Idols | LisRene (Revised Version)

Several years later...

IRENE

Life has a way of folding into itself—seasons passing, laughter echoing through hallways, little conflicts forgotten in the comfort of everyday love. Before I knew it, the toddler who once clung to Lisa's shirt hem at night is now eleven, long-limbed and sharp-tongued in a way that makes me feel both proud and terrified.

Rene comes barreling into the living room, her schoolbag barely clinging to her shoulder. "Mom! Mama! Guess what—" she starts, then immediately drops the bag to the floor with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh. School was so boring today."

I raise an eyebrow from the couch. "You said that yesterday. And the day before."

"That's because it's true every day." She flops down beside me, all elbows and legs, reminding me so much of Lisa at that age it's almost scary.

Speak of the devil—Lisa walks in from the balcony, still on a work call with someone from LLOUD. Her voice is clipped, efficient, the exact opposite of her tone when she's home with us. Rene watches her for a moment, then leans toward me conspiratorially.

"She's being scary again."

I bite back a laugh. "That's your mama's serious voice. Don't let it fool you."

Lisa ends the call with a sigh and tosses her phone onto the counter. "Did I hear someone say I'm scary?"

Rene grins mischievously. "Only when you're not paying attention to me."

I watch as Lisa's mock offense melts almost instantly. She drops onto the couch, pulling Rene into a headlock and ruffling her hair. "Excuse me, I pay attention to you all the time! Who drove you to practice last night? Who bought you ice cream even though Mommy said no?"

"That's different," Rene protests, giggling as she tries to wriggle free. "That was bribery."

I shake my head at both of them, heart full. Even with the chaos of Lisa's company and the whirlwind of raising a pre-teen, these are the moments that stitch us together—the little dramas, the playful banter, the way love lingers even when tested.

And as I look at them, Lisa's laughter mixing with Rene's shrieks. I realize that despite the challenges, despite the jealousy tiffs and late-night debates and heavy workloads, this is exactly the life I had once only dreamed of.

****

Later that week, I noticed Rene dragging her feet more than usual after school. Normally, she bursts through the door with dramatic stories about her classmates or complaints about cafeteria food. But today, she just drops her bag by the door and heads straight to her room without a word.

I exchange a look with Lisa, who's half-distracted by her laptop. She raises an eyebrow as if to ask, Should I go? I shake my head. Sometimes, Lisa's playful approach works, but other times, it just makes Rene clam up.

I knock gently before peeking into her room. She's sprawled face-down on the bed, uniform still on, hair hiding her face.

"Sweetheart?" I ask softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She mumbles something into the pillow.

"What was that?"

Finally, she rolls over with a heavy sigh. "Everyone thinks I'm weird."