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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꒱


❝ YOU'RE ALREADY
MY MODEL WIFE ❞

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"'Once I wished I was a duck as mostly ducks have lots of luck. They swim around al day in a pool and never have to go to school,'" the kid on the TV recited his poem.

"'Beaver, I think that's very, very cute'," his mother told him.

"'Hey, Beav, you still think you'll get a prize for that?'" his brother asked.

"'Sure Wally,'" Beaver said. "'I'm the only kid in the third grade who wrote a poem.'"

The fake audience laughed at the line before the screen went to black.

"So, how do you feel Ward and June handled their family problem?" Mr. Feeny asked them as he turned on the lights.

"They were too perfect," Shawn commented.

"Too TV," Cory added.

"I agree with you, Mr. Matthews," their teacher replied and the boy's eyes widened.

"That's not like you."

"There's a first time for everything," Juliet offered, "but don't get used to it."

Cory turned and gave her a faux-irritated look.

"In fact, you've brought me to today's assignment," Mr. Feeny continued.

"That's like you."

"Told you."

"No one likes a know-it-all, Jules."

"I do!" Shawn chimed in. "But it only looks good on Julie."

Juliet rolled her eyes as Mr. Feeny shook his head at them. "Back in the prehistoric 1950s when Cleavers strode the earth, the U.S. Census indicated that the model American family had a mother, a father and two children."

"Leftovers."

"What are you talking about, Mr. Matthews?"

"Well, last year in fifth grade we divided up into families and solved problems. It's sixth grade now, Mr. Feeny. Families are yesterday's news," Cory explained.

"Very well," their teacher acknowledged. "This year, I shall let you form into urban gangs."

"Cool!" Cory said happily and sat up straighter.

"Each gang with have a mother, father and two children," the older man added. 

The boy slumped in disappointment and slammed his head on his desk as he complained, "you just love dangling that string of hope in front of us and yanking it away, don't you?"

"I had a cat," Mr. Feeny admitted.

"I bet it hung itself," Shawn whispered to them.

"In this assignment, each participant will help the other to become an ideal family member. For instance, Mr. Hunter and Mr. Minkus will be paired as brothers."

Juliet gave them an interested look as both boys facepalmed and muttered "oh, no" in unison.

"And Miss Capelwood will be your sister."

"Oh, gross!" they exclaimed at the same time.

"Ouch. Really, guys?"

Minkus turned to give her an apologetic smile. "It's not you, my sweet. I could never think of you as my sister."

Next to her, Shawn glared at the boy. "I especially can't think of you like that if I plan to marry you."

"Funny you should say that, Mr. Hunter," Mr. Feeny said. "Or as I like to call Miss Capelwood, Mrs. Hunter."

Shawn's face lit up in a smile as he punched the air. "Yes!"

"I merely meant for her to be your sister-in-law," their teacher continued as Minkus slouched with disappointment, "and Mr. Matthews will be your father."

"He's gonna be my dad?" Minkus asked.

"Yes!" Cory exclaimed happily.

"And Miss Lawrence will be your wife."

"No!"

"We always knew this day would come, Mrs. Hunter," Shawn said as he gave the redhead a happy look.

"It's just for the project," she tried to remind him, but to no avail.

🌎🌎🌎

After school, the Shawn, Juliet and Minkus sat at Cory's kitchen table while the boy read from Topanga's paper, "I am Topanga's model husband."

"I'm sorry," Shawn laughed. "I'm just flat-out looking forward to this."

"I live my life in harmony," he continued, "with the physical and metaphysical world aligned with the Navajo spiritual path. Uh-huh. Okay, I could do that," he agreed as he jumped off the table. "There's just one thing that might throw this off a smidge."

"What's that?"

"I'm not a Navajo!"

"You don't have to be a Native American to be in tune with nature," the girl explained.

"Don't you hate it when mom and dad fight?" Minkus asked.

"No, into it," Shawn answered while he ate a chip.

"Not my parents," Juliet shrugged.

"Well, we're not fighting long 'cause I got something here that'll take the fight right out of mom. Read it and weep, little big hair." Cory handed her his paper.

"My model wife won't care how dirty my room gets. She will always let me win at video games, she will play street hockey at any time, day or night," Topanga paused and looked up from the paper. "Why don't you just marry Shawn?"

The two boys looked at each other with confusion before Cory said, "'cause our kids would look like horses."

"Besides," Shawn added with a smile as he pulled Juliet closer, "I'm already taken by Mrs. Hunter."

The redhead sighed. "Alright. Give me your paper, Shawn."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Paper? What paper?"

"So I can be your model wife," she explained patiently.

Realization flashed across his face before he smiled at her again. "That's just the thing, Julie. I don't need a dumb paper. You're already my model wife."

Topanga gave a little 'aww' as Cory pretended to wretch. Juliet sent her best friend a deadpan expression. "You didn't do the assignment, did you?"

"Oh no, I did," he reassured her. "I thought about my model wife and realized you're already it."

