41 replies to this topic

[spladoum]

I know this isn't the point of the update, but I absolutely :wub: the kitchen floor divider. :rofl:
And now I must go to bed because I'm being scolded for being up this late! But it was worth it! Poor Giselle!

[suzdez999]

You have to love it though when the game throws you a curve like that! Really enjoying this.

Sue :)

[Kesal]

I always enjoyed your Sims 2 story, and this one is off to a great start!

[Coo]

Odin set a plate of warm, fresh waffles down on the kitchen table. Giselle immediately attacked, stacking several waffles on her plate so fast that Odin had to dodge her fork and knife. Odin had promised Giselle a week ago that he would make her waffles whenever she wanted, and she had eaten waffles every morning since, yet somehow her cravings did not wane. Odin blamed the baby. Giselle blamed Odin's cooking.

"These look great, hon!" she exclaimed, stabbing at a waffle before Odin had a chance to put the syrup on the table. "Even better than yesterday's!"

Odin joined Giselle and put several waffles onto his plate. "Our kid is going to have a sugar addiction if you keep eating like that," he noted as he added a small puddle of maple syrup to his waffles.

"Yeah, yeah," Giselle said, drowning her own waffles in syrup and commencing to inhale what was left on her plate. "I'm meeting Don at the library in a couple of hours, and I'll talk to him about renovations then. What are you doing today?"

"I'm going to see Trisha," he said, staring down first at his plate, and then at the wood grain pattern in the tabletop.

The pair awkwardly chewed in silence, avoiding the inevitable conversation for a few moments longer.

"So are you going to do it today?" Giselle finally asked, helping herself to a second round of waffles. She glanced over at Odin, who was still staring fixedly at the table, his fork hovering above his plate.

Odin sighed. "I don't have much of a choice. She'll have noticed by now that I haven't returned her calls in a week, and if she's gone b by my house, she's also probably noticed that there isn't anything there anymore. It's time for me to tell her."

"Poor girl," Giselle said complacently.

Odin smiled slyly and grabbed Giselle's hand, kissing her fingertips. "You don't have to pretend to be upset for her," he said.

"That's good," Giselle replied as she speared another bite of waffle. "Because I'm not actually upset one bit."

"I don't know why you would be. I was the who dated her and then got another woman pregnant."

Giselle stopped mid-chew and glared at Odin. "Gee, I'm glad I mean so much to you. Maybe you belong with prissy Miss Trish after all."

"You know what I meant," Odin said dully. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm sorry."

Odin had been seeing Trisha Ryder for a couple of months, but after last week's events, he obviously couldn't be with her anymore. That wasn't his style. Truth be told, he was a little afraid of Trisha; she had a penchant for melodrama, and could be downright evil when provoked. Odin had started dating Trisha because seeing Giselle with another man made him feel extraordinarily lonely, and Trisha happened to be in the right place at the right time. Now, though, it was only right that he end things with her. He just hoped they could end on civil terms.

Giselle was still staring at him angrily. Odin leaned over and peppered her face with kisses. She giggled and tried to swat at him, but he wouldn't stop. "You know I love you," he said, placing a kiss between each word, "and you're the only one for me."

"Ewwwww! You're getting syrup all over my face!" Giselle squealed, pushing away from the table and running out of the kitchen.

Odin knew that he had put her back in a good mood, and he hopped up to chase after her. "But I'm not finished yet!"

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Don was sifting through a bookshelf in the library, slowly running his index finger along the spine of each volume. "So Odin's all moved in now?"

"Yeah, actually," Giselle said. "I told him how distressing that aspect of my relationship with Hal was, and Odin had his toothbrush in my bathroom an hour after he agreed to move in. It took us a while to find space for the rest of his stuff, of course, but his old house is officially empty."

"That's pretty impressive."

Giselle nodded in agreement. "I can hardly believe it myself. Everything is happening so fast."

Don raised his eyebrows and looked at his friend. "It doesn't have to happen so fast, you know. The baby isn't due for another nine months."

"I know, but I also know that this is the right thing for me to do," Giselle said confidently. "Besides, the sooner he moved in, the sooner you could come add on to our house," she said nonchalantly.

That piqued Don's interest, just as Giselle knew it would. "Reaaaaaaaally?" he drawled. "What kind of add-ons are we talking here?"

"Near total renovation. Odin's drawn up some plans, but he obviously wants to run them by you first." Giselle smiled. "And I can finally pay you back for all that work you've already done."

Don shook his head. "Don't you dare. That key lime pie was the best damn payment I've ever had. I wouldn't be against working for simoleons from now on, though," he added.

"Of course! And I'll bake you a pie anyway." She watched him continue to search the shelves. "What, exactly, are you looking for?"

"Baby books?"

"Baby books."

"Seriously?"

"Well, more specifically, books about having babies. Aha!" he said triumphantly, pulling several books off the lowest shelf. "Why they hide them down there, I'll never know." He handed her a couple of titles.

