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Reeling in the Years	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 5080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or its characters and I am not profiting from this story in any way.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Lyrics to Be-Bop-A-Lula by Gene Vincent (kind of. 1956)
"Come on," Luna said, handing Daggy the guitar, "don't be a chicken."
He took it and sat it on his lap, giving her a sidelong glance. She giggled. "Let me hear."
"I know one song," he said.
They were sitting on the porch swing still, the afternoon light growing weak around them. Luna had somehow lost track of time, but whatever, she was having fun. "What song?" she asked.
Daggy took a deep breath and leaned over, his fingers lightly strumming the strings.
"Are you going to sing too?" she asked.
"Yeah, why not?" he said. "I'm better at singing than I am at playing guitar." He fiddled with the tuning machines and picked the strings, his head cocked as if listening for the perfect pitch.
"Stop stalling!"
"I'm trying to get it right!"
Luna crossed her arms. "You're stalling, man. You're chicken."
Daggy sighed, his face flushing cutely. "Alright, alright, fine." He took another deep breath and started to play, his fingers moving unsurely along the frets. She recognized the tune, though.
"Wellll...be-bop-a-Lula she's my baby
Be-bop-a-Lula I don't mean maybe."
Luna laughed. His playing was bad, but his voice was kind of nice. He gave her a dirty look, but he couldn't hold it and grinned instead. "Come on, don't make fun of me."
"No," Luna said, waving her hand, "you're fine. I like your voice. Keep going."
He nodded and strummed.
"Be-bop-a-Lula she's my baby." He favored her with a sly, sidelong look. "Be-bop-a-Luna I don't mean maybe."
Luna lost it. "Stop! Stop! You're making me blush, man."
"Yeah?" he asked.
"I was wondering if you were trying to put the moves on me."
He shrugged. "Maybe. Is it working?"
Luna paused a second before she nodded. "Yeah, it kind of is."
He grinned. "Cool." Another melodic strum:
"Be-bop-a-Luna she's my baby doll
My baby doll, my baby doll."
She shook her head and snickered to herself. Her cheeks were hot and her heart was starting to beat faster. He was a pretty sweet guy. "You're not bad." What exactly she was referring to she didn't know.
He handed her the guitar. "I don't really like my voice, but other people say it's okay."
"It's not bad," she said. "Kinda pretty."
"Pretty? That's not something you call a man's voice."
She giggled. "Alright. It's...I dunno...handsome?"
"I guess that's better," he said. He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt. "Hey, you, uh, you ever smoke reefer?" He took out a strange looking cigarette and held it up.
Luna knew roundabout what reefer was: Lucy and the other beatniks talked about it, and she thought she saw people smoking it at a party once. Everything she knew about it came from a film they showed in school – a scary, scary film. "No," she said, "that's bad stuff, man."
"No, it's not," Daggy said.
Luna cocked her brow dangerously.
"Honest," Daggy said, "it's not even as bad as getting drunk. You've been drunk, right?"
"A couple times."
"Reefer's different. Drinking makes you get all...energetic. Reefer mellows you out. And it's not addictive or anything."
"I heard bad stuff about it," she said.
"It's bullshit. You heard bad stuff about rock and roll, right? My rabbi said it was gonna turn everyone gay. I listen to it and I'm hitting on a girl right now, aren't I?"
Luna laughed despite herself.
"Come on, just try it, huh? A little bit."
"Alright," she relented. He had a point.
He put the cigarette into his mouth and patted his pants pockets. "Uh, we should probably do this in my car. Your folks might know what it is."
He got up and went down the stairs. Luna laid the guitar down on the swing and followed. "If this is some ploy to get me to go cruising with you..." she said as they crossed the front yard...it might work.
Daggy held up his hands and glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, I'm not playing games. I swear. We can smoke then you can go inside and chill out if you want. I just, uh...I just dig hanging with you."
She blushed. "Yeah, I kinda dig hanging with you too."
In the car, Daggy rolled his window down and Luna rolled hers down. He turned the key and the radio came on. The President was talking about the moon. Daggy took a lighter from his pocket, sparked it, and held it to the tip of the cigarette. "I smoke this stuff when I have trouble sleeping," he said as weird smelling smoke filled the air. He inhaled deeply, held it, then let it out with a cough. "Better than whiskey. You don't get hung over or anything."
He passed it to Luna. She took it, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger the way he had. "You sure this stuff is okay, man?"
"It's fine, I swear to God."
She lifted it to her lips and inhaled: The smoke rolled harshly into her lungs, and she coughed. "Jesus, this stuff is rank."
Daggy laughed. "Yeah, it's kinda of rough when you're not used to it. Take another hit and hold it."
