"Hon," I finally snapped, "You need to cut it out. Dad wouldn't've wanted you to be crying over him for a month, unable to cope. I miss him too. But we need to get our lives back on track."
"You don't understand," he wailed, "He was my parent throughout all! Through thick and thin! I love him so much!" He then curled up in a ball on the couch, whimpering.
Don't get me wrong-I was a complete mess too for the first few weeks. But then, slowly, I helped myself recover. I visited King's grave, laying down flowers, coffee beans, anything that reminded me of him. I would talk to him for an hour or two before returning home. Prince refused to go with me on any of theses trips and instead moped at home.
But enough was enough. I finally sat him down so we could talk face to face. "What is it?" He mumbled, rubbing sleeping dust out of his eyes. Aw, muffin, did someone take a nap while Cinderella had to deal with eight different piles of paperwork?
"Prince, you need to get over it. Or try to, at least. Pull yourself together! You realize that now, you are the king? You have responsibilities, priorities!" I said. I still hadn't showed him the note that King had written. If I did, Prince would probably have a meltdown all over again.
"Cinderella, my dad died," he blubbered, choking on the last word.
I sighed. "Our children are worrying about you. Can you at least put on a smile for them?"
Prince nodded sadly. "But don't act like I'm the only one," Prince added, walking away, "I caught you crying on the staircase."
"Well it's not like I'm heartless!" I yelled after him.
To my relief, Prince seemed to listen to me as he calmed down and cried less. My kids noticed, too, and they talked to him more. I even walked in on a conversation between Andy and Prince about-you guessed it-Jessie.
"Dad?" Andy said tentatively.
"Yes, Andy?"
"It's... about Jessie," Andy said, even more cautiously.
"What about Jessie?"
"Well, I noticed that you and mom stopped trying to make potions for her," Andy rushed quickly, "And I wanted to ask you if you would give me permission to use the chemistry table."
"Absolutely not," Prince said firmly, "Your mother blew the potions up twice and she's an adult. Under no circumstance will I have my young son trying to make some concoction for his toy doll."
By the strained look on Andy's face, I knew that that was the wrong thing to say. "Dad," Andy said with a sigh, "I love mom and all, but I honestly just think she's not a science person. I could do better. And Jessie isn't a 'toy doll'. She's real."
"Oh, yeah?" Prince said with a laugh, and I knew he had enough. Out of all of our family members, Prince had been the only one not to believe his firstborn regarding his friend. "Prove it."
Andy sighed in frustration. "Dad, I'm trying to! With the potion! I'm not sure what else to say! She has blue button eyes, green cheeks, pink gloves... her left shoe is blue and her right is green!? I'm sorry dad, but the only way I can prove that she's real is by making the potion."
"For the last time," Prince said, "You are not to touch the chemistry table."
Andy glared at Prince for a long time. "WHY! WHY NOT!" He finally screamed, stamping his foot.
"BECAUSE YOU'LL BLOW YOURSELF UP!" Prince yelled back, pushing his chair back as he leapt up. "Don't ask again!"
"WHY NOT!" Andy taunted.
"Go to your room, young man," Prince warned.
"No!"
"GO TO YOUR ROOM OR I AM THROWING OUT YOUR STUPID DOLL," Prince commanded.
Andy stood, livid, tears streaming down his cheeks. "FINE! I HATE YOU!" He screeched, running out of the room. My poor boy.
Andy stayed true to his word and never touched the chemistry set. He also didn't talk to Prince. "You should apologize to your son," I told Prince as another day went by without them talking to each other.
"Apologize to him?! Are you crazy? We're not friends, Cinderella. He needs to learn how to treat me with respect as his father," Prince argued.
I was getting nowhere. Suddenly, I heard a screech from the kids' room. I bolted inside to find Buzz standing up shakily on his legs, faints sparkles emitting from him.
"Oh! My darling is finally aging up!" I squealed happily.
The door slammed behind me as Andy raced into the room. "Buzz!" He cried happily, running to watch the spectacle. "I bet he'll be super strong!"
