More Than Words (a Pesy story)

Always been there for me, now I'll do the same

We make it back home without encountering anyone else, but the little Babushka woman has planted a seed in my mind that I can't weed out. Or perhaps she's just nurtured a seed that's been there a while that I've refused to notice.

Despite my initial complaints about her buying half the shop, I pick at nearly every one of the desserts Perrie bought. She just smirks, a knowing smile on her face, and I make my so what? face at her and she laughs. Parker joins in on the giggling, just happy to be around happiness, I think. I try my best, and I know she knows she's loved, but she doesn't have much positive energy in her life that's not mine. And admittedly, my happiness is sometimes overshadowed by the stress of taking care of a brand new baby by myself and the unresolved feelings caused by Harry's less than elegant exit.

     The baby starts to fuss before I can even realize I'm bringing down the mood, so I slap a smile on my face that is small, but not disingenuous.

     "You're a perceptive little bugger, aren't you?" Perrie says, affecting that same strange voice from earlier that is somewhere between her baby voice and her regular talking voice.

     "She is," I offer. "She's quite smart. The doctor says she's advanced for her age."

     "Advanced enough for a bit of french silk pie?" Perrie asks in baby voice, already sneaking a finger coated in some sort of chocolate whip to the baby's mouth.

     "Perrie!" I panic, but it's too late. Parker has already grabbed Perrie's finger and is sucking on it eagerly, smacking her lips. She looks up at Perrie with wide eyes.

     Perrie laughs at her response before trying her best to look contrite. "I'm sorry, Jes, I wasn't trying to..." she trails off lamely.

     "Perrie, there's certain stuff she can't have," I whine.

     "Oh, what's the harm, Jesy? It's just a bit of sweet," she whines right back. "Plus, Parker loved it!"

     The baby gurgles excitedly. I think she's starting to recognize her name, even though the way Perrie says it is a bit different to the way I do.

     I want to be mad, want to tell Perrie that we really have to be more careful about what she eats, but why should Perrie have to be careful? She's not Parker's parent, I am.

     "Jes, if I crossed a line, I'm really sorr-"

     "Nah, it's fine," I say, cutting her off. "I'm just very... protective, I guess."

     "And I love that! I just, I wanted to see her cute little face when she tasted it. I tasted her formula this morning and it's like really, really gross. I'm convinced she only drinks it cause she doesn't know any better."

     "Why did you taste the baby's formula?" I ask her with a laugh.

     "I was just curious," she says, trying her best to sound inconspicuous.

     This prompts another round of giggles on my part, followed shortly by the happy gurgles of Parker and the laughter of Perrie.

     We pick at the desserts a bit more and then decide to save the rest for after dinner, when we'll have another go at the feast of Indian food we ordered this afternoon.

     Parker starts to fuss, so I take her to the nursery to change her nappy, and then rock her to sleep.

     I walk into my room, intending to grab my favorite pillow so that I might get a couch nap in, and find Perrie already laying on the bed.

     "You alright?" I ask, pulling her attention from her phone to me.

     "I was just hoping we could talk?" she says shyly.