I toss and turn several times, but I just can't get to sleep. The
combination of the gentle whirr of the air conditioner, the sloshing of the
water from the washing machine, the somewhat noisy activities of the sugar
glider which was kept out in the hall, and the inhaling and exhaling of my
wife who was lying beside me were keeping me awake. She moans slightly in
her sleep and I smile to myself, hoping she's having sweet dreams. We had
been married for nearly four years now. It was the best decision I had
ever made in my life. I loved her more than anything else in the world,
with every ounce of my soul.
I still remember our wedding day. April 30th, in the middle of the glorious spring time. There were flowers of every type and colour there, their sweet aromas mixing and completely filling the air. It was a bit nausiating, I admit, but she loved it and that was all that mattered. It was a small out door ceremony with only a little more than sixty-five guests which was held in a park not too far from my apartment. I remember the pure white gazeebo we stood under while we recited our vows, with not a single chip of paint on it and salmon pink roses climbing up the side. It was perfect.
And she was perfect.
My memory of her was clearer than any photograph could capture. Her long hair was loose in waves down her back, the top layer in tight spiral curls that bounced as she walked down the aisle. Her eyes were so beautiful, accented wonderfully by the soft pink and lavender tones of her eyeshadow, gazing at me so adoringly from beneath the thin white vail. A huge grin played across her gorgeous face, showing off her beautiful ivory teeth. Oh how I longed to rip off that vail and no longer allow anything, not even air, to come between myself and those sweet tasting bubblegum lips of hers...When we first made eye contact at the alter, she blushed and quickly looked down at her bouquet of purple and yellow tulips she held, a rosey tinge spreading across her flawless light skin. My smile couldn't help but broaden as I looked her over, still not believing that she was really mine. She was just so beautiful...and the dress.
Oh, the dress.
At first she was a little timid of wearing a dress, claiming she just wouldn't look good in a wedding gown. Ha, that was the biggest untruth in the galaxy. No one could have looked better in it. It was pure white with lace trims and see through sleeves. The skirt was full with a short train, real-looking false white roses decorating the hem and seams. Seeing her like this made me forget that she had ever been in love with someone else once before.
And almost that the flower girl was her daughter.
I was brought back to the present by a small cracking sound coming from the hallway. Myrrh, the sugar glider, must have been cracking open a seed. The sugar glider was Elizabeth's pet. Yes, eight-year-old Elizabeth. I remember the first day we got it for her.
My wife thought it would be a good idea to get her a pet, since she was an only child and often got lonely. Which is why we went to a pet shop looking for one. We would never have the time to take care of a dog or cat, not with her working long hours at her office firm and me still in med school, so we told Lizzie she could pick out any small animal she wanted.
I still remember her expression when she first came face to face with Myrrh, her eyes big and wide with curiosity. "OoOoh! Is that a flying squirrel?"
"That's a sugar glider, actually," the store manager had corrected her.
"Oh. It's so cute! Can we get this one?"
"Erm...a hundred dollars for a rodent?" At first we had no intentions of spending *that* much on a pet.
"But it comes all the way from Australia," she read off the sign by the display. "That's a good price for something that was shipped all the way here." She nodded knowingly, as if she had any idea how much importing cost.
"Well, we'd still have to buy a cage and food..."
"It says here they eat a vuh...vuhraty of fruits and nuts," she stumbled slightly over 'variety.' "That won't cost much at all."
"Honey, fruit's not cheap..."
"But we won't have to spend anything on any special food. We'll have everything we need right in the fridge."
I had to laugh. Little kids always had a way of making anything sound reasonable. "Well, who would take care of it?"
"Me!" she quickly volunteered.
"You'll clean its cage and feed it?"
"All by myself!" she nodded. "Pleeeeeease, Daddy?"
Everytime she called me daddy it always stirred something deep inside of me. She treated me like a dad, looked up to me like a dad, and indeed loved me just as if I was her real father...even though I'm not.
Her real dad left her mom before she was born...the moment he found out she was pregnant. So Lizzie never really got to know him. Which is fine by me, she'd never have to know what a complete asshole he was.
More than anything, I wanted to protect her from that. From knowing that her real father had no love for her at all. That he had deeply hurt her mother. That he probably didn't much care if either of them were still alive. Because I loved her.
Even if she wasn't my child, I still love her.
Even though I legally adopted her, and even though my wife insisted she called me dad, explained that she desparately needed a father figure, that still didn't make her *my* child. But that was ok. I loved her anyway, and I would always take care of both her and her mother. I would never run out on them like Jamie Waite had done.
Even though Lizzie's dark hair and eyes contrasted horribly with my blonde hair and blue eyes, and even though it was quite obvious to anyone who looked that she wasn't my kid, none of that mattered. I would always love her and treat her as if she was.
I loved her anyway.
I rolled over on to my other side, still trying to coax sleep into my tired body.
"Tyler Connel, if you don't stop tossing and turning, I'm going to sleep on the couch," my wife moaned exasperatedly.
I laughed. "Sorry, Caitie. I love you."
"I love you too," she replyed. "Now please, good night."
