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TedLassoOnePromptforAll - Travel
Stats:
Published:
2022-03-02
Words:
2,856
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
58
Kudos:
244
Bookmarks:
16
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1,859

the adventure

Summary:

Nora has some news.

Notes:

This is my contribution to the Ted Lasso 1p4a February challenge - travel!

I'm gifting this story to the lovely ihopethatyouburn because she's written some incredible stories (including a couple in "my" fic universes, for which I am forever grateful) and her take on Rebecca and the various kids in her life really informed a lot of my thinking here. Seriously, go check out her stories.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Rebecca’s phone doesn’t ring very often. She leaves her text notifications on silent—she checks her phone too often as it is, she won’t miss a text for long—but keeps her ringtone turned up in case anything important happens. There haven’t been any genuine emergencies lately, but she has received a few important communications—like when Henry made a series of memorable video calls from Michelle’s phone one night a month or so ago, using a different face filter each time, on the very first occasion he opted to contact Rebecca directly instead of agreeing to speak with her when he was already talking to Ted. Like when Leslie called to tell her the promising midfielder from Mali was close to making a signing decision and wanted to visit Richmond a second time. Like when her mother called from a hotel desk in Paris because she’d gotten locked out of her iPhone and needed tech support.

And so it isn’t that no one ever calls her without texting first, but it’s a rare thing. Rare enough that Rebecca shudders in fright when her phone rings at what must be well past ten p.m. on a Friday night.

The timing isn’t good.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Ted pants, slowing but not stopping the rhythm of his hips. “You’re okay.”

His voice brings her back to the moment even as the chipper, chirpy ringtone continues to sound from the nightstand. She barely registers the brightness of the screen in the dark room. “All right,” she gasps. “Keep going.”

Ted is propped up on one arm, driving into her, speeding up again now that he has permission. His other arm is angled between their bodies, his hand lazily wrestling Rebecca’s own for access to her clit before his fingers settle against hers with the perfect amount of pressure. It’s the second round of the night, somehow more intense than the first. When they talk about big things, as they’ve been doing lately, it’s like the bottom drops out on the well of desire. There’s an endless supply of the energy between them, there for the taking, and the more they take the more there is.

Ted bends to kiss her neck and the press of his soft lips and the scratch of his mustache does it. She cries out as the orgasm swells within her, potent and warm, and she can’t stop clenching around him, especially not now that he’s so close he’s begging in her ear, just quietly, pleading for insensible things they’ll forget the meaning of, holding onto just the feeling. She can hear everything he’s saying, she realizes, because the phone’s stopped ringing.

“That’s it,” she whispers, bringing her hand up to cradle the back of his head. “Take it, darling, that’s it.” He does, and when he’s finished he slumps against her for a minute, catching his breath before pulling out.

“Oh my God,” he says, rolling onto his side. “That was—”

The phone rings again.

“I should really—” Rebecca says, and startles all over again when she picks up her phone and it’s Nora, of all people, probably calling because Sassy is dead, or maybe Darren has died in some horrific accident and it’s going to look like a murder, it’s going to look like Sassy did it, and she’ll be framed for the crime and Rebecca and Ted will have to go to court and ask for guardianship so they can at least get Nora through A-levels, or—

“Nora!” Rebecca practically shouts into the phone, heart racing. “I’m so sorry, what’s the matter?”

Nora sniffles. “Aunt Stinky? Are you home? Can you please let me in?”

Rebecca does her best to scroll through her phone notifications as she throws on crumpled pajamas, pulls a robe around herself, and runs down the stairs, leaving Ted in the bedroom with only the barest details to go on. She has ten unread texts from Sassy—why didn’t she just call?—that tell the story of Sassy being pretty sure Nora has run away from home, then pretty sure she might be taking the train into London, then certain she’s taken the train into London and that she’s on the way to Rebecca and Ted because she’s heard from Nora—who’s apparently attempted to be conscientious about stealing away.

The next few minutes are a blur. On planned visits, Nora always comes to the garden door, but she isn’t there when Rebecca opens it. She rushes to the front door, flinging it open to find Nora practically staggering under the weight of an enormous hiking backpack. At fifteen, she’s tall and gangly-limbed and covered in denim and grungy flannel. Rebecca grabs her by the shoulders, pulls her close, and calls Sassy while she shoves Nora towards the kitchen, staying on the line only long enough to assure her she’s fine and will figure out what’s going on. In the kitchen, she takes the backpack off Nora’s shoulders and hefts it to the floor.

They’re seated at the kitchen island with a glass of water for Nora and tissues for her tear-stained cheeks when Ted makes his way downstairs. Rebecca narrows her eyes at his fresh t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms and damp hair—evidence that he managed a record-breakingly short shower before coming downstairs. Bastard. He pretends to try to mask his smile at the fact she’s noticed he cleaned up.

