Hello all :) I felt the need to crank something out for Valentine's Day...about three days ago. And, despite a million obstacles, including my own procrastination, here it is! This is also another response to the A Picture is Worth a 1000 Words Challenge, #10: The Polish. Enjoy the fluff!
Much thanks to mr-and-mrs-bates for being my eyes.
I'd love if you'd be willing to take a moment to leave a little message for me. Reviews are like writer-oxygen.
"I shouldn't be out too late. Maybe back around 10?" She popped around the doorframe, earrings in hand.
John had looked up at the sound of Anna's heels clicking on the tile of the kitchen floor and he peered over the back of the sofa from the adjoining living room. His football match on the telly looking dismal, he was on his way to a quick snooze. She definitely grabbed his attention. Eyeing her from head to toe, he pulled himself up from the cushions to meet her.
"You look amazing." He sounded husky. Honesty was always the best policy, after all.
Looking into the glass of the cabinets, she used the faint reflection to secure her earrings. "Love, I've worn this a hundred times," she mumbled distractedly.
"And you've looked amazing in it every time," he approached slowly, taking the time to appreciate her. The simple, black dress was practically built for her frame. Coupled with her soft, blonde curls, minimal jewelry and makeup, her beauty was understated and overwhelmingly apparent to him.
"What would I do without you?" she purred.
Something about the way she said it implied he'd get his answer when she returned from her girls night out, and possibly something more. He reached for her hips, pulling her in for a soft kiss.
She couldn't let herself get carried away or distracted by her husband right now. Anna opted for a change in subject. "How was Jack when you left him?" she asked.
"Him? Just fine! He said 'bye dad' and ran off with Charlie and George. Didn't look back once." He tried to put on a good face, but he was a little saddened by it all. "Once he had his friends in his sights, 'Good Old Dad' got kicked to the curb."
"Oh John, don't be too upset, you know he loves you. He's just excited about his sleepover. A whole weekend away from home… Don't you remember being that excited?" Anna cajoled.
He grumbled slightly. She knew she got him with that one. "It doesn't make it hurt any less, though."
"You silly beggar." she smoothed her hands down the front of his shirt, "Well, you're still a king in Emma's eyes and you've got a whole evening to bask in it, don't you?"
"That we do," He was drawing in a breath to continue when Anna's head turned towards the door at the sound of a honked horn.
"Blimey, that'll be Gwen." She flitted around for a moment to collect her purse and check her reflection one last time.
"You have a jacket or something? Fall is definitely in the air out there," he waved his hand while he spoke.
"I have a shawl by the door," she reassured. "I'll be fine, John. I'll see you later. I love you." She pressed a quick peck to his lips and in a flash, she was off.
As the door clicked shut behind her, he stood in the kitchen hearing nothing but the faint chatter of the announcers. Northampton scored three more goals on his Sheffield United since he left the couch. Scratching the back of his head, he shuffled to the remote controller to switch it off.
Silence rang through the house. His eyebrows knit together as he tilted his head to get a better listen. Any parent knows that silence is dangerous. As he approached the stairs, he still couldn't hear anything. Nearing the bedroom door decorated with a large, pink, polka-dotted 'E', he leaned his ear towards it. He turned the knob and opened it slowly to reveal her small frame standing amidst an array of pink, fluffy tulle and satiny fabrics, pretend-heels and tiaras. In her hands was a card.
"There's my girl." He smiled broadly, "What are you doing, princess?"
"Daddy," she sounded serious, "what's a…va..val..val-tine?" She looked up at him, her blue eyes meeting his.
"What's brought this on?" He climbed over the piles of clothes to kneel next to her.
"It's on this." She held out the card for him to take.
Looking closer at it, his eyebrows quirked. It was a Valentine's card he had given Anna a number of years ago. A number of questions ran through his head. How did she come across this? How did she even read that? She's only five. That's what happens in a reading family, I suppose.
"Darling, where did you get this?"
"I found it."
"Did you go through Mummy's things?"
She shook her head rapidly, her blonde curls shaking loose around her face. "It was here, Daddy! It was in my dress-up clothes!"
Dress-up clothes…of course. He began to recognize items he'd seen Anna wear some time ago. She must've placed the card in her drawer and it got tangled up between the things she'd offered to Emma.
"It's alright, but this is Mummy's. I gave it to her a long time ago for Valentine's Day and, I think she's been looking for it."
