. She was going out on a romantic date with a sweet and wonderful man to one of London’s finest restaurants, but for some reason she’d much rather stay at home and help bake a cake for Sir Geezer Butler. What the hell was the matter with her?
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maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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good great good
I would say more but Lunesta (lseeping pill) kicked in. I don't know why I'm still up at 2am. :nanner: :nanner: :nanner: :nanner: :nanner:
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Lucifer's Angel
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Kerry is so cool! She wants to help them back a cake for Geezer Butler :lol: Badass! Hmm, is Emily having second thoughts? Don't blame her, and Cliff actually gets along with her mother :o He was right about Gastropod, though, I don't think she would like them very much :lol:
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maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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:blush: Sorry about my BIZZAR-O comments last night. I was zonked!! :blush:
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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A bit more before I go back and practice some more. :P



Chapter 110


“Even when she was my age Mom was so pretty,” Cecily commented as she slowly leafed through the photo album that Kerry had given her to look at. “She’s even prettier now, but even with brown hair and braces she was still absolutely beautiful. I look horrid with my braces,” Cecily rambled on. “I look bad without them too. I’m not beautiful like Mom.”

“Cecily Burton you are a very pretty girl,” Kerry told her, placing her hands on her hips.

“No I’m not,” said Cecily. “But perhaps someday if I’m a good girl, God will make me beautiful when I grow up. I pray for that every night before I go to bed.”

“Cecily!” Cliff scolded from where he was polishing a fine, silver, coffeepot. “You’re going to go straight to hell talking that way.”

“Like you’re not Daddy,” Cecily shot back.

Cliff scowled, flipped her off, and went back to his polishing.

“Emmy was the same way when she was your age Cecily,” said Kerry as she started to get together the ingredients for Geezer’s cake. “She constantly complained about the way that she looked. She was either too short, or her bum was too big, or she didn’t like her nose, or her hair was too dull. This one time she had to be around fourteen or fifteen, she decided to take it upon herself to dye her own hair.”

“Emily was always fucking around with her hair color,” put in Cliff as he examined the coffeepot that he was devoutly polishing. He frowned upon seeing a spot that he had missed on it.

“Well this had to be the first time that she ever tried dying her hair,” Kerry went on. “Her and her friend had bought some dye off of some street vendor, and they decided to try it when Harold and I weren’t at home.”

“This can’t be good,” said Cliff.

Kerry shook her head. “It wasn’t,” she replied. “We came home to find Emmy locked up in her room. She was crying like a cat being skinned, and she wouldn’t come out. Finally I went in there and found her huddled up underneath her bed covers. It turns out that the dye did indeed work. It just turned her hair completely green in the process.”

“Green?” Cecily repeated, her eyes going wide.

“Yes Ma’am,” Kerry nodded. “It was a disgusting shade of pea green, and it wasn’t just the tips of her hair that had changed to that color. Even near the roots of her hair had been dyed. She was completely devastated. I couldn’t even get her to go to school for two days after that.”

“Poor, poor, Mom,” Cecily breathed. “She has such pretty hair too. Why on earth did she think that she had to dye it?”

“For the same reason that you piss and moan about the way you look,” Cliff shot.

“She had to get her hair cropped really short,” said Kerry. “I remember taking her to the salon to get it cut, and the entire time Emmy was sitting in the chair just sobbing. I think she did gain a very good lesson about vanity out of the ordeal.”

Kerry leaned over Cecily and picked up the photo album. She flipped forward a few pages. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed. “Here she is with her short hair. She hated it so much.”

Cecily and even Cliff got up from his chair to check out a teenage Emily with her hair singed off. Cecily was quite shocked. Emily had always had long hair, and she couldn’t imagine it any other way. In the photo Emily’s hair was completely short, like a boy’s, however you could still see the natural wave that she had in it. Cliff broke out into a huge smile.

“Aw,” he said. “She still looks pretty. I still wouldn’t have kicked her out of bed.”

“Clifford Lee!” Kerry scolded.

Cliff turned red. “Sorry,” he replied, still looking at the picture. “She’s still really pretty. She has a pretty face, and her ears don’t stick out. She can pull off the short hair. But I’m sure going to have a good time teasing her over this one.”

“She looks better than you do with short hair Daddy,” said Cecily.

“Like you’ve seen a picture of me with short hair,” Cliff laughed.

“Aunt Jo showed me one,” Cecily said with a nod. “You were like six, and you’re standing on a dock holding a big fish.”

“Fuck,” Cliff answered. “I thought that I had burned all pictures of me with short hair. I’m going to have to swipe it from Aunt Jo next time that I’m at her place.”

“You look funny with short hair,” laughed Cecily.

“Well you look funny with braces… metal mouth!” Cliff shot back.

“But,” Cecily added with a smile. “You do look rather dashing and handsome with your long hair.”

“You think so Princess?” Cliff asked. He glanced at his reflection in the silver coffeepot that he had been polishing. He tossed his long mass of reddish brown hair over his shoulder. “I know that Maggie seems to think so,” he commented as he tossed it over his shoulder once again.