“Hey, Nora,” Ted says, sliding into a spot perpendicular to Rebecca on her free side. “What’s shakin’?”

“I haven’t gotten a word out of her,” Rebecca says. She hopes Nora won’t be too insulted by the third-person address. She’s tried to keep her voice gentle, a little conspiratorial.

Nora looks up at Ted with a faint smile that fades as soon as she starts to speak. “I would’ve gotten here sooner, just so you know,” she says, with only the faintest, trembly remnants of the tears she’s already cried. “I had my biology exam at the very end of the day, so I couldn’t cut school, but even so I should’ve been here by about eight, and Mum wasn’t even supposed to be home until around then so I would’ve been safely at yours by the time she noticed I was gone, but there was a mechanical issue with the track and my phone was dead for a while because it’s an absolute piece of shit and I couldn’t find my charger.”

“Okay,” Ted says thoughtfully. “So you had some logistical headaches to work through. Would hot cocoa improve the situation in any way, shape, or form?”

Rebecca watches with some amusement the war on Nora’s face. She wants to say yes to a nice dad making her cocoa almost as much as she wants to appear like a competent adult who definitely didn’t botch running away from home because she wants to keep up her high marks in biology.

“I’m having some regardless,” Ted says.

“Yes, please,” says Nora.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes, yes,” Rebecca says quickly. “I’ll have some.”

They have instant, but Ted opts for the superior Mexican kind that involves real milk and cinnamon and a saucepan on the stove. He simmers and stirs, and they’ve been together for months and months, long enough that he practically lives here, but Rebecca has the sudden, radiant glimmer of a thought that this is exactly what this kitchen was always supposed to be. He was always supposed to be in this kitchen, using it to make something good.

“Now, I don’t mean to pry,” Ted says, punctuating the interjection with some rapid whisking, “but a mechanical issue with the track explains the delay, but it doesn’t explain why you got on the train in the first place.”

Nora answers—or attempts to answer—Ted’s question while looking at Rebecca. “I can’t answer without breaking a moral code within the LGBTQ community.”

Rebecca’s eyes widen, and Ted turns away from the cocoa to make the briefest eye contact. He’s at as much of a loss as she is. “Nor,” Rebecca says. “You can tell us. Or we can go to a different room and you can tell just me. If whatever it was was bad enough you took a train to London without telling anyone—the moral code can handle a little bending.”

“Mum got a girlfriend,” Nora blurts. Ted’s whisk clinks against the side of the pan, but he recovers quickly. “Her name’s Jenny and she’s another bloody psychologist and I can’t stand her.”

“Oh,” Rebecca says. “Darling, you aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know.” She’s only stretching the truth a tiny bit. Sassy has texted her about Jenny, just a bit—a recap of a couple dates, an observation that it’s quite a bit of fun, a woman, after so long “away.”

“I’m not?”

“I didn’t know she was going to introduce you,” Rebecca admits. It seems a bit early to have told Nora about her, but it’s possible things are more serious than Sassy wanted to let on. “We haven’t spoken much this week…but you haven’t, erm, outed someone against her will.”

Ted carefully pours the cocoa into three mugs. “When’d you meet her?” he asks as he distributes the drinks and returns to his seat.

“Wednesday,” Nora says. She can barely get the word out—she looks near tears again, takes a too-hot sip of cocoa to hide it, burns her lip and tries to hide that too. “But it wouldn’t have been practical to leave sooner than today.”

“Nora,” Rebecca tries again. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” She’s starting to get scared. None of the pieces fit together in a way that makes sense, but she’s certain something awful’s happened. To Nora, her perfect long-lost kid.

“You’ve done it too, you know,” Nora says, a bit accusatory, a bit deflective. “You ruined my thing for Sam Obisanya, you knew I had a crush on him and I was really happy for you, that you got to sleep with him, but it was still a bit weird—” She cuts herself off and claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I literally can’t stop sharing information about other people, and now I’ve basically just told your new boyfriend all about your old boyfriend—”

“Darling. Ted knows. Stop catastrophizing.”

“We’re not big on secrets in this house,” Ted says, and somehow that gets the conversation back on topic.

“On Wednesday night I was going to tell mum something important.”

The kitchen is silent. No one lifts a mug to their lips. No one fiddles with a spoon or drums their fingers against the countertop. They wait in stillness.

“I made dinner for us,” Nora continues. “Like, actually made something good, pasta and red sauce and a bakery baguette and some vegetables I’m too distressed to recall right now.” It wouldn’t be possible to love Nora more than Rebecca does in this moment. “I was going to tell her I like girls.” And there it is. She loves Nora even more. Nora looks down at her lap. “I’m still figuring out if I’d like to use bi or pan, or maybe when I’ve got a bit more experience I’ll end up figuring out I’m a lesbian and I’ll stop making you feel bad about Sam Obisanya. Really couldn’t tell you.” She looks up again. “Say something, please?”