Luna took another puff, and fought to keep the smoke in her bursting lungs. When she could take no more, she blew it out and coughed again. She handed it back to him, and he took another puff. She could feel something starting to happen: A feeling like warm wool settled over her brain and her body began to tingle. Her vision grew fuzzy at the edges, and soon it was like she was seeing the world for the first time.
"How you like it?" he asked and handed her the cigarette.
She nodded. "Not bad." She took another puff and held it, longer this time. She passed it back, and he pinched it out with his thumb and forefinger.
For a minute, neither of them spoke, and Luna's ears rang at just how quiet it was. "You wanna cruise?" he asked.
"Sure," she said.
"Cool," he said.
Soon, they were driving aimlessly through town, and everything looked so much...brighter but somehow softer. The wind caressed her face, and she closed her eyes. The music on the radio filled her, and she started to bob her head, visions of fun, dancing, and happiness flickering through her mind. That's what she wanted to do: Make people happy and want to dance. Music is a unifying force, you know? It brings people together. When you're seeing Elvis or Chuck Berry, no one's black, no one's white, everyone just is, and that's really nice. The world needs more of that and less of, like, the KKK and shit.
She felt warm and cozy and almost like she was flying. "I like this," she said.
"Told you," Daggy said.
For a long time she rode the tide of her high...then she opened her eyes and looked over at him, studying his angular face, his tight curls, his knobby Adam's apple. She felt a twinge in her loins, and was shocked to find herself really thinking about doing him. "Hey," she said.
"Huh?" he asked, glancing over.
"I'm kind of hungry." Something – she couldn't say what – struck her as funny, and she started to laugh.
Daggy grinned. "Yeah, it'll do that to you. You wanna grab something at Flip's?"
"Yeah," she said, "ice cream sounds good."
"Yeah, it does," Daggy agreed.
When they parked and she got out, Luna almost fell down. Walking was hard, and she felt like one wrong move would send her crashing into something like a bull in a China shop. Inside, Flip was behind the counter, and when he saw them, he rolled his eyes. "Santiago said you'd be in. I was hoping he was wrong."
"Hello to you too, Flip," Daggy said and held his hand up. Luna went to the first booth she saw and sat. Daggy slid in across from her. A waitress came over, and while Luna stared out the window, he ordered ice cream and two Coca-Colas. "You said you play parties," Daggy said, "they ever pay you?"
Luna nodded. "I got one coming up this weekend. I don't know what they're paying me, though. I don't really care, I'm just trying to make people happy, you know?" She turned to him, and he nodded.
"That's good. So much bad shit out there, you know, do something nice."
"Exactly, yeah," she said. Man, this guy got it. "That's what music's supposed to do. You wanna get depressed, read the news."
They both laughed until tears rolled down their faces. "Hey, goofballs!" Flip called out, "turn it down."
"I don't know why I'm laughing," Luna said, "that's not funny."
"It's the reefer," Daggy said lowly, "it makes you laugh at stupid shit."
"I bet it'll make my sister's jokes better."
"Probably. She joke around a lot?"
Luna shrugged. "She tries. She's not very good, though. She makes all kinds of silly puns. Like, uh..." she looked around for something to make a pun about. She couldn't think of one to save her life, and that made her laugh. "Like, uh, hey, ice to see you."
Daggy bowed his head and laughed, and that made Luna laugh even harder.
The waitress returned with their sodas, and Luna took a sip: It felt cold and good in her cottony mouth. A minute later, Flip came over and sat a dish of vanilla ice cream in front of them. He looked from Luna to Daggy and back again, his brows lowered. "You two are on something, aren't you?"
Luna's heart clutched, and she shook her head just a little too quickly – she almost fell over. "Nah, man," Daggy said, "we're just, you know, enjoying either other's company."
"Bullshit. I know what a marijuana freak looks like."
Daggy paled, and Flip leaned in...then swatted his arm. "Take it easy. I've smoked a few joysticks in my time."
"You?" Daggy asked incredulously.
Flip nodded. "You think you kids invented that shit? I was smoking those things when Woodrow Wilson was president. It was legal then."
Daggy looked at Luna then at Flip. "You wanna smoke some now?"
"No," Flip said. "That shit puts me to sleep anymore." He stood up straight. "It doesn't make me giggly like a little girl, though." Before either Daggy or Luna could reply, he walked away.
"Guess he used to smoke reefer," Daggy said. He shrugged, picked up his spoon, and dug in.
Luna did likewise: When the first spoonful hit her mouth, coldness spread through her, and it was so intense that she felt like he mouth was flash freezing. She swallowed hard and shuddered. "Man, that's shit's cold."
"What do you expect? It's ice cream, not hot cream."
Luna laughed. Daggy laughed too. "Man, this shit's killing me," she said.
