How Green Becomes Wood

"Oh, Dark cried. Right there in front of everyone, he cried. And he still does, sometimes, when he feels her, especially when we're cuddling just us, and she gets going... I love waking up so much now, because I know he'll be right there, and we just lie in bed together talking and feeling her kick and I--" She inhaled sharply, "No, I'm sorry. I can't cry, he put so much work into my makeup! It's just, he loves me so much, and he loves her, and there are some mornings where the f-first thing I feel is her, of course, because she hates it when I sleep, but then I feel Dark's hand on my belly, and he's whispering, no, hush, go back to sleep, do not wake Mama. And I just lie there with him, and it's like no one else matters and no one else is even alive, in those moments it's just us three."

She swallowed, trying to dry her face the way Dark, years ago, had taught her to do when she wore makeup. Miraculously, she sobered along with her friend, "He's always been prone to them, as I'm sure you can imagine. The things he's seen. But I think now that this is real--I've passed the age of viability so it's now extremely likely we'll actually have her-- his brain is letting him have other fears besides what will happen to her, and what will happen to me if something happens to her. For the first time his mind is making him cope with the possibility of having her but not me. But I'm a light sleeper, so most of the time his upset wakes me so I can soothe him, and if not, when he wakes up, myself and this extremely active little Hummingbird are there to remind him it was only a dream... God, Sally, I'm sure you feel the same way about Jack, but I swear, I don't think a man has ever loved a woman more than he loves me. And I don't think a woman has ever loved a man more than I love him."

She traced little hearts on her middle with one finger, "And you don't want to be pregnant again... But I'm sure you can find some random teenager or two somewhere."
 
Sally cleared her throat and took a couple of deep breaths. "Please don't cry, Daizi," she pleaded quietly. "If you start crying, you will set me off, and then we'll both arrive at the dinner looking like castoffs from some emo band or other. Your makeup is so perfect I could not possibly get it looking right again! So we mustn't cry." She reached out and patted Daizi's hand very lightly before quickly returning it to the wheel. "My goodness but you two should write a relationship book. Your story is beautiful. The hardships just make it that much more beautiful."

She took a moment more to control herself and then laughed a little. "If I brought home a teenager or two, I think Jack might try to have me committed to a mental hospital." She glanced at Daizi briefly. "Speaking of the teenagers, how did the visit with their aunt go?"
 
"I can just wear sunglasses," She laughed lightly, still trying to dry her eyes, "and I can't help it. We're just so happy. He's terribly jealous, you know, he wants to be the one taking me out tonight."

She thought back to December, "It's really amazing I didn't commit Dark when he called me about them. I suppose with the weather, then, what were we to do? It started with 'just one night,' but that's how they get you. It's like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. The visit went well, I think. It exhausted both of them, which I can well imagine. But Ciara, that's their aunt's name, promised to try to form a relationship with them, and took more accountability than he ever did."
 
Sally smiled slightly at Daizi's comparison to the book but said nothing more on the subject. She was happy to hear that the aunt was doing more than the father, but she felt it wasn't her place to ask for any more details than Daizi willingly offered. Instead, she shifted the topic to something more lighthearted and chatted with Daizi until they arrived at the massive building that housed the event. It was difficult to tell if the place was an event center, a house, or both, not that Daizi could see it to judge, and a steady stream of high-end cars made their way to the front door.

"Alright, here we are. It's valet parking, so we are going to be getting out at the front door," Sally told Daizi as they drew closer. "In just a moment, a charming young man is going to come open your door and help you out. If you hold out your hand as soon as you hear the door unlatch, he'll meet your hand rather than you trying to find his."

She parked the car, and just as she said, two young men likely still in high school came rushing over to open the doors. Sally held out her hand and allowed the one on her side to help her out. The one on Daizi's side gaped a little at the unexpectedly pregnant woman but quickly recovered himself and moved to help Daizi out as well.
 
"Thank you for the warning," Daizi said. Many people forgot about little things like that. She was very familiar with reaching out one hand and waiting to be recovered, so she didn't feel awkward or self-important to do so, nor did she notice the man gape at her, since it was hardly possible for her to do so. And, with the seats as low as they were, and her center of gravity as it was, she was thankful for the help getting back on her feet. When they got home, especially if she was tired, she'd need to beckon her husband outside to fetch her.

"What is this for, exactly?" She asked, being walked over to the sidewalk to meet her friend, "and what sort of people should I expect to meet?"
 
"Oh, dear, I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" Sally frowned, her forehead scrunching briefly. She took Daizi's arm lightly. "You might want to hold onto me. It is always a bit crowded right at the front. This is half fundraiser, half celebration. My department was able to prove a couple of things, go above and beyond expectations, and meet all of our goals, the usual boring stuff like that, so my bosses decided to throw a party to celebrate our achievements, but with an expectation that we press the flesh and behave nicely to the benefactors who might be willing to make donations so we can continue our work. It's all rather tedious, but the food is usually quite good, and the people are usually quite polite aside from the occasional petty office politics person. A few old-fashion chauvinists, but they are pretty harmless and too rich to kick in the shin."

