Rose 2.44: Childish

     When Mama finds out about the new baby on the way, she goes into a rage, even worse than she did the night Willow arrived. Papa is the only one that can control her. Mama claims that Willow has now trapped me, and she asks her if she's proud of herself. This is when I step in and inform my mother that I'd had to beg and plead with her to stay, that Willow wanted to go off and raise the child alone but I didn't want her to. My tone makes Mama cry, and I feel like donkey manure.
     Our little family argument does nothing to help my cause of getting Willow to sleep-sleep with me. I know that if I could only convince her to share a room with me that we would feel more like a couple to her. I try very hard to keep myself from outright seducing her. That would only work for one night and might actually make things worse. I want her to come to me, and I frequently make it very clear to her that all she would have to do would be the smallest of things and I would be hers. She still doesn't trust it.

     One morning, I go to put Lorenzo in his swing for a while and find Willow on the floor in his room, playing with one of his toys. A look of childlike happiness makes her whole countenance glow. Thankfully, Zo-zo stays quiet as I watch her. She's gotten a new nightgown, probably since I'd made it clear the old one turned me on to the point of being rabid about it. This new one is also very nice, and my eyes happily travel across the plunging neckline.
     "Zo-zo horsie," Lorenzo says, breaking the spell.
     Willow looks up, utterly startled. "Sorry!" She scrambles to her feet, and I drift towards her. "Here you are, Zo-zo. I was taking care of it for you." She hands my son back his toy. Then, she speaks to me, not looking at my face. "I thought we might go see what we can find at the dump today. You know, maybe there's a countertop."
     Look at me! I scream in my head. Lorenzo starts hitting me in the face with his horsie. I scowl and get him to stop before putting him securely in his swing. "If that's what you really want," I tell her, and she continues to look everywhere but at me. If only she would, she would see just how very much I like the new gown.
     "Thanks!" she breathes and escapes the room before I can say another word.

     One night when I get home from work, I notice Mama heavily flirting with Papa. She's taken to wearing all black to mourn Tiffany. Willow sits watching one of her new favorite shows, and my parents don't bother to move. They're not in the way, but I do notice Willow looks uncomfortable. I can't help but think that Mama is flaunting her loving relationship with her husband, saying without saying that Willow will never have that. Then, I ponder how it is that I actually picked up on this because Papa remains oblivious. He wouldn't be cruel to Willow. He accepts her, understanding that life is rougher for some than others.
     My mother leads my father into their bedroom with a happy giggle. Normally, I wouldn't think much of it. My parents have always been like that.

     But Willow is probably not used to it, and I wonder to myself if her own parents were ever in love. She does her best to hide her discomfort, but I'm beginning to see through her outer shell.
     I get up and wash my plate.

     "So, tell me. What is it about this show that you like so much?" I ask as I go to sit down next to her.
     "It's a kids' show, Donovan. You don't have to watch it with me," she says, and I hear her defensiveness right away.

     I sit and watch the show with her. A couple of times, she looks over at me like she wonders why I'm sitting here.
     "They dance the slap-hand dance from sims 2. Then, the bunny shows up. Then, everyone runs by laughing," I state, trying to understand the fascination.
     "That's my favorite part," she says quietly.

     I smile and turn to her. "You like things meant for children!" I remember her playing with Zo-zo's toys.
     She turns to me and lightly snaps, "Says the man with his teddy bear nearby."
     I lean towards her, still smiling. "I like my teddy bear."

     I reach over and start lightly running my fingers through her hair. "As a boy, I couldn't sleep through a thunderstorm without him."
     "There was a thunderstorm last night," she points out.
     "Yes, and I was still very anxious. I don't like them," I admit. It's another thing that makes me hate the outdoors.
     "Well, you had your bear."
     "He was inadequate. It's not his fault, though. He couldn't replace the one I really wanted to hold in my arms." I slide closer to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder.

     "Smooth, Don Robles," she tells me facetiously.
     "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," I playfully lie, and she knows it.
     "You just can't help yourself, can you?"
     "Not if I'm sitting next to a beautiful lady," I reply and very quickly tilt my head to the side to peck her lips. I smile victoriously to her look of surprise.

     She returns to watching her show. I sit and watch her. She knows I'm watching her, and she knows I know she knows I'm watching her. For a long time, that is all I do.
     Willow. is. beautiful. I've always thought that. Her features are perfect. Her violet eyes are so unusual. Her nose is the perfect shape. Her lips are like a rose. Her jaw tells me, 'Donovan, run your finger down the side of me.' I want to, but I tell it to wait because all I am doing now is looking.
     Her show will end soon, and she will go to the little house to go to sleep. I wish she wouldn't. I lean forward and ask low into her ear, "Spend the night with me, Willow."
     Her breathing gets fast and shallow while she stares straight ahead. I don't think she is watching the show right now.
      I decide to push just a little more this evening. "I so long to hold you in my arms while we sleep." I want to kiss her ear, but I know that will only make me want more. So I hold myself back. Otherwise, I would ruin my effort to convince her that all we would do would be sleeping. --that is, unless she starts something. Then, I wouldn't be able to resist.

     She turns to me and asks in a normal tone, "You don't give up easily, do you?"
     Dam-! I inwardly curse, but she's right. I keep going. "Not if I think I stand even the smallest chance." I take a breath. "I will keep trying."
     Her show ends.
     "Just sleeping?" she questions timidly.
     I reach up and stroke her face. It will be very difficult, but "Yes," I answer.

     I hold the mother of my next child in my arms tonight while we sleep. This isn't the first time I've slept with Willow, but I count this time as a fantastic victory.

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