When they were done, Daggy dropped a five dollar bill on the table and got up, holding the door for Luna with his foot while lighting a cigarette. The sun was going down and the high was starting to wear off. Luna sat in the passenger seat and Daggy climbed behind the wheel. "My stomach's cold," he said.
"Mine too."
He took a drag and leaned his head back against the seat; Luna did likewise, and for a long time they just sat there as the light drained from the evening sky. Peopled passed, cars came and went, the streetlamps along Main winked on. Luna watched moths dancing in the glow of the neon FLIP'S sign and laughed to herself when she thought it was kind of like their own little American Bandstand up there.
Daggy started the car and backed into the parking lot, glancing through the back window. He waited at the street for a line of cars, then hung a left. "You ready to go home?" he asked.
Luna had to think about that for a minute. "You got your own place, right?"
"Yeah," he said, "above the bowling alley."
She nodded. "Let's go over there and hang."
"Alright," Daggy said.
And they did.
Twice.
The drive-in on Route 9 sat on five acres of former pastureland bordered to the south by the highway and to the north by a stand of trees. On either flank, a chain-link fence separated it from the adjoining farms. A cinderblock building sat near the main gate: In it was a kitchen and a pair of bathrooms, and around it were a dozen picnic tables cast in the shade of beach umbrellas. That warm, spring night, the picture showing was Titanic starring Clifton Webb and Barbara Stanwyck. From the copyright date on the title screen, it was released in 1953, but Lori had never heard of it...not that she made a habit of paying attention to movies where awful things happen. Those are sad.
Bobby ran to get some popcorn and sodas from the concession stand, and while he was gone, Lori took a series of deep breaths and tried to brace herself for the coming revelation. When he got back, she would take his hand, look him in the eyes, and tell him. No more procrastinating.
Only when he got back, she wasn't ready, so she didn't tell him; she allowed him to slip his arm around her shoulder and rested her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her frayed nerves and his smell filling her nostrils. It was at this very drive-in that their baby was conceived. That's terrible, when you think about it: She imagined telling her son or daughter Yeah, you were made in the back of a '48 Coupe at the drive-in on a Friday night and shuddered. She didn't like to think of her parents...together, but if she were pressed, she would like to imagine that she was conceived normally: In a bed, in the missionary position, after marriage, not in a car or during some strange sex play. She shuddered again.
"You cold?" Bobby asked, stroking her hair.
"No," she said.
"You sure?" he asked. "You keep shaking."
"I'm fine."
For a long time, they watched the movie in silence. It was about an estranged married couple on the Titanic (which Lori kind of knew was a ship that sank in real life) who had a teenage daughter and a son a couple years younger than Lincoln. The woman was leaving the man and taking the kids. Somewhere along the line, it came out that the boy wasn't his, and he started acting distant to him, which hurt the boy's feelings. As the ship sank, however, they were reconciled, with the man telling someone, "He's my son," and Lori lost it, her hormones knocking her into an outright bawl. She buried her face in Bobby's stomach and wept into his shirt. "Hey," he said lowly, "hey, it's...it's alright." He rubbed her back and ran his fingers through her hair.
She pushed away and wiped her eyes. "Bobby..."
"Yeah?"
She tried to look him in the eyes, but it was hard to see through the tears. "I'm pregnant."
For a second, he didn't seem to understand...then it sank in and his face simultaneously dropped and went white. "What?"
Lori nodded, more tears flooding her eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bobby looked left and right as if expecting a camera crew to come out and yell Got'cha! He ranked his hand through his hair and sat back. "Oh, shit."
She wiped her eyes again. "That day you took me to the doctor, they told me. I-I didn't tell you sooner because I was a-afraid." She sniffed as he rubbed his temples with the heels of his palms.
"We used protection," he said.
"It didn't work."
He threw his head back and drew a deep sigh. Lori was suddenly afraid that she was wrong...that he would abandon her. "We'll get married," he said. "I was going to ask you anyway. I was just looking at rings the other day."
"We have to be quick," she said, "I-I don't want anyone to know it happened before."
Bobby nodded. "We'll apply for a marriage license tomorrow. When we get it, we can go to the justice of the peace." He took her hand and kissed it. "A baby, huh?"
She nodded.
"Wow," he said. "That's crazy...but in a good way."
"You think so?" she asked hopefully.
"I do," he said.
May 31, 1961, Lori and Bobby stood in the Royal County Courthouse's main hearing room, their hands clasped, as a judge in a black robe performed a short ceremony. Lori wore a simple blue dress while Bobby wore a Sunday suit that was tight around the arms and shoulders. The only other person present was Bobby's friend Blades, and only then because they needed a witness. Lori felt a rush of guilt at not having her family come, but Bobby promised that one day they would have a real wedding, and that was good enough for her.
