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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 21, 2007 0:54:00 GMT -4
Emma nodded slowly in understanding, the meaning strong behind her icy eyes as she acknowledged her husband.
We need to talk, love.
Looking down at her daughter, Emma carefully said, “See, I told you he’d love your artistic talent. Now, why don’t you scamper yourself over to that table over there and draw me another picture of Mr. Fuzzy.”
She pointed to the table in the far corner, vacant of chemicals or paperwork.
“Mommy would love to see him in more detail. You can use a couple pieces of Daddy’s printer paper.”
Callie smiled willingly and bounded off to the table, leaving Emma and Henry time to talk about their Adult Business.
“Henry, I… I don’t know what to think,” she admitted finally, the weakness showing in her gaze as she stood millimeters from her husband, trying to keep her voice low.
[[OOC: Thank you, Callie for letting me NPC the little tyke.]]
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 21, 2007 1:14:51 GMT -4
Henry kept his voice low, too.
"I thought you had taken care of this problem", he said softly. Although what he said was insensitive there wasn't any blame in how he said it. Mr. Fuzzy was more Emma's obsession than his.
In matters of the human psyche he was more than happy to admit she was superior. She was also superior in a number of ways he would never admit publicly. But if Emma had a concern, then Henry knew she had a reason. Even if he had trouble shaking the notion that an imaginary friend wasn't all that abnormal.
It made him wonder if she wasn't pushing a little too hard for Callie's mental perfection. Or that admitting that she couldn't fix it was too much for Emma to endure. Whatever torment Callie had seen might be too much to take it all away.
"I'm sure it will be fine", he said, and caressed her arms with his oversized blue hands. Silently, he hoped he was right.
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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 21, 2007 1:24:21 GMT -4
Emma shrugged her shoulders in frustration, trying to find comfort in his touch.
“No matter what I do, Henry, it’s like he keeps coming back!” her voice broke with the last word. “If it was a normal case, wouldn’t she just make up another, different imaginary friend?”
Emma shifted her weight from foot-to-foot and then stood still again.
“It’s almost like she has some reminder…”
She hated to say it.
“Almost like Mister Fuzzy is real.” She cringed at the words, “But then I realized. Mr. Fuzzy, Henry. What if her reminder is you?”
“I mean, really. We don’t know what her real father was like. And now that she has you… maybe there’s something manifesting in her mind. A mixture of her trying to cope and the people helping her?”
She sighed deeply, “I have no idea. I’m at a loss, Henry.”
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 21, 2007 8:26:26 GMT -4
Henry sighed. Somehow it always came back to him. First he wasn't around enough, now he's responsible for his daughter's deep-seated hallucinations.
"Emma", he said softly, choosing a different reply than the one racing through his mind. He pressed his lips gently against her forehead. "Half the people she knows are fuzzy. Look at Kyle...."
He hadn't meant to, but he said it louder than he intended. Henry shot a guilty glance at the doorway. No indication if Kyle had heard.
"...and that guy on TV....", he continued reasonably.
He winced a little behind his comforting smile. This was an argument they had been through before. Emma was just as devoted to her work as Henry was. Henry thought Callie needed to get out more. Away from the TV as the babysitter. To socialize.
And no matter how he said it, it always came off like he was blaming his wife.
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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 21, 2007 12:28:09 GMT -4
Emma knew where this was going, and she stood patiently waiting for Henry to finish. She wasn’t angry with him, it was only that she didn’t know who else to consult about the Fuzzy Man.
“That’s entirely possible, love. I didn’t mean…” she began, slightly anxious, “I just went with one of the most probable scenarios.”
Stepping away from him, she paced to the table where Henry had been working, and leaned over onto it, supporting herself on her hands. She didn’t want to argue again. Emma loved her husband, and she never tried to sound accusatory. And then he would go accusing. And then they’d argue….
“I wasn’t pointing fingers,” she shut her eyes. It was apparent that this problem had been a heavy struggle for quite some time.
“All I want to find is an explanation so I can fix this.”
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 22, 2007 9:28:17 GMT -4
"And you will...we will...", he said in a more comforting tone. He pulled Emma closer to him and peered at his daughter.
"It just may take some time", Henry said.
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Post by Callie on Jun 22, 2007 10:17:51 GMT -4
"Daddy, you don't have enough different colours." Callie announced as she came back carrying a piece of paper "You should get more pencils in." she nodded seriously, then grinned.
"Whatcha talking about?" she asked impishly, though her tone was light, she was quite curious - every child knew that when you were sent away, parents were talking about Important Things or Mushy Grown Up Things. She wanted to know which it was.
Of course, at the same time, she was fairly sure she wouldn't get told, but it was worth a try.