She nodded, but still looked at him questioningly. "Daddy...what's a val-tine?"
He laughed gently before responding. "A 'valentine' is a person who loves someone."
Her expressions changed a number of times as she thought. He could almost see the wheels turning.
"I want a Valentine," she said decidedly.
He chuckled at that. "One day, you will, my darling."
"No. I want you to be my valentine."
"Sweetheart, Valentine's Day is in February. It's only October now."
Her face scrunched while she thought some more. "So...you can only love someone in February?"
He blinked. That was some logic he couldn't argue with. "Eh...well...no. You have a point there," he conceded. "I've loved you every single moment since you were born, and even long before that." He tucked a blonde curl behind her ear as she beamed at him.
Wrapping her little arms around his neck, they could barely reach around completely. Her whisper tickled his ear. "I love you too, Daddy."
If she only knew the hold she had over him. He was a goner from the moment she entered the world, but it was moments like this one that his heart melted down to pure liquid. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his little girl. He unraveled himself from her grasp and held her hands in his own and asked, "Emma, will you be my Valentine?"
She giggled and nodded energetically. His own smile creased his eyes.
"Well, my darling, I think a Valentine's date is called for, what do you say? If we're going to treat this like Valentine's Day, we're going to pull out all the stops. We'll get dressed up, have some tea…"
"Paint our nails!" Emma interjected.
"...eh, yes, I can paint your nails, and let's see… dinner and a movie?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, eliciting another round of giggles.
Anna stepped outside into the cool air. The noise from the bar was muffled as the door swished closed. Her ears were ringing slightly. Gwen and Mary insisted on having a "fun" girls night out, but to be truthful, they were all getting a bit old for the nightlife. Charlie's mom already called to give an update on the boys' sleepover. Satisfied Jack was doing well, her curiosity was piqued to check up on John and Emma.
He answered on the fourth ring. She pursed her lips at the strange sounds coming from her phone. Did he drop the phone? Finally, garbled voices came through, "Hello, my darling…" and "Hi Mummy!" overlapped.
"Hello my loves, I just wanted to check up and see how you're doing."
"Oh, we're just fine, how's the big night on the town'?"
"It's alright, truth be told, I'm a little tired. But we won't be out too late...I hope."
"Mummy, we have to go finish our nails now!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt you two. By all means," she laughed.
"Sorry, love," John said. "I'll see you soon, alright? Duty calls," he laughed. "I love you."
"I love you too." She sighed as she ended the call, rolling her head to stretch slightly before turning to join her friends.
John dropped the phone awkwardly from the crook of his neck. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to get it there in the first place. Emma had his right hand planted firmly on the tea table before him. Her little tongue jutted out of her mouth as she pointed the nail polish brush at his nails, trying to keep the glittery lacquer inbounds. In the midst of the phone ringing, he'd managed to palm it and balance it by his ear without smudging all of her hard work on his left hand.
Apparently, pampering her nails with the John Bates Spa Treatment was not enough. She insisted on taking a turn herself; and that meant offering up his own, much larger, hands to her whims. The dolls at their table were given "tea" in their cups as they were very much a part of the festivities as well.
"All done!" She declared proudly.
He lifted his fingers up to make a grand show of inspecting her handiwork. All in all, she did very well. For so young, she managed to stay on target, keeping most of the paint on the nails where it belonged. Only a few drops made it to the drip cloth he laid down on the table as an afterthought. Just considering Anna's reaction should anything get all over the furniture was enough to make him proactive.
"Do you like it, Daddy?" She leaned forward on the edge of her seat, biting her lip in anticipation.
Do I really enjoy having my nails pink?... "Of course, princess! You've done wonderfully!"
"Yay!" She sprung from her chair, tipping over several of her "party guests" from their seats at the table. Her blue Cinderella dress flounced about during her short victory dance. "Do you think Mummy will like it too?"
"I think Mummy will be very proud of you," he chuckled. "I'll tell you, Daddy's gotten pretty hungry with all this fanciness, what do you say to some dinner? I know Mummy left us some chicken fingers to make, why don't you go pick us out a movie, deal?" He held his painted hand out for a shake.
Her eyes shined at the prospect. "Deal."
