Nicest Kids in Town

At the sound of the outburst, every eye turned towards the door. A gracefully aging woman had staggered through the door clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand. Oliver rolled her eyes before walking slowly towards the woman.

"Mother, How did you know that we were here?" Oliver asked, somewhat sympathetic.

"Oh please, you don't think that your little director wouldn't tell me where my own son is? You've got to be shitting me." Christine and Jordan sat back on the couch, looking the woman over. Her medium length wavy hair and bright chestnut colored eyes clearly gave away that she was Oliver's mother. "So where is the Harlot who killed my husband?" Jordan looked to Christine sadly.

"Mother hush. No one killed father. He committed suicide. Now please will you come sit down? I'll make you some tea." He urged, trying to usher his drunk mother over to the dining table. She shook her head no, stubbornly.

"British people actually drink tea?" Kimmy whispered to Elijah. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards the door.

"We're going to go have lunch. We'll be back later." Kimmy then poked her head in the door before it shut.

"Cheerio loves!" She cheered in her best attempt at a British accent, which she failed miserably at.

"You know, You yanks will never get the accent right. No matter how hard you try, It'll never work!" Oliver's mother slurred. Oliver just groaned as he handed her a rather large cup of hot tea. "Good lord Oliver! What are you trying to do? Drown me?" Oliver shook his head no as he walked towards the couch, muttering under his breath.

"No, if I was trying to do that it would have been a bathtub of tea." Christine and Jordan snickered, actually hearing him. His mother caught the tail end of it however.

"A bathtub of tea? Now why on earth would you need a bathtub of tea?" She then noticed how Oliver had slung his arm over Christine's shoulders. "Who are you? What is your purpose here?"

"Mother, this is Christine Friis. She's my girlfriend." A soft glare washed over her face as she stared at Christine. Christine sunk in, trying to hide behind both Jordan and Oliver. "Christine, this is my mother---"

"Sarah Tompsett. Remember the name love." Christine nodded.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Christine mumbled.

"Don't mumble dear, it makes you seem less intelligent that you appear." Jordan's eyes widened in anger, but Zac's hand on her shoulder stopped her from pouncing. Christine stood up, staring down at Oliver.

"Oliver, Can I please talk to you in the bedroomNow?!" Oliver nodded as he followed swiftly behind Christine into their room.

"Alone in the bedroom already? My, My, couples these days are jumping in the sack early now aren't they?" Christine groaned and slammed the door. She then turned, glaring at Oliver.

"This wasn't how I expected you to meet her. She's really a lovely woman." Christine shook her head.

"The woman hates me! She knows that your father hated me, so automatically; She hates me." Oliver came over, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"That's not true. My father didn't hate you, My mother doesn't hate you. She's drunk! Hell! You should have seen her last Christmas! A blatant mess! This is a bad time for her. My father just committed suicide. He was the only one who ever loved my mother. Now that he's gone, she's scared." Oliver sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "My mother is one of those people who needs to know that she is loved everyday. Now without my father, I don't know what she'll do. Yes, I know that my father wasn't the most liked manbut at least he had my mother and that's all that he needed." Christine smirked understandingly, sitting down next to him.

"I guess I understand. Oliver, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be such a bitch towards her." Oliver nodded.

"She can be a bit annoying at times. I wasn't kidding about that whole drowning her in a bathtub of tea. It'd probably be her favorite way to die." He lightly chucked to himself. The thought of his mother in a bathtub full of English black tea was enough to bring a smile to his gloomy face. Christine smiled as she brought her hand underneath his chin, bringing his smiling face up to greet hers. "What?"

"It's just nice to see you smiling again. Even if it is because of the thought of drowning your mother in tea." They both laughed cheerfully. Oliver's laugh was better than any music Christine had ever heard. It truly was music to her ears. Oliver stood up, gliding his arm around Christine's shoulders and kissing her temple gently.

"Shall we go back out there and save Zac and Jordan from the torture of a grieving woman?" Rolling her eyes, Christine nodded.

"I doubt that Jordan will have any trouble with her. British people are her specialty." The door opened as they walked back into the living room where Jordan was now rubbing the back of Sarah as she sobbed into her lap. Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan noticed the couple appear back in the room. She shot Christine a pitifully pleading look as if to say 'Get her off me!'. Christine nodded and nudged Oliver towards the couch. He crouched down in front of Sarah, brushing the waves of her hair out of her eyes.

