#Heather McNamara as steve’s mom just makes so much sense to me okay don't @ me

[instasiswetrust]

Heather Harrington neé McNamara was not the best mom but neither was she the worst.

Recitals? Baseball games? Parent-Teacher conferences? Yeah, don't expect her to attend those unless you like the way disappointment sits heavy, low in your stomach.

But she always made sure Steve never lacked anything he would ever need in life.

She taught him to clean, to cook, to be self-sufficient. He knew how to fire a gun as well as he knew how to prepare parmesan chicken. Knew which people to avoid and which people to stick around with to maintain a social status. How to lie, how to look pretty, how to get what he wanted from life with a smile and a look.

And never in his whole seventeen years of life did she make him think that their abilities were anything other than a gift.

"It might seem unhelpful because of how distracting it is, honey. I know it makes things harder for you at school and I'm so sorry about that. But this thing we've got? It is a gift, my love." She had whispered to him one afternoon after he had come home with another set of failed grades, a result of getting distracted by the itchy, prickly feeling he got whenever he was near Mrs. Keen, his batshit crazy Math teacher. "It will help keep you safe. And you will know things other won't."

So Steve had lacked parents who gave him the kind of love he yearned, but he had his gift and his practical knowledge and a big empty house to fit all the people who called themselves his friends.

Asking for more would just be selfish, wouldn't it?

---

"Mom, hey, are you and dad coming over anytime soon?"

Heather, who had been in the middle of a recounting about this fantastic escargot she had eaten in Paris, stopped immediately at the timbre of her son's voice.

"Not for another two weeks, no. You sound troubled love, is something the matter? I'm sure I can schedule a trip back to Hawkins if you-"

"No, no it's... fine. Everything is fine, mom." But his words were too rushed, and there's hesitation clear in them. It's clear that something must be bothering him, otherwise, he wouldn't have called.

"Mhmm. But?"

The line went quiet for a few moments, Steve's breathing the only thing that could be heard. Heather knew then that whatever he was hiding, he would tell her.

"There's this...guy," He started, quiet and unsure. It made her eyes widen, pressing the phone closer to her ear in avid interest. "He joined classes this year, said he comes from Cali. But uh, you remember how you always told me that we can tell if somebody is good or bad depending on the vibes they give out?"

"Yes. Bad vibes make you feel itchy, unnerved, and sweat cold. Good vibes are goosebumps and restlessness. Why?"

"Because I'm getting all of those. From him."

Huh. Well, that's something she hadn't seen that often herself. It almost made her want to giggle.

"Oh honey, that's okay. Doesn't happen often but it's okay." She smiled against the phone, hearing the relieved sigh her son let out on the other end. "Maybe you should try getting to know him better, talk to him a little. Let yourself do the judging instead of relying only on the vibes."

"I... Yeah, I guess I could try that. Thanks, mom."

"Anytime, honey."

She hoped her Stevie realized he's got a crush on this boy before she came back from Paris. If he hadn't, she was going to have to tell him herself.

What neither of them ever considered though, was that Billy Hargrove was a werewolf. And that Steve was careless enough to follow him into the woods during the night of a full moon.