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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 22, 2007 12:57:41 GMT -4
Time was an element Emma didn’t have enough of. She handed it out like it was party balloons until she, herself, was about to burst with the pressure. Time, everything took time. Too much time. She barely had enough to stay with her daughter… and…
“Oh yes,” she whispered to herself as Callie came wandering over to her parents, paper in hand, to ask about the topic of their oh-so-secretive conversation.
Leaning in to Henry’s embrace, Emma placed a delicate hand on his furry chest, the cogs in her mind whirring. Seeing the child’s curiosity and thinking about their busy schedules had reminded her of a subject she’d needed to mention to her husband. One that she’d meant to talk to Callie about as well when she came into her daughter’s room.
“Callie wandered off yesterday,” she said offhandedly. “While we were both working. Princess Katherine found her in the maze outside.”
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 22, 2007 18:12:16 GMT -4
Henry's expression grew darker. He forced it away as he answered his little girl. "Important Things", he replied. "Mushy Grown Up Things." Both barrels ought to keep her busy for a little while. At least he hoped so.
"At least it was Katherine", he replied softly to Emma. He only sounded marginally comforted by that.
Henry let out a sigh. "I will try to get away more", he said. He did it in a way that combined both guilt and a tone of disbelief in being able to live up to it. There was so much to do. And so much of it he had to do himself.
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Post by Callie on Jun 22, 2007 18:23:17 GMT -4
Callie pulled a face at the answer she got from her father. Foiled again, how was she supposed to work out if she needed to sneak an earful if he wasn't going to tell her which it was?
One she wanted to know, the other she definitely didn't.
She did catch her mother's words through her deliberations though, and she shot a quick, worried glance up at her parents.
Right, good, nobody seemed specifically mad at her for it, yet, but she was ready to bolt if it seemed like they were going to.
Keeping half an eye on them in case of Evil Parental Glaring, she muddled her way through the idea of their conversation being both Important and Mushy.
Which was the red herring, really...
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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 22, 2007 19:03:00 GMT -4
Unsatisfied with his reply, Emma pressed on, “Henry, you and I both know that neither of us can get away from our work long enough to keep a suitable eye on Clarissa.”
She shifted in his grasp, and tried as best as she could to appear amiable. She wasn’t accusing anyone this time either, it was simply the truth.
“Maybe…” she paused in thought, her brow furrowed as she looked down at her daughter who was obviously trying to gauge the conversation at hand. “What if we could find someone to watch her while we work? We could still try to spend as much time as we could together, as a family… but life wouldn’t be so stressful either.”
Kneeling down to Callie’s level, Emma smiled serenely, “What do you think, baby? Would you like to have a babysitter to play with instead of watching the Tele all the time?”
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 22, 2007 19:34:39 GMT -4
Henry started to protest that the odds of finding a babysitter they both could agree was trustworthy seemed somewhat unlikely when Emma trumped any argument he might pose before he could answer and asked Clarissa her opinion first.
Two against one, my love... Not fair.
With little choice, Henry awaited the inevitable response.
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Post by Callie on Jun 22, 2007 19:41:51 GMT -4
Callie was drawn from her internal debate when her mother crouched down to ask her opinion on matters.
Well that was new.
She pursed her lips in thought "...Someone nice?" she asked seriously "It has to be someone nice, someone like Princess Katherine, she's very nice. Not her though, she's already got a job." she smiled, she'd very much taken to the youngest princess "As a princess." she added unnecessarily.
She paused again after that veritable speech, then finally nodded "Yes, as long as they're nice, I think I'd like that."
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Post by Emma Frost on Jun 22, 2007 19:50:26 GMT -4
Emma nodded, and then thought for a moment.
“What do you think, Henry?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him.
He’d fallen quiet since she’d suggested the idea. And she’d definitely heard some sort of mental discontentment come from him only moments before. He was so unhappy all the time. The dark looks that shown on his face at times worried her. She was his wife, wasn’t she? So, what was with the secretive behavior?
Emma really didn’t want to probe his mind. It was so cluttered. She always felt like she needed to shower afterward.
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Post by Hank McCoy on Jun 22, 2007 20:34:36 GMT -4
Henry rolled his eyes to look at Emma. There was a kind of quiet tension as they both waited for his reply that finally cracked the sour expression and brought a smile across his lips.
He really did love them both. Immensely.
And denying either one of them something they wanted was a game he lost before it ever started.
"IF...", he said with a sternness that couldn't suppress the grin. He followed it with a pointed index finger for emphasis. As if he really had a choice. "If we all agree on the babysitter."
He shot an amused glance at his wide-eyed daughter. "Nanny", he corrected, and mussed her violet hair between cat-like ears. "...or au pair. For our little Callie is no longer a baby."
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