As it turned out, the four of us had so much fun painting our nails, that Momri suggested we did our toenails as well. Stena and I were in immediate agreement, and needled Mom until she said that it was okay, too.
Momri was going to do mine first, and sat me down in front of her before pulling out a special thing to put between my toes. Unlike before, when she just used a cloth wrapped around my hand to separate my fingers, what she pulled out now looked like it was designed to be used specifically for this. It was soft and a little spongy, so it didn’t feel too uncomfortable as she wedged it between my toes.
“So, Cici, did you want the same design on your toes?” Momri asked as she settled in front of me and dragged over the cloth that she had laid her paints on.
“Mhm!” I nodded, and spread out my fingers in front of me to look at the paint on my nails again. “I like them a lot, so I think the same is good.”
“Okay…” Momri breathed out as she held up my left foot so she could see her work. Her fingers were a little cold, and her light touch tickled a little. I had to fight the urge to kick my leg out every time she touched the bottom of my foot.
As Momri worked on painting my toenails, Mom and Stena were sitting a little off to the side, reclined in two of the lounge chairs. They were comparing their own nails and giggling together. By the time Momri had finished my first foot and swapped to my right foot, Stena was sitting in Mom’s lap. It was honestly nice to have all of us in the same room again after being cooped up sick for a couple days.
With my mind wandering and thinking about what we might do next after everyone else had their toenails finished, I wasn’t thinking so much about Momri and my feet. I imagine Momri’s legs were getting sore or numb and she shifted to move her legs to a different position. In the same motion, she had to readjust her hold on my foot and one of her fingers glided across the center of the bottom of my foot, and my reactions took over.
My leg jerked, and even though Momri’s reactions were very quick and she caught my leg before I managed to kick her or anything like that, I still ended up with a nice purple streak of paint tracking from my middle toe up the top of my foot to almost where it met my leg.
Momri and I just stared at it, then at each other for a moment before we both laughed.
“What? What happened?” Mom asked from her chair, as Stena climbed off of her to come take a look.
It only took her a few steps to reach us and then point and laugh at my foot. “She’s got paint on her foot!”
Mom just gave Momri a mildly concerned look with a half smile. “Everything okay over there?”
“It’s fine.” Momri answered, then looked back at me with slightly narrowed eyes as she grabbed my foot again. “This little monster decided that after ten minutes of doing well, she was going to be ticklish again.” To punctuate her statement, Momri ran a finger up and down my foot.
I immediately squirmed, trying not to jerk around too much, but Momri didn’t let up until I tried to violently pull my foot away. And even then, she held fast to it, but just stopped tickling me.
“Like that. She just kicked once and the paint brush went up her foot.”
Mom chuckled. “I see.” She glanced over to Stena, who was still watching but now looked a little apprehensive - she was much more ticklish than I was. “We may need to all hold Stena down if she wants her toenails painted.
Stena whipped around to face Mom, the apprehension in her face growing. “What?”
Mom slowly extended her arms out, making grabby hands toward Stena with a maniacal, devilish grin on her face. “We’ll hold you down so you can’t run away from the tickling!” She said, twisting her voice to be a little scary, but still clearly joking.
Stena immediately bolted, jumping up on the bed and scrambling across it to put the furniture between her and Mom and hide behind it poorly.
Of course, she also just succeeded in putting herself trapped in a corner of the room with no escape, as Mom slowly stalked around the bed. Stena could have, perhaps, jumped across the bed again, but Mom had an arm out over the bed to discourage it. There was no chance she could reach Stena if she tried to do it though - not without leaping onto the bed herself, anyway.
I watched the scene unfold while Momri wiped the paint off the top of my foot. She wasn’t paying much attention to it either, as we both watched Mom pounce at Stena and lift the girl up by her armpits. We laughed as Stena kicked fitfully, but distinctly not hitting Mom; she could have, too, if she didn’t also understand they were playing.
Mom thumped Stena onto the bed and began tickling her, deftly avoiding any and all return attacks from the girl, which were much more legitimate this time, although it was mostly pointless flailing. The laughter and squeals continued as Momri resumed painting my toenails, having finished the small cleanup from the pain mishap.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Eventually, Stena was all laughed-out and exhausted on the bed. Mom was seated next to her, now gently rubbing the girl’s stomach as she calmed down. Luckily, their nails had been dried supernaturally quickly by Momri, or they would have definitely gotten nail paint all over the sheets.
As it was, it didn’t take much longer for Momri to finish her work on my toes, having been more than halfway finished when I had nearly kicked her. She blew on them once she finished, and then circulated a bit of Qi, using a technique of hers to draw out some of the moisture. It wouldn’t dry the paint completely, but it would speed the process up pretty significantly. And significantly lessen the chance of me getting paint somewhere it shouldn’t be.