"Baby Incoming: Preparing With Vigilance, and Totally Preggers: An Expecting Mother's Tale," Giselle read off. "What are these for?"

"Have you ever had a baby before?"

Giselle rolled her eyes. "No."

"Well, then these books will probably help you out with the whole pregnancy process. So I've heard."

It suddenly dawned on Giselle why Don would have so much knowledge about baby books. She glanced sideways at him. "Don? Why do you know so much about these books? And how did you know where they were? This library has no semblance of organizations." Don shrugged, and she laughed so loudly that nearby library patrons turned to look disapprovingly at them. "I'm so glad we never dated," she announced.

"Whatever," Don shot back. "You don't know what you missed."

Giselle laughed again. "We probably would have made pretty babies, though," she joked.

Don looked at her seriously. "Your baby with Odin will be beautiful. And that's the only sappy thing I'm saying to you until after that thing is born," he said, poking her in the stomach. "Now," he continued, before Giselle could say anything in response, "about those renovations …"

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Later that day, Odin plopped down on the couch next to Giselle and buried his face in his hands.

Giselle rubbed his back sympathetically. "It went that well, huh?"

"She was so upset. I didn't think she'd be that upset," he moaned into his palms.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. At least it's over with."

Odin lifted up his head and leaned back into the couch cushions. "That's true," he said. "Can we talk about something else? What did you and Don get up to at the library?"

Giselle snickered. "You say that like there's a vast list of entertainment options at the library," she teased. "He found some baby books for me to check out. You know, I hate to think how many dark-haired kids in this neighborhood are running around under the impression that their daddies are actually their daddies."

"Well, at least you'll have something to do at work. You do know that Yvette probably won't let you cook anymore, right? She'll be too worried that the fumes will affect the baby."

"The fumes of delicious food?" Giselle scoffed. "You're probably right, though. I'm hoping to talk Yvette into a few more months at least, she's just so stubborn. Anyway, these books aren't just for me. They're for you, too."

Odin looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I dunno, Giselle, you know how I feel about --"

"I know you don't like children. It's kind of hard for me to forget that, since I'm really looking forward to having a baby," she said quietly, cutting him off. "But it would mean a lot to me if you could at least skim through the books.

Odin realized it would be better if he surrendered this battle. He took the proffered books, but even as he flipped open to the first chapter, he knew the war was yet to come.

[spladoum]

Oh my. Tsk.

[Coo]

"How can you eat that crap?" Odin asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"How can you talk that way about your old workplace?" Giselle demanded, pulling yet another food container from the brown paper bag. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy, and her third trimester had brought on intense cravings for greasy food. She ate at Hogan's Deep-Fried Diner most evenings, but at Odin's request, she had ordered take-out tonight and brought it home for them to share.

"When I worked there, it wasn't crap," said Odin as he eyed their dinner suspiciously. "The quality of service seems to have diminished significantly since I left."

"You're just spoiled from working at the Bistro," Giselle stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm not sure I can keep that down," Odin said honestly.

"Hey, throwing up is my job, mister," said Giselle, stuffing half a cheeseburger into her mouth and rummaging around in the bottom of the bag for extra ketchup packets.

While she chewed, Odin took it upon himself to open the rest of the styrofoam boxes and inspect their contents. He was astonished by the sheer quantity of food. "Is this how much you always order?" Giselle nodded, her mouth too full to reply. "Do you have any money left in your bank account?!"

Giselle swallowed with a loud gulp and rolled her eyes at Odin. "I sell my produce, genius."

"And that's enough for you to pay for these insane dinners of yours? You could feed a small third-world country with this food."

"There's enough for me to pay for dinner at Hogan's every night, and stock the fridge," Giselle said, grinning widely. "Bet you didn't know your girlfriend was so talented in the garden."

"Of course I knew she was talented," Odin replied as he opened the refrigerator door. "What I want to know is if she's doing what she wants to be doing, or if she's doing what she thinks she should do." He closed the fridge door, a bowl of leftover salad in his hand. "Just because you grow the best lettuce I've ever had in my life doesn't mean that's what you should be doing with your time."

"Honey, what on earth are you talking about?" Giselle asked, frowning into her carton of hashbrowns.

"You've barely touched your easel since I moved in," Odin noted as he sat back down at the table. "And the only time you're on the computer is when you're on the internet, looking up information about the pregnancy. Why don't you paint something for the baby's room?" He paused. "Wait, that might not be such a good idea. Fumes, and all that."

"Yeah, thank you, Yvette," Giselle teased. Just as they had expected, Yvette Grisby had put Giselle on paid leave after her third month of pregnancy, citing how dangerous kitchen fumes could be for pregnant women.

Odin continued to look thoughtful. "So why don't you write instead? Your short stories are amazing. Have you considered writing a novel?"

