1.13 The Roth Institute of Arts and Crafts

Previously...

Primrose ends her relationship with Bella, because she has realized that she is actually straight. But despite this, Deric still seems to be mad at her, and to spite him as well as her mother, she goes out with the older man Don Lothario. But the date is cut short as her mother calls with horrible news that Mort has passed away. As the burial approaches, Primrose realizes that her mother is loosing her grip on reality, asking for Mort and not knowing where she is. But for the funeral she is back to normal and the gathering of people have a small but loving ceremony. Deric also is there, to support Primrose.

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As time wore on, the loss of Mort subsided somewhat, and Amelia and Primrose went back to their lives, trying to be grateful for the time they had had with Mort instead of mourning that he wasn't with them now. Life almost went back to normal. But what had changed was the relationship between mother and daughter.

Grief somehow seemed to have brought them closer together and for the first time in her life Amelia felt that her daughter trusted her. And Primrose could now see that her mother possessed a strength that she had never considered before. When Mort had passed Amelia had taken the reins of Mineor Incorporated without blinking, and even though it was visibly painful for her to go in and sit at his old desk in the big office, she did it day after day without complaining.

Conference calls or company e-mails from home, however, were very rare nowadays, it was obvious that she wanted to leave work at work. She was getting old and tired. Sometimes Primrose even thought of suggesting retirement, though she never dared to bring it up. But the company noticed too. As Amelia started having more and more “bad days”, they were forced to put an entire staff team in place to proof read Amelia's e-mails and letters, cover for her when she was wasn't feeling well, and do all the press meetings as she just wasn't reliable anymore.
“She's not mad, she's just forgetful!” Primrose would protest, but she knew just as well as they did that soon the company would not benefit from having her mother as its CEO anymore. She avoided talking to her mother about her condition, especially on the days when she was herself. They acted as if everything was perfectly normal. But one day Primrose just couldn't take it anymore. She had found her mother perched on the hill in the backyard, in only her underwear.

Amelia had rejoiced as she saw her daughter and told her she hadn't been able to find her way home. This had happened before. Sometimes she was in the third floor bathroom. Sometimes in the garage. But this was the last straw. She could have frozen to death out there if she'd fallen asleep! Primrose still refused the idea of getting help to watch her mother, or put her in a home, but this just wasn't sustainable any longer. Something had to change. In the evening Amelia seemed to be back to normal, and the two of them were cooking together in the kitchen.

“Mom.” Primrose started carefully. “I know you don't like to talk about this, but we have to. You're not well.” She waited. Her mother cleared her throat and kept stirring the pancake batter.

“I don't want you to get hurt, mom, but I want you to stay with me too. I can't keep track of you all the time. I think we should sell the house.”

The fight that had ensued the conversation in the kitchen had been ongoing for days. But when Amelia finally gave in, after slipping and almost hitting her head on the pool ledge, calm was restored in the house and the two women were now united in the search for a suitable home.

“Look for a pretty small one.” Primrose said as she sat looking at the computer screen over her mother's shoulder. “There's just the two of us, we don't need all of these rooms we have now, it's just ridiculous.” Amelia agreed.
 “Oh, maybe we could move into an apartment?” Amelia asked with sparkling eyes. She knew how rare apartment buildings were in this town, but there were a few, and she had longed to live in one ever since she had moved from Bridgeport. Primrose thought this was a good idea, secretly thinking that it would be easier to make sure her mother was safe if there wasn't any grounds to take care of. But the hunt for a nice apartment or town house was trying. Most apartment ads they could find online were either sold already, or way too shabby and run down for their tastes.
“This one's got the most beautiful front.” Primrose exclaimed as she came by the ad of an apartment just outside of the city.

“Oh, but it's only got one bedroom. Damn.”
“Don't swear.”
“Sorry mom.”

After weeks of searching the internet and going to flat displays, Amelia and Primrose walked out of a big apartment building with dejection written on their faces.

This had been the last place on their list. They had looked at every single apartment that was on the market in Riverblossom Falls. And then Primrose saw it. A house right after her own heart, and her father's, had he been alive.

She was drawn to it like a moth to the flame and Amelia reluctantly followed with persistent questions of “Where are you going?” and “What are you doing, the car's that way?”. But Primrose didn't hear. All she was aware of was that this house was the place where she wanted to live.
 “Mom, we have to live here!” She cried out. Amelia looked up.

“Oh, honey, it's beautiful, but it's not for sale.”
“Yes, yes it is, look, moving boxes!” She pointed at a stack of boxes on the porch. Amelia had to admit that this looked promising, but it certainly didn't mean that the house was for sale, after all, they hadn't seen an ad for this place anywhere.
“Sweetie, this might well be someone moving in.” She said, but Primrose shook her head adamantly.
“No. Look, the curtains are still up. Curtains are one of the last things that people take down when they move, but it's certainly not the first thing they do when they move in, hanging up curtains. They focus on getting their furniture in place.” Amelia gaped at this statement. When had her daughter gotten so observant? The two of them went up to the door and knocked. A frail, old lady greeted them warmly and invited them inside as if they were dear friends.