Juliet ducked her head as she tried to hide her suddenly very warm face.

"My turn," Minkus said and he gave them two thick stacks of paper. "Here you go, bro and who should've been Mrs. Minkus."

"For some reason, Juliet Minkus doesn't sound nearly as good as Juliet Hunter," Shawn observed evenly as he reached for the pages. "I just can't put my finger on why."

"Maybe 'cause you're biased," Juliet teased him after she'd had a moment to recover. "And who's to say I'm even going to change my last name? I could still be Juliet Capelwood if I'm married."

"I agree with Juliet," Topanga stated, nodding to the girl. "There's nothing wrong with keeping your maiden name. I think it's wonderful sign of independence and self-confidence."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Shawn said as he lifted Minkus' assignment. "Hey, Minkus, this is like, forty pages."

"Since I have no siblings I often spend many hours imagining what a younger brother or sister Minkus would act like."

Juliet gave him an understanding smile. "I don't have any siblings either. I don't spend many hours, but here you go." She handed Shawn the husband outline and Minkus the brother one.

"Hey, am I not already your model husband?"

"For one, you'd totally need to take more showers and clean your room. For another, you eat like a pig."

"Do not!"

"She's got you there, buddy," Cory said in agreement. "You are a pig."

"Well, maybe a model husband and brother would do something like this." In retaliation, he threw Minkus' outline to the ground.

As they resumed their reading of each other's profiles, the back door opened to reveal Eric. The older boy dramatically threw himself across the countertop and struck a pose. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. He thought he felt her hot, mossy breath on his eye," he said in a hushed voice as he hopped down from the table. "He blinked, she was gone. The beating of wings." He closed his hand to a fist and brought it down in front of his face. "Obsession."

Cory copied the gesture and whispered, "get help!"

"Mental help, preferably," Juliet remarked as she scooted her chair towards the living room door.

"I was discovered today!"

"You get discovered at the mall?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Did you pay ninety bucks to get photos taken?" Juliet added.

"Yeah, you can't model without a portfolio."

"You were scammed," Shawn said.

"They get you to pay all this money," Cory continued.

"And then you never hear from them," the dark-haired boy finished.

"Completely untrue, it's not a scam," Minkus countered.

"Yeah, listen to Minkus, boys and girls. He's the smart one."

"I, too, was discovered at the mall."

"Doh!" Eric exclaimed. He slapped his forehead and fell over.

"Grounded City, population: Eric Matthews," Juliet observed, knowing his parents wouldn't react well to this.

🌎🌎🌎

"Here," Shawn's voice came from behind Juliet and she flinched in surprise as something slightly heavy landed on her shoulders.

The boy's leather jacket enveloped her, long enough to make the tips of her fingers disappear underneath the material.

"Why are you giving me your jacket?" she asked in confusion and tilted her head to look up at him.

He gave her a grin. "Any wife of mine should look as cool as I do."

"And I don't already?"

"This just enhances the look," he reassured her. Then, he reached over and gently tugged her braids out from where they were tucked under the collar of the jacket.

At first she thought that was all, but then there were a few more careful pulls of her hair. "What now?"

"Never mind," came his quick answer, and she was about to demand a real one when she felt soft waves if hair brush against her face.

Frowning slightly, she pulled some of the loose hair in front of her eyes. "Shawnie?"

He shrugged and looked uncharacteristically embarrassed. "'S nothing."

Juliet turned to look at the boy, still surprised at how well he managed to pull off Minkus' look. "If you wanted me to take out my braids you could've just asked."

"Well, you never do," Shawn pointed out. "I didn't want you to have a chance to say no."

"Oh."

She wasn't really sure what to say to that but was saved from answering as the other students filed into the classroom after the bell rang. As Cory, Topanga and Minkus joined them up at the front, the blond boy did a double-take at Juliet's new look.

His eyes widened in surprise and the boy's mouth dropped open slightly as he took in the red waves of hair framing the girl's face. In a breathless sort of way, he recited: "for it is the east, and Juliet is the sun!"

"Whoa, Minkus, calm down," Cory said as he stepped in front of the girl, knowing that Shawn would go into overprotective mode.

Minkus ignored him and continued: "arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she."

Juliet's face turned pink at the recitation despite not liking Minkus in that way; it was still nice to hear. She felt Shawn's arm wrap around her shoulders and didn't need to look at him to know he was glaring at the shorter boy. "Back off, Minki. That's my wife you're talking about."

"Who am I to deny the truth?" the boy asked dreamily and Cory helpfully pushed him to his seat.

"That's enough now," he warned the boy as he gave him a weirded-out look.

Mr. Feeny called the class to order and explained their situation: "so, this family's crisis: the older, cooler brother wants to get a tattoo." He patted Shawn on the shoulder. "Take it away younger, uncool brother."

"But also the only one that's married," the comment slipped from Juliet's mouth before she could stop it.

