Disclaimer: Thomas Cooper, Lavinia Cooper, and Neddy Cooper all belong to me.
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Thomas's shoulders tightened. He wasn't looking forward to this.
The townhouse was quiet and dark, the tidy but spare furniture looming in the dark. Lavinia didn't like the budget he'd given her for decorating the house. She liked things that were gilded, covered in velvet, draped with embroidery. A teacher's salary couldn't afford that.
He crept up the carpeted stairs. A light shone faintly in the hallway above him. Lavinia never remembered to turn of the lights. Her maid usually did it, but as he recalled, Lavinia had given her the night off. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his spectacles.
Thomas tapped open the door to the bedroom. The large bed was neatly made, the pillows plumped and untouched. He touched the satin cover that Lavinia insisted he purchase. It was cold and slick under his fingers. His heart sat heavily at the button of his ribcage; his fingertips felt numb.
He walked through the door that connected his room to his wife's boudoir. It was brightly, every lamp blaring. The wardrobe doors stood open at crooked angles. Discarded little shoes and pumps scattered across the floor, interspersed with fans, handbags, gloves, perfume bottles…and a folded piece of paper.
Thomas knew what the letter contained before he opened it.
Thomas, darling, I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I think we both know this was going to end. I'm just so bored with you and the baby, I want something different. Fabrizi's taking me to Italy with him. Don't bother looking for us. I'll be just fine. Maybe sometime I'll come back and visit. Always think fondly of your little Lavinia.
Thomas didn't have the strength to crumple the letter. He let it fall to the floor onto the thick Persian rug. With a slow movement he ground it into the pile with the toe of his shoe.
He should be sad. He should go after her. He should be heartbroken.
But she wasn't worth it.
Lavinia was sixteen when they married, a bored silly debutante who married the first older man her parents approved of. When she was eighteen, she was bored with being married and she begged for a baby.
Now she was twenty-one, and she was bored with everything.
He should have known better. He should have realized she was silly and flighty and she wasn't the wifely, motherly type. But she was beautiful, with an innocent perfect face and her cloud of wispy dark hair and her angelic voice.
Beauty was no substitute for love. Of course, he hadn't realized it at the time. But when their daughter was born, the little daughter with clear trusting eyes, he realized what love truly was. And he knew then what would someday, inevitably come.
Thomas turned off the light, switching them off with vicious jerks and clicks. The room sank into darkness. He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him with a definitive bang.
A soft cry echoed down the hall. Thomas followed the sound. The door to his daughter's nursery was shut tightly. He knew why. Lavinia hated the sound of their baby's cries. Well, maybe the baby wouldn't cry if someone paid attention to her.
Thomas turned on the bedside lamp, casting a warm, homey glow over the pale blue and cream nursery. His little daughter sat up in her crib, her dark brown hair mussed and her gray eyes bleary. "Papa?" she whimpered.
"Hello, little dear," he said softly. "Hello, Neddy."
Neddy rubbed her tiny fist against her cheek. "Up, Papa," she said.
Thomas reached into the crib and lifted her into his arms. The three year old was soft and warm in his embrace, her soft round cheek pressed against his frozen one. "Did I wake you up, Neddy?" he asked.
"Iss," she yawned.
He pressed her head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry, darling," he said. "I won't do it again."
Neddy's tiny soft hands plucked at his shirt. Thomas looked into her piquant little face, and his heart broke. Lavinia had never been much of a mother, but she was better than nothing. Now Neddy would grow up without even knowing her mother, much less having a mother's care or guidance.
"Neddy," he whispered in her soft ear. "Neddy, I'm going to do my best." He kissed her lightly on the side of her head. "I'll do whatever I can. I'll be father and mother to you."
Neddy pulled back, looking up into his face. "Mama?" she said. "Where Mama? Where Neddy's mama?"
Thomas clutched her to his chest. "You don't have a mama," he said brokenly. "All you've got is me."
Neddy patted her hand against his cheek. "I have Papa," she said. "Neddy has her papa." She wrapped her small arms around his neck. Thomas fell on his knees in the softly lit nursery, cradling his baby daughter in his arms.
They were all they had left.
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Author's Note:
Yeah, I know, egotistical much, writing a one-shot based on my own book. But this has been burning in my mind for about a year now, and I had to something with it. Neddy is one of my favorite characters, and definitely one of the most fun to write.
The title comes from a line in my favorite show, Into the Woods.
"How will I go about being a father with no one to mother my child?
"Be father and mother, you'll know what to do."
If you want to read the book where Neddy comes from, PM me and I'll send you the link.