They walked through the giant double doors into the entryway where four young people frantically tried to keep up with checking coats - because a surprising number of people had worn some sort of coat or wrap despite the fact that it was July - and a few purses. Sally gently and patiently guided Daizi to follow the flow of people through the entryway and into the enormous ballroom filled with people sweeping about and chatting. The volume was at a low, consistent murmur as they spoke, but it promised to get louder as more filed in. Round tables offered seating around the edges, and longer tables offered mounds of fancy foods along two opposite walls.
 
"Oh, I will be holding onto you for much of the night, don't worry," Daizi said softly, staying close to her like she always had with Dark or, more recently, Alec, "and now that you describe it, it sounds very similar to the sort of events I've been made to attend throughout my career. Dark is fortunate, his events are all just a holiday party in the school gym. I've never gone, he says he doesn't want to torture me with them, and he doesn't want to taint his personal life with bringing it into his professional one. Except now, his studentd are our foster kids, so I suppose now I may as well go, since the professional and personal have already bled into each other."

When they went inside, she held onto Sally's arm a bit more firmly. She could hear the size of the space, and could guess at the number of people it would end up holding. It wasn't an unfamiliar situation for her, and at times, Daizi had even attended gatherings like this alone, but she knew nobody here except for Sally--unless, which was possible--some generous doner also donated to her work, "Would you mind terribly if we find a place to sit first, so I can have an anchor point, and then you walk me around the room?"
 
"Of course not!" Sally told her completely willingly. She slowed her walk but did not completely stop as she scanned the room, looking for an optimal place. "Ah, there we go. There is a small table with two chairs right near the buffet table. One of them. There are two standing across the room from each other, so that might confuse you, but this one has what appears to be a cheese and a chocolate fondue station, and the other does not."

She guided Daizi to the table and pulled out a chair for her. "We are perhaps one-third of the way down the wall with our backs to said wall," she informed Daizi. "The buffet is to our right, and..." She paused, thinking. "Am I missing anything?"
 
"The bathroom, I'm six months pregnant," Daizi said quickly and lightly, the way a bird lands on a branch in front of you and then immediately flies away, "but no, this is very helpful. Thank you. And I'm sure when we actually go to eat, you will talk me through what is where. It'd be too much to hold in my brain if I asked you to describe everything now."

With one hand, Daizi felt the chair, having heard it be pulled out. She wanted to know where the back and seat on it were, if it had arms, if it was solid or if it gave a little, and considering where they were, if it was covered with fabric like they had at certain weddings.

Then, as she sat down, she said, "You know... I remember how your husband once mentioned having met those... God, I cannot even recall their names, something with an S... Well, their son was Logan, and he met them because of something to do with work. I haven't thought of them in ages, but I wonder if they'll be here. They'll be shocked out of their wits if they see me, if they remember me, but my face is hard to forget."
 
The chair was not covered in fabric and armless, though some of the others were, and metal with a padded seat. It was not the most comfortable seat, but reasonably comfortable. Sally sat in the one near Daizi and moved a little closer.

"Oh, yes, I remember you telling me about them," she hummed. "I certainly hope they are not here. I cannot imagine they would add much to the atmosphere. I'd rather take a couple of those darling, old chauvinists. At least they have the good graces to look embarrassed when they try to speak to one of my male underlings and get directed back to me." She looked around. "I am not certain where the lavatories are, to be honest." She paused, pursing her lips. "Will you be alright if I leave you here and go looking? I should be circulating at least a little this early, so that will be a good excuse to seek the washroom. Then I can return, and we can circulate the room together."
 
"It would almost be amusing, the way they spoke to me... Did I tell you, she gave me her plastic surgeon's card? 'Even the worst cases,' she said... No, it'd be better if they weren't here, I don't want to learn what they'd say about my 'condition.' I wasn't showing when we met." Daizi played with the fabric of her dress and then smoothed the front of it, smiling brightly at Sally, "The chauvinists are always fun. When I'm with Dark, they presume he's the doctor, not me, and he's so funny the way he corrects them. Nobody ever expects me to be able to do anything."

She said it almost like it was a point of pride, proving everyone wrong at every turn, "I'll be alright. I know you aren't technically working... But you are, so go do what you need to do. I'm not technically alone, anyway."
 
Sally chuckled as she stood. "Alright. I shall do my best to be quick. If you do anything you feel you might regret later, or feel like you might, just draw attention to that little baby bump of yours and sigh melodramatically about hormones. That usually does the trick to scare away most of the unsavory element. I'll bring you back a drink."

