Vignette #2: "Odd-Todd"“Up you go, baby-girl”, said Willow as she lifted a nine-month old Emily out of her play pen and carried her into the kitchen of the Summers’ residence where she and her mothers had relocated to four months earlier after the demonic debacle in Seattle.
“It’s tummy-yummy breakfast time”, the redhead sing-songed, securing her daughter into the highchair and locking the plastic food tray in place on the front. “Bib”, Willow said over her shoulder to Tara standing nearby.
“Check”, answered the blonde, handing her wife a large catchall feeding bib to tie around Emily’s neck.
The bib in place, Willow moved on, “Sip-E-Cup.”
“Check”, said Tara, handing it over.
“What have we got today?” asked Willow, accepting the cup and placing it on the food tray.
“Apple juice.”
“Oooh, hear that, Emily? Your favorite juice. I can’t decide whether you like it for the taste or because it keeps you regular”, the redhead teased their child, tickling under her small chin. Emily giggled with delight and reached her hands out, grasping at the air. “Yanananah!” She babbled. Willow obliged and carefully handed her the cup, which Emily instantly grabbed by both handles and started sucking greedily on its spout.
“Cheerios.”
“Check.”
Willow stepped aside this time, letting Tara move forward and pour a cup full of the “O” shaped cereal onto the tray. Emily bounced in her seat, even as she continued to guzzle her juice. Breakfast was one of her favorite meals of the day. Of course, she also got this excited for lunch and dinner and any snacks in between.
“There you go, sweetheart”, cooed Tara as she leaned up and gently kissed her baby on the forehead as the child continued to bounce happily. “Don’t bounce too much, you’ll upset your tummy.”
“Maybe we should have named her Tigger”, joked Willow.
“Hush”, chided Tara playfully. She turned and wrapped her arms loosely about her wife’s slender hips; Willow mirrored the action. “I love you”, the blonde said softly.
“I love you too”, Willow replied, placing a soft kiss on Tara’s lips, a gentle communication of their love.
Emily stopped her bouncing and stared intently at her parents’ display of affection. Her mouth was still occupied on her Sip-E-Cup, so her eyes smiled instead.
After a long moment, the kiss ended, but the two lovers did not pull entirely apart, content to stay in each other’s arms for the moment.
“Breakfast?” Willow questioned sweetly.
“Sure”, Tara answered, and they finally separated from each other to go about the business of food preparation and consumption.
“What’s on the menu?” asked the redhead as she opened a cabinet and pulled down a set of plates.
“Eggs. Only scramble-y this time instead of sassy”, explained Tara as she crossed over to the stove where she had momentarily left a small skillet on low heat, the eggs sizzling softly inside, waiting to be served. “Oh, and I just put some bread in the toaster it should be ready right about--” she was interrupted as the contraption let off a small ding and four freshly cooked pieces of toast erupted from the slots. “Now”, she finished with a half-smile.
“Nummy”, Willow smiled, carrying the empty plates to the toaster and swiftly removing the piping hot slices and placing them on the round porcelain. “Ooch”, she muttered to herself after a particularly searing piece of nine-grain. She shook her offended thumb and forefinger in the air, trying to cool them off.
“Careful, Honey, those are hot”, Tara chided playfully.
“Yeah, so I noticed”, the redhead wryly replied, carrying the toast-laden plates over to the stove.
“I’ll fill these up if you could get us drinks”, said Tara, taking the plates and beginning to load them up with eggs.
“Sure”, Willow obliged, returning to the cabinet to get two glasses. “What did you want?”
“Apple juice is fine for me too.”
“Sounds good.”
After a few moments of pouring drinks and setting out utensils, the married couple finally sat down at the center island, nearest to where Emily was perched, and began leisurely eating their eggs and toast.
“What are your plans for this lovely Sunday morning in July?” Willow asked playfully after she had finished munching on one of her toast slices.
“I thought I might do some work outside in the garden”, Tara replied.
“Are you sure, it’s supposed to be really hot today.”
“That’s what sun block is for… and my enormously brimmed straw hat,” the blonde smirked. “Besides, it’s not that hot and the backyard is mostly shaded anyway. It’s a perfect day to spend outside. You should join me.”
“Outside?” asked Willow.
“Sure, why not?”
“No reason”, said the redhead, shifting slightly on her stool. “Except for the fact that the words ‘Sun’ and ‘Willow” generally add up to equal ‘Burn’.”
“I did mention sun block and straw hats, right?” Tara teased, taking another bite of her eggs.
“I know”, Willow muttered, “Just not in the mood today, I guess. I wanted to see if I could get some more done on that new program for work.”
Tara allowed her fork to clatter onto her plate, causing her lover to jump a little at the sound. “It’s Sunday. You know, Sunday? Internationally recognized day of rest. Will, you have been spending so much time on that program that I’ve started to know you more by the back of your head than the front. You’re always on the computer. I guess I should just accept that I’ve become a Macintosh widow.”
