Oldest sibling syndrome was no joke. Five kids that Fiona had taken the liberty of caring for. An absent mother and a semi-absent father who could hardly fit the definition of ‘father’. Fiona gave her whole life to these kids.

Monica had the absolute fuckin’ audacity to drop in as if all the bridges weren’t burned. As if she didn’t ruin the lives of every one of her kids. As if she didn’t ruin Fiona.

“Roberta and I want to start a family of our own.” Liam gurgles nonsense in the arms of Roberta.

“Well how about you finish this one first!” Fiona is beyond livid. “You don’t get to abandon your kids, and then…show up one day to take your pick of the litter.”

Frank stands up, putting his two cents in as always, even when he had no right to.

“Shut up, Frank.” Fiona cuts him off sharply, “This isnt about you.”

She turns to face Monica, the years of neglect she endured made their appearance in her gaze. “This is about you. This is about what you didn’t do.” Her voice shakes, but there’s a grit to it. Anger seeps into her bones. “This is about what I did.”

“And you know what? I did a fuckin’ great job.” She gestures around to the kids she’s raised like her own, “Debbie’s class president. She’s on the debate team, going to nationals. And Lip, he’s top of his class. He set the curve…Ian was promoted in ROTC, and he tested outta English. And Carl—made something blow up for his science fair.”

“And you know what? They did it all, no thanks to you, because you. weren’t. here.”

“I appreciate that Fiona, but…I’m here now. And Liam belongs with me.” Monica whispers, like she has any fuckin’ right to argue with this. Tears have the audacity to well up in her eyes.

“He doesn’t even know who you are!” Tears blur Fiona’s vision.

“I’m his mother!”

“You were my mother too!” She shouts back, hands shaking with emotions she couldn’t name.

Monica babbles on about how she can’t ever make things right with Fiona, but she still has time with Liam, Carl, and Debbie. Fiona is just so, so fucking done. If she wanted them so bad she could have them.

“I’m done. The schools, the bills, the clinics. I’m done.” Fiona sets the keys down with a thump and pulls on her coat. “All yours, Monica.” The door slams behind her.