The first legitimate chapter, which is once again in the POV of Paris.
I don't even know how long I had been sitting atop the back of the couch in my grand living room, staring out the picture window that supplied a view of the driveway. This was the first time Warsaw was coming over for a playdate, and I was just itching to see her. We'd been apart for a whole week! I'd never really made friends with kids my age- Daddy didn't let me interact with citizens- so I was trying to leech this whole "friendship" thing for all it was worth. If we didn't hang out as much as possible, what if Warsaw didn't want to be my friend anymore? I really liked having a best friend. I couldn't let that slip away.
"Paris, love, when is Warsaw coming over?" asked Daddy, stepping out of the kitchen with one hand gently grasping the handle of a teacup, the other supporting a tiny plate beneath it.
"She said she'd be 'ere in cinq minutes," I grumbled, my eyes still glued to the driveway.
"In that case, I'll go make some cookies for you girls," Daddy offered with a slight smile. He used to try to give me these big bright smiles; however, ever since I was a baby I would burst into tears because happy smiles weren't really his thing and they'd come out looking sort of terrifying.
"Don't, s'il vous plaît. I want Warsaw to like coming 'ere." I didn't mean to be bitter, but I was getting way too anxious and it was beginning to chip away at my mood.
I heard Papa laugh from in the kitchen. "No need to worry, mon chérie. I'll make you snacks," he called. Daddy shot him a glare and plopped himself irritably in his armchair.
The sound of car tires rolling over gravel in the driveway caused me to snap my head in the direction of the window like a Golden Retriever who'd heard its name be called. I inhaled an airy gasp, falling backward onto the couch cushion in my excitement. Before Daddy could even ask if I was alright, I rolled onto my feet (as unladylike as the action was) and bolted to the front of the house as I heard a car door close outside. It seemed improbable that I'd be able to stop grinning anytime soon, even if my heart was nervously beating a mile a minute. I smoothed out the front of my dress at least 10 times, running both hands over my hair and sticking any stray strands back where they belonged. I twisted the brass doorknob literally the very second the doorbell chimed throughout the house.
"Bonjour, Warsaw! Bonjour, Mr. Lizuania!" I had met Warsaw's father- Lithuania- twice: when he picked her up from daycare that one day, and when I went over her house about a week prior to this. He's a handsome man, with his blue-green eyes and longish brown hair. He has to have a fantastic heart, being able to put up with his husband: a blonde, aloof country named Poland who talks like a valley girl and was in women's clothing both times that I saw him. There's only one bad thing I can say about Mr. Lithuania, and that's that he worries. A lot. When Papa was 8 minutes late to pick me up from my first playdate with Warsaw, Mr. Lithuania actually almost called the police.
"Paris, hi! I haven't seen you in like, a long time," Warsaw gasped, hopping inside and immediately embracing me in a tight hug. Giggling, I returned the embrace. I was so caught up in seeing my best friend again that I didn't even notice Daddy approach us.
"When will you be back to pick her up?" he addressed Mr. Lithuania.
"3:30, I told her… Thank you for having her," Mr. Lithuania responded, his eyes darting nervously around every corner of the house that was currently visible. Knowing him, he was probably looking for anything that could hurt Warsaw. Or any Russians.
Daddy briefly attempted to smile. "Oh, no, it's my pleasure. Paris really enjoys having her…"
Mr. Lithuania nodded almost uncertainly. He rested a hand on Warsaw's head. "Be good, okay, sveetheart? Please don't be too much trouble."
Warsaw, still hugging onto me, rolled her eyes and grinned widely up at her father. "Seriously, Tėtis! It's almost like you don't trust me."
A tired smile twitched onto Mr. Lithuania's face. "You know I trust you… I should be going now. Aš tave myliu."
After responding "I love you too" in Lithuanian, Warsaw gave her dad a quick hug before he hesitantly walked out the door. Warsaw waved at him nonchalantly until his car disappeared out of sight. "So, like, vhat are ve gonna do?" Warsaw questioned immediately, practically bouncing with giddiness. I was glad to see she felt the same way as I did.
"Well, Papa iz making some sort of snack for us, so we can eat zose, and zen I was zinking we could go up to mon room and play wiz dolls. After zat, we could watch some My Little Pony," I explained, hoping my plans weren't too dull. Luckily, Warsaw looked positively ecstatic about it and gave multiple nods to her head.
"Ah, little Miss Warsaw… So we meet again. 'Ow are you, sweet'eart?" Papa crooned, sliding out of the kitchen. I could almost feel my mouth begin to water as I took note of the cookies piled high on a silver platter balanced in Papa's left hand.
"Well don't flirt with the child, bloody frog," Daddy muttered, not even glancing at his husband as he stormed right past him into the kitchen.