Giselle shrugged. "I guess I haven't felt very creative lately. I've been too stressed, and too tired. I've wanted a family for so long, and now that I'm in the process of growing a baby, all the other stuff I wanted to do has gone by the wayside. I kept gardening because there's money in it, and we need as much of that as we can manage."

Odin nodded his understanding. "I just don't want you to lose your dreams to other people. Not to me, and not to the baby. You deserve more than that."

"But the baby deserves the best I can give it."

"You can be happy and still give the baby all it deserves," Odin said. "I'm sure of it. And I won't have an unhappy wife stomping around thirty years from now, grumpy that she never got to write that bestseller, or sell that masterpiece."

"Wife?" Giselle asked immediately.

Odin looked up from his salad. "You sound surprised."

Giselle flushed. "I just figured … since you hadn't brought it up yet, that …" She trailed off and stared fixedly into her lap.

"That I wasn't going to ask you to marry me?" Odin finished for her, his voice strained.

"Well, yes," Giselle replied in clipped tones.

"I'm … I'm sorry," Odin apologized, feeling awkward. "I didn't mean to go for so long without talking to you about this. I do want to marry you," he said earnestly, "but I wanted to wait until I had the money for a really nice engagement ring, and with all of the renovations and baby furniture … I'm so sorry I gave you the wrong idea. I have always had every intention of marrying you. I should have told you so. I can't believe I didn't, what was I thinking? I wasn't thinking, obviously."

He looked imploringly at Giselle. She gave him a small smile, but it didn't extend to her eyes, and she continued to look uncomfortable. Thinking fast, Odin did the first thing that came to mind: he dropped down on one knee.

"When I have a ring, I'll do this again," he began, "and this speech won't be the best, or the most romantic, because I haven't had the chance to think it through, but it will have to do." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I love you, Giselle. I always have, and I always will. I don't have much, but I want to share everything I do have with you, and I think we can build a pretty great life together. We've already started," he said, putting his hand on Giselle's stomach.

"You don't like kids," Giselle said automatically, but Odin could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Odin beamed up at her. "Will you marry me?"

Giselle chewed on her bottom lip as the tears started to fall. "Yes," she finally whispered. "Yes!"

Odin whooped loudly and gathered her into his arms for the tightest hug her belly would allow. "You just made me that happiest man in the world," he told her.

"Me too," she said, laughing and wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

"Except for the man part," Odin corrected.

Giselle smacked his arm playfully before pulling away and looking into his eyes. She sighed contentedly. "So, about that engagement ring …"

[spladoum]

How sweet :) I'm excited to see their baby ... and I hope Odin doesn't flip out TOO much!

[Coo]

Dear Heather,

I don't know how to begin this message, but telling you as much feels like an oddly appropriate greeting. I hope this is still your e-mail address.

I know you haven't heard from me in years, and you probably would be content to keep it that way. I don't blame you. Even so, the events that have transpired in my life over the last several months have led to my thinking of you often, and I couldn't keep myself from writing to you any longer. I'm making some overhauls in my life, and I've decided that I can't close myself off to the past anymore. You are an incredibly important part of my past, Heather. Possibly the most important part.

I wanted to apologize -- finally apologize -- for the way things turned out between us. I can't even begin to apologize for all the different incidents I regret. Part of the problem was our timing. We got married so young. Too young. It was a mistake, and neither one of us were ready for the challenges of married life. I was a stubborn pessimist, too blunt for my own good, and you were a passive idealist, too kind to tell me when I was being a jerk. It was a terrible combination. What were we thinking? Oh, that's right. We loved one another, didn't we? To be honest, it's been so long that I don't remember what being in love with you was like. I don't know about you, but I still have snippets of memory that are filled with lightness and laughter. I hope you have some of those memories, too. I hope that all the bad memories haven't drowned out the good entirely.

I wasn't ready to be someone's husband back then. I'm not sure if I'm ready now, but I'm engaged anyway. Her name is Giselle. I think you'd like her. I know you aren't supposed to tell an ex that, but I really think you would. I love her like mad. I've loved her from the moment I first laid eyes on her (and then subsequently infuriated her, which I'm sure is no surprise to you). She's good for me, but I'm not sure how good I am for her.

She's pregnant. It was an accident. I know you remember the circumstances that surrounded our breakup; I don't think I'll ever forget the look on your face when you called me a coward. You were right. I am a coward. I can't tell Giselle this, but I'm terrified. I couldn't leave her. Can't leave her. I just wouldn't do that. I love her too much, and even if I despised her, I'm not one of those men who avoids self-created responsibility. Not anymore. But I'm afraid now. I'm so afraid. Children tore us apart, Heather, and we didn't even have any. What am I going to do once this baby is born? I know I'll love it. I already do. I just don't think I can stand to be around it. I know that doesn't really make sense; I can't quite explain it, even to myself. It's something about the way kids cry and whine, the way they smell, the fact that they're always sticky, the fact that they can't fend for themselves. I can't deal with them. I don't know how, and I don't want to learn. I don't want to touch them with a ten-foot pole.

