Ficlet: "Absolutely, Certainly"
Written for the shmoop_bingo prompt "Kidfic - bedtime." Like most of my ficlets, it takes place in the world of my story "MODE: Final Issue!", though you need not have read it to follow ... although it WOULD help to have read "Heaven and Earth." Even by the standards of shmoop bingo, this is shmoopy, but I hope you guys enjoy!
"Absolutely, Certainly"
Five years ago, Betty learned for an absolute, certain, medical fact that she could never give birth to a daughter.
Tonight, she’s going to put her daughter to bed for the first time. And even though she didn’t give birth to Anna Elizabeth Meade, Betty already knows that this is her child, absolutely, certainly.
“Shh,” she whispers as she creeps upstairs, Anna asleep against her shoulder. “We don’t want to wake Rob.”
“Or do we?” Despite the zillion hours they’ve just spent on airplanes between Beijing and London, plus the worst case of jet lag ever, Daniel is practically glowing. He’s ahead of them on the stairs, but keeps looking back to smile at his little girl. “He’s going to want to meet his little sister.”
“They have a whole lifetime to know each other. I have about ten minutes before I collapse. I’d rather be in bed when it happens.”
“Don’t get too attached to the idea of bed.” He reaches the second floor and puts a hand out to steady Betty on the last step. “We’ve got a new baby. Sleep is about to go bye-bye again.”
“So soon!” After a long struggle, Rob has recently, finally accepted that remaining in his bed throughout the night might be for the best. “I’m going to miss sleep.”
“But it’s worth it.”
“Absolutely.”
They pause at the threshold of the nursery. Daniel brushes back the dark wisps of Anna’s hair, the better to gaze down at her little face. She’s almost exactly six months old. Her life up until now has been spent in an orphanage, and already Betty’s heart hurts as she thinks of the months that she didn’t know Anna was her daughter, that she wasn’t there to feed and clothe and bathe her. That Daniel didn’t have this light shining from him, the likes of which she hasn’t seen since Rob was a newborn.
But now the Meade family can make up for lost time.
Working together, silently, they take off Anna’s tiny shoes and coat; thank goodness Daniel had the foresight to suggest they put her into jammies on the plane. It was a chore and a half in the claustrophobic washroom, but now all they have to do is settle her back into the crib and pull the blanket over her.
But even after they’ve done this, Betty and Daniel linger. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and she leans her head against his shoulder while they watch their daughter sleep. When they first began the adoption process, Betty felt like she was striking back at the cruel chance that had denied her the ability to give birth to more children after Rob, but all that anger is gone now. If she and Daniel hadn’t gone through that pain, they wouldn’t have this joy, or this daughter. This family.
“I wish we had woken Rob up,” Betty whispers. “How does having her make me miss him even more?”
“I know. Lucky Rob.”
“We’ll see if he thinks he’s lucky when she’s old enough to get into his toys.” Betty suppresses a smile at the memory of the time she used Hilda’s first lipstick to substitute for a missing red crayon with her coloring books, and the ensuing outrage. “According to Hilda, little sisters are a mixed blessing.”
“At least Rob knows his sister is a sister from the get-go. I wish I’d known from the start instead of thinking my sister was a brother for a couple decades.”
“Huh. Good point.”
“And besides - you know Hilda loves you.”
“Yeah.” Betty pulls Daniel’s arm around her, and he obliges with a snuggle. “Speaking of waking people, should we see if Hilda’s up? She was good enough to stay here with Rob for two weeks; you know she wants to be the first one to see her new niece.”
“If she were up, we’d have heard her squealing with excitement all the way from Heathrow.” Daniel kisses the top of her head. “Admit it. You want to show Anna off as badly as I do.”
“True.”
“Tomorrow,” he promises, and that word has almost never sounded sweeter.
**
Although I hope to write more in this universe, this is probably as far into Betty and Daniel's future as I'll ever go ...
"Absolutely, Certainly"
Five years ago, Betty learned for an absolute, certain, medical fact that she could never give birth to a daughter.
Tonight, she’s going to put her daughter to bed for the first time. And even though she didn’t give birth to Anna Elizabeth Meade, Betty already knows that this is her child, absolutely, certainly.
“Shh,” she whispers as she creeps upstairs, Anna asleep against her shoulder. “We don’t want to wake Rob.”
“Or do we?” Despite the zillion hours they’ve just spent on airplanes between Beijing and London, plus the worst case of jet lag ever, Daniel is practically glowing. He’s ahead of them on the stairs, but keeps looking back to smile at his little girl. “He’s going to want to meet his little sister.”
“They have a whole lifetime to know each other. I have about ten minutes before I collapse. I’d rather be in bed when it happens.”
“Don’t get too attached to the idea of bed.” He reaches the second floor and puts a hand out to steady Betty on the last step. “We’ve got a new baby. Sleep is about to go bye-bye again.”
“So soon!” After a long struggle, Rob has recently, finally accepted that remaining in his bed throughout the night might be for the best. “I’m going to miss sleep.”
“But it’s worth it.”
“Absolutely.”
They pause at the threshold of the nursery. Daniel brushes back the dark wisps of Anna’s hair, the better to gaze down at her little face. She’s almost exactly six months old. Her life up until now has been spent in an orphanage, and already Betty’s heart hurts as she thinks of the months that she didn’t know Anna was her daughter, that she wasn’t there to feed and clothe and bathe her. That Daniel didn’t have this light shining from him, the likes of which she hasn’t seen since Rob was a newborn.
But now the Meade family can make up for lost time.
Working together, silently, they take off Anna’s tiny shoes and coat; thank goodness Daniel had the foresight to suggest they put her into jammies on the plane. It was a chore and a half in the claustrophobic washroom, but now all they have to do is settle her back into the crib and pull the blanket over her.
But even after they’ve done this, Betty and Daniel linger. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and she leans her head against his shoulder while they watch their daughter sleep. When they first began the adoption process, Betty felt like she was striking back at the cruel chance that had denied her the ability to give birth to more children after Rob, but all that anger is gone now. If she and Daniel hadn’t gone through that pain, they wouldn’t have this joy, or this daughter. This family.
“I wish we had woken Rob up,” Betty whispers. “How does having her make me miss him even more?”
“I know. Lucky Rob.”
“We’ll see if he thinks he’s lucky when she’s old enough to get into his toys.” Betty suppresses a smile at the memory of the time she used Hilda’s first lipstick to substitute for a missing red crayon with her coloring books, and the ensuing outrage. “According to Hilda, little sisters are a mixed blessing.”
“At least Rob knows his sister is a sister from the get-go. I wish I’d known from the start instead of thinking my sister was a brother for a couple decades.”
“Huh. Good point.”
“And besides - you know Hilda loves you.”
“Yeah.” Betty pulls Daniel’s arm around her, and he obliges with a snuggle. “Speaking of waking people, should we see if Hilda’s up? She was good enough to stay here with Rob for two weeks; you know she wants to be the first one to see her new niece.”
“If she were up, we’d have heard her squealing with excitement all the way from Heathrow.” Daniel kisses the top of her head. “Admit it. You want to show Anna off as badly as I do.”
“True.”
“Tomorrow,” he promises, and that word has almost never sounded sweeter.
**
Although I hope to write more in this universe, this is probably as far into Betty and Daniel's future as I'll ever go ...