Page 61 of Despite It All
They manage to eat half of their soups. As I wash up their bowls, Wyla takes Stevie to the couch where she begsto watchTangledagain since she didn’t get to finish it, and neither of us have the heart to argue.
Once the movie ends, Wyla clicks off the TV. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“Better,” Stevie says with much more enthusiasm in her tone than she did this morning. “Can we go somewhere fun now?” Stevie looks back and forth between Wyla and I for one of us to answer.
“Well, Little Bee, you’ve been sick. I think we will stay here today.”
“No,” Stevie whines. “I have my powers back now, Daddy. We can go somewhere!”
I glance at Wyla, confused by Stevie’s use of “powers,” but Wyla gives me a confused smile back.
“Your powers?” Wyla chuckles.
Stevie holds up her hands as if it was obvious. “Yeah, you know, when you can play and you’re not sleepy. I have powers to do things now.”
Wyla and I both start to laugh. “Baby, I think you mean energy.” Wyla continues to laugh. “But I think I like your idea of powers better.”
“Yeah, me too,” I agree.
Stevie starts to squirm on the couch, her “powers” clearly kicking back in as she can’t be still.
“Okay, little girl.” Wyla stands from the couch when Stevie kicks her lightly on the side. “We can’t go anywhere because we don’t want to get other people sick…” Stevie whines loudly, testing Wy’s patience. “We can have fun here but no whining.”
Stevie jumps up like she hasn’t been sick all morning. “Okay, I promise!”
For the next couple hours, we paint on canvases at the kitchen table. Well, Wyla and I paint the canvases, Stevie paints them, the sheet, the chairs, the dog… herself. The girl is wild, her powers completely restored.
While Stevie helps me clean up her masterpieces, Wyla makes her “famous” grilled cheeses. She heats up some tomato soup for her and I, then some more chicken noodle for Stevie.
“What are we doing next?” Stevie asks when Wyla takes her dishes to the sink.
“I think up next is going to be bedtime. Mommy goes back to work tomorrow.”
Stevie sinks in her chair. “No, I don’t want you to go to work. You work all the time.”
The words aren’t directed at me but even I feel them like bullet.
Wyla takes a deep breath. “I know, baby, I’m sorry, but it’s mommy’s job. I have to go.”
“That’s not fair.” Stevie crosses her arms and her lip hangs so low she could trip on it. It’s at that moment I want to tell Wyla to quit her job and I’d give her everything in my bank account, but I know Wyla would probably slap me for that. My girl is independent, not having money that feels like her own isn’t something she’d go for.
“Stevie, please don’t pout.” Wyla walks back to the table and pulls Stevie in her lap. “Mommy’s powers are still low, but she’s trying. What can I do to make it a little better?”
Stevie cuddles into Wyla. “We could make a sister pile.”
Based on Wyla’s face I can tell the “sister pile” isn’t on the top of her list for things to do tonight.
I chuckle. “What’s a sister pile?”
Stevie's eyes light up. “Sister piles are so much fun, Daddy. Mommy makes a bed in the living room and I bring out all of my blankets and animals, then we have a sleepover! You can sleepover too. Belley says that her daddy would sleepover in her piles with her and her mommy sometimes.”
“Stevie—” Wyla starts but Stevie isn’t done stating her case.
“It will be so fun, Mommy, please! I’ll be good, I promise.” Her eyes are full of pleading. They practically put the nail in the coffin for not doing a pile tonight.
Wyla sighs. “Alright, fine, but you have to sleep, little girl. No playing or talking once we get settled.” Stevie bounces up and down like a ball in Wyla’s lap, which elects another sigh from Wyla. “I mean it, Stevie. I’ll move you back to your bed if you don’t.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Stevie beams and leaps from her lap. “I’m gonna get my blankets.”
