47. Advancement
MacCready POV
Little Wonders by Rob Thomas
It's been a few weeks since I got stabbed. Most everyday tasks were difficult to accomplish, but with the help of my wife, friend, and sons, I was able to focus on getting better. And although I still haven't made a full recovery, I am doing much better. Danse still insists on keeping Vitya for now. She has him under her trance—just like the rest of us. That's for certain.
Duncan's birthday is tomorrow, and Beth has been emotional over it.
"I can't believe he's turning seven," she tells me as we go through our nightly routine of getting ready for bed.
"You can't believe it? You've known him for less than two years of his life. Imagine how I feel." Climbing under the comforter, I say, "My little boy's not so little anymore."
She crawls in next to me. "I know." Resting her head on my arm, she asks, "What flavour cake do you think he'll want tomorrow? I can try to make my best impersonation of strawberry with mutfruit if he wants it. Keyword: try." She chuckles.
Not even able to focus on what she said, I chuckle immaturely. "Mutfruit."
"Yes, mutfruit. Have you forgotten you can cook with it, too?" She laughs. "You're tweaked."
"And you still married me, so…" I grin at her as she shrugs.
"Sometimes I wonder why." At my face of feigned offense, she responds, "Kidding," and plants a kiss on my bicep before scooting under the covers more.
"Are you serious?" Beth asks Duncan.
"Yeah," he replies. "Dad told me about the time you guys went into the Super-Duper Mart, and how the cookie aisle was like, the only one to get crushed. I've always wanted to know what they tasted like."
"You sure?" she asks again. "Chocolate's kind of a thing of the past, and I don't know what other kind to make."
"You can figure something out," I call to her from the living room. She looks at me from behind the kitchen island.
"We have any peanut butter?" She gasps. "Oh, I've got it. Duncan—can you help me carry something in from the garden?" He nods, and they both walk out the back door—leaving me curious. Peanut butter doesn't grow on a vine. Right?
A few minutes later, both Beth and Duncan come back carrying some gourds. As Duncan comes into the living room, I notice Beth washing the outside of them before cutting them into small chunks, and placing them in a pot with some water on the stove. What on earth…
Wondering into the kitchen myself, I stand behind her—watching her every motion—as she pools together some ingredients and puts them on the island. A couple of the ingredients I recognize as being sugar and butter made from brahmin milk.
"Whatcha makin'?" I ask.
"Duncan wants cookies. Cookies he shall get," she replies as she retrieves a couple bowls and mixing utensils.
"And the gourds are for…?"
She looks at me pointedly. "Uh, the cookies?" She looks towards the pot. "Check on that for me—see if the water's boiling?"
About half an hour later, the cookies are in the oven, and the house is starting to smell marvelous. "How come you've never made these?" I ask Beth.
"Because it never crossed my mind to make pumpkin cookies before. I just randomly remembered them when he said he wanted cookies." She shrugs.
At this time, Duncan and Shaun walk into the kitchen, wondering if the food making such a wonderful aroma is done or not. "Not yet," I chuckle. "Trust me. If they were done, my mouth would not be empty right now."
Beth laughs. "They're almost done. Patience, boys." She looks at me. "You, too."
I fake anger. "I'm not a boy. I'm a man!"
"You keep telling yourself that, dear." She pats my check as I crack a grin—not able to stay mad at her, nonetheless pretend I am. Moving to the oven, she checks on the cookies and announces they are nearly done.
"I can't wait!" Duncan exclaims, sort of jumping in place. "They smell amazing!"
"Yup," Shaun agrees.
"I'll go get Danse," I tell Beth. "I'm sure he wants to be here. To celebrate with us, or to have cookies, though?" I look at Duncan.
He smiles at me. "Probably for the cookies. I wouldn't blame him!"
I make the short walk to Danse's house, and when I get there, I don't even knock. Why bother when the door is wide open, allowing the day's nice air to flow in and out?
I see the ex-Paladin, who seems to be hiding behind the couch. He pops up suddenly, looking over the back of it and down onto the cushions. This action is followed by what can only be Victoria's giggles. He backs down onto the floor again and repeats this action a few more times—always trailed by Vitya's laughter.
After a few minutes of watching them play, I clear my throat, grabbing Danse's attention. "Oh, hey." He holds his arms out to pick up Victoria, and she easily reaches right back to him. "Didn't see you standing there."
"I didn't think you did," I tell him, chuckling as I step away from the frame of the door I've been leaning against for the past couple minutes. "Anyway, I'm just letting you know about tonight. Duncan's having Beth make him some cookies for his birthday, and you're welcome to come over and have some with us. And I'll tell you right now: they smell amazing."
He grins. "Love to. What time?"
"Honestly, they're about to come out of the oven—if they haven't already. Any time would be good."
"Okay. Guess I'll come over now, then." We both leave his house as he closes his door and we make our way to the small and intimate birthday party of sorts.
As we're walking, Vitya randomly decides she doesn't want to be held by Danse anymore. She starts whining quietly and looks over at me—a rather subtle way to let me know she wants me now. But Danse and I know her too well and chuckle at her expression. Handing her to me, Danse says, "She has her ways of letting us know stuff, huh?"
Once she's in my arms, she lays her head on my shoulder, all content now. "She sure does." I go into thought for a moment, until he gets my attention by asking what's wrong. "She hasn't said much the past two or three months. She used to babble all the time. But she doesn't anymore."
"Maybe she's grown out of it?" He takes a seat in the living room, now that we're in the house.
"I don't know if babies can…" I wonder into the kitchen, still lost in my thoughts on the subject.
I go and sit on a barstool at the counter, looking down to Victoria. She looks back up at me, her eyes wide, a small grin on her face.
