Raison d'etre
Note: Yet another Moe-centric fan fiction dealing with Moe's views on life before Lynn ever enters into the picture. Homer and Marge have gone on vacation and left Bart, Lisa and Maggie home. Homer couldn't' think of a better babysitter than Moe, and Moe discovers something about himself he never knew…his capacity to become paternal.
Chapter 1--A Favor to Ask
After a long night of work, Moe had enjoyed a long, peaceful night's rest dreaming of the days to come when he could retire and move to the docks. At least there he could find like-minded people and start making new friends but inwardly he realized Springfield would always be a part of his heart and his life. It would never leave him. His old buddies, particularly Homer, had always been there for him when the chips were down and he was feeling terrible about his luck.
In the morning, he started as he usually did. Moe didn't see much reason in primping himself up or grooming but he always managed to have a clean, resolute look, impeccable clothing and the finest musk money could buy. He didn't bathe in it after a bath, but splashed only a little on himself. It mingled well with his chemistry, giving him a pleasant aura. He brushed his teeth and began to shave. Suddenly the phone rang and he nicked himself.
"Ow, damn !", he swore, looking at the blood that surfaced to his face. He placed a bandage over the cut and raced out of the bathroom, white terry-cloth towel around his waist.
"Syszlak residence.", he said, formally.
"Moe ! It's good to hear from you, old buddy !", Homer's familiar voice exclaimed, happily.
"What is it Homer ?", Moe said, glad to hear the voice of an old friend.
"I have a favor to ask.", Homer said.
"What's that ?", Moe responded, curiously.
"Marge and I are going on a vacation. Call it a second honeymoon. We needed time away from the gremlins…I mean, the kids, so…", Homer began.
"You want me to baby-sit them.", Moe retorted, smartly. He had baby-sat Maggie before, so such a thing wouldn't be a problem. He was glad that Homer trusted him so much. Besides, he had a bit of a crush on Marge, so at least he could welcome her back with a tight hug, maybe even cop a feel while he was at it.
"Yep ! We're leaving tomorrow, so bring whatever you can. We'll be gone for about 3 weeks.", Homer said, his voice on the verge of being giddy. Fortunately, Moe was quite an excellent cook so he would be able to keep the Simpson children fed. This couldn't have come at a better time either because secretly, Moe had been wondering why he woke up every morning and began the day with the same old routine and felt so empty inside. He admitted, it had to be depression gnawing at his heart, but having something worthwhile to do actually made him happy once again. For once in his existence, he looked forward to waking up the following day and preparing himself for an experience he would not soon forget.
Chapter 2--A Twinge of the Heart
The next day, Moe had arrived at the Simpsons' residence and as expected, the kids were happy to see him. Maggie crawled up to him first and he lifted her off the ground. She cooed, giggled and smiled as he raised her up and down.
"Oopsie daisy !" he said, playfully while lifting her. She was having the time of her life.
"Maggie's always pleased to see you.", Lisa said, stating the obvious.
"Can't help it if I like to play favorites.", Moe said, winking at Lisa and laughing. Maggie began to stink a bit, so Moe excused himself.
"I'll be back in a few, kids. Make yourself comfortable at the dinner table and I'll make supper for all of us.", he said, rushing Maggie to the changing tables.
Maggie's diapers were rank but he didn't mind cleaning her one bit. She never cried when she saw him, and that always surprised him. With such an ugly mug as his, he had the face only a mother could love, which was in his case, a mother who left him in an orphanage for dead. He began to see she was getting fussy. Apparently she was just as hungry as Bart and Lisa were. With great speed and precision, he prepared pizza casserole and a bottle for Maggie. In no time, everyone was fed. Lisa went out to walk Santa's Little Helper and Bart went out to play in the arcades with Millhouse. Moe advised him to be home by curfew, but he didn't have to be told numerous times. He'd do what he was told although his rebellious side would get the best of him typically.
Moe was playing games with Maggie until she started getting sleepy.
"I think it's time for a bath and then I'll put you to beddie-by.", he said, picking her up. She snuggled against his heart, nuzzling it lovingly. His heart felt a twinge, like it had never felt before. He wondered,
"Is it possible for a grouch like me to ever become a father ? Could the universe be that crazy ?" He shrugged, shoving the question to the back of his subconscious and prepared a bath for Maggie.
Playfully, Maggie splashed around and got Moe quite soaked in the process.
"Looks like I won't be needing a bath anytime soon, huh, sweetheart ?", he said, poking her belly and making her laugh. He adored hearing her laugh. It was the most precious, angelic music he had ever heard. As soon as he wrapped her up in a towel and dressed her in her tiny pajamas for bed, Maggie said, softly,
"Dada."
"No, honey. I'm not your daddy.", he said, chuckling a bit.
"Dada.", she said, poking his nose.
"No, Homer's your daddy. Not me.", he said, once more.
"Dada…", she said, kissing his nose, softly and closing her eyes. Moe felt his eyes pool with tears.
"She called me dad…Me !", he thought as he bit his lip to keep the tears from coming. He had never felt such overwhelming elation before. He wondered, while he was there with her if he thought prayer might help his situation. He loved Maggie dearly and now he had been honored with the greatest title of all, "Father".
He watched her sleep as he knelt down by her crib.
"God, I know I don't talk to you as much as I should but…Arrghh…It's so hard to speak with you. I feel unworthy…small. But this precious little girl here has opened my heart and eyes. God, I want to be a father someday. I don't care when it happens. Even if it doesn't, I thank you for letting at least one other soul here on this rotten, miserable rock love me back. And I am so happy !", he said. He wiped his tears again and blew his nose on a handkerchief that came from his surrogate father.
Chapter 3--Bittersweet Goodbyes
It was incredible how quickly two weeks passed. The Simpson family had arrived home and were glad to see that Bart had caused little if no trouble. The only trouble he had gotten in was a small fight with Nelson, which resulted in Nelson running home and crying to his mom once Moe threatened his life. Bart had never been so thankful for cutlery in his whole life. It really was a marvel at how Moe could handle a steak knife so beautifully, and with such poise. It made him wonder in the back of his mind if Moe should become a Japanese chef in his spare time.
Of all the children in the Simpson household, Maggie found it the most difficult to say farewell to Moe. She kept clinging to him, wanting to travel alongside him.
"Hey, if she wants to go that badly, let him take her !", Homer said, jokingly.
"Yeah, one less sister !", Bart agreed, and Lisa slapped him upside the head.
"Ow.", he murmured, his ego shattered a bit. Maggie, finally being pried from Moe's arms got a bit teary-eyed.
"Honey, you know I'll be back to see you again. You know Unca Moe loves you.", he said, kissing her, and she smiled.
"It's like she truly understands…Remarkable.", Lisa thought. With that, Moe was given his baby-sitting dues and he went back home to reflect on the weekend he had experienced.
Epilogue
On his digital camera, Moe laughed out loud at the photos he had taken of the Simpson family and "awed" at little Maggie. No matter what position she was in, whatever she was doing, she was an angel. Sure she could be a handful and Moe knew she was a genius. He wondered what she would be when she grew up and looked forward to the next time he would be holding her in his arms, hearing the precious word he held onto so dearly, for this word was his raison d'etre. Whatever else reared its ugly head in his trying existence, knowing someone loved him was all that he cared about and all that mattered because he could freely and willingly return it knowing that he would always be fulfilled 100 fold and even more than that.
The End