“Speaking of dashing and handsome,” spoke Kerry as she got out a mixing bowl. “Evan just pulled up out front. He’s such a cutie.” She wiped off her hands, and then hurriedly made her way to the front of the house to get the door.

“I’m Evan Fitz-ass-wipe,” Cliff mimicked to Cecily in a terrible British accent. “My mother is an old, evil, liver cunt, who looks like an old, wet, sow’s teat.”

Cecily burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Evan asked as he and Kerry came into the kitchen. Evan was dressed in a very dapper three piece suit. His shirt was the color of a Montana sky on a crystal clear summer afternoon, and he wore a trendy silk tie that was hues of blue and silver. The blue really brought out the blueness of his eyes. Even his shoes were polished so that they shone. They shone almost as nicely as the silver that Cliff had been so diligently polishing. A silky, shimmery, royal blue pocket scarf was neatly folded in the lapel of his suit jacket.

“Never mind,” Cliff answered as he took in Evan’s appearance. He immediately felt dirty, grungy, and frumpy next to Evan Fitzgerald. After all his bellbottoms were tattered, his tank top rather faded, his hair un-brushed, and he had silver polish smeared on his cheek, and all over his hands.

“I like your pocket scarf Mr. Evan,” Cecily commented.

“Why thank you,” Evan answered. “Kirk actually gave it to me. He says that a true gentleman never leaves home without one.”

“You do know that this is coming from someone who really, honest-to-God believes that there is a Santa Claus?” said Cliff.

Evan was about to say something, but he went speechless. Actually, everybody did. Emily had appeared in the kitchen. She had changed out of Cheyenne’s jeans and Cliff’s T shirt and into a jazzy, little, red number with a flouncy and swishy skirt. The straps to the dress actually tied behind her neck in a halter style. She had playfully piled her hair up and away from her face. Evan and Cliff were both staring at her. Finally Cecily broke the silence.

“Dad is right,” she remarked. “You do have nice ears.”

“What about my ears?” Emily asked.

“Never mind,” replied Cecily. “You look beautiful Mom.”

“She does,” Evan said with a nod. “You look gorgeous dearest.” He held out his arm to her.

“Thank you,” Emily replied as she took his arm.

“Shall we proceed?” Evan asked. “Your chariot awaits my dear.”

They watched as Evan and Emily made their way out the front door, and out to Evan’s Audi.

“He is such a dreamboat,” Kerry sighed as she watched them from the window in the living room, her voice drifting back to the kitchen where Cliff and Cecily were. “I can’t believe that tomorrow at this time my daughter will be his wife,” she commented. “She’s finally found a man to love, protect her, and keep her safe, the way that she deserves. My daughter deserves the sun, the moon, and the stars, and she’s found someone who will finally give it to her.”

Cliff glumly went back to polishing his coffeepot as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet. Cecily was sitting right next to him, and she could tell that her dad was not very happy at the moment. No fucking coffeepot was that interesting anyway.

“I’m very happy for her,” Kerry sighed as she came back into the kitchen. “Emmy has been waiting for this day for so long. Ever since Curtis left her at the alter eight years ago.”

Cliff didn’t look up from the coffeepot, but he was very much listening. He knew that some dude had broken Emily’s heart and had left her at the alter years ago to go back to his ex wife, but Emily had never mentioned his name, and rarely ever spoke of him.

“I never liked Curtis anyway,” Kerry went on as she watched Cliff polish the living fuck out of the coffeepot. “He was an arrogant and pompous ass. Harold just despises him. He actually committed suicide six years ago. He put a bullet in his head. It’s a good thing too, or else Harold might have done it himself. He’s very protective of his daughter.”

“He’s probably going to put a bullet in my head once he comes home from the airport,” Cliff mumbled, without looking up from the coffeepot.

“I’m not going to lie to you Clifford,” replied Kerry evenly. “You’re not high on Harold’s list of favorite people right now. I think as a father to an only daughter yourself, you can understand how he feels.”

“I do,” Cliff admitted, still looking down at the coffeepot. “I guess I should leave before I wear out my welcome here.”

“But what about Sir Geezer’s cake?” asked Cecily. “We haven’t even started on it yet.”

“You have your English grandmother to bake Sir Geezer’s cake with,” replied Cliff.

“But it’s not the same without you Daddy,” Cecily whined.

“I’m sorry Angelfuck,” Cliff said with a sigh as he stood up. “But I really shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Horse feathers!” exclaimed Kerry. “You just sit right back down again Mr. Burton. You’re not going anywhere. You are going to bake a cake with your little daughter.”

“What about Harold?” Cliff stammered, as he limply melted down into the chair again, as if he were a snowman melting in the sun.

“Don’t worry about him,” Kerry mused. “I mean, aren’t you some high and mighty heavy metal musician? You’re not actually going to let some goofy, old, sod scare you away from spending an evening with your daughter? Are you?”

“With all due respect Miss,” said Cliff. “You even said yourself that the dude hates me, and rightfully so. I don’t blame him. I was young, stupid, and immature, too immature actually. I was too immature to realize what I had… I was a fucking idiot. I don’t deserve to ever find happiness in love like Emily eventually did. I had it and I let it all go…. I threw it away.”