Her feet couldn't reach the ottoman quite like his could. If she reached all the way to the cushion, she would wind up laying flat on the couch seat with her bottom suspended over the space between. She learned quickly that dad could be her ottoman instead. Her little feet crossed at the ankles and rested just above his knees. Their chicken fingers and sauce were left long forgotten on the tray. Biscuits, on the other hand, could never be forgotten; they were much too dear. John reached over with a cloth to wipe the milk mustache off her face, taking her empty cup away in the process.
The latest princess movie played on the screen before them. To him, they were largely the same movie, just with a different motif. To her, they were spellbinding. He watched as her eyes fixed on the screen, taking in every moment. Although, it wasn't long before her gaze became droopy. It wasn't as if she'd miss much of her movie anyhow, she'd already seen it enough times to have the dialogue memorized.
She tucked herself under his arm a long time ago and draped her arm across his middle as far as it could reach. Her favorite "tiara bear," always in tow, was nestled between them. It wasn't long before his snores joined her heavy breathing.
Anna turned on the front step and waved off Gwen as she opened the door. There were still quite a few lights on, which was unlike John. He typically switches off all but the essential ones at night. Expecting Emma to be in bed by now, it was nearly midnight, she figured she'd find him sprawled on the couch with a book or the night newscast.
Coming through the kitchen, she turned to see he was indeed on the couch. Fairies and butterflies danced across the screen to a whimsical loop of music on the DVD's menu screen. Smirking, she took off her heels quietly so she could sneak up on him easier. As she moved closer, she could see his head tilted off to the side uncomfortably. His arm was draped along the back of the couch. She began to make out the top of a blonde, curly head on the couch as well. A suspicious glint caught her eye, though, that gave her a pause. Squinting and leaning forward, she clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a laugh. When Emma said they were doing their nails, she just assumed that meant John was painting her nails, not the other way around. Oh, this is too good. Luckily, her phone was nearby. One more set of photos for the scrapbook, Anna laughed breathily to herself. She tiptoed around the furniture to get a better look.
John and Emma were "two peas in a pod," as they say. He leaned to the corner and she was slumped right over in the same direction; his mouth hung open, and hers was a carbon copy. She hated disturbing moments like this. Their children were growing like weeds and they tried to capture and savor the little moments where they could. The photos of the two of them lumped together on the couch in princess jammies and painted nails would make fond memories for them both. They would also serve as a reminder and soother of his doubts in later days, when Emma was growing and moody, that she does love her father.
"John," Anna whispered. Having no effect on him, she gently nudged his arm and tried again, "John, wake up."
Grunting, he lifted his head, squinting at her. "Oh," he cleared his throat, "you're home."
"Yes, it's getting late, princess."
"Wha-?"
She gestured to his fingers, grinning.
"Ha! Yes. I almost forgot."
"Well, they're very pretty," she teased. "Why don't you get her up to bed, I'll shut everything down here and meet you up there."
"So, how was your evening?" she asked as he closed their bedroom door behind him. She turned and gestured for him to undo her dress zipper for her.
"Oh, we had a lovely Valentine's Day."
Bemused, she turned. "But, it's…"
"October? I know." He sat on the bench at the foot of their bed, shrugging.
"So, what's this about?" She shook her head, laughing, while she wriggled and stepped out of her dress.
"She found one of my Valentine's cards to you in her newest pile of dress-up clothes and asked all kinds of things."
"Oh, it must've gotten tangled up in there…" she trailed off. "Wait, did she read that?" she looked concerned.
"She sounded out the front, yes." He smiled proudly.
"It wasn't one of our saucier cards was it?" She came to stand between his legs.
He laughed, grabbing her hand to pull her onto his lap. "No, love. Don't worry, I checked."
She released the breath she was holding and laughed with him. "That'd be the last thing we need. Poisoning our baby's mind with that smut." She winked.
"Smut?" He looked at her in mock offense. "My heartfelt poetry? You call it smut?"
"Metaphors for my feminine body parts and what you'd like to do to them?" she looked at him pointedly.
"Well, yes, about that…" He murmured, reaching up to scratch his neck.
She giggled, and leaned forward to nuzzle his neck. "Seeing as how it's Valentine's Day and all, I wouldn't mind hearing a few of those sentiments again." Her voice was husky.
Now that surprised him. "Oh, really?"
She blushed as she nipped him gently just below his ear, then leaned back nodding at him.
"Well...Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. Bates."
I hope you enjoyed the corny, fluffiness of this. I just felt the need. :)