“I’m sorry, Baby, I didn’t know it bothered you that much.”
The blonde let out a long sigh. She hadn’t meant to overreact. She placed a hand on top of Willow’s. “You’re at work all day five days a week, and then you come home and go right back to work on your laptop. I miss you sometimes, is all.”
Willow smiled softly, she knew that Tara was right. “I could bring the laptop outside with me?” she offered meekly.
Emily sat in her highchair, clumsily stuffing Cheerio bits into her mouth and sucking on her fingers, watching her parents’ interaction intensely with wide blue eyes.
“No, that’s okay, Will. One of us should stay inside with Emily. The morning sun is getting too high for her to be outside in it.”
“We could lay a blanket out under the tree. There should be enough shade to keep her safe. Plus we have the baby block. We can lather her up good and proper,” stated the redhead.
“That sounds like an idea”, Tara agreed. “But what if she doesn’t want to go outside?”
“Well, why don’t we ask her?” Willow turned to Emily, who was now focusing intently on picking up another piece of cereal from off her tray. She was still in the early stages of mastering her opposable thumb. “Emily?” Her Mama’s voice caused her to look up again. “Do you want to go outside?” The small child regarded her intensely. “Outside?” Willow questioned again. “Outside with Mommy and Mama?” Emily continued to stare. “You know, outside with the birds and the trees and the grass… This will be so much easier when she finally starts to talk,” Willow mumbled to herself.
“Or maybe she doesn’t want to go outside and she’s just being stoic,” suggested Tara.
“Is that true, Emily?” Willow asked, “Are you having an Oz moment?”
Tara chuckled and stood from her seat, taking her and Willow’s now empty plates to the sink and rinsing them off. “It’s okay, Will. You stay inside with Emily.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah”, the blonde stated, shaking the extra moisture from her hands before wiping them off with a dishtowel and crossing over to the backdoor, picking up a pair of gardening gloves from off the top of the refrigerator as she went. “I’ll be in in a little while.”
Willow watched her wife go out the back door. She wasn’t exactly sure that she had handled the situation properly. Tara still seemed a little upset that Willow wasn’t going to join her outside, but the redhead honestly didn’t feel like being out in the sun that day. The air conditioning just felt a little too good, and the living room couch a little too inviting.
Willow stood and grabbed a paper towel, dampening it briefly under the faucet and gently wiping Emily’s face and hands, before using it to clean up the remaining Cheerios on the tray and tossing it in the waste can. She untied the bib from around her daughter’s neck and set that aside before lifting her from the high chair and starting to carry her back to her play pen in the living room.
Emily instantly started to wiggle and whine, pushing against her Mama’s shoulder.
“Emily, what’s wrong? Are you still hungry?” asked Willow as she struggled against her child’s protestations. The baby shook her head and continued to push, her whine becoming a high-pitched squeal that indicated she was about to break into full-blown tears. “Do you want your bib?” Again Emily shook her head, and started grasping at the air over Willow’s shoulder.
Willow turned around and tried to figure out what Emily was indicating at. Assuming she probably wanted her Mommy, Willow crossed to the backdoor and opened it, calling to Tara across the yard. “Baby, can you come here a moment? I think Emily wants you.” It’s true, Emily had calmed significantly when Willow had opened the back door, but still the child continued to fight against her grip.
Tara made it to Willow’s side at once, just inside the kitchen door. The redhead passed the squirming child to her wife and shut the door behind her. Emily let out a wail as the door closed, and this time pushed against Tara, still wanting to be free.
“Sweetheart, what?” Tara asked, trying to calm her baby down. “Mommy’s here, it’s okay.” Her soothing words had no effect. Tara could tell that Emily was trying to get at something. “I’m going to set her down”, she announced bending over and carefully placing Emily on the laminate floor.
Emily quickly calmed again and crawled to the backdoor, using the frame as a grip to unsteadily pull herself to a wobbling standing position. “Odd-todd”, she said, pointing out the bottom corner window of the glass door. “Odd-todd! Odd-todd!”
“What?” Willow asked, confused.
“Odd-todd!” Emily said again.
“Odd-todd…” Tara repeated, “Odd-todd…odd…” She gasped and a huge smile spread across her face. “Odd-todd, Willow! Odd-todd!”
“I don’t get it,” Willow was truly bewildered now.
“Think about it”, encouraged the blonde.
Willow did think about it, and suddenly she couldn’t stop the mile wide grin that engulfed her head, mirroring Tara’s own. “Outside!” she proclaimed, “She wants to go outside! She said her first word! Odd-todd!”
Willow swooped Emily up once again and she and Tara started to dance around the kitchen playfully, holding their child between them.
“Odd-todd, odd-todd, Emily wants to go odd-todd”, Willow warbled as Tara laughed.
“You want to go odd-todd, Emily?” Tara asked between happy giggles.
“Odd-todd!” Emily said, pointing at the door again.