Kerry and Cecily silently watched as Cliff went back to polishing the coffeepot which by now, had to be the shiniest coffeepot this side of the Atlantic. Cecily looked over at her grandmother. Her lips were pressed into a very thin and grave looking line, a rather solemn expression, as she watched Cliff work. Cecily knew that they were thinking the same exact thing. No matter how many times that Cliff had tried to deny it, anyone could see that he was still hopelessly in love with Emily, a woman that no longer belonged to him, a woman that he could no longer have. Cecily had bent over backwards trying to get the two hopeless love birds back together (as you all can attest to) again, but it was no use. Things had gone just too far. Other people were involved now. Cliff had lost.

Finally, Kerry let out a sigh. “This has turned out to be quite the headache,” she murmured very softly, but Cecily had heard it.

Kerry turned to Cliff. “Don’t worry about what Harold thinks,” she said. “I’ll take care of him.”

“He probably thinks that I’m lower than the shit that comes out of a crack whore’s ass,” Cliff quipped as he furiously scrubbed at the coffeepot.

Kerry couldn’t help but smile at Cliff’s colorful use of the English language. “Not a crack whore’s shit,” she amusedly replied. “But maybe just a plain and normal whore’s shit. One thing that I do know for sure,” she went on as she grabbed the coffeepot out of Cliff’s hands, rescuing it. “Is that Harold is certainly not going to mind drinking coffee from such an impeccably shiny pot…”
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maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Excellent backstory and character building chapter. Loved it.

I loved Emily's red dress. And Evan's suit. Now we need to get Cecily in some stuff from those Japanese websites and we are set :)

Can't wait to see what happens when Harold gets home!
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Lucifer's Angel
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Ooh, Cliff is in trouble :wink That actually happened to my cousin, she tried to die her hair red, but it came out green and she had to cut it all off, and she had nice brown hair too :( And Cliff with short hair sounded cute :heart: , poor Aunt Jo :lol: I hope Harold doesn't kill him, and it looks like Kerry and Cliff are getting along just well. And he really loves her, I hope he does a Graduate, where the main character bursts into the church and carries away his girlfriend from her fiance :heart:
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Battery
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“Why thank you,” Evan answered. “Kirk actually gave it to me. He says that a true gentleman never leaves home without one.”

“You do know that this is coming from someone who really, honest-to-God believes that there is a Santa Claus?” said Cliff." :lol: :lol: :horns2

Kerry rocks!!! She's the coolest mum ever, and she does like Cliff, that kicks ass. :biggrin
And I feel so sorry for both Cliff and Emily :( I don't blame her for being so confused :( And Cliff... Poor guy :( (but indeed, I definitely think he looks dashing and handsome with long hair. Thank you so much :heart: !!! Seriously I almost fell of my chair :lol: )
Aaah... I really wonder where it's all going, and I can't wait to see!!! :heart: Totally awesome chapters!!! :biggrin
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Vanessa- I have got to see this Graduate movie.

Maisy- I tried to sort of make Emily's dress a style from one of those Japanese websites. Cecily should tell Cliff to buy her a dress. :lol:

Maggie- I have such a good time with hair flipping. :)



This is another chapter of silliness. I don't know why I'm being so silly lately. :P I have a hard time keeping my thoughts on track. :wacko:




Chapter 111


“Let’s drip red icing all over it,” said Cliff as he watched Kerry carefully slather chocolate frosting all over Geezer’s cake.

“That sounds gross,” remarked Cecily.

“It will look like blood,” Cliff argued.

“I think that we should use pink icing on the trim,” Cecily said importantly.

“Newsflash!” snapped Cliff. “We’re making a cake for Black Sabbath’s bassist, not for the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

“Daddy,” Cecily said sweetly. “You have icing on your face.”

“Oh fuck. I do?” he murmured, as he tried to unsuccessfully wipe it off.

Cecily reached up with a paper towel and wiped the icing off of his face. Her dad could be so damn messy at times. “There,” she said once she had finished. “That’s better.”

“Thank you Cess,” Cliff replied. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Is it true that Mr. Kirk really fucked the Sugar Plum Fairy?” Cecily asked as she sat down at the kitchen table, propped up her elbows, and rested her chin in her hands.

“Hey!” Cliff scolded. “Watch the rough language!” He gestured towards Kerry, who seemed to be the only one who was actually working on Sir Geezer’s cake. “I know that your American grandmother doesn’t care about you talking about banging the Sugar Plum Fairy, but your English one does. We are in the presence of a lady,” he scolded.

“Actually, I’m quite interested,” piped up Kerry. “Kirk is such a sweetheart. He looks like a little porcelain doll that’s come to life. But how on earth did he manage to land the Sugar Plum Fairy?”

“It was fucking Bob Rock,” said Cliff as he stuck a finger into the icing bowl, and helped him self to a dollop of icing. “He wanted to make us into these mainstream, MTV, mass media darlings, and to do that he decided that we needed some more culture. He bought us tickets to the symphony, the opera, and to the ballet. The symphony tickets were pretty fucking badass. We got to sit in the box seats and they did The 1812 Overture with full chorus, and cannons, and all sorts of other bullshit. It was the epitome of badassness.”