As I took over one of the loungers to let my toenails finish drying, Mom took Stena to the hot seat and sat her down for her turn. Despite all of the teasing, Stena did admirably while her toes were painted. She did twitch a few times, and nearly kicked Momri in the face once, but altogether she did very well.
With her own turn finished, Stena came to sit with me on one of the lounge chairs while Mom took the hot seat to get her own toes finished. I watched my mothers chat lightly while Momri did her painting, and my eyes were starting to close on their own. I wasn’t sure whether it was the dregs of my flu fighting back, or if I was just relaxed or tired naturally, but I was fighting a losing battle to stay awake.
And rather than fight it, I just gave in, falling asleep for a midafternoon nap in the lounger while passively watching my family just be themselves.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that it was hot. Thankfully I wasn’t sweating the way I had with the fever or anything like that, but it was definitely not exactly comfortable. It took me a moment to realize that the heat wasn’t even necessarily coming from me.
Evidently, while I was napping, I had been moved to the bed where I was now cuddled up with both my mothers and Stena. I had been crammed into the middle with Stena - who was now snoozing quietly - while Mom and Momri were leaning up on their sides chatting quietly.
“It’s hot.” I whined softly, shifting to try to get some cooler air on my back and sides that were a little clammy thanks to the contact.
“Oh. Sorry, Cici.” Momri said as she shifted a little to give me more space. Mom mimicked the movement on the other side, which let Stena shift a little away too. Momri also circulated some of her Qi to help cool us all off.
Significantly more comfortable now, I laid there quietly as I slowly woke up. Mom and Momri kept chatting about random things - dinner, a book Momri finished, what Mom’s siblings were planning - all while Momri kept the cooler air coming.
Once I was a little more awake, I remembered the painted nails. It was still plenty light in the room to see just fine, so I extended my arm while laying on my back to admire the pink and purple paint. I smiled to myself, just feeling generally happy.
Mom leaned in next to me and held up her own hand, fingers splayed, to see her darker purple nails next to mine. She chuckled in my ear, “You know, I think they’re very pretty. But I’m not sure I would do this again. It’s a little pointless, don’t you think?”
Momri snorted. “Being pretty is the point, dear. Besides, we had such a lovely day today while doing them, and they’ll last a few days.”
“Eh. We’ll see.” Mom said.
There was a beat of silence as I shifted and rolled over, prompting my stomach to growl rather loudly. Mom chuckled at me. “I guess it’s time to figure out food for tonight.”
----------------------------------------
“You’re kidding me.” Fia said, leaning on the table.
“I am not.” Cierra said, laughing. “And not only that, she actually carried on complaining about them for days afterward too, until the color finally faded. Kept saying that she found the color distracting every time she moved her hands, or that it was such a waste of time.”
The small group of girls looked over at Emery, who was eating and laughing with the table of adults. It wasn’t very hard to pick out her purple nails, even from across the pavilion. Especially with Cultivation enhanced vision.
“Mom always has her nails colored.” Elise said. “I’ve helped her paint them more than once.”
“We all have,” Fia agreed. “I really like the little spa breaks.”
Stena nodded. “I don’t remember it quite as well, but I do remember her complaining at first.” She said, thinking back to it. “But even then, once the color finally faded, it didn’t take her long to ask Momri to do it again.”
Cierra chuckled. “No, it didn’t. But I distinctly remember her being very unlike herself for a few days, fidgeting all the time and looking very unsure of herself. I think she was worried about asking Momri to paint her nails again after complaining so much.”
“To be fair,” Fia said, “I’m sure Momri teased her endlessly about it.”
“She did.” Cierra nodded. “That wasn’t the worst of it though. When Mom’s sisters found out, after hearing her whining for a week, they were brutal.”
“Oh?” Fia asked, a wide grin on her face. She was always appreciative of stories involving Rylie and Demi - they always put on the best pranks and tricks.”
“Yeah. Even putting aside the general teasing that you’d expect, when Mom showed up with her nails painted a second time after complaining about how distracting the extra color was, they decided that they should also dye her -”
“Cierra.”
Cierra jumped as Emery’s voice cut through the din of the dinner conversations. Most of them continued, but the little group of girls gossiping turned to face their mother, who was wearing a tight smile. “I can hear you, you know.” She said, daring Cierra to continue her story.
“Well uh…Yeah…” Cierra said, turning back toward her group. “They teased her for days,” was what she eventually settled on.