I can only hope that my love is enough to make up for all the mistakes I know I'll make.

I'm sorry to dump this on you, after all of this time. I honestly don't expect you to reply, and if you were to do so, I don't know what I would expect you to say. I just know I had to tell you.

I hope you're doing well,
Odin



Odin hesitated for a moment, his fingers drumming restlessly on the wooden desktop. Then, in one abrupt motion, he hit the "send" key before leaning back in the office chair. He checked the computer clock.

"Where is Giselle?" Odin muttered. He hadn't realized how much time he'd spent perfecting his e-mail to Heather. Giselle and Don had gone to dinner at Hogan's, but Don usually had her home by eight at the latest. It was nine now. "She should have been home an hour ago."

He tried her cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. That never happened. Odin had seen her unplug her cell from its charger that morning, so it couldn't be out of battery power. She had either intentionally turned it off, or it was broken, or she was out of service range -- but where in Riverview would she have been out of range?

Frantic now, Odin ran to the bed and yanked open the bedside table drawer, shuffling through the scraps of paper in search of Don's phone number. A bright patch of yellow caught his eye at the bottom of the drawer. He pulled out the phonebook and flipped to the "L's". Don's cell was not listed, but his home number was. It was worth a shot.

Don's teenage daughter Marion answered."What?"

"Marion, it's Odin."

"'Sup, old man."

"Is Don there?"

"Naw, he went out to that grease shack with Giselle. Thought choo knew?"

"They're usually back by now."

"Maybe the nasty food made 'er pop or sumthin'."

Odin tried very hard to keep his voice calm. "Yeah, maybe. Listen, do you have Don's cell phone number? I can't reach Giselle through hers, and I really need to get in touch with her." Marion repeated the seven digits to him. "Tha--" Odin started, but she had already hung up on him.

He was too relieved to have Don's cell number to ruminate on how poor Marion's people skills were. He dialed the numbers and held the receiver to his ear, breathless with anxiety.

"Hello?" Don answered, sounding breathless himself.

"Don! Thank God! Where's Giselle?!"

"Oh, geeze, Odin, I'm so glad you called! I've been trying to find your number, but Giselle dropped her phone on the sidewalk and it broke, and I only have her cell number in my address book, and the hospital's short-staffed tonight, so the nurses have been too busy too --"

"The WHAT?" Odin shouted.

"The nurses, the nurses, we're at the hospital! You've got to get here soon, Odin. Giselle went into labor as we were leaving the diner. You're about to be a daddy!"

[suzdez999]

:lol: Oh my what a turn up!!

Sue :D

[spladoum]

Oh, how funny! :D I like Marion, can she stick around for a while?

[AgentPersephone]

Wow, I've just come out of the shadows from lurking. :wub:

I absolutely love this legacy. The Fairgates were okay, but when you bring Sims 3 in, it's amazing!

Will the newspaper girl come back again? I rather like her.

[cadiva]

Great story, loving the twists and turns.

[Coo]

"No, no, no … dammit, Marion, no!," Don shouted into his cell phone. "You can't invite that Jones boy over. What do you mean why not?! I almost clawed my eyes out when I walked in on you two last week! I mean it Marion, you can't --" Don glanced up and saw Odin running around the corner, huffing and clutching a stitch in his side. "Okay, okay, yes, but … honey, okay, look, I have to ... MARION, WOULD YOU STOP TALKING FOR TWO SECONDS! … Sheesh. Thank you. Odin's here. I'll call you back soon, but there had better not be --"

Click.

"Damn teenager," Don muttered as Odin came to a screeching halt in front of him.

"How is she?" Odin demanded. "Where is she?"

Don merely pointed to the hospital room directly behind him. A faint wail was coming through the walls. He smiled at Odin. "It's a girl."

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"ODIN! WHERE DID YOU PUT THE BABY WIPES? I NEED TO CHANGE ESME!"

"I THOUGHT YOU PUT THE WIPES AWAY!"

"IF I'D PUT THEM AWAY, I'D KNOW WHERE THEY WERE! GOD, CAN'T YOU TURN THAT DOWN? YOU'RE GOING TO BURST THE BABY'S EARDRUMS!"

Odin poked his head out of the bedroom, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I forgot that I shouldn't play my music so loudly anymore."

Giselle unplugged her fingers from her ears. "You aren't just going to ruin Esme's hearing, you're going to ruin your own," she stated matter-of-factly. "Your hearing's going to begin with, you old fart."

Odin gave her a playful shove and a kiss on the cheek. "Look who's talking, you old fogie." He walked back into the bedroom. When he turned the stereo back on, the sound was hardly audible through the closed door.

Giselle sighed and went into the nursery. She picked up a squirming Esme and cuddled the baby close, taking pleasure in the newborn's weight.