“The symphony was boring,” whined Cecily.

“That’s because you have no soul Cecily,” Cliff retorted. “I’ll tell you what was boring,” he went on. “The cock sucking ballet. Oh my God! I thought that I’d had died and gone to hell. Anyway, because he’s so fucking important, Bobby Rock got us backstage passes to meet the dancers afterwards, and Kirk got it on with the Sugar Plum Fairy. So did James. So did Lars.”

“The Sugar Plum Slut sounds like a better name for her,” Kerry commented.

“Did you get it on with the Sugar Plum Fairy too Daddy?” Cecily asked.

“Nah,” said Cliff. “But I did do the concertmistress from the symphony. I was a little bit too rough with her though. It’s too bad because she could have given you your violin lessons Cess.”

“Great,” Cecily groaned. “I hope that there’s a violinist in town that you haven’t slept with.”

“We’ll find you a nice Russian dude,” said Cliff as he tugged on one of Cecily’s bouncy curls, causing it to spring up and down. “A nice, Russian, dude with a stick, so that he can beat the shit out of you when you don’t practice.”

“You two are crazy,” Kerry laughed. “But I must ask you Cliff, didn’t you leave the band when Bob Rock came onboard.”

Cliff nodded. “I stuck around for a little while,” he admitted. “But then he decided to cut this massive, monumental, totally kick ass, forty-five minute bass solo concerto that I had written from the album.”

“Daddy was shut up in his studio for months writing it,” reported Cecily.

“I didn’t write it Cecily, I composed it,” Cliff corrected as he again swiped some icing from the mixing bowl. “I was like Beethoven writing his ninth symphony, or Mozart composing his final requiem. I spent hours upon hours writing it, and nearly went mad in the process.”

“Nearly?” said Cecily.

Cliff rolled his eyes at her and flipped her off. “It was supposed to be “bass concerto take one,” since I had recorded right on down just perfectly,” he reminisced. “I had even written it in three movements, with tutti sections for James, Lars, and Kirk to accompany me. They were cool with putting it on the album. By that point, I had had those fuckers whipped. They gave me complete free artistic reign, but then that douche-weasel Bob Rock came in and ruined it all.”

“Why on earth didn’t he let you record your song?” Kerry asked.

“It’s not a song, it’s a bass concerto,” corrected Cliff. He sighed. “The fucker called me into this little office at the recording studio, so that he could have a “word” with me privately. He told me that a bass concerto most certainly did not belong on a radio friendly heavy metal album, and that he was scrapping it. My masterpiece he was scrapping! I was completely outraged! I told him to go blow himself, and then to go fuck his sister, and well you know the rest.”

Kerry could tell that Cliff was very upset, his blood near boiling over the memory of Bob Rock cutting his precious bass concerto. She went over to the fridge, and took out a beer. Kerry remembered Emily telling her that Cliff loved beer. All beer.

“Did you ever find another band to record your bass concerto with?” she asked as she popped off the bottle cap, and set the beer bottle in front of him.

Cliff shook his head. “Unfortunately not,” he answered. “I got too busy with other things. I got into producing, and you wouldn’t believe how many more responsibilities I have as a producer, rather than as a bassist.”

“Have Gastropod’s bassist play it,” suggested Cecily.

“He couldn’t play it,” Cliff laughed. “I mean he has the chops for it, but I can barely get him through a five minute song without pissing himself on stage, let alone a forty-five minute concerto.” He sighed wistfully as he took a swig of beer, the icy liquid trickling like a waterfall down his throat. “Since I’m going back to school, I’m sure that they’ll make me do a recital,” he went on. “Maybe I can play it then. My dream though is to someday get to record it. I want that more than anything in the world.”

“I just know that someday you’ll do that,” said Kerry confidently. “You’ll achieve your dream.”

“You think?” Cliff asked, finishing off his beer.

“I can feel it in my bones,” Kerry replied as she got up to get him another one. Just then, they heard a car door slam. “That must be Harold back with Aunt Martha and Uncle Fritz,” Kerry announced.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Cecily. “What if Mom’s aunt and uncle don’t like me?”

“Forget about you Cess,” said Cliff. “I’m the one who’s fucked.”

“Just refrain from the dirty language while they’re here,” Kerry warned. “Aunt Martha is into reading Christian novels.” She hurried out of the room.

“Shit,” Cliff murmured to Cecily. “Do they really make such things as Christian novels?”

“Apparently,” answered Cecily nervously. She was always so shy around new people, and she was very happy to have her Daddy to hide behind.

Uncle Fritz entered the kitchen first. He was a pudgy older man with glasses, sandy colored balding hair, a very, very, bad comb over, and a rather reddish, acne scarred, face.

“Hello, hello!” he said cheerfully. He looked straight at Cliff, who was quite the sight in his ripped jeans, faded tank top with icing dripped on it, and silver polish smeared all over his hands. “You must be the lucky man,” said Uncle Fritz as he held out his hand to Cliff.