"A wedding is such a wonderful occasion filled with hopes, dreams and excitement," the JP said, reading from a small leather-bound book. "We are here today to celebrate the love that Bobby and Lori have for each other, and to recognize and witness their decision to journey forward in their lives as marriage partners."
Blades stood with his hands clasped in front of him and his feet spread apart. He wore a black T-shirt tucked into his jeans. He looked uncomfortable.
"May your love create a safe haven for you both on the journey that lies ahead of you. Lead with your hearts and take the time to do the simple things that will nurture your love."
Lori glanced at Bobby and smiled. She would do whatever it took to nurture their love, because she loved him dearly.
"Deeply listen to each other—to your dreams, and to your frustrations. Be helpmates. Be ever active in finding new ways to give your love anew to each other every day."
Bobby squeezed her hand. Her stomach quivered with nerves. She was happy and scared and a million other things. Happy, mainly.
"Let your love be an inspiration to others to reach for what is good within us all. May your love be so abundant that you have plenty to share with the rest of us as well. It is your love that has brought us together here today. May it grow deeper and sweeter with each passing year."
The JP looked at Bobby. "Do you, Bobby take, Lori to be your partner for life? Do you promise to walk by her side forever, and to love, help, and encourage her in all she does? Do you promise to take time to talk with her, to listen to her, and to care for her? Will you share her laughter, and her tears, as her partner, lover, and best friend? Do you take her as your lawfully wedded wife for now and forevermore?"
"I do," Bobby said.
Lori squeezed his hand.
The JP looked at her. "Do you, Lori take, Bobby to be your partner for life? Do you promise to walk by his side forever, and to love, help, and encourage him in all he does? Do you promise to take time to talk with him, to listen to him, and to care for him? Will you share his laughter, and her tears, as his partner, lover and best friend? Do you take him as your lawfully wedded husband for now and forevermore?"
Lori blinked back tears. "I do."
"And now, seal your promises with these rings, the symbol of your life shared together."
For a moment, nothing happened. Bobby glared at Blades, who started and came forward with the rings. Bobby took the rings and slammed his palm into Blades' shoulder. "Dumbass," he hissed. Lori giggled and the JP rolled his eyes. Bobby handed his ring to Lori and kept hers. "Alright"
"Bobby, please repeat after me:
Lori, this ring I give as token and pledge,
As a sign of my love and devotion.
With this ring, I thee wed."
Bobby repeated it and slipped the ring onto her finger.
"Lori, please repeat after me:
Bobby, this ring I give as token and pledge,
As a sign of my love and devotion.
With this ring, I thee wed."
Lori repeated, and slipped the ring onto Bobby's finger.
"Lori and Bobby, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."
Lori and Bobby kissed for the first time as husband and wife.
"Married?"
Rita Loud's hand fluttered to her chest. Next to her, Lynn Sr. lifted his brows. Bobby and Lori stood side-by-side in front of the television set, her in a blue dress and him in a suit, both of them looking sheepish.
"Yeah," Lynn Jr. said, "married?" He was standing behind the couch, his hands resting on the back. Luna stood next to him, looking largely unperturbed. Leni and Luan were on the couch, Leni beaming and Luan looking confused. Lincoln sat on the arm next to Mom, his arms crossed and a questioning expression on his face.
"I-I'm happy for you," Rita said, "it's just so sudden."
"We're going to have a big wedding when we can afford it," Lori said, and looked at Bobby with a smile, "we just wanted to hurry up and do it. We've been talking about it for a long time and we were really excited."
"Congratulations," Lynn Sr. said.
Lincoln nodded his agreement while everyone else offered their own words of felicitation. He kind of expected this to happen, and he had certainly thought through the ramifications: He and Ronnie Anne were kind of sort of related now...not that that bothered him. It didn't bother her either. They talked about it, and Ronnie Anne said I don't care what they do, you're mine and I'm not giving you up.
Still, would this make it more difficult for them to get married one day? He hoped not.
An hour later, Ronnie Anne had a similar thought as Lori and Bobby stood in the Santiago living room. Next to her, her mother's mouth hung open. "You got married?"
Bobby nodded. "Yep. This afternoon."
"¿por qué no me lo dijiste? ¿por qué lo guardaste en secreto?"
Bobby sighed. "No queríamos hacer una producción de ella. Vamos a tener una gran boda cuando tengamos el dinero."
She held up her hand. "Alright. I wish I would have known, but congratulations. I'm happy for both of you."
"Thanks," Bobby said. He turned to Ronnie Anne. "This means you and Lincoln..."
"Were together before you and her, and will be together after you and her." She crossed her arms. "You're older, so you're going to die first."
"Drop dead twice," Bobby said.
"And look like you?"
Bobby started to flip her off, but his mother was looking at him, so he just shook his fist.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Reeling in the Years