As much as Giselle teased Odin about his growing older, she spent late nights worrying about whether her own age would affect their daughter's life. Both Odin and Giselle would inch into elderhood during Esme's early childhood. She knew age wouldn't matter as much for Odin, because older fathers were far from unheard of. Giselle most feared that her own age would keep her from relating to their daughter. She was afraid that she would be unable to remember her own youthful experiences, and that Esme would grow up in a household like the one from Giselle's childhood: cold, and unfeeling, and uncaring. She wouldn't let that happen.

She couldn't let that happen.

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"Is Esme down for the count?"

Giselle had just walked in on Odin pacing nervously in their bedroom. He had blurted out the question after several seconds of looking like a deer in headlights, and she knew he wasn't interested in the answer.

"What's the matter?" she asked, frowning.

Odin was running his hands through his hair, looking a bit crazed. "Nothing, nothing's wrong."

"Really? Because you look like someone stole your favorite guitar pick." Odin glanced wildly over to the bedside table. "It's still there! Dear God, what is wrong?"

"I don't know why I'm so worried, it's not like we haven't done this before …" He shook his head rapidly, like he was trying to shake off his nerves.

"Done what?"

Holding her gaze with his own, Odin got down on one knee and reached into his back pocket. He presented Giselle with a black velvet box.

"Oh, Odin …" Giselle started, tears already welling in her eyes.

Odin flipped open the box with his thumb, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. "Will you marry me? For real, this time?"

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The ceremony was small. Giselle and Odin wed at nightfall beneath their cherry tree, with only the minister, Don, and Marion (holding a sleeping Esme) as witnesses.

Odin's hand shook slightly as he slid the wedding band onto Giselle's finger, but hers were steady and warm. She had never been more certain of anything in her life. Not since she left Riverblossom Hills.

"You may seal your promise with a kiss," the minister concluded.

Giselle grinned as she pulled away, and Odin placed another kiss on her forehead.

"I have one more stipulation," she whispered, as they reveled in their post-ceremony bliss.

"And what's that?" Odin whispered back.

"Esme keeps my last name."

[spladoum]

Bwa ha, Marion's a mess :D
And I like the name Esme. Very elegant.

[Coo]

Giselle's long-desired family had finally become a reality, but it wasn't quite the joy she had imagined. She had hoped that Odin's dislike of children would not apply to his own, but it seemed her hopes were in vain.

Odin was a wonderful, attentive husband, but the excessive affection he gave Giselle did not make up for his lack of contact with Esme. When Esme was an infant, this wasn't much of an issue: Giselle simply cared for Esme in all ways necessary. If Giselle wasn't around, Odin changed the occasional diaper and fed Esme her bottle, but for the most part, he took over all of the other household chores so that Esme became Giselle's only concern. Giselle couldn't complain too much about this arrangement . She was her happiest when she was with Esme, although she imagined that she would be still happier with both her husband and daughter.

To be fair, Odin did his best to help out in ways that didn't require him to actually be around Esme. He researched and purchased the best childhood development books on the market, he brought home the most highly rated toys, and he got in touch with world-renowned pediatricians, just in case their services were ever required. It was just as Odin had predicted so long ago: he clearly loved his daughter, and had a vested interest in her happiness and growth, but he simply couldn't stand to be near her. It wasn't Giselle's ideal setup, but her biggest concern was that Odin and Esme would never develop a relationship beyond apathetic housemates.

To everyone's surprise, a toddler-aged Esme did develop an attachment to her father. He, of course, did not reciprocate. She vied for his attention as much as a two-year-old could, and Odin dealt with her with as much patience as he could muster. Although she followed him around the house, she managed, for the most part, to stay out from underfoot. He couldn't be too upset with her if she was never in his way. And it was sort of cute that her first word was "da-da," and that she reserved its use for those rare occasions when Odin picked her up for one reason or another. Luckily, Esme did not notice the far-away look in his eyes when he held her, nor did she understand why he was the last to come when she cried. Esme was too young to comprehend these things, but Giselle was not.
Giselle had no choice but to grit her teeth and bear Odin's quirks. After all, it wasn't that he was cruel, or neglectful in any way.

Giselle found sanctuary in the fact that she would soon be too old to bear children, and so Esme would be their one and only. She could only pray that, once Esme was a teenager, the rift that would inevitably form between Odin and Esme could be mended.

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It didn't take Odin and Giselle long to realize that their house was not big enough for a family of three, and it certainly wasn't large enough for the extended family Giselle hoped to one day have. As a result, another home renovation was in the works for the Devereaux household, and Don Lothario was, once again, the man in charge. This time, there was more than enough money for the four-bedroom home Giselle wanted, and she was so excited that she almost didn't know what to do with herself. She still occasionally relived the memories of visiting the local gym just to take a shower, and now she was planning a home with three full bathrooms.

Giselle was on the phone with Don, and they had just finished discussing her ideas for the new house.