“Lucky man?” Cliff repeated, confused.

“That’s a good one!” Uncle Fritz laughed. “I know that our Emily is a spitfire, quite the handful.” He put his arm around Cliff. “So Evan,” he went on. “Are you ready for your big day tomorrow?”

Cliff’s mouth formed a big “O” when he realized what had happened. It occurred to him that Uncle Fritz had probably never met or seen Evan before. He was just about to say something when Aunt Martha came into the room. She stared right at Cliff. An instant frown formed upon her face.

“I thought that Kerry said that he was quite handsome?” she mused aloud. “What on earth happened to him then?”

“I’m not Evan,” Cliff started to say, but nobody listened.

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Martha stated as she stood in front of Cliff and looked him up and down. “I thought that your family is one of the wealthiest in London! Can’t you afford new clothes? A haircut? You’re not meeting your bride at the altar with all that long hair are you?”

“Uh no,” stammered Cliff, his cheeks flushing pink. “Actually, I’m not meeting any-”

“Don’t mumble when you speak to me boy!” interrupted Aunt Martha. “I can’t believe that Emily let’s you go around looking like a ragpicker’s child!”

“That’s enough Martha!” Fritz cut in. “He’s probably just busy with the wedding tomorrow, and he didn’t have time to shower this morning.”

“But I did shower,” Cliff protested. “Do I smell that bad?”

“You do,” Fritz replied jovially with a laugh. “But we love you anyway.” He put his arm around Cliff and ruffled his hair. “Welcome to the family Mr. Fitzgerald!”

Damn, thought Cliff. Is it this annoying to Cecily when I ruffle up her hair?

“I think that we need to propose a toast,” said Fritz as he took a beer for himself and one for Cliff out of the fridge. He popped open his beer and raised the bottle in the air. “To Evan Fitzgerald!” he proposed.

“But I’m not Evan Fitzgerald!” Cliff barked.

“You’re not?” asked Fritz, confused.

“No,” replied Cliff. “But I will take a beer.” He happily grabbed the other beer out of Fritz’s hand.

“I knew he was the hired help,” Aunt Martha scoffed. “He’s sure dressed like it.”

“Hey!” Cliff shot, immediately on the defensive. “I am not the fucking hired help! Don’t judge people by their outward appearances!”

“Then what are you doing here?” Martha snapped. “Who are you?”

“He’s the bum loser that broke my daughter’s heart!” shot Harold as he entered the room with Kerry right behind him.

“Harold!” Kerry scolded.

“No!” Harold said to her firmly. “This jerk hurt our daughter, and I’m not going to tolerate him sitting in my house, drinking my beer! I’m going to throw him out of here, but first I want to give him a piece of my mind!”

Harold was tall, with graying hair that was jut ever-so-slightly on the shaggy side. He was just starting to get an old man belly. It protruded out from under his gray polo shirt. He wore black pants, and a small gold chain was delicately draped around his neck. Bob Rock always wore a thin gold chain around his neck just like Harold’s, and Cliff had always hated it. He was chewing on a piece of spearmint gum, intense hatred for Cliff just reeking from his hazel eyes.

“I have no idea what the heck my daughter ever saw in you!” Harold spat, loudly chomping on his gum like a llama. “You must have given her some really good drugs, or there’s an extreme deficit of eligible men in the United States. My daughter deserves so much better than you! You’re not even fit to clean dog shit off of her shoes.”

“I know,” murmured Cliff, but it went unnoticed.

“You have no idea how to treat women!” Harold ranted on. “Maybe it’s because until you met my Emily, you had never been with a decent, respectable, woman before! My daughter is not some groupie tramp that you can cast away like a cigarette butt! She’s way above your league, and until you learn how to treat a woman with respect, she’ll always be way too good for you.”

“Yes sir,” mumbled Cliff, looking down at the floor.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Harold demanded.

Cliff was silent. Actually, everybody was silent. The only sound came from Harold, chomping on his gum.

“I’m sorry,” said Cliff quietly, his face and entire body growing hot.

“Sorry!” Harold shrieked, his voice raising an octave. “You tear my only daughter’s heart out, and all that you can say is sorry?”

“Well what do you want me to fucking say?” shot Cliff.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take my shotgun to you,” sneered Harold.

“Because he’s my Daddy!” piped up Cecily from where she had been hiding over in the corner. She ran over to Cliff and threw her arms around his waist. Harold hadn’t even noticed the girl sitting over in the corner. Upon seeing his granddaughter for the very first time, his eyes grew wide, but the hatred that had been in them immediately turned into love.

“And even though he’s messy and he smells bad, he’s still the best dad in the whole, entire, world!” she added as she held onto him tightly.

“Thanks Cess. You’re a real sweetheart,” Cliff mumbled, his mouth going dry. He put a hand on her shoulder, using Cecily for courage. He was going to need all of it that he could get…
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Lucifer's Angel
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That was funny, Harold wanting to welcome him to the family, and then wanting to beat the shit out of him :lol: And that cake sounded delicious, that bass concerto sounds interesting, I'm not into instrumental music unless it's classical or stuff like Rush :blush: Uh oh, Cliff is in big trouble :P
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maisy blue
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He was just about to say something when Aunt Martha came into the room. She stared right at Cliff. An instant frown formed upon her face.

