Author's Note: Alright, so this is my first Rizzoli and Isle's Fanfiction. The idea just hit me to do this in the middle of the night. I have always had an odd fascination with the 1950's, and not just the pop culture aspect. I have actually done quite a bit of research on the stigma placed upon women in this time period. I hope that you like what I have so far. Let me know what you think of it. I appreciate comments and criticisms alike.
p.s. Brookside is the name of subdivision they live in.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles. Sad…
Jane awoke to the feeling of her husband's cumbersome arm splayed across her rib cage, pinning her to the mattress. She began to feel a bit claustrophobic. She inched out from under his arm and crawled out of their bed. The sun had just begun to peep through the blinds, letting her know that she was right on schedule for the morning. She moved into the bathroom, the cool, white tile under her feet made her feel a little more awake.
When she moved in front of the mirror, she began to remove the curlers from her hair, as she did every morning. Half-asleep and moving as if she were in a dream, she removed each pin one by one, letting her hair spill across her shoulders. She studied her hair in the mirror to ensure that every curl lay as it should. This was without question the worst part of the morning. In her mind, curlers were a vile, but necessary evil. With them, her scalp hurt and it added at least half an hour to her nightly routine, but without them her curls would be in one large knot all the time. She had read in a magazine when she was a teenager that she could tame her crazy curls by rolling the curlers a certain way. She tried it and lo and behold, it worked, to her delight and dismay. She had gotten pretty quick at it now, but it didn't make the process any easier.
She then eased out of her long nightgown and into the dress she had laid out for the day. Jane glanced in the mirror at herself and decided that she looked presentable. Ready to start her day, she moved into the kitchen and began pulling out the ingredients necessary to make pancakes, sausage and eggs. Her children needed to be up in thirty minutes, but that would be plenty of time to prepare their breakfast. She could make breakfast food in her sleep after doing it for so many years, day in and day out.
She began to crack an egg for the pancake batter. She felt the egg shell crack and she pulled the thin white shell apart, releasing the yellow goo into the bowl. She began to stir the batter. Her eyes focused on the sunrise peeping over the neighbors house across the street. The pink tendrils extended over the rooftops almost as a sign that everyone's day was beginning. Jane knew that sleeping children everywhere were being dragged from their beds to catch the school bus and every mother, same as herself, was awake in charge of everyone's morning. Everything was always the same. Breakfast, wake-up call, eat, work, school, dishes—every single morning since she had gotten married nine and a half years ago, life remained generally the same.
Jane finished breakfast and laid it out on the table. She then walked into her middle child's room, knowing that she was the hardest to wake up of the three of her children. She moved to her closet first, carefully selecting her light blue dress with what looked like pink floral ribbon around the bottom and the cap of the sleeves, her white sweater, her white fold-down socks, and her black Mary-Jane shoes. It was always easier to lay out Maggie's clothes and dress her herself. Maggie was her opinionated child, and experience had taught her to give her as few options as possible in the morning.
She sat down on the bed next to her and began running her fingers through her dark wavy hair. "Maggie, it's morning baby doll. School today." Maggie laid as still as a statue. Jane smiled, moving her hand down to her daughter's arms, rubbing her thumb across it.
"Angela Margaret…rise and shine. I made pancakes this morning."
Maggie shook her head and flopped onto her stomach. She should have known that wouldn't work. Maggie could care less about eating breakfast. Knowing that this would be a not-so-fun-Maggie morning, Jane rolled Maggie onto her back and slid her hands under her arms. Maggie knew what was happening and began to groan. Jane hoisted her up into a sitting position and slipped her nightgown over her head. Tears began to stream down Maggie's face, but Jane had been expecting them. She slipped her dress over her head and began to rock her gently.
"It's ok, honey. You're half ready to go to school now." Maggie turned her head into Jane's chest and let silent tears stream down her face. She knew better than to cry loudly or her father would come in and not be very happy at her for disrupting everyone's morning.
'Mommy, I'm cold." Jane just nodded, wrapping the blanket at the end of Maggie's bed around her sleepy child as she did every morning and carried her into the living room. She deposited her into the arm chair, instructing her not to go back to sleep. Maggie nodded, her eyes already drooping.
Jane shook her head, her routine only half-finished. She sidled down the hall into her sons' room, knowing that food was enough to pull her boys from their slumber. She laid out both children's clothes for the day at the foot of their beds and sat down next to her youngest son.
The five year old lay sleeping with his back side straight into the air. Jane loved when he slept like that. It reminded her of when her sweet cherub-faced son was an infant sleeping soundly in his bassinet. She rubbed his back and called his name softly.
"Richie, wake up baby. I made pancakes this morning." It took him a moment to stretch and rub his eyes, but then he was wide awake. She kissed his cheek and dressed him quickly. As soon as he was ready, he ran out into the kitchen to his normal spot at the table.
She then moved to the bed on the far side of the room where her oldest child lay peacefully. She watched him for a moment, his round face now thinning out. He was growing up and she knew it. She wished that he could stay here forever, safe from the world. She sat down on his bed gently, rubbing the spot where the back of his neck met the bottom of his raven hair with her fingertips. "Frankie, sweetheart, it's time to wake up. I made your favorite this morning," she said in a low voice. He grunted in response and pulled the covers over his head, shirking away from her touch.