She switched the phone receiver from one ear to the other. "Don, you know how people always say you shouldn't quit your day job?" Giselle asked. "Well, you should quit your day job."

Don chuckled. "And do what? Renovate your house a few more times?"

"Yes! Well, not just my house, obviously. You should be a contractor! You're excellent at it, and you know it. You even have a small team assembled already, and you've talked about hiring a few more people for my upcoming renovation. You have practically everything you need to do this. Admit it, you've spent more time working on this house in the last few months than you have in your office."

"I have no trouble admitting it, but you're easy."

"Gee, thanks, pal."

"You know what I mean. You don't know a lot about this sort of thing. I make suggestions, and unless you really hate it, you go along with what I say."

Giselle rolled her eyes. "That's because you know what you're doing. I don't know if you're aware of this, but people tend to put their faith in other people who know what they're doing."

"I detect some sarcasm," Don said.

Giselle ignored him. "You have a talent for this sort of thing, and I know you love it. I think your time would be better spent as a contractor than it is up in that big ol' CEO office."

"Don't you mean avoiding that big ol' CEO office?"

"That, too."

"Well, maybe I'll give it some thought the next time I decide not to go into work."

"I think you should. Hey, I've got to go, Esme is awake. Can you remind Marion that she's babysitting tomorrow evening?"

"I still can't believe you let my kid babysit Esme."

"It was your idea! You said she needed something to do other than go to school and make out with Leland Jones."

"I know I said that, but I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

"Well, believe it or not, she's the best babysitter we've ever hired. You don't put enough faith in your daughter."

Don sighed heavily. "I think the problem is that she doesn't put enough faith in herself." He seemed to brighten up a bit. "I think you're having a positive influence on her, though. I hear her playing guitar in her room a lot. Thank Odin for me, for being so willing to teach her."

"He's glad to do it," Giselle assured him. "And I'm glad to see that he really can tolerate teenagers," she said honestly.

Don went on as if he hadn't heard her. "Those lessons are doing wonders, and I think it's a real catharsis for her," Don continued. "Growing up without a mom has been hard on her," he added, sounding uneasy.

Don had never spoken of Marion's mother before. Giselle cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Odin. "Sweetie, go take care of Esme. I need to stay on this call."

After Odin had walked out of the room, she removed her hand from the receiver. "Don? What happened to Marion's mother?"

"I think what you're really asking is if her mother was just another woman in my life, and if I got stuck with the unexpected baby," Don corrected.

"Well … yeah, that about covers it. I'm sorry. I know that's insensitive."

"Please, don't apologize. I don't have the best track record when it comes to women, but part of that is due to Marion's mother. Her name was Rhonda." Don paused, collecting his thoughts. "No one will ever measure up to her. I was willing to settle down for her, to be a husband, to start a family. But she died right after Marion was born. Complications from the birth. It was awful."

"I see," Giselle said awkwardly, in an attempt to fill the silence. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Don."

"Me, too. I've done the best I can with Marion, but everyone knows I'm not cut out to be a parent. I'd always assumed that Rhonda would be beside me, helping me. I never thought about what it would be like raising a child without her. Since she died, I've tried to find Marion a mother, someone who would raise her as well as Rhonda would have. I know it's silly, but I'm still looking, and I've earned quite a reputation in the process. I think I take comfort in the whole dating process now, because I know no one will ever be good enough. It's safe, somehow."

Giselle was surprised by this admission. She had never considered that there might be a reason behind her friend's Don Juan tendencies. "I don't think you need to worry too much about Marion," she finally said. "She's turned out just fine, and she still has time and room to grow out of her bad habits. A mother would be nice, but I think what she really wants is for you to be happy. So, if dating makes you happy, go for it. But you don't have to do it for Marion's sake."

"And I doubt I'm setting the best example for her," Don joked.

"Maybe not. But I've heard that Leland Jones is a good character, so I wouldn't be too worried if I were you."

"I hope you're right. Oh shoot, I'm late for work."

"You're actually going in?" Giselle asked incredulously.

"I know, it's a miracle! It's the second time this week! Talk to you tomorrow?'

"Talk to you then. Bye, Don."

"Bye, Giselle."

[spladoum]

Oh, Odin. It might be too late by the time Esme's a teenager. :(

[Coo]

Dear Diary,

Mommy and Daddy are fighting agin. I'm don’t no why, but they started during brekfast and are still shouting. I don't like it when they fight. It scares me. Mommy hasn't been feeling to good latly. She keeps throing up. Maybe that's why their fighting now.

I played with Melonie after school today. We played my new video game. She gets mad somtimes when we play togethr becuse I have video games at home and she dosn’t, so I win a lot more. We are good friends, though, so she always forgives me befor she gose home. I like her a lot.