“I thought that Kerry said that he was quite handsome?” she mused aloud. “What on earth happened to him then?”


BAHahahahahaha :lol: :lol: Old people are like little kids- whatever they think just comes flying out of their mouth- no filter.

And I continue to love the trashing of Bob Rock. heh

Good stuff- I like these little detail chapters. As always, your writing is impeccable.

MORE SOON PLEASE!!

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Hahaha, rocking chapter! :biggrin
The whole scene with Aunt Martha and Uncle Fritz was hilarious :lol: Poor, poor Cliff.... And Harold chomping on gum like a llama :lol:
"Cliff was silent. Actually, everybody was silent. The only sound came from Harold, chomping on his gum." :lol: :lol:
And that what Cecily did at the end was sooo sweet and moving :biggrin And I'm not surprised Harold loved her immediately :horns2 Maybe he'll be able to like Cliff too?
:heart:
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Here's some more for ya :dance




Chapter 112



Meanwhile, on the other side of London, Evan and Emily were sitting at a table for two in the corner of a very busy restaurant. The Ivy was always bustling with activity, and reservations usually had to be made months in advance. Evan had used his Fitzgerald clout to snag him a table for his truelove on short notice. He ordered them a bottle of Cristal champagne which the wine steward a happy Austrian dude named Thomas, cheerfully brought over to them. He poured a sampling of it into Evan’s champagne flute.

“Is it to your liking sir?” he asked.

Evan handed the glass to Emily. “Let’s have the lady give it a try,” he said. “Tonight is her night.”

Emily reluctantly took the champagne glass. After spending all of yesterday in a drunken stupor with her ex, the last thing that she wanted to do was drink again. But Evan was being sweet and thoughtful. He had had a giant bouquet of fabulous roses sitting on their table waiting for her, and he had ordered the very best champagne known to man kind. She gave it a sip. “It’s delicious,” she commented as Thomas went ahead and filled their glasses.

“I tried and tried but I couldn’t get Mum to change the head table situation,” Evan said once they were alone again. “I’m sorry dearest. I know how much it meant to you to be able to eat with our families.”

“Yeah well, nothing that I have to say seems to matter when it comes to your mum,” Emily quipped.

“I promise that I’ll make it all up to you Emily,” Evan replied. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make what my mum has put you through all worth it.”

“I appreciate that Evan,” said Emily softly.

Evan frowned. Here he was trying to apologize for his busy-ass mother because he loved and adored Emily, and he wanted her to be happy. Instead, she was acting as if they were at a mere business dinner. She had been quite out-of-sorts the entire evening. Perhaps it was just frustration over the wedding, and the pre wedding jitters that everyone always yapped about. He reached over the candlelit table and took her hand.

“You look radiant tonight darling,” he said sincerely. “I like that red dress. Is it new?”

Emily shook her head.

Evan raised his eyebrows. He always tried to remember and comment on Emily’s clothes because she always seemed to like it whenever he noticed what she wore, or if she had changed her appearance in any way. He remembered her telling him once that she had went from being a mahogany brunette, to a silvery blonde overnight without Cliff even noticing until two weeks later. Evan never wanted to be that inattentive to his wife.

“I don’t remember ever seeing it,” he commented.

“I’ve never worn it around you,” Emily said with a shrug. She took a sip of champagne, so much for not drinking tonight. She wondered what Cliff and Cecily were doing. How had Geezer’s cake turn out?

“I only wore it tonight because I actually don’t have very many dresses at my parents’ house. They’re all at home,” she said finally.

“Well I’m very happy that you chose to wear it,” Evan replied. “It looks great on you. I actually can’t believe that you’ve never worn it for me before.”

Emily just stared down at the dancing bubbles that were floating about in her champagne glass as if they didn’t have a care in the world. She wished that she could be one of those bubbles right now.

“Where did you get it?” Evan asked.

“What are you?” Emily asked. “Kirk? You need to buy yourself a dress? What’s it matter to you where I got it?”

He knew that she was just being a smartass, but Evan didn’t understand why she was choosing tonight to be such a bitch about things.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered as he looked away from her. “I just wanted to know which boutiques you like to shop at for future reference. Maybe I’d buy you another dress from there.”

“Oh,” said Emily, blushing. She felt like an idiot, but she had her reasons.

“So if I may ask, where did you get it?” Evan pressed again.

Emily took another gulp of champagne. “San Francisco,” she answered. “Cliff bought me this dress.”

Now Evan had wished that he had just shut his mouth, and not pressed the dress question. “Cliff bought you that dress?” he asked.

