Hues Of Love

14

ROSALIE SAT on the couch, as she watched her five year old daughter prance around the living room in her pajamas. As she sipped on her glass of passion fruit juice, she wished that it was wine instead. She'd become fond of the occasional glass. But Beth had often scolded her for drinking around Abbi, even though she'd argued that it was just grape juice. Of course, that was only for Abbi to believe. Beth could never be fooled, "mommy, gimme cuddles," Abbi jumped onto Rosalie's lap, almost knocking the glass out of her hand. Rosalie smiled at her daughter, and placed the glass onto the centre table.

"I'm not Miss Cuddles for nothing," leaning against her mother's chest, Abbi wrapped her arms around Rosalie's neck and yawned, "time for bed?" Rosalie kissed her daughter's forehead, and stood from the chair with Abbi in her arms.

"I want mama to read bedtimes," Abbi said. They looked at a sleeping Beth, comfortably curled up in a ball, on the couch. Rosalie's heart warmed, as she thought about how lucky she was. Real love is supposed to be like that—simple and warm, not painful or cause insanity.

"Let her sleep, sweetie. I'll read you a bedtime story, okay?"

Abbi leaned her head back and pouted, "but mama reads them better."

Rosalie sighed and placed another kiss on Abbi's forehead, "you really want me to wake her up? Then she'll be sad and grumpy because we didn't let her nap. And she'll be too tired tomorrow to take you to school."

"No, mommy," Abbi sheepishly smiled, "let her have nap time. You'll read me little, red riding hood?" Abbi's eyes flickered, as she waited for an answer. And, of course, a good mother could never say no, even when it was dreadful to read the same story almost every night, sometimes more than once at a time. Luckily, Abbi mostly preferred Beth to tuck her in, as long as she'd made it home before bedtime.

"Anything for you, baby girl."

Abbi smiled and leaned her head against Rosalie's shoulder, as she yawned. Rosalie took one last glance at Beth, and headed up the stairs, "mommy, when are we gonna visit Henry? I miss him," Abbi rubbed her eyes with her little fists, as Rosalie tucked her in, "is he too busy to miss me?"

Rosalie grabbed Abbi's teddybear from the nightstand, and held it against her chest. They hadn't travelled to The States in a few months, especially since Abbi had recently started preschool, "I miss him too. But he's busy with work. Maybe we'll go see him for Christmas?" Abbi nodded excitedly, "I'll talk to mama, okay?"

"We'll visit aunty Zoe too?" Abbi grabbed her teddy bear from her mother, and placed a kiss on its forehead.

"We'll see. Now, do I really have to be the wolfie tonight?" Rosalie asked.

Abbi giggled, "woof, woof, mommy. You have to say it."

"I feel like I'm in middle school all over again when I have to reenact the entire story for you," how does Beth do this without sulking? Rosalie let out a breath, and picked up the book from beside the bed.

"Don't forget that you have to be the grandma too," Abbi reminded.

"How could I ever? Does mommy have to wear the wolfie's ears?" Rosalie grinned, as she slid the hat onto her head, that had fuzzy wolf ears attached to it.

"Where's my wand, mommy?"

Rosalie pursed her lips, as she grabbed the wand from the drawer. She knew that the story didn't have any wands or magic, but Abbi liked to add her own little twists to her bedtime stories, "okay, so once upon a time—"

"Mommy, don't you know the story by now? Mama reads from memory."

Rosalie huffed out a breath, and pursed her lips. She could never meet the expectations of her daughter, mainly because Beth was so great at being a mother, "my memory isn't that good, sweetie," Rosalie said.