Mommy put me in the chess club at school. I didn't want to, but she said it will be good for me. I got good after I played a few tiems, so now the only kid my age who can beet me is Paulo. Paulo and I play chess at my house a cuple of tiems a week. Sometimes I get mad becuse he reads lots of chess books and noes moves I don't, and somtimes he gets mad because I no things that arent in his books. Mommy makes us shake hands after we play, no matter who wins the game. I wish Paulo was a girl. Girls don't have cootys. I wouldn’t get mad fun of for playing with Paulo at school sometimes if he was a girl. No one cares if I play with Melonie or Misti or Elisa.

I really wish they would stop yelling.

Esme

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"Just go to the damn doctor, Giselle!"

Giselle shook her head angrily, but continued washing the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. The dishwasher had been broken for days, but she hadn't felt well enough to fix it yet. "Don't you curse at me! Esme might hear you!" She lowered her own voice, but her tone did not lose its intensity. "Besides, it's my body, I'll go back to the doctor if I think I need to, and I don't think I need to! She said I was just fine!"

"But I'm worried about you! You've been feeling queasy and tired for months, how does that not concern you?"

"I have a kid, Odin. Actually, you do, too! And you would know how tiring it is if you spent more than ten minutes a day with her!"

"You haven't been to see the doctor in several months, something could have changed since then!"

"Drop it. Now."

"You've gained weight! You can't tell me you're happy about that."

Giselle's nostrils flared, but she didn't look up. "Are you telling me I'm fat? Did you just pull the fat card?"

"No! I'm just saying that you have gained some weight, but you're still eating the same, and you're exercising more than ever. Weight gain could be a sign of something more serious, right?"

"Oh, my God, it's not a big deal, Odin! The doctor said it was probably menopause starting in, that's enough to make anyone feel queasy, and tired, and some women do gain weight. Drop. It. Now."

"Menopause would certainly explain the moodswings," Odin snapped.

Giselle spun around to face her husband. "You did not just say that!" She threw the sopping dishrag onto the countertop and stomped into the foyer. "I'm going to Don's house," she said, gathering her purse and coat. "We'll probably go out for dinner, so I won't be back until later tonight. Tell Esme to call me if she needs me. Don't you even bother," she hissed, slamming the front door behind her.

Odin sat down at the dining room table and buried his face in his hands.

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"Daddy, what's wrong?"

Esme and Odin were sitting in the living room. Esme was reading a chess strategy book, and although Odin was trying to watch a movie, his eyes kept sneaking glances at the clock.

"Where is she?" he muttered.

"Who? Mommy?" Esme asked, eager for her father's attention.

"No one, no one," Odin said hastily, forcing his eyes back to the television screen.

Esme studied her father's face for a moment before returning her attention to her book.

Ten minutes later, Odin repeated his question.

"Can't you call her?" Esme suggested.

Odin gritted his teeth and tried not to raise his voice. He failed. "No, I cannot. Please go read your book in your room, Esme."

Esme quickly closed the book and bolted from the living room, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes as she ran.

Odin scratched his head wearily, barely aware that he has upset his daughter. He almost jumped when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled the little square out and picked lint off the corner before glancing at the Caller ID. It was Don. Odin let it ring to voicemail, but Don kept calling back. On the fourth attempt, Odin finally answered.

"You tell Giselle that she can call me herself if she wants to speak to me!" he barked by way of greeting.

Don cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Odin could hear shuffling in the background that he did not recognize as Hogan's Diner shuffling.

"Where the hell are you?" Odin challenged. "If you've run off with me wife, I swear to God, I will --"

"I didn't run off with her!" Don interjected. "C'mon, Odin, you know better than that."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm really stressed out. You were saying?"

"I have some kind of weird news for you …" Don began, but Odin was impatient.

"I figured that part out already! You didn't answer my first question Don, where are you?!"

Don sounded frazzled. "I'm trying to tell you, but I don't want to scare you!"

"How will you know if you're going to scare me unless you say what you need to say?"

"Point taken," Don agreed. "Okay, here it is: I had to take Giselle to the hospital. That's where I am now, in the waiting room."

Odin was suddenly on his feet, his anger already forgotten. "Why? What happened? Is Giselle okay? I told her to go see the doctor, but she's so stubborn sometimes, she just wouldn't listen!"

"She's fine, she's fine! I told you, I didn't want to scare you," Don said. "it's just … well, you know how she's been feeling bad for the last few months? Ummm, apparently it wasn't menopause."

Odin frowned, bewildered. "What do you mean it wasn't menopause? What else could it have been?"

Before Don could reply, the truth hit Odin like a bolt of lightning. He sank back onto the couch, eyes closed.

"She was pregnant, Odin. It's a girl. Giselle named her Aimee. Congrats, man."

[spladoum]

Not. Good.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry ... Odin is gonna lose his mind!

[Coo]

A/N: As I've commented before, my game seems to have a mind of its own, and I thought I'd share the latest anecdote with everyone.

