My Mom & My Dad

Chapter 8: The Queen Mother

Stephen:

I woke up early the next morning even before my alarm clock was set to ring for the day. I ran straight to my dad's room to see if he was already awake. He had promised the night before that he would tell me how his first date with Felicity went, and I was so excited to hear about it.

You see, by the time Dad and Felicity arrived at the apartment after their date, Emily had already fallen asleep on Aunt Thea's lap in the living room couch. I and Aunt Thea, on the other hand, had kept ourselves awake by watching five episodes of The Flash reruns.

"We're back," Dad said as he and Felicity came through the door.

"Shh... we don't want to wake this little angel," Aunt Thea said, with her pointer finger on her lips.

I sprang from the couch to hug my dad. With my arms still wrapped around his waist, I looked up to see his brightly smiling face. "How did it go, Dad?" I asked.

"Let's just say it has been the most delightful evening in my life," he replied. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

I begged my dad twice to tell me all about 'the most delightful evening of his life,' but he insisted that it will have to wait until morning because Emily was fast asleep and Felicity needed to tuck her into bed, so we had to get going.

I looked at Felicity, who was standing about a foot away from my dad. She was so beautiful, even more beautiful now that her face was glowing with happiness. She was perfect for my dad. I wanted her to be my new mom so badly, and I wanted to tell her so. But for some reason, I couldn't find the right words to say what was in my heart. I let go of my dad, reached for one of her hands, and tugged lightly, signaling her to come forward and bend down to my level. Sensing what I had wanted her to do, Felicity knelt down in front of me and my dad and held both my hands in her soft ones. Her smile grew wider and her eyebrows lifted, cueing me in that she was going to pay attention to whatever it was that I had to say to her. I didn't care if I was going to mess up her make-up or her hair. I kissed her cheek and then threw my arms around her neck, pulling her close to a tight hug. Felicity's arms were around me in an instant. For the first time in three years, I felt a mother's embrace once again, and it felt so... good. (I know boys aren't supposed to cry. But, hey! Can you blame me?)

When I opened the door to my dad's room that morning, I saw his empty bed. And then, I heard the shower in his bathroom running. I figured it would take him a while, so I decided to go to the kitchen and have breakfast.

When I got there, my grandmother Moira was already seated on one of the bar stools of the long marble top kitchen counter where we had breakfast every morning if we didn't have guests staying over. She was already having coffee while reading the morning paper, as always. Every morning, she'd be the first one awake, the first one in the kitchen, ready to greet everyone else. She'd already done her hair and put on day make-up long before anyone else in our humungous house had showered, exercised, or started brewing coffee.

"Oh, good morning, Stephen!" Grandma greeted.

"Good morning, Grandma," I greeted back as I climbed up the bar stool beside her.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked.

"Ham and eggs, please," I answered. Grandma called for Lucia and ordered her to make me breakfast as requested. While waiting for my meal, I looked at my grandmother as she sipped her coffee and scanned through the first few pages of the Starling City Daily News.

I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like my grandma. She was dignified, not just in the way she carried herself, but more so in her actions and in the tone of her voice. She commanded respect from all of us, and she is used to having her way... always. For Moira Queen, everything had to be under control. Her control. Still, although she was more of the serious and strict type of woman, who always minded her manners and made sure the rest of us did as well, she had her sweet moments too. She would sometimes give me presents even if there wasn't any occasion. Sometimes she'd sneak up behind me and give me a hug, calling me all sorts of pet names that I never really told her I disliked. Somehow I knew Grandma loved me, but it had always felt like she was holding something back, which I couldn't quite figure out then.