lirazel | Fic: Number Line

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Current Location: lunch break

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Fic: Number Line

Y'all, I have been writing like crazy lately. Which is probably not a good idea, considering how much reading I need to be doing for school, but I just can't stop.

I want to be Tami Taylor when I grow up.

Title: Number Line
Pairing/Characters: Tami-centric, Tami/Eric, Julie
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Summary: Today, she was a wife, a mother, a guidance counselor, a campaign manager, a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand, a chef, a chauffer, a secretary, peacemaker, a confidant.

“You do your dreaming in traffic jams
You do your running in shopping malls
You do your breathing the best you can
Between car pools and cell phone calls….”

—“Beautiful Racket,” Mary Chapin Carpenter

Today at school she dealt with one crisis pregnancy, broke up two fights, sent three "your child is failing blank; please contact me about a meeting" notes to parents, took four Tylenol Headache tablets, and comforted five crying girls.

She was the pretty girl in high school, head of the cheerleading squad, Homecoming Queen, content to get by on her looks and popularity rather than the brains she hid. But just because everyone wanted to be her didn’t mean that she didn’t feel peer pressure—she still remembers specific put-downs she used against the band dorks or the boring good girls, just to make everyone else laugh. She wasn’t heartless; it never came easy; she felt every flinch, every teary eye, every person who avoided her.

It took her a while to grow up and realize that she didn’t have to be worshipped at others’ expenses. She remembers those days all too well: in this end of Texas, high school stands out as the only time when your life has some real meaning.

She knows how false that is; her life is full of meaning now. Wife, mother, guidance counselor. She provides those kids with the two things they need most: an understanding ear and a ready shoulder to cry on.

Sometimes, though, she feels so inadequate. Her second day on the job, Katie Charlton came into her office and sobbed for forty-five minutes about something Jessie Plummer, head Rally Girl, had said. The next week, the principal had dragged Mark Langdon in when they found meth in his locker and Principal Brecker wanted “Mrs. Coach” to talk to the boy before they called the police. Eric had to listen to her voice all of her insecurities to the ceiling as they lay their in the dark—at least until he kissed them all away.

Somehow, though, the right words come out of her mouth (most of the time, at least), though she isn’t always sure when she got so wise. The kids cling to them, and though she can’t always set things to rights for them, she somehow thinks it’s (almost) enough for them to know that someone’s heart is aching for them, someone is caring about their desperate situations. That someone remembers how horrible high school can be, how important everything is, how you feel like you’re about to be crushed under everyone’s expectations (or worse, lack thereof). And that she loves these kids, really and truly loves them, and that counts for something.

Other days, of course, she knows that isn’t nearly enough.

Today at home she fried one pound of bacon, made three sandwiches, peeled five potatoes, and baked six batches of brownies for the bake sale.

Her mama was the stereotypical housewife. Breakfast: toast, bacon, eggs, orange juice, milk, coffee. Lunch: sandwiches, apples, potato chips, homemade cookies, brown bags. Dinner: Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, blueberry pie.

You could eat off her floor, and the laundry baskets never overflowed. She was on the PTA and every church committee; she was the mama all the other girls wished they had. June Cleaver had nothing on her.

Mama hated every minute of it.

Looking back, Tami thinks that’s because she didn’t have any choice in the matter; that if that was the life Mama had chosen, she might have loved it.

Tami loved Julie’s growing up years and the keeping the house and the cooking and running errands and being room-mother for Julie’s elementary school classes. She always felt a bit ashamed of that, like that meant she’d given up on the dreams she had when she was still a girl with no husband, daughter, mortgage, responsibilities.

But now she looks back on that time and sees it as a sort of preparation: years of pouring love and strength into Julie so that when the time came for her daughter to grow up, she’d know who she was. Years of forming that foundation for their marriage so that she can stand in the driveway and watch his SUV pull out of the driveway, bound for Austin, and she can sleep by herself at night without crying (most of the time). Years of paying attention to life around her—other people’s mistakes, other people’s choices—so that she’ll know what to tell scared and lonely and desperate teenagers with some sort of authority. Years of learning to multitasking and juggling a million things at once and still have time to curl up with a book at night. Years of learning to be herself.

Today she prayed forty-seven times, nearly lost her temper four times, and cried once.

Most of her prayers are of the simple Good Lord, please give me patience variety. Even when she and Julie had breakfast this morning and chatted about dance class, she was inwardly praying Lord, keep her safe, a barely conscious prayer, one that’s as much a part of her as breathing, less a verbal plea than an overwhelming rush of love and protectiveness toward her little girl. Running late to school, she absently asked God to let her hit green lights and later, at lunch, mentally gave grace as she’d been taught since before she could actually speak the words.

But after Sadie Griffin finally left, taking her the crisis pregnancy center fliers with her, Tami collapsed into her chair and begged the Lord to look after that girl and all the girls out in the hallways with their breakable hearts and all the boys with their fragile egos and the parents who are too hard or who aren’t around and most of all, that God would give Tami herself the strength to say the right thing and be who she needed to be for these kids.

