She loves the house. Well, that’s one weight off my mind.
We went inside, and I had to remember this wasn’t some vacation rental. This was my daughter’s home. I let her show us in and waited for an invitation to sit. As I looked around, I grew excited to see how she would make this place her own. I honestly can’t predict what she’ll do because not only are our styles different but also she’s such an interesting character. On one hand, her favorite color is green, and she loves earth tones. But on the other hand, she also loves bold, crazy patterns like those cute pajamas with the skulls on them (smh). She’s such a goofball and will do anything for a laugh.
Silence fell on us, and I got the feeling we should leave her in her own little paradise, but I couldn’t leave. Not yet. I know my child is wonderful, but I wasn’t 100% sure she’d be ok on her own and I could not leave until I knew. I playfully suggested we spend the night. She and I could share the bed while Winston crashed on the couch. She did not appreciate my poor attempt at humor.
She told me everything would be fine, and she was ready for this. I heard her. My brain recognized it as truth. But my heart. It’s not that I didn’t believe her. I know she’s right. She is the most responsible sim I know, and her skills are much higher than that of her peers. I just didn’t feel that release I needed to not fall apart in Winston’s arms when I get home.
We talked for a little bit about Brindleton Bay, how she’ll spend her first week, and what her friends are getting up to. I felt restless again and took a page from Winston’s book. I headed to the kitchen to prepare a meal. I know I’m in someone else’s house, but I don’t need permission to care for my child. Emerald cooks quite well, so I’m not concerned she won’t have good food to eat. But I don’t know when I’ll be able to cook for my baby again…or do anything motherly for that matter. If, by chance, she’ll be one of those kids who never comes home, at least I’ll have this one last act of motherhood.
Emmy took my fish pie, placed it on the table, and told me to sit. “You’re a guest now,” she said. I watched as she set the table and summoned her father. I don’t know. Something quickened inside me. Maybe it was the sweet confidence in which she spoke the words because it’s not like I’ve never seen her set a table before. Maybe it was seeing her in a literally different light. I have no clue. All I know is that I felt it—that release I needed. I can walk away and not worry. We did it! Through all our mess, we managed to raise a beautiful young lady with a good head on her shoulders. She could have been a monster, playing us against each other and causing all kind of spoiled brat havoc. But she is poised and respectful and will take this world by storm. They ain’t ready for Emerald Kierra Pope. I’ve never been more proud.
