#father daughter bonding time is never boring in the Gardner household
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bookshelf-full-of-bruises ยท 1 year ago
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Tea Party
I decided that I wanted to christen my new writing blog with something warm and light. What better subject than a young Rosalind coming into her powers while playing make believe? If you found this place because you follow my main blog, you likely are already familiar with she and her father Robbie. If not, youโ€™re in for a treat! Enjoy some pure tooth-rotting fluff as morning breaks over my new domain ๐Ÿ’›
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โ€œHow wonderful of you to join us, Robert. Please take a seat. We were just about to begin.โ€
Robert Gardner beams from ear to ear as he is granted entry, stepping through the doorway without missing a beat. He wears a white dress shirt beneath a spring green vest- the latter patterned with playfully sprawling vines- and khaki slacks. A warm brown tailcoat completes the ensemble, and his shoes have been freshly shined. His hair hangs in ornate braids that have been fussed over for the better part of an hour. He is ready.
โ€œThank you, your Majesty. You are too kind. Please excuse my tardiness- Iโ€™m afraid the royal stables are still in a bit of a tizzy from the arrival of Pepermint. Iโ€™ve spent all morning attempting to sort out her care schedule. She is with the smith now, and is being fitted for her winter shoes,โ€ he explains, bowing gracefully towards the table set for tea.
Pepermint is the most recent in Rosalindโ€™s collection of plastic ponies, gifted to her a few days ago on her sixth birthday. Oh, how her eyes had sparkled when the tissue paper was pulled away. Like charoite beneath the setting sun. Sheโ€™s not yet old enough to wear the color contacts to help draw less attention to herself, and he canโ€™t help but be so grateful for that every time she smiles. She has no reason to believe she needs to hide herself, yet. No reason to be afraid.
Against all reason, he hopes that will never change.
From her seat at the table, his little girl giggles, and it is a sound that could melt the thickest ice. She waves him over, hands clad in the white gloves from her dress-up trunk. Theyโ€™re ruddy from frequent use, and her tiara is a bit crooked, but in all his many years, Robbie cannot remember ever seeing a more beautiful princess.
โ€œThatโ€™s alright, daddy. Come sit! We have cookies! And I need my royal โ€˜visor.โ€
The table she invites him to is set for four, which gives him a momentโ€™s pause as he moves to take his seat. Sir Milton is present, as always, and so is Dawa. But the fifth place setting that usually appears beside her beloved rabbitโ€™s is surprisingly absent. โ€œIs Puffball not going to be joining us today?โ€
His daughter sighs so dramatically that he has to force himself not to break character and giggle. Sheโ€™s scolded him for that before- itโ€™s not realistic if you donโ€™t pretend right, daddy- and so heโ€™s trying to be better about it. โ€œThatโ€™s what I needed to talk to you about,โ€ she says, as though itโ€™s obvious.
He nods sagely as he reaches his seat, trying to keep up. โ€œAh, I see. Well, then, letโ€™s get started, shall we? Milton, my good sir, itโ€™s always good to see you. And Madame Dawa, you are looking quite lovely today. Have you done something different with your hair?โ€ Bowing to each guest in their turn, he pulls his chair out to take his place. He takes great care in ensuring the coat of his tail falls correctly as he stoops to sit, ever the picture of poise. Itโ€™s only befitting of the Princessโ€™s royal advisor, after all.
Said sovereign grins impishly as she reaches to pick up her little paper fan. It takes her a second to get it opened, and she has to manually spread it the rest of the way when her initial wrist flick proves insufficient, but she gets it figured out all the same. Raising it to cover her nose and mouth, she pretends to fan herself lightly.
It is then that the magic begins in earnest.
Milton, the Furby frog, is the first to respond. The click-clack of his beak and eyes have always unnerved Robbie a little, but heโ€™s careful not to show it. The little guy one of his Rosebudโ€™s favorites, and has to be treated as such. No matter how creepy he may or may not be. โ€œ๐•‹๐•™๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•œ ๐•ช๐• ๐•ฆ. โ„๐• ๐•“๐•–๐•ฃ๐•ฅ. ๐•€๐•ฅ ๐•š๐•ค ๐•˜๐• ๐• ๐••. ๐•‹๐•  ๐•ค๐•–๐•– ๐•ช๐• ๐•ฆ. ๐•‹๐• ๐• .โ€
Sheโ€™s getting better at projecting the tone she wants; the croaky rasp of Miltonโ€™s voice is almost strong enough he canโ€™t hear his daughterโ€™s sneaky whispers beneath it. Pride flares brightly in his chest. Sheโ€™s amazing. His daughter is absolutely amazing.