"Vhat's his problem?" Warsaw pondered under her breath into my ear.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure… 'E's been acting like zat on and off lately," I told her in an equally hushed tone. Warsaw just shrugged and plopped down on the couch, licking her lips slightly as she observed the plate Papa set down on the coffee table. Daddy soon returned in the room, setting two glasses of milk on each side of the platter and kissing me on the head before retreating to his chair again. Talk about bipolar…
I opened my eyes from a blink to see Warsaw had already plucked a cookie off the top of the stack and flinched as her skin was burned slightly upon the contact. "Zey just came out of ze oven," I giggled, waggling a finger at my friend. She just furrowed her eyebrows together and picked the cookie back up, dunking the whole thing in her glass before taking a huge bite. She instantaneously groaned in pleasure.
"These are so totally good… Vhat flavor are these?" she asked, her mouth still full. I scrunched up my nose in disgust at her lack of manners. There she was, shamelessly chomping away at her snack while wearing sneakers, a football jersey, and what looked like boxers, as I- wearing a lavender dress made of pure silk- delicately blew off a cookie, dipped the tip in milk, and took a gentle bite. Could we be any more different?
"Lemon oatmeal. Zey are delectable, non?" Papa answered, carefully seating himself on the arm of Daddy's chair. That right there told me something was up: Daddy never let Papa sit there, unless he was in an exceptionally good mood, and he seemed to currently be experiencing a sour temper. Not to mention I figured my parents would want to do their own thing as opposed to hang out around me and Warsaw….
"Is somezing going on?" I inquired before Warsaw could keep ranting about some sort of cookie her "tatuś" makes her. Yes, it was rude to interrupt Warsaw, but it was really for the better since she probably would have ended up choking from chatting with her mouth full. My parents exchanged a glance before returning their gazes to me.
"I didn't want to tell you until you were alone, but your father," Daddy shot a quick glare at Papa, "insisted we tell you as soon as possible."
I froze, setting my half of a cookie back down on the table and averting my full attention to my parents. Warsaw, on the other hand, continued to munch away on cookie after cookie while glancing at Papa and Daddy with a raised eyebrow. It annoyed me at first, but after a few seconds it just provided me with the desire to giggle and hug Warsaw affectionately. I liked people that were so different from me.
"Paris, mon cher…" Papa wrapped one arm around Daddy's shoulders. "Ze reason why Daddy 'as been acting funny and getting sick lately is because…"
Even though Papa drew in a deep breath, Daddy finished for him: "I'm pregnant, love."
"Daddy iz 'aving anozzer baby," Papa added, in case I didn't know what "pregnant" meant.
Here's the thing about us countries (well, capitals in my case). I'm not going to say we're smarter than humans- I mean, just look at dunces like America. It's more like, we're wired to process and learn things better earlier on. For instance, a country or city with a physical age of 5 will have the same mental ability as an average 10 year old human. That being said, I fully understood what this meant: for the next few months, Daddy and Papa would be busy and probably not able to pay as much attention to me; Daddy would end up getting fatter; people would question how a man got pregnant, and my parents would have to explain how anything is possible for nations; I'd be a big sister; there would be another child in the house, who would be my and only my sibling…
I could just feel my eyes shimmering with joy. "Oh… Magnifique! Super! Papa, Daddy, congratulations!" I breathed, clasping my hands together in front of my chest. Soft smiles appeared on both of my parents' faces.
"I'm glad you're taking this so well," Daddy murmured, absently leaning his head into Papa's chest.
Warsaw chugged down more than half her milk, having almost choked on a cookie with Daddy's announcement. "Vhoa… Paris! You're like, totally gonna hawe a little broski or siostra! That's so totally… Vhoa!" She whipped her head around to look at my parents. "Good job!" She gave them a thumbs-up; they both chuckled and thanked her.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
The rest of the playdate went exactly as planned. We demolished the cookies, all except for 5 (Daddy got a kick out of the fact that I told Papa he can't have any, since Daddy was pregnant and deserved them way more). After putting our glasses in the kitchen sink, I led Warsaw up to my room so we could play with my vast collection of dolls. As inspired by what had just happened, I played with the two sister dolls and Warsaw played with a couple of blonde male dolls.
When we got tired of playing out how my life would be with a little sister (halfway through, we transitioned into what it would be like with a little brother), Papa helped me put in the My Little Pony DVD that Mr. America had bought me for my fifth birthday. We watched the whole season, pausing every once in a while to talk about anything that popped into our heads, until the doorbell rang at precisely 3:30 and Warsaw had to leave. We hugged, promising to see each other soon, and then Warsaw was gone, saying something about wanting a baby brother or sister to Mr. Lithuania.
"Daddy, are you really 'aving a baby…?" I murmured, unaware until now of how tired I was. Daddy set down the newspaper he was reading, smiling warmly at me.
"Of course. I wouldn't joke about something like that." Bobbing my head slightly, I crawled up onto my father's lap and cuddled against his chest. As Daddy slowly stroked my hair over and over, using the gentlest of touches, I felt as if I could fall asleep right then and there.
"When ze new bébé comes… Will you and Papa still love moi?"
"Why wouldn't we? …Well, as long as you try to love your little sibling."
My eyelids fluttered closed, and my fingers curled into the fabric of Daddy's casual dress shirt. "'Try'? Daddy, I love ze bébé already."