“That’s why I didn’t move it to our house with all of my other dresses,” Emily replied with a shrug. She had kept many of the little things that Cliff had given her stashed away in her closet at her parents’ place. Except for that one pair of earrings, she didn’t wear any of the stuff that he had bought for her, but that evening she had found herself in quite the predicament, because she didn’t have any other dresses at her parents’ house. She had no choice but to wear a “Cliff” dress. That particular red dress had always been one of her favorites. She had seen it in the window at a department store while walking by with Cliff, and had mentioned that she rather liked it. Two days later Cliff had gotten wickedly wasted with James while fishing. On his way home from his fishing expedition, he had stopped by the department store and had bought the dress. He came home and handed it to her, still wrapped up in its shopping bag right before he passed out onto the floor.

Evan wasn’t quite sure what to say. His romantic evening with his bride-to-be wasn’t going as he had planned it to. He cleared his throat.

“I have something for you,” he began as he reached into his jacket pocket. “A wedding present.”

“I thought that we were exchanging our wedding gifts to each other tomorrow night after the reception,” said Emily.

“I just figured that you might want to wear yours to the ceremony,” Evan replied. He placed a square black velvet box on the table. “I hope that you like it,” he said.

Emily had wished that Evan had mentioned something about exchanging wedding presents that evening, so she could have brought his gift along. She had bought him a sterling silver pocket watch. She felt completely stupid that she had nothing to give him back. “I don’t have your gift with me,” she mumbled.

“That’s quite alright,” said Evan. “You’re my gift dearest. Just being with you is a gift.”

Emily slowly opened up the box. The inside lining of it was made from the smoothest satin in the shade of creamy caramel. Nestled amongst the satin was a beautiful and delicate necklace. It glistened, even in the dim candle light.

“Oh Evan you shouldn’t have,” Emily breathed as she carefully ran her fingers over it.

“Of course I should have,” replied Evan.

“You’re such a dear Evan,” Emily sighed as she thanked him for the necklace. It was by far one of the most beautiful necklaces that she had ever seen. She’d have to be sure never to lose it. She felt so guilty for being short with him that evening, and for spending most of her time thinking about Cliff and his cake for Geezer Butler. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured softly as she carefully closed up the box.

“I wanted to give you a beautiful necklace to symbolize how beautiful you have made my life,” said Evan as he kissed her hand. “And tomorrow, I’ll give you a ring to symbolize my never ending love for you.”

***

Harold had completely forgotten about asshole jerk ex boyfriend that was standing in his kitchen. His attention immediately went to Cecily, as she he studied the girl. Emily had mentioned Cecily so many times, actually she talked about her constantly, and now Harold had finally gotten to meet her. She had made his daughter so happy.

“Hi there Cecily,” he said kindly. He put out his arms. “Would you mind giving an old, crotchety, man a hug?”

Cecily just stared at him, still clinging to Cliff.

“You shouldn’t have gone off on her father like that in front of her,” Kerry quipped. “You’ve frightened her.”

Harold ignored his nagging wife. “Please Cecily,” he begged. “Emily has told me so many good things about you.”

“Go on Cess,” Cliff told her. He gave her a nudge forward. “Maybe if you play your cards right you can get the old fucker to buy you some shit,” he whispered to her.

“I heard that Mr. Burton!” Harold snapped.

Cecily gave one more uncertain look towards her dad, and then she made her way towards her new British grandfather. He took Cecily right into his arms and gave her a big hug.

Cliff couldn’t help but smile. Even though he didn’t like Harold much because he had just read him the riot act, the man was being kind to his daughter. It had taken her American grandfather a while to finally warm up to her. At least things went much smoother with her new British grandparents.

“You’re going to have to come and visit more often,” Harold said as he put his hands on Cecily’s shoulders. “I don’t want to go another six years without seeing you. You’re very much a part of this family now.”

“Thank you,” Cecily murmured.

“Have you ever had a Scotch egg?” Harold randomly asked her.

“Uh no sir,” replied Cecily, shaking her curly head.

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Harold told her. “You can call me Harold, but I’d really like it if you called me grandpa.”

Cecily didn’t say anything. She just looked at Cliff, who shrugged at her.

“You must try a real British Scotch egg,” Harold rattled as he started to rut around the kitchen. “It’s a hardboiled egg fried and coated in sausage. I got some really good sausage from the butcher this afternoon, real sausage from Germany.”

“Yes sir, I mean Mr. Harold,” replied Cecily. She did not look thrilled in the least. Actually, she was still stuffed from the tea cookies and from eating so much cake icing. She hated eggs too, but it would be very impolite to say so. She wanted British grandfather to like her. However, she was saved from having to eat eggs by Cliff.

“Cecily doesn’t eat eggs,” he announced.

“What?” Harold asked, his eyebrows shooting upward. He looked at Cecily. “Are you allergic to them?” he barked.

“No,” Cecily answered.

“Then why wouldn’t you eat eggs?” Harold demanded. “Everybody eats eggs.”

“Cecilys don’t,” Cliff answered. “She don’t like them.”

“I can’t believe that she won’t eat eggs,” Harold mused. “Then what does she eat?”

“I know that she seems to like tea cookies,” Kerry stated.

“If you want me to try a Scotch egg, I’ll eat one just for you,” Cecily said timidly.

“No Cecily,” Harold sighed. “That’s quite alright. My Emily was never really too fond of Scotch eggs either, but she would at least eat eggs.”

