How Green Becomes Wood

"She is a thief," Dark said, standing aside, but near enough to retrieve his child if it became necessary.

"Every time I wear sunglasses she takes them off and puts them on," Daizi explained, "We bought her some of her own, she still only wants mine."

"How interesting," Ciara mused. "I suppose she likes your taste in glasses." She had no clue why Ivy might want Daizi's glasses and not her own, not knowing much at all about children. As far as she was aware, Ivy just liked the thrill of stealing sunglasses. Hopefully, that kleptomaniac tendency would not survive childhood.

"She must," Daizi sighed and knelt down, "Hummingbird, can Mama have my glasses back?"

"No," Ivy shook her head, letting go of Ciara's leg, "Vee!"

"They're not Ivy's, they're Mama's," Daizi said. When Ivy again refused to hand them over, Daizi sighed softly and then, pretending to be very sad, instead said, "But Ivy-Qadira, Mama really likes her sunglasses, and I was really wanting to wear them tonight."

Ivy watched her very closely, and following a few moments of clear hesitation, Ivy went over to her mother and tried to put the sunglasses onto her. She did poke Daizi a bit in the face, and slightly mess up her hair, but she mostly got them on properly. Then she leaned in to hug her mother and hugging her back, Daizi thanked her.

Dark, meanwhile, looked at Ciara and explained, "She is discovering empathy."

"That is an excellent thing to discover," Ciara said gravely as she waited patiently. "Empathy is a highly valuable quality." She'd never thought about it needing to be taught, so it was a fascinating experience for her to watch this interaction.

After taking a bit of time to say goodbye to Ivy, Daizi stood up holding her and handed her off to Dark. Then she kissed him goodbye, called a goodbye to her sons, and then picked up her cane, "Are you ready to go?'

The twins called back for their mother to have fun.

"Yes. My car is directly in front of the house," Ciara said, placing a hand on Daizi's arm to guide her to the car door.

"Perfect," Daizi said, walking with her, "I've been looking forward to this, it's been a long time since I've been to a place like this."

"When were you last at one?" Ciara made sure Daizi was comfortable, then she went around and got into the driver's seat. "I was at one once in my college years, and I have not been to one since. A younger coworker was talking about some experience she had, and I thought it sounded like something you might have more experience in than I."

"Not at this location, no," Daizi answered, fiddling with one of her many earrings, "but a few years ago, not long before we took in the twins, the Speakeasy my friends and I go to hosted one. It was a lot of fun."

"I am sure that we shall have a good time," Ciara said with more conviction than she felt. She was doing this for Daizi. She hoped to enjoy herself but was prepared to not, and that was okay.

After a relatively short drive, she pulled into the parking lot and took a moment to orient herself and where the door was before going to fetch Daizi. "It is a warehouse," she told Daizi as they walked toward the building, "and the club is in the basement. There is a bouncer at the door and a short line, but it seems to be moving very quickly."

"Oh, a bouncer?" Daizi asked, grinning, "It's been even longer since I've had that experience. What will you do if we get turned away?"

"That is not an option," Ciara said without missing a beat, "but if it should happen, then I shall take you to the restaurant or similar establishment of your choosing as a consolation."

The line did move quickly, so Ciara and Daizi did not have to stand long. There was a momentary pause, but then a small clump of people left, allowing more in. When they got to the bouncer, he gave them both a once-over before letting them in. For once, Daizi was not the source of the second glance. It was Ciara who got a confused double-take, but the bouncer, a professional, said nothing. Ciara warned Daizi of the stairs, and they descended downward into the basement area.

In structure, the club bore a strong resemblance to a speakeasy, but with a low stage at the center of attention. The bar was off to one side, and while well stocked, clearly not the focus of the room. A tiny kitchen in the back offered a short menu of easy to eat items. Bold, avant-garde pictures and several posters hung on the brick walls, surrounding the multiple small tables that could fit four chairs at most. No one was on the stage at the moment, and a soft hum of conversation filled the air.

"What is your prefered seating?" Ciara asked Daizi, guiding her off to one side so they were out of the way of the door, but able to discuss where to sit.