Buddy Garrity called, wanting to know what the Taylors had heard about the new coach. Then it was the mayor, asking if she’d please show up at the rally Friday night. Julie talked back while the meatloaf was burning in the oven, and then Eric had to leave to head back to Austin—big game this weekend—and her loneliness came back to her. She bit her tongue so hard that she was sure it would bleed. For each one, its own prayer.

Somehow, there’s grace always just within reach, and she makes it through.

Today she threw up once, had two bizarre cravings (Brussels sprouts at 9:27 AM and oranges dipped in peanut butter at 4:02 P.M.), had to go to the bathroom nine times, and felt the baby kick twice.

Julie wasn’t planned, not exactly—they hadn’t sat down and had the “I think we’re ready to try for children” conversation—but she had been part of the plan from the beginning and they were couldn’t have been happier at the surprise. Julie came so easy—even her labor was easy, only three hours and then all the pain was melted away.

Julie was such a good baby; she spent most of her time staring around her with huge, solemn eyes. But when she did cry, she let loose till everyone was pretty sure they could hear her in Maine—and maybe Alaska. Eric would call home to their tiny apartment (an assistant coach and driver’s ed teacher doesn’t make nearly enough money) and ask her what she was doing. Holding our baby, she would say.

They thought it would be so easy after that. Julie was two when they decided she needed a little brother or sister (she knew that Eric secretly wanted a boy next, though Julie was his princess). The first year, they didn’t worry—they had time. By the third year, she sometimes had to lock the door when she took showers so that Eric wouldn’t come in and hear her sobs.

The fifth year was the only time in her life that she really, truly failed her family. The time after the miscarriage was hell, but there are two things she’s thankful for: that Julie was too young to really remember her mom curled up in bed for days on end and that Eric convinced her to get up again (she finally saw that his eyes held just as much pain as hers). They tried again after that, but she was so scared to love and lose again. It didn’t seem worth the risk.

Now, when she feels the baby kick or picks out a new changing table or listens to Julie prattling on about what she’ll teach her little sister, she knows it’s always worth the risk. Always.

Today she braided Julie's hair once, washed three loads of clothes, had two conversations about Matt Saracen, and told her daughter she loved her seven times.

She looks at her daughter's eyes and is scared to death that Julie will make the same mistakes she did—the ones that left her hardened and jaded on the outside, completely shattered on the inside—the ones that only the last seventeen years with Eric have been able to heal. Eric wasn’t the first, and she can’t ignore the memories, though she can’t bring herself to think his name, even after all these years (it took Eric so long to figure out why she shied away from his touch at first, even if he quickly taught her how to melt). Matt’s a good boy and would never hurt Julie on purpose, but a person doesn’t have to try in order to break you.

She would do anything to keep Julie from that pain, only there’s no such thing as shelter now. Sometimes she looks in the mirror, sees the fear in her own eyes, and doesn’t recognize herself. Because Julie may be smart and mature and responsible and self-confident, but she’s a girl and by definition susceptible to anything she thinks is going to bring her love.

Ultimately, it comes down to faith. Faith in the person that Julie is, in the person that she and Eric created, the person they raised and taught and loved and did their best to do right by.

And when Julie crawls in bed with her tonight after Eric leaves to drive back to Austin, giggling like a little girl, I came to keep you company, Mom, and whispers about her dreams and her day tomorrow and the person she wants to be and, yes, even Matt, Tami closes her eyes and smiles and breathes.

Today Eric told her he loved her four times, picked a fight with her once, and gave her thirteen kisses.

She remembers the early days, sixteen years old and finally admitting to herself that Eric Taylor, football star, might not be the arrogant jackass she wanted to think of him as (high school is so much easier to survive when you can pigeonhole and label people): back behind the bleachers after practice, kissing and laughing and talking about everything and nothing. It was magic or something like it, magic that's long ago given way to carpools and grocery lists.

She thinks that maybe what she's got now is better. He kisses her whenever he walks into a room and finds her there, whenever a little disagreement seems to be devolving into something messier, whenever she makes him really look at her. Some women would see that sort of absentmindedness as life having all the romance sucked out of it, but to her it's life itself. She's invaded him, she's in his bones, and he doesn't have to search for reasons to love her or want her or respect her—they're part of each other. Sixteen years old can't even begin to imagine how intensely beautiful that is.

And the hundreds of miles of Texas dust and sky that separate them can’t begin to touch it.

Today, she was a wife, a mother, a guidance counselor, a campaign manager, a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand, a chef, a chauffer, a secretary, peacemaker, a confidant.

Today she was a woman

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Ah, that was a superb portrait of Tami - and I loved how you wrote it in a series of little vignettes with flashbacks. I think this is exactly what the core of Tami Taylor is - from the homecoming queen to the stay at home mother to the guidance counselor... Really lovely.

Thank you so much!

I think this is exactly what the core of Tami Taylor is - from the homecoming queen to the stay at home mother to the guidance counselor. That's exactly what i was trying to get at.