Shawn flashed her a smug look before he straightened in his seat. "I can't fathom why any human being, in full possession of his faculties, would want to render himself permanently disfigured with so-called—" He paused and pushed his glasses up as he finished disdainfully, "body art."

"Whoa," he added, pulling off his glasses and running his fingers through his hair.

"What?"

"I was such a good geek that I scared myself."

"If we were married for real," Juliet said (she made sure to place emphasis on the first word), "I'd still love you even if you weren't cool. I don't think outward appearances should matter. If my brother-in-law wants a tattoo he should be able to get one. It's more important to focus on what's inside, anyway." Juliet was able to both stay true to herself— what Shawn wanted— and a supportive sister-in-law figure that Minkus wanted.

"Listen, pinhead," Minkus said as he leaned forward and pushed his hair back. "It's my body and I'll do whatever I want with it— unless maybe you'd like to try and stop me, you woodchuck-faced, near-sighted, underweight future IRS auditor."

"Mr. Minkus, I might remind you that eventually the bell will ring and he will be he and you will be you, and the natural selection will once again rule the blackboard jungle," Mr. Feeny reminded the boy.

"Will a five cover it?" Minkus asked, pulling out the money.

"Hey, talk some more," Shawn said easily as he took the bill.

"Since my sister-in-law— who should've been my wife— approves, we'll go through with what I want. Isn't that right, my sweet?" Minkus asked the redhead.

Juliet grimaced at the nickname. "Listen, even if I agree, we should still have a family vote. Everyone's opinion matters here, brother," she reminded him.

"Okay, you live under our roof, we make the decisions," Topanga cut in. "Tattoo, you, no." She held up her arms to cross them in an x.

"A person's body is his temple," Cory started dreamily. "If our son wants to ornament his temple with a tattoo, let him worship in his own way. Nam Myo ho renge kyo— you are so bizarre," he told the curly-haired girl in a normal voice.

"When I said opinion, I meant personal opinion," Juliet added as she followed Shawn's outline. "Not some channeled words from a dead guy." She gave Topanga an apologetic look since she didn't really mean what she said.

The girl flashed her an understanding smile before she continued: "I've decided, without benefit of discussion with my spouse— because that's the kind of husband I know you'll be," she added fiercely, pointing to Cory. "—the tattoo will have to wait."

Minkus stood and ripped open his shirt to reveal a large, dragon tattoo.

"Cool!" Shawn exclaimed.

"Ack!" Juliet yelped and quickly covered her eyes. "Minkus!"

"Stuart, the tattoo," Topanga said, placing a hand on her chest. "It speaks to me."

Cory had a completely different reaction. "Minkus, what's the deal?" he asked angrily. "We agreed on no tattoo!"

"Mr. Feeny's assignment was to solve a family problem and I decided to solve it my way," he paused. "Well, actually, his way."

"Minkus," Shawn's voice was awed. "You've got a dark side. "He high-fived the boy.

"Great," Cory said with a sigh. "Thanks for screwing up the assignment."

"On the contrary, Mr. Matthews," Mr. Feeny disagreed. "Mr. Minkus didn't screw up the assignment at all."

"Yeah, but we had out family discussion all planned out and he messed it up— he broke the rules."

"Which is exactly what happens in real families," Mr. Feeny explained. "There is no model household, there are no model parents. Miss Capelwood," he added, "please lower your hand."

"Oh, right," the girl said apologetically and placed her hand back down.

"I think the only way you can judge your family is by how much love there is in the home," Topanga said.

"Excellent point, Miss Lawrence. A family is a living, breathing thing that requires constant adjustment and change."

"But Beaver's dad never changed," Cory pointed out. "He always knew what he was going to say."

"Beaver's dad wasn't real. Real fathers have to adapt and don't have script like Beaver's father did."

"I guess it's easy to sound smart when you've got the best writers in Hollywood writing everything you say," the boy agreed.

"I wouldn't know," Mr. Feeny answered with a sigh.

🌎🌎🌎

After class, Juliet caught up with Shawn. "I guess you want this back," she said, making an attempt to hand him his jacket.

He gave her a small smile. "Nah, you can keep it for a bit. I don't need it." She gave him a strange look but nodded and pulled the jacket back on. "You want these back?" he asked as he held up her hair ties.

After a moment's hesitation, she shook her head. "It's fine, you can toss them. I've got more at home."

Instead of chucking them in the nearest bin, Shawn slid the two hair ties on his wrist. "For safe keeping," he explained as he put his hands in his pockets. They made their way down the hall in a comfortable silence until he said, "y'know, with all of this marrying business I never got a kiss from my wife."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Fake wife, Shawnie."

"Well, you could've given me a fake kiss."

With a grin, she placed the palm of her hand on her lips and kissed it before she blew it towards him. "There's your fake kiss."

He huffed slightly. "I meant a real fake kiss."

"A really fake one? Okay," Juliet teased him.

The boy rolled his eyes and took a hand out of his pocket to sling an arm around her shoulders. "One of these days I'll get what I want." 

[edited may 2022]