“Okay, then we’ll all go odd-todd”, her Mama announced.
“I’ll get the baby block and her blanket”, said the blonde, running out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“I’ll get the straw hats”, said Willow, opening the basement door and grabbing the hats hanging on a rack just inside.
Tara came dashing back down the stairs, Emily’s blanket draped over her arm, the tube of baby sun block in her hand. “Ready?”
“All set”, her wife smiled.
They stepped up to the back door, as if the prospect of opening it and walking through was going to be the most exciting adventure of their lives. Willow reached out with her free hand and opened it, allowing the soft rays of the sun to stream into the kitchen as they all stepped out onto the back deck. A gentle morning breeze drifted through the air, rustling the trees and making the air smell sweet with morning dew.
“Odd-todd”, Emily whispered reverently.
“That’s right, Emily”, grinned Tara, “Outside.”
*****
“But she didn’t say ‘outside’”, complained Gillian. “She said ‘odd-todd’.”
“She was trying to say ‘outside’ and that’s what matters”, explained Willow as she handed her youngest daughter a basket of rose petals. Throughout the story the two of them had made their way back to the entrance of the room where Emily’s wedding was to take place. Michelle and Sean had greeted them at the door, obediently performing their duties as ushers. Tara and Emily were still in the dressing room making last minute adjustments.
“What was my first word, again?” asked Sean.
“No”, his mother replied.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Your first word was ‘no’”, Willow clarified.
“What was I saying ‘no’ to?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Michelle kept teasing you by trying to steal your binky.”
“My what?!”
“You’re binky”, Michelle stated. “Your pacifier. It was your most favorite thing in the world and you hated having it taken away. So naturally that’s what I enjoyed doing most.”
“You’re evil”, Sean sneered, his eyes narrowing.
“I was three and a half.”
“Still evil.” Sean went on, “I bet your first word was something really dumb like ‘poop’ or something.”
“Actually it was ‘beer’”, stated Willow.
“Beer?” Michelle questioned, a look of shock on her face. Sean tried to stop from laughing, but couldn’t prevent a couple of snorts from escaping his nose. Gillian covered her mouth as she giggled.
“Why was my first word ‘beer’?” her second eldest demanded.
Willow shifted a little uncomfortably in her shoes. “Well, you were a very fussy baby and sometimes we couldn’t get you to calm down enough to go to sleep so we’d sneak a teaspoon of beer into one of your bottles.” The look of horror was still plastered across the teenager’s face. “You hated it”, Willow continued, “you could always tell when we’d slipped you a mickie. One day when we were trying to give you a ‘loaded’ bottle you took one taste and made this really funny face and then you said, ‘beer’ as you pushed it away. It was the last time we ever did that.”
“You were going to turn me into an alcoholic baby!” Michelle protested.
“No we weren’t and it was your mother’s idea”, the redhead said quickly.
“Mom?”
“She said that her mom had done it for her when she was a baby and that it was such a small amount and so diluted by the milk that it wouldn’t do anything more than make you sleepy. And since your mom obviously turned out just fine, I didn’t argue.”
Michelle could do nothing but stand there with a total look of disgust and humiliation as her siblings continued to laugh at her expense.
“Mama, what did I say first?” Gillian finally inquired.
Willow smiled fondly, “You, sweetness, you’re first word was ‘up’. You loved for us to carry you and you really loved trying to climb up on things, and still do.”
Gillian grinned. Tara came up behind her from down the hall. “Are we all set?”
“Yep”, affirmed Willow, “Where’s Em?”
“She’s on her way, she said she wanted a quick ‘alone moment’,” Tara explained.
“Someone should tell the groom we’re about to start,” suggested Michelle, still trying to recover from her ruffled feathers.
“Xander will tell him once the music starts.” Said Willow.
“How will they know to start the music?” asked Sean.
“We shut the doors once Emily gets here,” sighed Gillian, “don’t remember anything from the rehearsal?”
“Do you think he’s nervous”, asked Michelle as she indicated the tuxedoed young man at the end of the aisle.
“He’s probably petrified”, said Willow, “I know I am.” She finished in a mumble under breath. “I don’t think I’m ready for this”, she said, turning to Tara.
“I know what you mean”, the blonde agreed. “It seems like only yesterday that he came to house and asked for our permission to marry her.”
“Are you kidding?” squeaked Willow, “It seems like only yesterday that the two of them were playing board games in our living room.”
At the end of the aisle, the groom nervously looked over his shoulder to where his future in-laws were standing and gave them a sheepish wave. A gentle pat on his shoulder caused him to turn to his father’s gaze.
‘It’s okay, Joe’, signed Xander, ‘everyone is nervous on their wedding day. Don’t forget, it took your mom and I five tries before we finally tied the knot.’
Joseph Harris nodded, and swallowed a gulp.
*****
To Be Continued in the next vignette....
Edited by: DarkWiccan at: 12/21/03 7:43 pm