Annie Hargreeves (
defenderofdesmoines) wrote2023-01-17 07:29 am
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MHA #2 | Tuesday Afternoon
Someone around here had been neglecting her plants.
They were alive still, of course; not only had Annie not been so distracted for the last month as to not kill her plants, but she also knew Diego watered them when he remembered, too. But Annie had noticed earlier that they were a little dusty, and more than a few were still clinging to some dead leaves or a withered flower, and they were -- neglected. It was the only word.
Annie even found a string of lights wound through one -- along with a knife, but there were knives in most of these pots -- leftover from the Christmas rager. Damn. She'd been kinda checked out on this kind of thing for awhile, huh?
And while she was working on this, a text message came in to confirm an appointment she'd set up a long time ago, way back before Wanda had ever come asking her for help, and Annie stopped with her little leaf trimmers and read it.
...and then stayed stopped, to think about it, before ultimately setting her phone aside and deciding that needed to be a discussion, and resumed tending to her nearly-self-uprooted aloe while humming to herself.
[for the husband! contents of conversation NFB, please!]
They were alive still, of course; not only had Annie not been so distracted for the last month as to not kill her plants, but she also knew Diego watered them when he remembered, too. But Annie had noticed earlier that they were a little dusty, and more than a few were still clinging to some dead leaves or a withered flower, and they were -- neglected. It was the only word.
Annie even found a string of lights wound through one -- along with a knife, but there were knives in most of these pots -- leftover from the Christmas rager. Damn. She'd been kinda checked out on this kind of thing for awhile, huh?
And while she was working on this, a text message came in to confirm an appointment she'd set up a long time ago, way back before Wanda had ever come asking her for help, and Annie stopped with her little leaf trimmers and read it.
...and then stayed stopped, to think about it, before ultimately setting her phone aside and deciding that needed to be a discussion, and resumed tending to her nearly-self-uprooted aloe while humming to herself.
[for the husband! contents of conversation NFB, please!]
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"They've got pistachio lattes now."
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Though if you were gonna swipe one of Diego's knives from this apartment, a plant knife was probably one of the easier ones to make off with.
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Which was kind of why she was hesitating about the text she'd gotten, in a way. What if she got too sad to care about her plants again? What if it wasn't just plants, next time?
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This was becoming increasingly obviously not about the plants.
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Because let's be real -- the events of last month were just the latest in a long line of tragedies in their lives. Something bad would happen again, probably sooner than later.
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"Yeah, so -- on that note," Annie started, sliding her hand down to take Diego's and heading over to the couch. "I have that doctor's appointment still, next week. To get my thing out."
And while nothing had changed as far as her desire to start a family -- Annie was just feeling wobbly enough about it in light of current events that she thought it warranted a little base-touching, first.
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"Oh, oh--the thing." Yes, that thing. "Are you still comfortable with doing that? I mean, I am all for it still, obviously, but it's not my body."
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Annie was pretty sure she was even better prepared for motherhood with the new tools she was taking advantage of as far as her mental health, but -- Diego had also been the one who was there with the White Claws and the hand-holding through all of it. It only seemed right to offer him the chance to voice any hesitations he might have.
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Plants weren't babies, she knew that, but it was kind of the perfect example of what was worrying her. She'd never fallen apart like that before.
(Because she had never let herself fall apart that hard, before, but Annie was still learning to recognize that part.)
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And, truthfully, Annie was both very sure about this, still, but also...she'd just gotten a really good look at what kind of pain you could go through as a parent, too. It had all gotten pretty real, all of a sudden.
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Annie had been through a lot, and a lot of it had been kid-related. Even if it hadn't been her kids.
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And, importantly -- she was working on herself. If she hadn't been, her answer would have been different, because that was part of what had gotten Annie into therapy in the first place: the knowledge that if they did this, Annie needed to be solid enough for Mom to eventually become someone you could depend on.
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Annie had maybe done a little reading in an effort to soothe her anxiety, in the month since she'd seen what being a mother had done to her friend and had also suffered a minor breakdown of her own.
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Please. Annie on her crankiest, most morning-sick day would still be nicer than a lot of people.
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Annie was trying not to have expectations, but it was hard when the island where you lived made a habit of inviting your future children to visit.
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It was a ways off, the scary parts, but Annie was very aware of the kinds of things she'd be going through. (Not all of the anxiety-reading had been soothing.)
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Babies and more scary things, but still rewarding!
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Again, trying not to have expectations, but it was hard.
"Maybe we should start thinking about buying a house, too."
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"I'm vetoing a house the size of a city block because you do not want to be looking for someone in there, trust me."
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Easier if you were a robot, maybe.
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It was hard not to just assume things there.
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Partly because of the pressure that she was sure she'd feel, but also because she didn't want to force them to think about their brother and his wife having all kinds of sex. That was what that meant, when you told people that.
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Unless you hooked up with someone with cool powers. That's different. That's...research.
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"Thank you," Annie told him with a giggle, leaning in for another kiss. "And in turn, I won't tell my mom until we've got, like, an ultrasound."
Annie could hold her off for awhile, but there was no doubt that Donna was about to be way more up in their business than she had been prior to now.
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"Fair point," Annie acknowledged, trailing her fingertips along Diego's neck. "At least she's probably all we'll have to deal with, from my side of things? Though we'll have to find a really discreet hospital."
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Then it occurred to him, "I've never even met my niece."
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It mostly seemed like a product of not being in contact with Allison for Claire's entire life, and that was different, now.
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Allison right now seemed content on being alone and snapping at everybody.
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"I mean, she's still mom Allison," Annie pointed out, more than a little aware of these kinds of things after the last month. "But I get what you mean. And that's a good point -- I'm still so used to being like, a public commodity. It's nice that this just gets to be...ours."
At least, for as long as Annie's little frame might allow for discretion.
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If you think he's gross now, just wait until you were actually pregnant, Annie.
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"Oh, I love that," Annie said softly, her breath actually catching a little. Family was gonna hit her, in this context, the same way Mom had. "Our little family. I can't wait. You're going to be such a good dad."
She just had a feeling. No evidence whatsoever to back it up, save for the couple of times she'd been four years old for a weekend and he hadn't allowed her to die.
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At the very least, they were both more than committed to trying their best for these kids (this kid?), and that probably counted for a whole lot in the grand scheme of things.