Rebecca stands up and throws her arms around Nora, squeezing as tight as she possibly can. “I love you so much.”

Nora grins. “Love you too, Aunt Stinky.”

She sits back down. “Are we the first people you’ve told?”

“No.” Nora rolls her eyes a little. “Most of my friends already know. It’s not that big of a deal, really, but it was going to be a big deal to tell Mum, and then she brought Jenny to the dinner, and I really hadn’t heated up enough sauce to have a surprise guest, and instead of me telling her I like girls, she told me she does. So I obviously couldn’t say anything, then, because…”

“Because she rained on your pride parade,” Ted says, and Rebecca is pretty sure he’s trying not to cry at the wonder that is Nora. “Not that she intended to, but that’s basically what happened.”

“Exactly,” Nora says. “I couldn’t stay a minute longer, she just—she makes everything about her and it’s shit. I’ve never even had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. It’s all hypothetical and embarrassing and I’m just. So annoyed with her.”

Rebecca glances back at Ted, a longer look this time. He looks at her with pure trust in his eyes. Ted’s looks are always about something—a joke he wants to make without anyone but her hearing, the beauty he sees in her, the next match, a prior conversation—and this look is about everything he’s told her recently, and everything she’s told him. The honesty that’s made them even more hungry for each other this week.

Rebecca tells her part of the story. There’s a moral code, after all. “It won’t help your sense of uniqueness, but I’ve liked a few girls in my day.” She’s doing it again—making it about the past tense girls she knew back at uni (and Sassy), instead of something she is, something always with her. It’s the same tendency that used to make her terrified that Keeley was being serious when she flirted with her but simultaneously a little disappointed at the possibility that she wasn’t. She clears her throat. “It’s a spectrum, isn’t it, and—”

Nora’s stuck on the juicy past-tense part, mouth open with incredulous delight. “Are you serious?” she blurts.

“Of course I’m serious,” Rebecca says with a laugh.

“Wow,” Nora says. She goes glum again, and Rebecca remembers for the millionth time tonight how exhausting it was to be fifteen, a new emotion every minute. “Wish Mum could’ve ended up with you, Aunt Stinky,” she mutters. “No offense, Ted.”

Ted raises his arms, palms spread wide in a gesture of surrender. “Oh, none taken. My son’s always down to chat about the merits of Rebecca Welton as a stepmom kind of person. But having her as a godmother’s pretty good, too.”

Nora nods in acquiescence, and it’s almost too much kindness for Rebecca to handle.

“By this point, your mum’s practically my own sister,” Rebecca says. For Ted’s benefit, she doesn’t want to lay it on too thick. “And I’m happy for her, finding someone who she wants to spend her time with. Sorry you don’t like her, though.”

“I promised Mum I’d give her a chance.”

“Good.” It still stings a little, thinking about the old days with Sassy. The way their time together always felt stolen. The thought that if a few things had been different, she could’ve had an entirely different life, one in which she didn’t waste so much time on Rupert, and didn’t get so hurt. But she knows in her bones that Sassy wasn’t right for her. And she doesn’t like to imagine a life without Nora. Without Ted. Without Henry and Keeley and Roy and everyone.

Before much longer, they rinse their mugs in the sink and head upstairs. Rebecca texts back and forth with Sassy, sharing none of Nora’s news and offering what she hopes is the right amount of reassurance. When they’ve settled things, she checks that Nora’s light is still on and knocks on the guest room door.

“Come in,” Nora says, very quiet.

“You can stay with us until Sunday,” Rebecca says from the doorway, and thanks her lucky stars that Nora is still young enough to light up at the prospect of a London weekend with her. “But then you’re taking the train back home.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Rebecca says. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but—I’m really proud of you.”

Nora dips her chin against her chest, clearly a little embarrassed. But maybe a little proud of herself, too.

It’s very late, but Rebecca takes a quick shower before bed. Takes a moment alone with her thoughts, appreciating the way they quiet down against the strong sluice of hot water. She’s exhausted, but by the time she emerges to put on fresh pajamas and climb into bed, she tells herself that if Ted wants to talk, she’ll stay up later, no problem. The Greyhounds don’t have a match tomorrow—Nora picked a decent evening to run away from home.

But when she slides under the covers, Ted’s eyelids are heavy with sleep and the light on his nightstand is already out. She reaches to turn out hers, and rolls close in the dark to lay her head on his shoulder.

“You did good,” Ted whispers.

“Thanks.” She smirks a little. “Life’s an adventure, isn’t it?”

“I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about life.”

Then she should say a lot more nice things, she thinks. But it’s late and dark and quiet, so she says it with a kiss and an arm around Ted’s waist and a daydream of beautiful, unexpected tomorrow.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading. I would love to hear what you think, and welcome any and all feedback including constructive criticism. :)