Title: Just Another Day
Fandom: Fried Green Tomatoes
Characters: Idgie Threadgood, Ruth Jameson
Warning: I tried my best, but this hasn't been beta'd. All mistakes are my own.
Summary: Idgie tries to make Ruth's mother's day special.
Author's Note: Written for ariestess with the prompt of "Mother's Day."
Disclaimer: These characters belong to I'm not quite sure who, but whoever it is is definitely not me. No copyright infringement is intended.
The surprise was plain in Ruth Jameson's voice as she stepped into the still dark Cafe. Even the lights in the kitchen were still off.
"Idgie?" She called again, frustration slipping into her voice. Idgie had told her to sleep in the night before; that she'd open the Cafe the next morning for her with Sipsey. This morning there was no sign of Sipsey or Idgie and none of the work that had to be done before the Cafe was ready to open was done.
They'd be late in opening. She loved that girl, but sometimes she wanted wring her neck.
Quickly she turned on the lights and began to move about the kitchen. There was nothing to be done about it but to start doing what had to be done. Cursing Idgie, if only silently, wouldn't get things done faster.
The back door creaked open. Ruth didn't spare a moment to glance at it. She was too mad to want to see Idgie right now.
"Ruth?" Idgie called, surprise evident in her voice. "What are you doing in here, Honey? I thought you were gonna sleep late?"
Ruth threw down the rag that was in her hand and whirled to face Idgie. "And I thought you were going to open the Cafe today, Idgie Threadgood."
Idgie looked like a deer caught in the glare of headlights.
"I may have, uh," She stuttered around for an explanation. "I changed my mind." She finally said, drawing herself up with as much stiff dignity as she could manage with Ruth still glaring at her.
"You changed your mind," Ruth repeated slowly. Idgie was forever surprising her, coming up with ideas and things that she had no idea where they came from. She had a feeling that this was another of those times.
"Yeah," Idgie said offhandedly, "I did. I've got other plans for us. This town can do one day without us. Besides," She scoffed, "I can do without that Reverend Froggins coming in and bitchin' about us servin' folks food on the Sabbath."
"Idgie!" Ruth glared. It was so like her to say something infuriating even as she tried to charm Ruth into agreeing with her.
"What?" Idgie gave her that look that was so innocent that it could make angels cry. It only made Ruth's eyes narrow.
Idgie didn't press it, only held her hand out to Ruth. There wasn't a moments doubt in either of their minds that Ruth would take it.
When Ruth took it, Idgie led her towards the back door, stopping only to turn out the lights and make sure the stove was off. The last thing they needed was to burn the place down.
When they got to the steps, Ruth saw the car parked out back.
"You borrowed Julian's car?"
"Sure," Idgie replied, flashing her a smile. She opened the door for Ruth and then closed it behind her after she got in. Idgie ran around to the other side and jumped in over the door. The sparkle in Idgie's eyes brought a smile to Ruth.
"Where are you taking me, Idgie?"
"Aw, don't you trust me, Ruth?"
Ruth met Idgie's eyes easily. She was tempted to let her sweat for a moment, but she couldn't bring herself to. Not after everything that they'd been through together. "Yes, I do." A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Where's Buddy Jr.?"
"He's stayin' over at Mama's. Said she's been missing having him around."
As Mrs. Threadgood got to see her grandson nearly everyday, Ruth wasn't quite sure that was what had actually been said, but today she wasn't in the mood to question Idgie.
It didn't keep her from giving Idgie a knowing look.
Idgie only flashed her that wild grin again and gave the car a little bit more gas until they were flying down the bumpy country roads. The comfortable warmth of the summers day was lifted a bit by the wind blowing past them as Idgie drove. Ruth found herself grinning too.
The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Idgie pulled the car to a stop with a cloud of dust drifting up from behind them.
"C'mon," Idgie said impatiently, holding her hand out to Ruth again. "You've gotta see this."
Ruth laughed but put a bit more of a hurry into her step as she caught Idgie's hand. They half-ran, Idgie pulling them along, through the trees, until they got to the edge of a small pond.
Ruth looked over at Idgie, about to ask her something, only to see Idgie put her finger gently over Ruth's lips, stopping her. Idgie tugged on her hand once more, pulling her in another direction. With more curiosity than pique, Ruth followed her, until Idgie stopped next to a giant oak tree whose branches leaned out over the water.
She dropped to a crouch next to the tree trunk, leaning against it, and pulled Ruth with her. She was close enough that Ruth could feel her warm breath tingling against her face as she whispered.
"Just wait a minute," Idgie said softly. "You'll see."
Ruth nodded, Idgie's request for silence still fresh in her mind. Idgie sat down, crossing her legs on the slightly damp grass. Ruth sat down beside her and smiled when Idgie casually put her arm across her shoulders. She leaned into the younger woman's warmth and laid her head on her shoulder.
Golden colors of the rising sun reflected pinks, purples and reds into the surface of the pond as they sat still. A moment later, Idgie's hand squeezed her shoulder and she looked over to where Idgie was pointing.
A young fawn knelt by the edge of the pond, its white spots gleaming clearly in the light, as it drank.
A few steps behind it, its mother stood head held high scanning the surrounding area for activity.
Ruth held her breath as they watched them for several moments until they finally wandered back into the brush.
"Oh, Idgie," She breathed, "That was wonderful."
"Yeah," Idgie said gruffly.
Ruth was suddenly aware of Idgie's complete attention focused on her. Usually she was so casual and going in so many directions that it was disarming to have Idgie's full, steady attention focused on her.
"Thank you," Ruth spoke more softly than she'd intended.
Idgie nodded. She pulled her arm back, but didn't let go of Ruth completely. Her hand slid across Ruth's shoulder and up her neck, stopping when her thumb brushed across Ruth's cheek.
Ruth leaned closer, meeting Idgie halfway for a kiss that was slow and comfortable. She felt so safe held in Idgie's arms. It was nothing like Frank.
She tangled her fingers into Idgie's hair and slipped her other hand behind Idgie's neck, pulling her closer. She lost herself in sweet kisses and gentle caresses until she could hardly catch her breath for want of Idgie.
"Idgie," She said slowly, pulling away just a little so that she could look into her eyes. "Honey, why'd you do this?"
"I have to have a reason," Idgie asked, a bit disgruntled by the sudden question.
"Idgie," Ruth repeated, putting more than a single word into her name. Reminding her that she wasn't the usual people that Idgie spoke to, who underestimated who she truly was.
"I wanted to do somethin' special for ya," She admitted, not quite meeting Ruth's eyes. "Mother's day, and all," She mumbled quietly looking down.
"Oh." The words hit Ruth with a gasp of remembered pain. She thought of how her own mother had looked the last time she'd seen her, in so much pain.
She'd forgotten that this was the day, maybe tried to make herself forget. It was so sweet of Idgie to do something like this out of the blue and without mentioning why so as not to upset her.
She smiled slowly, now thinking only of the woman before her. Reaching out, she tilted Idgie's chin up, until she met her eyes.
"I do love you, Idgie Threadgood," She said simply, before she pulled her into another kiss.