โ€œ๐’ด๐‘œ๐“Šโ€™๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐“Š๐“‰๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡, ๐’น๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐’ป๐“‡๐’พ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’น,โ€ Dawa speaks up, then. Her button eyes almost seem to glimmer in the glow of the tea lights. โ€œ๐ป๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘€๐’ถ๐’ฟ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“‰๐“Ž ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐’ถ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“Œ ๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Œ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐ป๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ท๐’พ๐“‡๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’น๐’ถ๐“Ž! ๐’ฒ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐’น๐‘œ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“€?โ€ The head of the plush bunny tips a bit to the side, allowing her ears to fall in a way that shows off the floral barrette. The motion is still a bit rigid- the accent, a bit wonky- but for her age, itโ€™s incredible.
โ€œI think itโ€™s absolutely lovely. The Princess was kind, to share her gifts with you.โ€ The creasing of his little girlโ€™s eyes speaks to the smile that blossoms behind the worn paper fan. She wiggles in her chair a little, too happy to sit still as her father reaches to pick up her pretty tea pot and begins to pour.
โ€œ๐’ฎ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ! ๐’ฎ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“๐’พ๐“€๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘”๐’พ๐’ป๐“‰๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“Š๐“ˆ. ๐ผ๐“‰ ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“…๐“…๐“Ž.โ€ As Dawa finishes, though, Rosalind clears her throat to draw attention back to herself. She does not set the fan down, keeping it close in hand, but she does stop hiding behind it for the moment.
โ€œIโ€™m sorry to disturb you, but there is business to discuss.โ€ She doesnโ€™t even wait for him to put the tea pot down before sheโ€™s going for the sugar cubes: one in Miltonโ€™s cup, two in her own, one in his, and one in Dawaโ€™s. Then a splash of milk in all four, just like normal.
โ€œYes, of course. You wanted to discuss Puffballโ€™s absence, right?โ€ He retrieves his spoon, then, and begins stirring the contents of his teacup. The tea is not hot enough to risk burning anyone, but it is warm enough that the sugar dissolves in fairly short order.
โ€œI did,โ€ she answers after a moment, voice taking on an almost solemn tint. It makes Robbie focus in a little more, caught off guard by the shift in tone. Had something happened to the Popple in the lastโ€ฆ.26 hours since heโ€™d seen it last?
As if hearing her fatherโ€™s internal questions, Rosalind continues with her explanation. โ€œShe got hurt during our walk this morning. The Healer sent her to the hot springs to get better, but she hasnโ€™t come home yet. I fear for her, Robert. What if she canโ€™t make it home on her own?โ€
Ohhhhh. So thatโ€™s why Jessamine had been running the washer this morning. He had been curious, knowing that heโ€™d finished the last of the laundry last night, butโ€ฆnot enough so to get up and check it out. While his girls have always been early risers, he isโ€ฆdecidedly not. And thatโ€™s before taking into effect how little sleep he was able to get last night.
Thatโ€™s why Jess had decided to take Rose to the park in the first place: to let him get a little more rest before todayโ€™s big to-do. He feels a sliver of guilt about not being there, but he also knows both would call him silly for it. They need their bonding time just as much as the next mother and daughter anyway, and everyone needs lazy mornings. Still, he always feels a sliver of regrets for the moments he misses in passing. One day, he wonโ€™t have a tea party to attend when he wakes up.
โ€œAhh, I see. That is troublesome.โ€ Deciding against waiting any longer, he takes a sip from his cup. The warmth washes over him like a sunrise, and he closes his eyes to let the feeling of this second in time sink in. No matter what the future brings, they are together, here and now. And when he opens his eyes to find hers looking back at him, that is worth more than anything heโ€™s ever owned.
โ€œPerhaps when weโ€™re finished here, I can go and escort her home myself?โ€ Heโ€™s pretty sure he heard the dryer going not long ago, so with any luck, she should be clean and ready to go. If not, theyโ€™ll figure out where to take the story from there. For now, however, the suggestion seems satisfactory.
โ€œI think thatโ€™s a good idea,โ€ Rosalind nods sagely. โ€œGo carefully, but bring her home safe.โ€
โ€œThen itโ€™s decided. Iโ€™ll go as soon as weโ€™ve finished up, your Majesty. Now you really should try your tea; itโ€™s magnificent.โ€ He takes another sip in demonstration, then, and casts her a goofy grin when he returns the cup to its saucer. โ€œJust like you.โ€
She giggles again, and it sets his world alight. โ€œThank you, daddy.โ€ The play momentarily suspended, his heart melts. What could he ever have done to deserve something as precious as this moment? This life?
He may never know. But the one thing he does know is that he will protect it with every last fiber of his being.
โ€œYouโ€™re welcome, my Rosebud.โ€
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