"I don't think it works like that," I said with a chuckle. I was just sad that Buzz hadn't aged up with cake. It was probably fairly uncomfortable for him to experience such a large maturing stage.
A few moments later, Buzz appeared as a proper child. He was only in a pair of blue boxers. He grinned suggestively at no one in particular, enjoying his moment of spotlight in the sparkles. Whew, boy. I could tell that he would be a real 'lady killer'.
I heard a squeal and turned around to see my little girl Sandy screaming excitedly. I realized that she was going to age up, too. I let the image of her as a toddler soak in, knowing it would be the last time I saw her as one.
Sandy stood up slowly, wobbling. She took one step... small lights popped out from inside of her...
One more step, a few more sparkles...
Sandy let out a yelp and flew up, stretching as the sparkles engulfed her.
A flash of light, and my little girl was standing before me in a cloud of rainbow sparkles. She was wearing yellow pajamas that were slightly ratty looking.
When the sparkles faded away, all I could see was me when I was younger. Except for her eyes. Sandy's eyes were darker than mine are, but the rest of her? She looked just like I did.
There was a sudden 'poof' and Jessie appeared next to Sandy! Sandy let out scream of fright and clutched her bladder as she urinated herself.
"Oh, darling," I said as Sandy started whimpering.
"Mommy," she said sadly, a tear running down her cheek, "I'm sorry!"
"Nothing to be sorry, for, darling, it was an accident," I soothed her, "Now let's get you into a fresh pair of pajamas and do your hair, alright?"
"Okay, mommy," Sandy agreed, clasping my hand in hers. I could see the dark stain on her pant leg where she peed herself.
All was well in the house. I showed Sandy her nightie that I bought her, and she told me she would get changed into it herself! I was a little sad realizing that Sandy was embarrassed, but she was growing up, after all. I did her hair up in cute braids with big pink beads, leaving her bangs alone.
When I came back into the kids' room, I found Sandy mopping the floor.
"Sandy!" I cried, snatching the Swiffer away, "Why are you doing that?"
"I was cleaning the pee, mommy," Sandy said meekly in obvious confusion.
"Sandy," I said with a sigh, "Next time, just tell mommy, okay? I don't want you to grow up mopping the floor and cleaning." I recalled my own childhood and shivered.
After I changed Buzz into his normal attire, he raced downstairs, full of energy. "Sandy!" I heard him yell giddily, "Play rock, paper, scissors with me!"
I trailed down the stairs to find them in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. "Ready?" Buzz said, hands at the ready.
"Rock, paper, scissors!" They said in unison. Sandy used paper, Buzz used scissors.
"I win!" Buzz said triumphantly. Sandy won the next two games.
"Rock, paper, dinosaur!" Buzz said, leaping at Sandy with a snarl.
"Eep! Buzz, don't do that! You frightened me!" Sandy cried.
Just as I was about to scold Buzz, they started up another game. "Rock, paper, BOOGEY-MAN!" Sandy bellowed, clawing at Buzz. Buzz let out a girly scream and jumped back.
I started laughing and they looked over at me. "That's what you get, Buzz! Don't mess with ladies!"
Buzz grinned innocently at me and gave his sister a quick hug before darting away. That boy... I just knew that he was going to get into all sorts of trouble.
A few days later, I accidentally walked in on Sandy bathing. She was holding a toy periscope. She glanced over at me in fright and sunk down into the bathwater, turning away from me. "Mommy!" She cried, clearly embarrassed, "I'm naked!"
I laughed. "So? We both have the same bodies, darling," I chuckled, "I've seen it all before."
She stuck her bottom lip out. "I guess."
I was a little hurt and very confused. I knew that eventually kids didn't want their parents to see them naked, but wasn't six and a half a little young?
A little while later, I went to the kids' room to inform my boys that the new bed had arrived, so they needed to carry it upstairs and put it in the room. To my surprise, I found Buzz holding Andy by the shoulders, asking him what was wrong. I closed the door that I had just opened and peered through the crack. It was wrong to eavesdrop and spy on my children, but the same curiosity which had gotten me in trouble so many time got the better of me. I put my eye to the door.
