“Labor?!? Now? OhMyPlumbBob Whatdowedowhatdowedo?!?”
“We get a car. We get in the car. We go to the hospital in that car.”
“In a car? Do you have a car? Can you drive like that?!?”
“NOOOoooo! I do not have a car! You do! And no I cannot drive while the little monster-Aaaaaurgh! GetthecarGetTheCar!”
“Gottagetthecargottagetthecargottagetthecar-”
Tilting her head slightly, Mariah watched his retreating back, almost wanting to laugh until another bolt of pain sizzled through her abdomen.
“You can’t forget me you dolt! Hey! Roger! Hey!! You have to get me first!”
Not listening, he kept running away until Mariah finally began to trudge off after him.
Fortunately, he was only trying to pull up closer so she wouldn’t have to go quite as far.
Unfortunately-
“You do know the hospital is the other way, right?”
“What?!? No! It’s- this is the-Aw, PlumbBob! Sorry! I was just parked facing this way and I swear-geez. Sorry! Can you hold it?”
“I don’t have to pee, I’m in labor! There is no ‘holding it!’”
In the end, Roger was able to screw his head back on and get them safely to the labor and maternity ward. A short eternity later, Andre’s daughter was delivered.
Mariah was still a little dazed as she carried her tiny girl outside for the first time, ready to go home.
Roger must have been feeling nearly the same as he insisted they take a taxi home.
Watching him approach the waiting cab she had to fight back a grin at the look on his face. He looks so happy. This baby wasn’t even his, but here he was beaming, making sure the baby was taken care of, excited about it all.
Entering the house while Roger paid the fare didn’t help Mariah’s thoughts any, either. He is such a great guy! Now he’d left his awkward teenage years behind he probably had girls falling all over him, I would too, if things were different, yet he was intent on sticking around for the sake of a tiny little baby.
She’d known for long enough now that she would be doing this on her own, and it was high time she quit needing him to make sure she had a healthy social life. He needed a healthy social life too, one that didn’t revolve around her.
“Little birdie!” She cooed back to her cooing baby, placing her carefully in the crib for a nap. “You’re going to be my little bird of peace aren’t you? Mommy’s peaceful little Dove. All mine.”
She's beautiful,” Mariah still had one foot on the stairs. Looking over she saw Roger hadn’t left. He was sitting there with a starry eyed smile, exultant, exhausted. With a resigned sigh she flopped down next to him. Might as well see if she could cut the ties now.
“Yeah,” she answered. “She is.”
“You know, uh, I’m not at all ad-adverse to-to pretend-”
“-Yeah, I know. And thanks, but I’m adverse to you pretending to be anything to her,” Mariah interrupted. Damn that sounded mean. And she hadn’t meant it that way. If he wanted to be a friend to Dove, that was fine. But that was also all she could let him be, and only if he meant it. He wasn’t a friend of Dove’s just because he worried about her mom. He absolutely would not be pretending to be her dad just to save Mariah.
Beside her Roger stiffened, inhaling sharply. Damn Damn. She hoped he hadn't misunderstood.
“That little girl upstairs? Has a dad. It might not look like it and maybe our little town won’t think of it that way, but I would like to introduce you to her dad,” Mariah attempted to explain. Straightening up she half turned and extended her hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dove Sixkiller’s Dad. And Mom. And everything in between. Except for Aunt, because I’m sure Tibs will end up having a say in that once word gets around to her. Damn, I need to tell her, huh? She’s gonna kill me.”
Roger looked perplexed as he took her hand a little too solemnly, shaking it, trying to hide the sadness behind his confusion. But Mariah could smell it coming off of him stronger than any cologne and was a little annoyed at his worry. This is the path she had chosen. He might not like it, he didn’t have to, but he would have to respect it. After all, it would be better for him to go ahead and move on now, live his life, find a girl, settle down.
“There are other ways she could have a dad without anyone pretending to be anything,” he ventured.
Nodding, Mariah pretended to inspect the backs of her hands, trying to buy time she knew she couldn’t afford. She needed to tell him she didn’t expect him to stick around, needed to let him go.
She couldn't find her voice though. What words did you use to say something like that? How could anyone say it without feeling like they were doing more damage than good?
“You shouldn’t have to do this totally alone. Besides, he ought to be paying you for the keeping of your little girl-”
“-No. No, he shouldn’t. Because that would mean he’d also have rights to Do-”
“-He does have rights to-”
“-No he does not.”
“It takes-”
“-One! It took one lousy time! It took him almost no time to get what he came for before turning around and forgetting about me. And when he did that he forfeited-”
“-The law-”
“-Screw the law! And screw him!” She had no idea she was on her feet.
“He’s made it plenty clear he wants nothing to do with MY baby. And dammit Rog! She doesn’t deserve that swine! She shouldn’t have to live down my stupid mistakes. I might have screwed up her beginning pretty badly, but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of being both her dad and her mom. I took care of my mom, and I can take care of Dove too.”
“I’m not saying you can’t raise her on your own,” Roger reached up, taking one of her hands and pulling her back onto the couch. “I know you are more than capable of taking wonderful care of her all by yourself. I wanted you to know that you don’t have to do it alone.” Blushing furiously Roger ducked his head, encasing her hand in both of his.
“Oh, Rog!” Mariah melted instantly wishing he felt the same way she did all while wishing oh, so hard that nothing would ever change between them. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have, but I’ve got to do this on my own.” She kissed his shoulder before laying her head down on it. “I’m so glad you’re still my friend.”
“Yeah,” Roger replied, sounding surprisingly miserable to Mariah. “I’m still your friend.”
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I know there is no 'wrong way' in most Sim neighborhoods as the roads are laid out in circles for the most part, but Roger really did go the longest way around he could. It amused me.
I would also like to take a moment and point out that I really didn't intend for the "Can you hold it?" bit to be in here so soon after another blogger used it in the same context. This has been written and waiting on me to finish photo editing things below for over a month now. Perhaps the muse that suggested it to me was tired of waiting and passed it on elsewhere. ;)
Dove Sixkiller is an Artistic Genius. If you catch her with headphones on, Geek Rock will be blaring in her ears. She's a sucker for a plate of crepes, and thinks Hot Pink is the queen of the color wheel. Dove is also a very special sim to me. Her birth marks the 10th generation of her family. Yes, she is the 4th generation of my Random Legacy, but Helen (Blue) Sixkiller was the 7th generation of a NIF challenge I'd been doing. So, you get a sneak peek at her as a YA. I will reveal further WHY I'm showing her now in a few chapters. ;) And of course I'm making you suffer through the rest of the family. I've never made it through 10 generations before so it's a big deal dammit. <3 (Note- This does Not represent each and every child, or even life loves or romantic partners. It's simply the genetic donors of the next generation.)
