How Green Becomes Wood

"Well, I'm sorry, but they were," Sally said stiffly. "Your husband is dangerously handsome, I mean it. I have no intention of ever stepping a toe over the line, but good gracious!" She sighed and shook her head. "Truthfully, anything less than what he has would be under your league, but good gracious."
 
Daizi grinned, sitting back on the couch, "I can't deny it, I have the finest man alive. And it's been a long time since I've shared." She laughed again, "But show some decorum, I was beginning to think I'd have to flirt with Jack just out of principle."
 
Sally gave a startled laugh. "I honestly do not know how he would react if you did. I should hope he'd be flattered, but not reciprocate. Gracefully, of course. I do apologize for my reactions. I have no excuse beyond, what was it Peter called? Yes, 'Lizard brain.'"
 
"The only thing I miss about not being married to the single most attractive man alive is not getting to flirt at will with just about anyone I come across," Daizi sighed, "I got into so much trouble. It was so much fun." Leaning forward to pick up her tea cup she said, "You're lucky I'm not the jealous type, you know."
 
"Ture. Very true. If you were, you would be hip-deep in bodies, I'd imagine," Sally said dryly as she picked up her own cup. "Not to mention the fact that anyone with the willingness to see and hear would be able to tell just how pointless it would be to pursue either of you. Not with how you are with each other."
 
"I've definitely played my harp since Christmas," Daizi said, tipping her head back, "I try with the loom, but it doesn't... I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm almost getting somewhere, but often it frustrates me enough into stopping. I really want to enjoy it, but it's difficult a lot of the time."
 
"I understand that. And I imagine it is difficult to devote enough time to it in order for it to become easier, which would then make it more enjoyable," Sally mused. "Ah, well, at least it was something you were able to experience!"
 
"It's just hard for me to keep track of the different yarns," She said, "It's one of those things where I know if I just sit down and start focusing on it, I could learn, but the learning process can be so frustrating that I'd rather spend time doing things I already enjoy, because I don't have that much free time."
 
"It doesn't take up a lot of space, so I'll probably save it," Daizi answered, taking a sip of tea, "I've only been a mother... at least to... for a few years. I'm not ready to just get rid of the gifts my children have given me, although I'm sure at some point I'll have things from them that are so old and worn out I'll have no choice."
 
"Soon, you'll have so many more things from your little toddler," Sally said softly. "I still have things from when Peter was that age. It is hard to get rid of things. You will have to... eventually. Whenever you decide that eventually is."
 
Daizi smiled softly, trying to imagine it. Pensively running her thumb along the lip of her cup, she said, "About half the time, whenever I'm with Ivy I'm still so amazed she exists. That she's right there in the world, growing and laughing. She's a year and a half, but I'm still... The other half of the time, I'm not surprised at all. I hope I'm always a little bit amazed."
 
"I'm amazed by Alec and Xander too, of course," Daizi said hastily, "but it's a different sort of amazement. They've become completely different children in the time since we've brought them home, and it feels like longer than it is. The other day Dark made a comment about how Xander has been running his leather buisness for three years, but they haven't even lived with us that long. They just feel so natural here, it feels like they've been here forever... but it's still different, because with Ivy, I used to lie awake at night listening to the sounds of her shallow, sometimes struggling, breathing, and the machinery she was attached to, and I would just pray that she'd live, feeling practically eaten alive by guilt about having her too soon. And before that it was right eight months of praying she'd live long enough to be born."

Since the weather was good, they had windows open, and the breeze carried with it the sounds of Ivy playing with her father and turning her head to listen it, "I don't know how she came from me. After everything, I don't know how I managed to create someone like her. She's not the least bit sickly, or... And she can see."
 
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