As many of you may know, when you're playing the legacy challenge in Sims 3, you aren't supposed to play any other houses in the neighborhood. Since storytelling is such an important aspect of my legacy, I bend this rule on occasion, but there's a reason for the rule that I hadn't previously anticipated: unplanned births! (My fault, of course, for not having turned off all of the appropriate Indie Stone options.) Now Esme, who I'd meant to be an only child, has a sister. Let the games begin …

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"I still don't get how you didn't know you were pregnant."

Odin and Giselle were in the nursery, staring down into the crib at the tiny infant who lay within.

"Kind of like how you didn't notice I was pregnant," Giselle shot back. "Besides, I didn't think I could have babies anymore. I thought I was too old."

Odin reached down to stroke Aimee's cheek, and Giselle watched him suspiciously. Aimee had been home from the hospital for several days now, and Odin acted differently towards the new baby than he did towards Esme. Giselle wasn't sure if it was due to Odin's age, or his life experience, or the sheer exhaustion that hating children must have caused. Whatever the reason, Odin had already doted on his younger daughter more than he ever had on his older. He still grimaced and cringed around Aimee, but his urge to be around her seemed stronger than the urge to avoid her. Giselle didn't understand it one bit, but she was now of the mindset that the fewer questions she asked, the better off they would all be.

Odin's relationship with Aimee did not escape young Esme's notice, who delved into her school studies and the night sky to avoid thinking about her father's blatant favoritism. She was too shy to bring up the issue with her mother, and too terrified to even consider talking to her father about it, so she remained in a strange conversational limbo with both her parents. She turned with a heavy heart towards her peers, desperate for companionship.

The children in Esme's class at school had, for the most part, matured past the age of cooties and gender segregation, so while her peers still teased her on occasion, Esme spent much of the school day with Paulo Broke. Paulo and Esme were also part of a close-knit group of friends who spent a lot of time together after school, which meant that Esme and Paulo were often together more than they were apart. The Devereaux and Broke families assumed that their children were in puppy love, but that wasn't the case. Esme wasn't interested in that sort of thing, and it never occurred to her to ask Paulo if he "like-liked" anyone. Esme just needed someone to talk to. She told Paulo all of her secrets, and she trusted him implicitly -- as implicitly as one child could trust another. In return, Paulo told Esme his secrets, like the elaborate pranks he had played on his older brother Percy. Whenever the conversation turned to the topic of siblings, Esme grew somber, so Paulo tried not to mention Percy at all.

"I wish we'd taken the bus, this is taking foreeeeeveeeeer," Paulo complained one afternoon.

He and Esme were walking their bikes from the school yard to Esme's house, several blocks away. Esme had popped a tire on her ride to school, but hadn't realized until their designated school bus had already left the parking lot that afternoon.

"Geeze, sorry," Esme apologized half-heartedly. "But if we took the bus, we'd've had to leave our bikes at school. 'Sides, I don't live that far away. You're farther away than I am, least we aren't going to your house."

"But we never go to my house, we always go to yours."

"Mine's bigger," Esme said simply.

"Nuh-uh! Not anymore! Pop built a big garage, it has an entertainment area and everything! It even has two floors! Your garage doesn't have two floors."

Esme sighed wearily. "Whaddaya need a garage with two floors for, anyhow? You can't park a car on the second floor, can you?"

Paulo smiled. "Naw, but Percy almost did the other day. He's a teenager now, so Mama thinks it's time for him to learn to drive. Bad idea. Pops almost had a fit when he found out. It's gonna take Perce three months to pay off the damage."

Paulo glanced sideways at Esme. He'd mentioned his brother without thinking and, as he had expected, Esme had slowly down ever so slightly, and there was a sad look on her face.

"Hey Ez? How come we can never talk about my brother?"

Esme was quiet.

"Do you not like him or somethin'? 'Cause he's kind of a goof, but he's a good guy. He's smart, too, he helps me with my homework a lot, and he's pretty funny sometimes."

Esme shook her head. "Percy's always been real nice to me." She chewed on her lip, trying to decide whether or not she should go on. "It hurts to hear you talk about him."

Paulo furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Aimee."

"What about her?"

"She's my sister, but Daddy like her better. A lot better. Your parents treat you and Percy the same. If you don't talk about Percy, I can pretend like he isn't real, and I can pretend that it's okay for Daddy to treat me and Aimee different."

"Oh." Paulo looked uneasy. He knew Esme and her father didn't have the best of relationships, but he knew nothing about Odin's relationship with Aimee. "I'm sorry, Ez."

Esme shrugged and picked up the pace. She could see her house in the distance, and she was eager for a game of chess. "S'okay," she said. "I'm getting good at pretending."

[spladoum]

Oh, man. Poor girl. :cry:

Incidentally, I'm okay with playing other households (especially in a case where an auxiliary character is all tied up in the storyline), but maybe turn story progression off next time? ;) Kidding, I love the twist. But poor Esme all the same, I hope she doesn't run away from home!