Diva
Silence is golden...unless you have a toddler. Then it's suspicious.
Vanessa Mae Havoc was probably one of the most well-behaved children in her entire grade. She obviously got her father's lax temperament and her mother's sassy attitude. It wasn't shocking to find her quietly playing with her dolls in her room or romping through the garden and plucking out all of her mother's ripe tomatoes to eat them before she noticed. The latter often causing Becky to wonder if she was perhaps growing the plants wrong that they weren't producing any fruit.
The child, at the ripe age of three, had the most calming personality anyone could ever ask for. She was quiet, shy, and intelligent. But she rarely showed any of those traits unless necessary. Tragically, she also obtained her father's worrisome side, which was likely directly attributed to the fact that he spent the most time with her since he couldn't work. That side of her was soothing, and often sparked controversy in parenting styles.
Still, Jean never could help his incessant need to check on his daughter constantly. If she wasn't nearby, he'd often go in a search looking for her, if not to confirm she was doing exactly what he thought she was doing. Vanessa was so much like him, that he actually knew where she was before even looking for her. She only had five places she would hide; her closet, under her bed, her tree house, the box in the garage, and the garden. It narrowed down the search significantly, and didn't require him calling in an all-team search party when she went missing.
It was nearing lunchtime and he noticed that Vanessa wasn't in one of her usual locations. This elicited a spark of fear in him, one he hadn't felt since she was younger and thought playing in traffic was a good idea. Where had she gotten off to? He wandered down the halls, hobbling along on his cane, searching for any signs of the toddler. Sadly, her quiet nature often played into his worst fears. Most kids you could pinpoint by the giggling, but Nessa was so quiet, he had to rely on his old senses to find her. "Vanessa?"
There was a very faint giggling coming from the bedroom, prompting him to hobble down that way. Stopping outside the door to their bedroom, he poked the door open and stared at the mess that Vanessa had made. "What on earth-?"
The little girl turned around and held up her arms with pride. There was a dark shade of red lipstick smeared across the vanity and on her lips, dark purple eye shadow on her eyes, and blue nail polish all over her hands. He let out a relieved sigh that she wasn't doing anything truly dangerous, but part of him was concerned that Becky would find this mess and surely kill him later. She'd given up most of her makeup after Vanessa was born, opting instead to keep only a few of her favored colors and types for date nights with him. Even with how messy his daughter looked, he couldn't shake the feeling that she looked almost identical to her mother. "Adda!"
"Mama's gonna kill me." He murmured, falling onto the bench seat beside her, holding a hand up to smudge away some of the lipstick on her cheek. "You did a great job making a mess."
"I do good." She laughed and took out the lipstick, which was pushed all the way to the max, and tried in vain to smudge it onto his lips. "Adda, come."
"I'd rather not, Vanessa." He sighed softly and grabbed a tissue, wiping the mess off of the vanity mirror. "You look very pretty, but this is all mama's stuff. What did mama tell you about staying out of her dressers?"
The little girl looked down, suddenly realizing he was lecturing her. Not angry, per se, but still upset. "I sorry."
"I know you are." After tackling the task of removing the smudged lipstick off of the mirror, he took a wet cloth and tackled her face. "You know, before you were born, I learned how to do most of this for your mother. She couldn't hold her hand steady some days, so I would do this for her. She insisted on looking pretty, even though she was still the prettiest person in the room. And I painted her nails a lot, too, since she couldn't see her toes anymore." He chuckled and finished wiping the makeup off of her cheeks and hands. "How about I do it for you?"
"Ehh!" Her eyes lit up with confusion, hearing his proposition. She handed over the handful of objects and smiled brightly. "Kay!"
Pulling the lipstick out, he memorized the name and number so he could replace it later, since most of it had been lost on the vanity. "No lipstick and no eyeshadow." Digging through the makeup bag, he procured a bottle of natural looking lip gloss and a shade of pink nail polish for her. "How about that?"
Taking the bottle of nail polish into her hands, she held it up triumphantly with a smile. "Ink!"
"Yep." Gently taking it from her hands, he smiled and gathered the rest of Becky's makeup into the bag, zipping it up, and putting it back in the drawer. The lipstick, which was her favorite shade to wear and his favorite shade to find on his collar, would have to be replaced later. She'd probably yell at him, but he didn't care. "Lay your hands flat, kiddo."
Vanessa did as she was told and flattened her hands on the vanity. He'd never been an expert at this, and Becky always had to fix his mistakes, but he laid a towel down so he didn't make a huge mess. He used another towel to remove the old blue polish, laughing at the way she squirmed. "Tickles."
"A little bit, yeah. Mama used to paint my nails. I know it's silly, but she taught me how to do all these pretty colors and how to combine them to get purple and green, and I think part of me wanted to be able to do this for you." He smiled a lopsided grin and took one of her hands onto his knee, where he started to carefully brush the polish over her nails. "Pink is a lovely color for you."
That was where Becky found them an hour later when she came home from work. Vanessa was sleeping in the large master bed, her nails painted almost perfectly in a bright shade of pink, lipgloss smeared all over the sheets and pillows. Her husband was hunched over the vanity with the tube of lipstick, staring at it like it was the devil. "Don't tell me you plan on wearing that…"
Startled, he dropped it onto the vanity and turned to face his wife. "No. I was planning on replacing it, though."
"I don't think that's your shade anyway," Becky smiled, her hand resting on her hip. "I take it Vanessa kept you on your feet today?" Staring at the gloss all over the pillow, she tried to smile. "That's also not her shade."
"I never expected her to be into makeup so early. I hoped she would wait a while. At least I didn't find her in here in your dresses and shoes." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, she looks like a tinier version of you. That's startling."
"Then why in God's name did you pick that color for her? You know what shades look good on me." She sat next to him on the bench and started the unholy task of wiping the nail polish off his fingers with acetone. Clearly he'd let Vanessa try her hand at it, or else it wouldn't be there. "You know, even with neon green fingernails, you still look handsome."
He shook his head and smiled. "Vanessa found your makeup bag. Aren't you upset?"
"Not really, I figured she would eventually. At least you had enough sense to show her how to wear it right. I assume the vanity didn't have such a graceful experience with it, though." She took her tube of lipstick and stared at the flatness of it with a defeated sigh. "They don't make this shade anymore."
"I'm sorry." He lowered his head in defeat. "I should have watched her better."
Becky shook her head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "You did fine. I'll just have to let her pick out the next color I wear all the time. You didn't do too badly. No broken bones this time, no frantic calls about her playing in traffic...all in all, this was a pretty good day for you."
He beamed now, staring at his wife with bright blue eyes. "Does that mean I get a kiss?"
"Hush, you get a kiss anyway," She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, only barely noticing the waxy feeling of her own lip gloss on his lips and the familiar taste of cherries. "Jean..."