Sally departed, gliding among the group of people with skill and practice as she tried to deftly avoid anyone she knew would want a longer conversation and steer toward the people she knew would be satisfied with a quick hello. It took her perhaps fifteen minutes to locate the ladies' room and make her way back to Daizi. She's almost reached Daizi when one of the men she'd been trying to avoid caught her and stood blithely yammering away while Sally pasted on a polite smile, nodding occasionally.

A young woman dressed in a red dress more befitting a club than a refined black tie event came over to Daizi. "Oh, my, but aren't you precious!" she squeaked in a falsetto voice. "How far along are you?"
 
Daizi laughed at Sally's response, and settled in to wait for her return. There wasn't really much for her to do in the meanwhile, but she listened to the conversations around her, trying to pick out anything interesting or to catch the sound of a familiar voice. And she gave sweet, gentle caresses, taps, and pats to her middle, although it was a rare moment where the baby was still, or she played with her wedding ring.

At the sudden intrusion, Daizi sat little straighter, and on instinct began to say, "Oh, I'm not--" but then she recalled she was here as Sally's guest, and not knowing anyone, thought it would be better to not risk saying something that could possibly cause trouble for her friend, even in the mildest of ways, so she took a small breath to push past how sweetly patronizing being called 'precious' for simply existing-while-pregnant, and said, politely enough, "24 weeks. Almost 25."
 
"Oh, wow! I would not have guessed it. You look simply marvelous!" the woman said in a voice made of syrup. "You carry the extra weight very well. I could never even imagine putting my body through something like that. You are such a martyr to give up your body for the continuation of the human race."

Behind the woman, were Sally still stood trapped in one-sided conversation, Sally spotted her and closed her eyes briefly, her smile faltering. She nearly tried to make some sort of signal to Daizi before realizing how pointless that would be. Her conversation companion kept on going, blissfully unaware of what was happening.
 
Now, Daizi's formerly polite smile became rather amused, and she hoped it didn't show, "Well, thank you. They say tall women carry smaller, because they have longer torsos. But, you know what they say, love is blind and all that... It's only nine months and at the end... Besides, what really is the alternative? If you've ever been with a cisgender man, unless you're committing to abstinence, even with the best birth control there's always a chance. Even those surgeries have a chance at failure..." She made a production of shrugging her shoulders and running her hands down the front of her belly, "so really, you never know. They told me I was infertile."
 
"Uh-huh, that's what they tell me!" said the young woman with an airy laugh. "Cisgender, what's that? A kind of fetish? Must be fun!" It was clear she wasn't actually listening. "I could never actually carry a baby myself, but they are so cute! And I dearly love feeling their little kicks. Can I feel?" She reached down and touched Daizi's belly before Daizi would have the time to formulate a word.

Sally had finally extricated herself from the old man and was hurrying toward Daizi.
 
As soon as she felt the hand on her belly, Daizi gently but firmly grabbed the woman's wrist and removed her hand, "Normally if you ask someone a question like that, you wait to hear their response before doing anything. It's the polite thing to do." She then released the stranger, and taking a breath said, "she's not moving right now, anyway, which I might have told you and saved us all the trouble."
 
The woman huffed. "Oh, I see. You're one of those people," she said dryly, making no effort to disguise her disdain. "What a pity. I really thought-"

"If that pretty head of yours entertained even one thought, I just might faint in shock, Penny," Sally said dryly as she came up alongside the woman. She smiled as she said it, but there was an edge to her tone. She dropped her voice, an extra silky tone coloring her words as she continued. "Just because Mr. Greenbourough enjoys having your hands all over him does not mean the rest of us enjoy the same pleasure."

Penny's cheeks flushed brightly, and her mouth moved without any sound coming out. "You would dare imply..."

"Please, it is not like you are exactly subtle," Sally remarked. "For now, please, shoo. I have enough dregs to deal with, I haven't the time to deal with a secretary with, I may say, limited flexibility."

Penny's face turned even redder, and she stormed off.

Sally set the glass on the table next to Daizi. "One nonalcoholic cider for you, dear Daizi," she said smoothly.
 
"One of those people," Daizi repeated, calmly, smiling, even, hoping this girl would explain what she meant. One of those people who... hate being touched without permission? One of those people who... believe in consent? One of those people who... respect bodily autonomy?

But then Sally returned and handled it, so Daizi sat back and let the story unfold as it would. After the girl stormed off, she found the glass, and after taking a sip said, "Thank you. Mm, secretaries... I would have told her yes, had she waited. I wonder what she would've done if I told her I wasn't pregnant."
 
"Laughed like the bobble-headed Barbie doll she is and then, if she believed you, suggested whatever latest dieting fad she's following, or told you how utterly witty you were," Sally said dryly. "I do apologize for her. Mr. Greenbourough's desk bunnies usually have the sense to know their place. After all, he has his wife on his arm this evening, not her." She sighed and waved a hand. Office politics are such a bore!"
 
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