“Poached,” said Cliff. “Emily likes them poached.”

“She does,” Harold nodded. “And speaking of poached, we need to poach your ass right out of here. You brought us our granddaughter for the night, we’re grateful, but I really don’t care to see you around here anymore. Please go back to your hotel now. She’ll ride over to the church tomorrow with the bridal party.”

“You’re not going to offer me a Scotch egg?” Cliff asked.

“Not unless I put some arsenic in it,” Harold returned, glaring at Cliff.

Cliff sighed and turned to Cecily. “Good night Cess,” he said.

“Oh Daddy must you go?” Cecily asked. She grew nervous at once over the fact that she was going to be left alone with a house full of strangers. She didn’t even have Emily around to hang out with. She’d be all by herself, and that terrified her. Sure, Kerry and Harold had been very kind, but she still barely knew them, and that was a frightening thought for a little girl.

“I’m sorry Cecily,” Cliff said as he turned to her. “But I’m not real popular around here. Have fun at the wedding, and I’ll see you on Sunday when we head home.”

He gave her a big hug, kissing the top of her head as he did so. “You behave yourself,” he went on. “Respect your British grandparents. Don’t give them any bullshit. Remember to make your bed in the morning, and keep the bathroom tidy. And oh yeah, say your prayers, and watch the rough language, especially around your grandfather.”

“Yes Daddy,” Cecily answered sullenly, still terrified at being left alone. She hoped that Emily would return home from her date with Evan very soon. Then things wouldn’t be so scary.

“That’s enough Mr. Burton,” Harold cut in impatiently as he nearly pushed the two away from each other. “You don’t need to lay on the “loving father” bullshit. There’s nothing that you can do to try and win me over.”

“I’m not laying on anything,” Cliff retorted, insulted. “I love my daughter very much. She’s the only thing that I did right in my life.”

“I agree with you there,” Harold said as he led Cliff out of the room by the arm.

“Look dude,” said Cliff once they were alone in the parlor. “I need to have a word with you.”

“You will not address me as dude!” Harold snapped. “I’m not one of your rock and roll buddies. You will refer to me as sir.”

Sir,” Cliff corrected. “I know that I have done some really stupid shit. It’s not a secret, and I don’t deny it. I was an asshole to your daughter, and you were right. I don’t deserve a woman as wonderful as she is. Actually, I don’t deserve a chick who’s half as wonderful.”

“Hurry up!” Harold snapped. “You’re wasting my time.”

“I really do wish Emily all of the happiness in the world with Evan,” Cliff went on. “Evan is an okay dude.”

“Evan is a fantastic man,” said Harold. “He treats my Emily like a princess.”

“Well even prince charming can have a bad day,” responded Cliff. “Seriously, I really do hope that Emily can finally be happy, but if things don’t work out between her and Evan heaven forbid, say they divorce or what not, I’d like to ask your permission to see her again…and well….uh… maybe try things over again with her.”

“Mr. Burton!” Harold retorted. He loudly smacked his chewing gum between his lips. “Are you asking my permission to court my daughter?”

“Yeah actually,” Cliff nodded.

“And are you crazy enough to think that I’d actually be stupid enough to even give it to you?” Harold snapped.

Cliff just bit his bottom lip and shrugged.

Harold shook his head and opened the front door. “Just go!” he commanded. “Get out of here! I’ve had quite enough of you for one day. Actually, I’ve had quite enough of you for a lifetime…”
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maisy blue
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“You’re not going to offer me a Scotch egg?” Cliff asked.

“Not unless I put some arsenic in it,” Harold returned, glaring at Cliff.


I :heart: this. Finally someone who can go toe to toe with Cliff instead of just being, like, "how inappropriate!" Hehehehe. I love it. I love Cliff, but he needs a bit of a whack in the head.


Quote:
 
“Then why wouldn’t you eat eggs?” Harold demanded. “Everybody eats eggs.”

“Cecilys don’t,” Cliff answered.


I love this- Cliff's answer sounds right out of a Dr. Seuss book. LOVE it. Plus Scotch Eggs sound yicky. As I was reading it, I ekpt expecting some sort of VILE drink- like a hard boiled egg floating in a cup of whiskey or brandy. :puke: I was happy to find out it was food, but like Cess I much MUCH prefer sweets.

The entire dinner scene was written very well. I could REALLY feel and hear Emily's detachment.

Cliff has some serious ballness to ask for permission to date Emily the night before he wedding to some other guy! That's so cheeky! :P

btw- You must remind Cliff that there are many Japanese Loli stores in London for Cess. :wink: I'm only suggesting it because I would love to read you describe Cess' dream lolita outfit :) Ignore me!

MORE MORE MORE :nanner2: :nanner2: :nanner2: :nanner2:
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Lucifer's Angel
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That Scotch egg sounded gross, but I do like eggs, just not like that :P I don't blame Harold for being pissed, I would too, and Cliff asking permission to date Emily was just class, typical Burton style :rolleyes: You really wrote the dinner scene with Emily and Evan well, I could feel how detached she was, poor Evan, I like the chap :(
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