"Robert!" I look up to see Beth on the other side of the counter. "So lost in thought that you didn't hear me?" I shake my head, making her laugh. "Duncan's wanting us all to eat together in the living room. C'mon." She grabs my free hand and pulls me into the living room, where Shaun, Danse, and Duncan all sit. There's a plate of cookies—along with a few glasses of milk—on the sideboard where the radio sits, next to the eclectic collection of armchairs we own.
We all sing Happy Birthday to Duncan, give him all the birthday wishes, Danse marvels over how old he's getting—making the boy laugh, exclaiming he's not that old—and soon night falls. Danse makes his way back to his house, leaving Vitya here with us for the first time in a few nights. Duncan and Shaun go to their rooms—to read, play, or go to bed, I'm not sure. Victoria refuses to be placed in her crib yet, wanting to stay in my arms for some reason, and falls asleep within thirty seconds.
With her asleep, I'm able to pass her to Beth just long enough to change into my night clothes and climb into bed. But before she wakes—and throws a fit—I take her back, allowing Beth to change herself.
"You know, I've been thinking," I start.
"I know you have," Beth replies. "I could see it on your face all night. What's up?"
"At Vitya's age, Duncan was talking up a storm. I couldn't understand him, of course. But he babbled all the time." I look down to the topic I speak of. "She hasn't said much since we were in DC, or even before. …Do you think something's wrong with her?" Just the thought makes me upset. I just want my daughter to be normal, happy. Is that too much to ask for?
"I don't think so," Beth says, settling under the duvet. "Have you seen the look in her eyes? She's already smart—at eight months."
"Smart people can be mute," I say quietly, looking at Victoria's small hand resting on my chest. "I don't know what we'd do if she were mute. I wanna hear her talk—say 'Daddy.' Is it so wrong to want that?"
"No. It's not." Beth puts her hand on my arm. "Give her time, Robert. She may start tomorrow, she may start next year. Every baby is different. She'll let us know when she's ready to talk, to make advancements." She pulls my hand to her mouth and gives me a kiss. "Try to sleep. Worrying doesn't do anything."
"Then why were you busy worrying these past few weeks? I'm alive—nothing to fret over."
"You could have died. I had reason to worry."
I look to Beth from Victoria. "And this is her life I'm worrying over."
"Touché. It's just not her time, I guess." She sighs. "I suppose I should practice what I preach, huh?" I nod. "We'll find out soon enough," she says. "Now sleep, hon."
I settle further into the mattress and hope for sleep to find me—Vitya laying on my torso as she often likes to do—but unconsciousness doesn't come for a good while, due to my wondering thoughts, my qualms about my baby girl. "Daddy loves you," I whisper, softly rubbing her back.
When I wake, I feel no weight on me. I snap my eyes open and see Victoria missing. Looking around frantically to see if she'd rolled off somewhere, I notice Beth is gone, too. Probably took Vitya with her.
Bringing myself out of bed, I get dressed and head down the stairs. Walking into the living room, I see Beth sitting on the couch, facing away from me—she probably doesn't even know I woke up yet. I hear her talking, and come to realize she's reading Vitya a story.
When I step closer—quietly, as to not disturb them—I see Vitya sitting on the couch in front of Beth as she reads then shows the pictures of Corduroy, a book Danse found and gifted to her. As I see the picture on the current page, Beth turns it and shows Victoria, who smiles and points at the teddy bear in the book.
"That's right," Beth says. "It's a teddy bear—your favourite. Say 'teddy?' Can you say 'teddy?'"
At this point, Vitya sees me standing behind her mother and points at me, smiling like she was at the book just mere seconds ago. Beth turns and grabs my hand. "You wanna finish this while I go start breakfast?"
"Sure." I take the book and replace her seat on the couch. And it's a shame Beth had already went into the kitchen, because Victoria does something I've never seen her do before.
Instead of reaching her arms up at me, wanting me to grab and hold her—she actually moves herself, crawling the single foot between us, and makes her way onto my lap herself. And she does it so well, you'd think she's done it before, that she's a pro. Once in place—and I know I'm showing my shock as much as I'm feeling it—she leans her head against me, looking up at my face, and smiles.
Putting the book in front of her, she refocuses her attention onto the pictures. I take this as hint, trying my best to move on past her developmental advance, and start to read the page where Beth left off.
"'All at once he saw something small and round. "Why, here's my button!" he cried. And he tried to pick it up. But, like all the other buttons on the mattress, it was tied down tight.'" Vitya again points to the bear—Corduroy. "Teddy bear," I tell her. "I heard Mommy trying to help you say it. Will you say it for me? 'Teddy?'"
She points to Corduroy again, signaling she knows the word and the bear are the same. I nod. "Teddy bear." I pick up the bear Danse gave her along with the book. Handing it to her, she hugs it up to her chest, showing her love for the toy. But then, she drops it and looks up at me expectantly. "'Teddy?'" I try again.
She scoots away from me a bit, twisting herself a little to be able to see me better. She then points at me, "Daddy."
I gawk.
She just said Daddy! That's me!
Beth runs in, having heard an unfamiliar voice—and assuming it's Victoria—she gawks at her, too. "Did she just…?" I nod, still bewildered and unable to talk.
I haven't taken my eyes away from Vitya's face since she uttered her first word. She's looking up at me, searching my face to see if I approve or not. She doesn't seem happy when she sees a few tears falling from the corner of my eye, but only because she doesn't understand that they're tears of joy—she thinks something's actually wrong. Showing her it's quite the opposite, I hug her to me, kissing the top of her head. "That's right. Daddy… Daddy loves you, Vitya."
Keep moving forward.
A/N: Meet the Robinsons, anyone?