I appreciate your review so much!

She's invaded him, she's in his bones, and he doesn't have to search for reasons to love her or want her or respect her—they're part of each other. *is bawling now*

They are so adorable I can't stand it. This was really really lovely and we can all just hope to be as awesome Tami Taylor when we grow up.

I'm so happy you're writing FNL now. Because damn.

They are adorable! I mean, honestly: how could they not be your OTP?

I am so glad you liked it. And I'm getting really excited about writing in this fandom, so expect more.

Always great to get reviews from you!

Today, she was a wife, a mother, a guidance counselor, a campaign manager, a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand, a chef, a chauffer, a secretary, peacemaker, a confidant.

Today she was a woman
________________

And there you have in one simple little paragraph what makes Tami Taylor so awesome.

Amazing characterization.

Thank you so much. I'm so glad you thought so.

This was a gorgeous portrait of Tami. It's so exquisitely well rounded and fleshed out! I love that you show that Julie and Eric and the baby are most important, but there's still room for her to love the high schoolers she counsels and the job and her life.

The counting at the start of each section was such a lovely way to frame it, and I really liked the Mary Chapin Carpenter lyrics. Thank you for posting!

That is indeed the amazing thing about Tami--that she has enough heart and enough time for all these other people in her life, while still being a fantastic wife and mother.

Thank you so much for your kind words!

Absolutely gorgeous. Tami Taylor is extraordinary and yet ordinary and you totally explained why. I think the end is just beautiful.

Thanks so much! I think you're exactly right--she is extraordinary and ordinary all at the same time--that's the heart of it.

Thanks so much for reviewing, and I'm glad you liked it!

Tami is far too awesome and amazing. When she and Tyra have Scenes together, it's almost too much. But I digress.

I really don't have too much time to review--I'm actually supposed to be in bed right now, or at least doing my readings for school, but I wanted to drop a line--very nice job with this. Excellent look at Tami's character :)

Right. And now back to Constantine's conversion and crim stats :P

I know! She and Tyra are my favorites, too. And I love their scenes, especially when Tami's trying to push Tyra to make her see that she can be so much more than she's letting herself be.

Thanks so much! As always, a kind word from you means a lot. Hope your studying's going okay!

Wow. That left me speechless. That was the core of Tami Taylor I believe. That is a woman to aspire to right there. Gorgeous work. I loved it! :)

Thank you so much! I appreciate your encouraging words so much!

You know what I thought when I saw your icon? "Hey, look! It's Donna!" Then I realized that it's probably from that other show she was in that I can't remember the name of.

hehe it's October Road :) Which I LOVED. Sorta cheesy writing (nothing like FNL) but it was cute. You're welcome! That really was an amazing piece. I memed it.

Now I remember. My roommate last year was kind of addicted to it, so she always had it on while I was studying and stuff.

I'm very flattered that you liked it enough to mem it.

You should totally write a Coach fic like that one. That'd be very interesting. That or a Matt fic :)

I'm actually working on a Tyra one now. But I think it would be fun to do a companion piece on Coach. I'll keep that in mind.

And Lord help Matt Saracen if I ever write about him. I adore the boy, but I seem to have this problem: when I really love a guy character, I tend to break them. A lot. And the last thing lovely Matt needs is more breaking.

But thanks! (And that doesn't mean "no" to the whole Matt thing, by the way...)

yeah I can see the point there :D Poor baby doesn't need anymore breaking, he's had a hard year! Oy. I really need a lot of Matt/Julie this season though! It's going to be very strange having to wait a week in between. I got spoiled having bought the dvds and getting to watch several in a row! Ooh, cannot wait for the Tyra fic! She's a very interesting character and has become a favorite over the last half of the season.

Poor baby is right. The things that boy has to deal with. And I agree about the Matt and Julie-ness--they are so insanely cute together.

I watched the show on the website, all in a row, this summer, so I'm going to have a hard time getting used to this waiting a week thing, too.

It might be awhile before the Tyra fic is posted, because I'm insanely busy with school right now. But she's become one of my favorites, too, though I sort of hated her during the first several episodes. I think most people are coming around to liking her, and that's exciting.

This is so superbly introspective; I love how you draw out the details of her progression from youth to adult, and craft her into a rounded 3D character all at once.

And the hundreds of miles of Texas dust and sky that separate them can’t begin to touch it.

This is a lovely sentence.

Thanks so much! Most of what I write tends to be introspective, and sometimes I feel like I'm just stringing cliches together, so it's very encouraging to know that the characterization worked for you, especially considering how strong of a person Tami is. Thanks again!

WOW, this was just really incredible to read. Awesome, awesome story.

Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it!

Found this through a

halfamoon rec and it's gorgeous! Such a full portrait of Tami, and really captures what I love most about her: it is the fact that she has chosen this life that makes her love it, and that makes me love her in it. And that last section about Tami and Eric just perfectly captures why I love that relationship as well. Love this!

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Fic: Number Line

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