the pearl

My Baby Girl

I can accept a lot of things from my daughter.

When she wouldn't really talk about what happened that day in the Crashdown, I was a little upset — I mean, no one hurts my baby — but, at the same time, I understood how she couldn't talk about it. It's a Parker trait — always be strong.

When she started taking those weird little herbal pills Maria was giving her, I figured, well, it could be worse. After all, I did think they were actual drugs, and I could've accepted marijuana, hell, we all did it as kids, but anything stronger was definitely not a good idea.

And even though she won't tell me about that boy she's seeing, that Evans kid, and I thought it'd be a better idea if she was with Jim's boy — after all, Jim and I have known each other since high school — and I still can't quite figure out what's going on between them, one day she's all moon-eyed, the next, refusing to look at him. Now he sits in the cafe looking at her like she's ripped his heart out and she's ignoring him. But that's to be expected, of course, teenagers and all that.

And Lord knows I spent a night or two in the slammer — Old Man Valenti was awfully fond of locking up the youngsters of the town for looking at him crosseyed. So I forgave her when she came home late one night and I ended up getting the story from that boy Alex's dad.

But I don't really know if I can accept this. I mean, one day, you're sitting with other parents in the cafe waiting for your kids to return home after going off on some crazy thing, and the next, you're walking in on your baby girl kissing her best friend.

And I don't mean a simple peck on the cheek — those girls have always been close, since they were little — but a full-on kiss, with her hands all over the place... If it were a boy, I'd've...

But it wasn't a boy, it was Maria. And I didn't know what to do, or say, or anything, so I just went back into the other room and acted like nothing happened.

I know they do that sort of thing in the big cities, but in Roswell? We're known for aliens, not...lesbians. What kind of life are they gonna have here?

Maybe they were just experimenting, kids do that. I mean, heck, one night, Jim and I got really drunk and....

But my baby girl? Could this be just a phase? Or has she finally found someone?

If she has, Maria and I are going to have a long talk about treating her right.

This Roswell story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.