An hour later Amelia and Primrose left with beaming faces. The old lady had, as unlikely as it was, turned out to be a childhood friend of Mort's, and even though she had intended to donate her little town house to a local homeless shelter for cats, she quickly changed her mind when she learned who her visitors were.

“Oh, of course you can buy it!” She had exclaimed gleefully. “You look so much like him. Primrose, is it? Beautiful. You're just as beautiful as your father.” Both Amelia and Primrose had had to frown at this. They had certainly loved Mort as much as humanly possible, but none of them could honestly have called him “beautiful”. But the house was theirs, and that was all that mattered.

A couple of months later, as they walked down the street from the realtor's office where they had just left the last set of keys to their old house, Primrose smiled at her mother and said:
“I think this will be good for us, mom.” Amelia nodded contently.
“Yes Prim, I think so too. That little house has got a piece of my heart already.” So the little family settled in without any major disputes or troubles, and life, once again, started going back to its normal, comfy pace. But before long there were new developments to stir the emotions. One afternoon when Primrose came home from school she found an envelope addressed to her in the mail.

That wasn't very common, so she quickly ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife to open it with. She didn't even take time to read the black stamp on the back that said “The Roth Institute of Arts and Crafts”.

“What's the matter, is something wrong?” Amelia asked as she came through the hallway and looked over the counter at her daughter.
She saw by Primrose's vacant expression that she was thinking hard about something, and in front of her lay a letter. Amelia glanced down at it. “Dear Miss Sterling” was written in swirly, neat letters at the top. Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Prim, what is this?” She gestured towards the letter. Without looking up, Primrose answered in an almost hollow voice.
“It's a letter from The Roth Institute of Arts and Crafts. They want me to transfer there.” Amelia clapped her hands together in delight and almost started hopping back and forth on her heels.
“Oh, Primrose, that is wonderful news! How did they hear about you? Maybe someone showed them a painting of yours? Oh, this is so exciting. Roth is a very good school, very good indeed. But-” She stopped abruptly. “Why are you looking so glum? Aren't you thrilled?”

Amelia couldn't understand why her daughter was so quiet and troubled-looking. These were the best news they had had in a long time.
“I'm sorry mom. I just don't know if I want to transfer. Uhm... I have to do some homework on the computer. I'll see you later.” But Primrose didn't do any homework. Instead she sat staring blankly at the screen.

She found herself in a real predicament. Her friendship with Deric had started up again after the funeral and they were enjoying getting to know each other all over again. In fact, she spent so much time with Deric these days that she barely hung out with her old girlfriends anymore and she could see in their eyes that they resented her for it. She didn't blame them. But she just couldn't forget the great kindness Deric had showed her at the funeral and she wanted to repay him. Making sure he wasn't lonely at school seemed like as good a way as any. How was she going to do that if she went to Roth? And what would Deric think, would he see it as another betrayal on her part? The thoughts of these fears were mingled with the exhilaration and elation of being offered a place at the legendary arts school that she had secretly dreamed of since she was nine. Now it was in her grasp, what she had barely dared to fantasize about was right in front of her, and she was about to turn it down. Or was she? The in-determination made her uneasy. Suddenly a window popped up on the screen and the bleeping sound told her she had gotten an IM.

“Deric: Hey Prim. Whatcha up to?” She sighed deeply. At least emotions were easier to hide over the internet than over the phone or, Maker forbid, face to face.
“Prim: Oh, nothing. Just being lazzzy. How's the French homework coming along?”
“Deric: How did you know I was working on it?”
“Prim: When would you ever sit by the computer for pleasure if you had homework to do?” This type of joking was okay between them now. Only a few weeks ago she wouldn't have dared to mock him, even for fun, for the fear of making him think she didn't like him. But just as she had anticipated, he replied with an equally saucy remark.
“Deric: Oh, and when have you ever done homework when you could be doing something else, huh?” Primrose smiled. He was so right. She had heaps of homework waiting in her backpack, but she just couldn't bring herself to do any of it. And besides, she had enough on her mind right now. Trying to cram elements' atomic numbers in there at this moment would just be overkill.

“Prim: Ha-frickin-ha. I'm gonna go for a walk, see you tomorrow. Don't forget to bring an extra pen to chemistry, you know I'm gonna forget mine! :P xoxo” With that she signed off, not waiting for a reply. That walk really did seem tempting and after a moment's deliberation she went down through the hallway and put her shoes on.
“Mom, I'm going for a walk, I'll be back before dinner!” She said, peaking inside the living room where her mother was watching TV, and went out the door.

The fresh air chilled her bare legs and arms, but she didn't mind. As she started walking she could feel the letter moving around in the back pocket of her shorts. And then she knew where to go.

“Dad.” She whispered as she slid down next to the dark stone that still looked brand new and gleamed in the light from the streetlamps.

