Rule One: Don't cry

Rule Two: Don't crowd

Rule Three: Don't call within the first 24 hours

The pact was straightforward and mutually applicable. They both signed the bottom of the grease-stained napkin.

"But what if the room's all dusty and something just happens to float into my eye! I'd have no option but to cry at that point, unless you want your poor mother to go blind?" The faux pout on her lips was met with the thud of a rogue pillow.

"Oh no, we wouldn't want that!" Emma chuckled, reaching behind the couch to replenish her pillow ammo.

"Hey, I'm just saying! This thing is pretty flimsy," her mother snatched the ink-blotched napkin and waved it around. "It certainly doesn't account for everything." The theatrics in her voice earned her another pillow to the face.

"Mom, c'mon! We have to take this seriously. Tomorrow's gonna be hard enough. We need some rules in place if this is going to work."

Emma slouched deeper into the couch, the thought of sleeping in an empty dorm room sounding less and less appealing. Following in suit, her mother sank into the cushions across from her, jabbing icy cold toes under her daughter's legs.

"Hey!"

"Hey, what! If I only have my leg warmer for one more night, I sure as hell am going to take advantage of it."

Emma sighed, a smile betraying her puckered lips as she tried her best to hold the scowl.

"Well, what do you expect? It's not in the rules." Her mother taunted, the line releasing her daughter's full smile.

As silence filled the air once more, they both stared at the pile in front of them. Behind the coffee table, covered in sweets and starch, sat a mound of suitcases and miscellaneous items ready to move into their new home.

"Mom," her voice came out softer, but more serious than before. "What if people don't like Mrs. Bubbles? What if they think she's weird or something?" Her mom stretched out and picked up the aquatic stuffed animal, gently setting in on her lap.

"That could never happen."

"How do you know?"

Her mom sat Mrs. Bubbles up on propped knees, examining the silly animal. "Because I raised Mrs. Bubbles. I raised her to be smart, compassionate, generous, and brave."

Emma's eyes were glassy by the time her mom met them. "And you," she placed the stuffed animal in her daughter's lap, "and Mrs. Bubbles are going to do amazing."

Emma hugged the animal before leaning forward and hugging her mom, "You think so?"

"I know so." She kissed Emma's forehead and squeezed her tightly. "And if you're not, you can always call me."

Without notice, a pillow smacked into Emma's forehead, where the kiss had just been planted.

"But not for 24 hours!" Her mother sprang up just as Emma caught on, shocked, but grateful for the shift in tone.

She glanced once more at the pile on the floor before jumping up and starting after her mom, arms full of pillows.