*
*
*
*
A/N: Anyone who knows me would know that Jamie or Caitie being pared up with anyone but the other is literally a taboo in my writing. I honestly have no idea why I wrote this ficlet. I have insomnia and was up late last night just thinking, when this idea came into my head and my brain just wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote it all down. I completed this around 3 am, after which I finally managed to fall asleep. I think it's pretty good for being written at the wee hours of the morning, though about halfway through it I put in one of my Green Day CD's and started rocking to them, which totally killed the fluffy mood I was in which is why the ending is so lousy lol :P Ah well, please R/R and tell me how well or poor my muses work at 3:00 in the morning ^_^ And also I'd like to dedicate this fic to me mate Lizzie, who just gave me all the neopoints I still needed to get a Darigan paint brush while I was typing this ^_^ Thanks a bunch Lizzie :) And thanks a bunch to everyone who has the heart to review this, as this is probably the only Tyler/Caitie fic I will ever write in my life
I still remember our wedding day. April 30th, in the middle of the glorious spring time. There were flowers of every type and colour there, their sweet aromas mixing and completely filling the air. It was a bit nausiating, I admit, but she loved it and that was all that mattered. It was a small out door ceremony with only a little more than sixty-five guests which was held in a park not too far from my apartment. I remember the pure white gazeebo we stood under while we recited our vows, with not a single chip of paint on it and salmon pink roses climbing up the side. It was perfect.
And she was perfect.
My memory of her was clearer than any photograph could capture. Her long hair was loose in waves down her back, the top layer in tight spiral curls that bounced as she walked down the aisle. Her eyes were so beautiful, accented wonderfully by the soft pink and lavender tones of her eyeshadow, gazing at me so adoringly from beneath the thin white vail. A huge grin played across her gorgeous face, showing off her beautiful ivory teeth. Oh how I longed to rip off that vail and no longer allow anything, not even air, to come between myself and those sweet tasting bubblegum lips of hers...When we first made eye contact at the alter, she blushed and quickly looked down at her bouquet of purple and yellow tulips she held, a rosey tinge spreading across her flawless light skin. My smile couldn't help but broaden as I looked her over, still not believing that she was really mine. She was just so beautiful...and the dress.
Oh, the dress.
At first she was a little timid of wearing a dress, claiming she just wouldn't look good in a wedding gown. Ha, that was the biggest untruth in the galaxy. No one could have looked better in it. It was pure white with lace trims and see through sleeves. The skirt was full with a short train, real-looking false white roses decorating the hem and seams. Seeing her like this made me forget that she had ever been in love with someone else once before.
And almost that the flower girl was her daughter.
I was brought back to the present by a small cracking sound coming from the hallway. Myrrh, the sugar glider, must have been cracking open a seed. The sugar glider was Elizabeth's pet. Yes, eight-year-old Elizabeth. I remember the first day we got it for her.
My wife thought it would be a good idea to get her a pet, since she was an only child and often got lonely. Which is why we went to a pet shop looking for one. We would never have the time to take care of a dog or cat, not with her working long hours at her office firm and me still in med school, so we told Lizzie she could pick out any small animal she wanted.
I still remember her expression when she first came face to face with Myrrh, her eyes big and wide with curiosity. "OoOoh! Is that a flying squirrel?"
"That's a sugar glider, actually," the store manager had corrected her.
"Oh. It's so cute! Can we get this one?"
"Erm...a hundred dollars for a rodent?" At first we had no intentions of spending *that* much on a pet.
"But it comes all the way from Australia," she read off the sign by the display. "That's a good price for something that was shipped all the way here." She nodded knowingly, as if she had any idea how much importing cost.
"Well, we'd still have to buy a cage and food..."
"It says here they eat a vuh...vuhraty of fruits and nuts," she stumbled slightly over 'variety.' "That won't cost much at all."
"Honey, fruit's not cheap..."
"But we won't have to spend anything on any special food. We'll have everything we need right in the fridge."
I had to laugh. Little kids always had a way of making anything sound reasonable. "Well, who would take care of it?"
"Me!" she quickly volunteered.
"You'll clean its cage and feed it?"
"All by myself!" she nodded. "Pleeeeeease, Daddy?"
Everytime she called me daddy it always stirred something deep inside of me. She treated me like a dad, looked up to me like a dad, and indeed loved me just as if I was her real father...even though I'm not.
Her real dad left her mom before she was born...the moment he found out she was pregnant. So Lizzie never really got to know him. Which is fine by me, she'd never have to know what a complete asshole he was.
More than anything, I wanted to protect her from that. From knowing that her real father had no love for her at all. That he had deeply hurt her mother. That he probably didn't much care if either of them were still alive. Because I loved her.
Even if she wasn't my child, I still love her.
Even though I legally adopted her, and even though my wife insisted she called me dad, explained that she desparately needed a father figure, that still didn't make her *my* child. But that was ok. I loved her anyway, and I would always take care of both her and her mother. I would never run out on them like Jamie Waite had done.
Even though Lizzie's dark hair and eyes contrasted horribly with my blonde hair and blue eyes, and even though it was quite obvious to anyone who looked that she wasn't my kid, none of that mattered. I would always love her and treat her as if she was.
I loved her anyway.
I rolled over on to my other side, still trying to coax sleep into my tired body.
"Tyler Connel, if you don't stop tossing and turning, I'm going to sleep on the couch," my wife moaned exasperatedly.
I laughed. "Sorry, Caitie. I love you."
"I love you too," she replyed. "Now please, good night."
*
*
*
*
A/N: Anyone who knows me would know that Jamie or Caitie being pared up with anyone but the other is literally a taboo in my writing. I honestly have no idea why I wrote this ficlet. I have insomnia and was up late last night just thinking, when this idea came into my head and my brain just wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote it all down. I completed this around 3 am, after which I finally managed to fall asleep. I think it's pretty good for being written at the wee hours of the morning, though about halfway through it I put in one of my Green Day CD's and started rocking to them, which totally killed the fluffy mood I was in which is why the ending is so lousy lol :P Ah well, please R/R and tell me how well or poor my muses work at 3:00 in the morning ^_^ And also I'd like to dedicate this fic to me mate Lizzie, who just gave me all the neopoints I still needed to get a Darigan paint brush while I was typing this ^_^ Thanks a bunch Lizzie :) And thanks a bunch to everyone who has the heart to review this, as this is probably the only Tyler/Caitie fic I will ever write in my life