“Dad, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need to talk. You always listened to me and even when you didn't tell me what to do, I could kind of make my own decision better after getting it all out. So... I have this dilemma. Roth wants me. Me. You know how much I've always wanted to go there.” She pulled the somewhat crumpled letter out and laid it between herself and her father's headstone, smoothing it out fondly with her fingertips. “They think it would be best if I started right now. That way I can make up for lost time quickly since the semester's just started. I really want to go. It could open so many doors for me, and I would get so much more practice. I think I could really go to the next level with my painting if I went there. But Deric... I've just found my way back to him and I don't want to lose him again. He means so much to me, I didn't even realize-” A twig cracked somewhere behind her and she stopped talking and turned her head quickly, peering into the dark.

She heard steps in the grass and then a man came into view between the trees. He opened the gate to the fence that surrounded the family plots. It was Deric. Primrose stood up as if she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. He came closer.
“How did you know I was here?” She asked abruptly. Deric smiled softly and shrugged.
“Had a hunch.” They stared at each other in silence for a while. Deric was the first to speak.
“Are you talking to your father?” Primrose blushed. It seemed so silly now that he said it. Of course her father couldn't hear her. He was dead. But she gave a subtle nod and stared at her feet. She felt stupid.

“Did it help?” The question startled her a bit and she looked up at him with questioning eyes, but he looked perfectly serious.
“I don't know.” Then Deric's eyes fell on the piece of paper on the ground. Primrose saw, but before she could say or do anything, Deric had picked it up with an inquiring “What is this?”. He read the first few lines, squinting to make out the letters in the dark.
“Oh, Prim.” His voice was full of awe. “This is amazing. This school is really exclusive, isn't it?” Primrose nodded.
“But I don't know if I'm gonna say yes.” She added quickly. “I don't have any friends there and...” She trailed off. This had been her only, feeble idea of hinting at the actual problem. And miraculously, Deric understood.
“We can still see each other after school. And Roth is just outside of town, we could probably have lunch together if we met halfway.” His face was honest and serious.
“Are you sure?” She whispered. He took her face in his hands and nodded.

At the touch Primrose felt a fluttering right below her belly. Her eyelashes, too, fluttered uncontrollably for a moment before she checked herself and looked into his eyes with, what she hoped was, a neutral smile.

And so Primrose transferred to a school that was both famous and prestigious. The pressure was on. As she walked into the school grounds on her first day, she looked reverently around and at the same time she felt very sick.

Was this really for her? But the school turned out to be a very nice place after all. The teachers were fair, albeit assertive, but they all took to Primrose because of her natural talent and willingness to learn. The other students were nice too, but she never really got to know any of them. Somehow it seemed as though she had checked out of friendships a little bit. Maybe she didn't want Deric to have rivals, or maybe she was just tired of the girl clique scene. She didn't really know herself. Amelia, of course, was thrilled about it all and bragged to anyone who would listen about her talented daughter who had been personally requested by The Roth Institute of Arts and Crafts. Of course that was always the way they enlisted new students, but that was beside the point, she thought. Even on her bad days, when she had trouble remembering that her husband was gone, and that her daughter wasn't a toddler anymore, a mention of Roth would always bring her back for at least a few minutes.

Primrose didn't really date anyone in the months after her father's death. So her mother was very surprised to see her one evening getting ready for a night on the town. She didn't dare ask outright about it, though.
“Going out with the girls?” Amelia asked in passing, as if she wasn't very interested.

“Nah, I'm going on a date, actually. I'll be home before midnight, though, I promise.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her clutch and walking out into the chilly evening breeze.

Don was waiting for her just around the corner with a wide smile on his lips.

She could see that he had missed her, and it made her happy. What she couldn't see was the small plastic bag in his pocket containing a white powder that made you docile, and forgetful.

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Dun-dun-duuun! Cliffhanger! This chapter was so much fun to write! I wrote it in a couple of hours, but since then I’ve been playing with different ways of telling it, throwing bits and pieces around and it’s just been very enjoyable.


The real reason Amelia and Prim had to move was that my saved games broke. Eventually I managed to save the family, but the lot was bugged beyond repair. Very sad to see it go, I was proud of that house, but I rather like this storyline actually, so something good came out of it. I downloaded the new house from MTS (link available on the “CC Credits” page) and I’m just completely in love with it. It has such character.


Okay, I’m gonna stop rambling now and let you look at the outtakes. I’ve finally figured out how to have them in the actual post, so here’s to hoping it all works the way I want it to. Please let me know if the button below doesn’t work or if something seems to be wrong.


/Alexandra

"Oh no, a dead body on the ground! No, wait, it's just a vampire taking a nap."

This is what Prim looks like without hair that covers her monstrous jaw. Isn't it just gruesome?

I saw a balloon and wanted to know who were in it. I half expected Bella Goth!

This is an aereal picture of the center of Riverblossom Falls, including the new Sterling residence.

Primrose woke up one morning with the urge to learn gardening, so I thought "why not"?, and she now has a little vegetable garden in front of the house.

You can't feel safe anywhere, not even a couple of blocks from the police station.

 I don't know what Carmine is doing here, but it sure looks painful. And poor Tilly! This picture is from a "come look at our new house"-party. Everyone were there!

 Apparently, this is what happens when you make teenagers do child poses.

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Points
Legacy: 2
Lifetime Wishes: 1
Careers: 2
Skills: 0.5

Penalties
Other: 10 (moving Tilly and Carl in)

TOTAL: – 4.5