"It's a school day. You need to be up in five minutes or you won't have time to eat breakfast. You want to go to school without breakfast, today?"
Frankie flipped over onto his back, pulling the covers down just enough so that his head would peep out. He was fighting sleep desperately, but his inner-turmoil over pancakes or sleep was evident. Jane laughed knowing how much her son loved to eat, especially breakfast.
She laughed lightly, snaking a hand under the covers to tickle him. "Be dressed and at the table in five." She leaned to kiss his forehead and he quickly wiped it off.
"C'mon Mom," he said with utter exasperation, "I'm not a baby."
She turned to look back at him from the door frame, "But you're my baby. Get up," she shot back lovingly, eliciting a groan from her oldest son.
She then moved into her husband's room. He was easy to wake-up. She shook his arm lightly. "It's time to get up. Pancakes, sausage and eggs for breakfast." He nodded and she left the room, knowing that he would pull himself from the bed.
When she moved into the kitchen, Frankie and Richie were already seated at the table fork in hand. Maggie was curled into the arm of the chair trying desperately to stay awake.
"Maggie," Richie yelled to her. "It's pancake time!."
Maggie sat up just far enough to send him an evil glare before sinking back into the cream colored fabric. Jane tried to hide her smile and shook her head. She really did love her children. She pulled her daughter from the chair, cradling her in her arms. Maggie laid her head on her shoulder and Jane patted her back softly.
"You need to wake up before your Daddy comes out to eat. He won't be very happy if you are falling asleep at the table," she half-whispered.
She felt Maggie nod her head as she lowered her into the chair. All three children waited for their father until they touched any of the food. Jane wasn't the only family member who followed the routine. Jane folded Maggie's blanket and placed it back on the foot of her bed. She grabbed all three children's socks and shoes and carried them to the front door. As she did every morning, she moved to the table and began to make a plate for Richie, cutting up the pancake into more manageable pieces.
Richard came out dressed in his work suit just as Jane was cutting the last strip of pancake. He smiled at her and kissed each child's forehead before he sat down. He gave Maggie a small hug, knowing how hard it was for her to stay awake in the mornings. The children made their plates in relative silence. Frankie began to douse his pancakes in syrup. Jane opened her mouth to scold him, but Richard beat her to it.
"Frankie, that's enough, son. You'll get sick from all of the sugar."
She put her head down to the table and waited until everyone had food on their plates and then made her own. She focused on the golden pancakes resting on her plate more than anything in the room. She knew that the conversation between her husband and children was relatively the same as yesterday, and they day before that, and the day before that. She tuned them out, instead focusing on anything else.
She had made the pancakes a little differently this morning, not that anyone would notice the subtle change, but she knew it and they were different none the less. She had to break up the monotony of her day somehow. Unfortunately, a half of a teaspoon of cinnamon was the way to do it.
"Jane, you look beautiful this morning. Did you sleep well?" Jane was a tad bit startled by his voice. My turn now, I guess. The children fell silent, knowing to be quiet once both parents began to interact.
"Thank you. I did." She didn't know what else to say. She wanted to bring up the fact that he was crushing her rib cage in bed this morning, but she let it go. Her eyes fell back to her plate. She knew she needed to keep up her end of the conversation, if not for anyone but her children.
"I was thinking of making roast beef tonight. I had planned on something with the chicken in the fridge, but I thought roast beef might be nice. I know how you like it." She smiled lightly, trying to feign normalcy as she struggled with her day-to-day routine.
"That sounds delicious. Do you need any money?" He said between a large bite of pancake and egg.
"No, I have some in my purse. I should be ok." He nodded, not letting the conversation taper.
"You know the new neighbors are moving into the Johnson's house today. I don't know what time the movers will be here, but it will be some time this morning. You have the best view of the sidewalk in the neighborhood. Be sure to collect details. I'm sure the women in your sewing club or whatever will be interested in the family. I know how you women like to gossip." He let out a hearty laugh, elbowing Frankie as if they shared some sort of male bond over the sexist quip.
"I don't gossip," she wanted to say, but she fought the urge, swallowing it down with a sip of coffee. She merely smiled and nodded.
"I heard that it's a doctor and his wife and child. I don't know why a doctor would be moving in next to us. His salary is without a doubt bigger than everyone's in here."
Jane let his voice taper back into the background focusing once more on the cinnamon in her pancakes.
By the time breakfast ended, Maggie was her alert, talkative self. Richard left almost as soon as he finished eating and kissed them all goodbye before pulling off in the family station wagon. Jane helped Richie put on his shoes, delegated a light sweater to each child, and braided Maggie's dark hair away from her face. All three children were out of the door right on time. Jane waved to them as they met up with the other neighborhood children to walk the block to school. That was one of the main reasons Richard had decided to purchase their house in this subdivision. The children could walk and "learn to be more independent," he said. Jane still wanted to walk with them, especially since Richie was only five, but she always fought the urge and turned back inside to do the morning dishes, like always.
So I'm interested in everyone's reaction. Let me know if you feel like this could go somewhere. I definitely have most of it planned out and have a lot written.