"Mother, come now. Lets go get you cleaned up and then you and I will go down to the pub where I'll join you as you try to drink your troubles away." Sarah refused, sitting up and wiping away the smudged eyeliner from her graceful eyes.

"I've given up drinking. Your father never liked when I would have a drink, so I quit on his behalf. Even though he's gone, I can feel the criticism every time I even look at a pint." Oliver sadly smiled at his widowed mother. He was her best friend through his childhood and the one he looked up to. Once his father started to get jobs as a choreographer, he wasn't home much; So Oliver took over the duties of man of the house and making sure his mother was always loved.

"How about a trip to Kensington park? You can sit by the pond and watch the swans." At the talk of swans, Sarah bore her eyes deep into those of her sons; tears outlining the rims.

"Your father was as graceful as a swan." Oliver agreed.

"Yet you were always as beautiful as one." Sarah smirked, thinking of the times when her and Christophe were only courting.

"I wasn't always like this. He used to call me his little ugly duckling." She chuckled. Christine smiled as Oliver's mother remembered the memories. Zac placed his hands on Jordan's shoulders, feeling a love story coming on. "I was the ugliest girl in our boarding school. Everyone knew it. My hair was frizzy and dull. I had huge coke bottle glasses and true British teeth. My clothes were always ragged and un-ironed. Lets just say, I didn't get many dates during that time." Oliver smiled, leaning his arms on his mothers lap like he used to when she would tell him stories when he was smaller. Sarah smiled, smoothing his hair back gently as she continued her story. "There was a end of the year Ball. Everyone was to wear lovely formal wear and have a date. I hated the Ball. I never got invited to it every year, for good reason though. That is, until your father came up to me while I was getting my book from my locker before my English class. He came up, wrapped his arm around my shoulder and asked if he could escort me to the ball. Of course, me being apprehensive that anyone would ever like me, I said no. Thing was, he looked genuinely disappointed. A few days later I was walking home and your Aunt Claire came up to me, begging me to reconsider on my answer for her brother. I still refused. She asked if it was because I didn't have anything to wear and things like that. So just to get her off my back I said yes. That's when she offered to give me a complete makeover for the ball, that isif I said yes to go to the ball with Christophe." Jordan smiled, holding onto Zac's hand a little tighter. He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "So the night of the ball, Claire came over and gave me a head to toe makeover. It was insane. I had never pampered like that before. By the time she was done, she considered me gorgeous. So I walked down into the parlor room where Christophe was waiting with a bouquet of beautiful peach roses for me. It was funny. I walked in and he dropped the flowers to the ground, his eyes were bugging out of his head and his mouth had dropped to the floor. That's when I knew I was in love with him. At the dance, he asked me to be his love for all time. Said that he wouldn't ever let the Ugly Duckling be courted by any other men. I was the ugly duckling, we won king and queen of the Ball. Now I'm a swan, but only to him will I always be his Ugly Duckling." Oliver smiled and wiped away the tears that his mother had shed during the heart-warming story.

"That was beautiful Sarah." Christine commented as she walked over and sat next to her on the couch. "He spoke of you often, sang of you, dreamed of you. He talked in his sleep and all he would say was 'I love you my little duck.' I had no idea what it meant then. I thought he was insane, dreaming of marrying ducks or something." Sarah laughed gently. "but now I know that it was you. His little duck." Sarah nodded. She then looked down to Oliver.

"I'd like to go see the Swans now." Oliver nodded and stood up, offering his hand to his mother. She walked over to pick up her effects before heading towards the door. Oliver kissed Christine quickly.

"Will you go over to the funeral home and prepare some things for me? I have to prepare my mother for this, it's going to be harder one she sees the swans." Christine nodded, as did Zac and Jordan.

"Take you time. We'll have everything ready by the time you get back." Oliver nodded and kissed her again.

"I love you." Christine nodded.

"I love you too. Now go comfort your mother and yourself." Oliver chuckled and walked out of the hotel room with his mother. That's when Christine knew, Oliver's mother wasn't a SwanShe was a lovebird and now that her mate was gone; who knew what was to become of the widowed lovebird.