"It's dad," Andy admitted. "I'm worried. He always tells me that he's never going to get over grandpa dying and that he's disappointed that we aren't more sad."
Oh, for the love of... That was ridiculous. What was Prince thinking?
"Dee, I think it's mainly his sadness talking," Buzz said with a sigh. "He doesn't really mean it. And you are sad. You are grieving. There's no reason to feel guilty."
"How did you learn that word?" Andy asked in confusion.
"Which one? Grieving? Or guilty?"
"Both."
"Well mommy told me that daddy and her were grieving and she told me what it meant. Guilty is what daddy taught me when I asked why mommy was treating everyone really good after she went away for awhile."
'Went away for awhile.' That's what it was? Well, it was better than Prince telling them what I really did when I cheated on him.
"Just cheer up, okay, Dee? There's nothing you can do about dad. It's his problem," Buzz said with a sigh. Aw. That was so sweet of him. I decided it was time for me to intervene.
I banged open the door noisily and gave the boys a smile. "The new bed's here! Want to come downstairs and help us bring it up?"
"YEAH!" They cried out in unison, almost knocking me over as they sprinted downstairs.
Not that much later, we had the bunk bed set up, and had hauled away the old bed and cribs. Bonehilda, who was surprisingly powerful, had pretty much lifted the entire bed by herself.
"Thanks, Hilda," I said, nodding my head to her. She nodded back to me and left the room. "Boys, get ready for bed now," I chided as they nattered away to each other.
"I call top bunk!" Andy said, jumping over to the dresser and rooting through the drawers for his pajamas.
I check on the boys a little while later. Andy was climbing up the ladder to his top bunk. Buzz was fidgeting around. "Buzz, love, get in your jammies," I said.
"But mooommmm," he whined.
"Now!"
"But the monsters are under my bed!"
"Do you want daddy to check for them?" I asked with a sigh.
"No, I can check," Buzz said. Oh, deary, was this a déja vu or what?
"Mommy, mommy, mommy! Monsters!" Buzz said, panicking. His facial expression was calm, but he sprinted to me with all of his might.
"Oh, hun," I said, pulling him into a hug.
Buzz gave me puppy dog eyes. "Can I sleep in your bed?"
I sighed. Buzz kicked in his sleep. I glanced up at Andy, who was lying down under the covers, pretending to sleep. "Andy, darling, please... Can you sleep in the bottom bunk?"
Andy exhaled. "No, mom, please I want to sleep on the top bunk!"
"Andy, it is for one nigh. Sleep on the bottom bunk."
"Andy, it is for one nigh. Sleep on the bottom bunk."
"FINE!"
Andy scampered in the bottom bunk with annoyance, fuming. "Goodnight, sweetheart," I whispered, kissing his forehead. He turned away from me. "Change into your pajamas now, Buzz," I said, leaving them alone. After he was done changing, I came back in to give Buzz a goodnight kiss. "Nightie, night," I said, kissing his cheeks before he could climb up the ladder.
"Aw, ma," he said, struggling out of my embrace, "Yuck."
"Yuck? Thanks a lot," I joked, shaking my head. I glanced over at Andy, but he was fast asleep.
"Mommy?" I turned to see Sandy waiting shyly at the door for me. "Tuck me in?" I took her hand and brought her to her new bedroom-King's old bedroom. She was so tired that she didn't mind me helping her change into her nightie. "Mommy?" She said again, "I don't like sleeping in grampa's room. I miss him."
My lip quivered pitifully. "It's okay, sweetheart," I said softly, tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead, "His ghost will protect you."
She stared at me, wide-eyed. "Ghost?"
Damn it. I was such an idiot. How was I supposed to get out of this one. "Yes, darling, his ghost," I sighed. What else was I supposed to say?
"Okay, mommy! I feel better now!" She said, snuggling down under her covers. For a moment, I thought that she was being sarcastic.
Some weeks later, I decided that it was time to give Prince the letter. When I did, he didn't even look at it. "Later," he said with annoyance. I knew that he didn't want to break down in front of me, after the promise he made. I decided to persuade him by breaking my own promise not to fiddle with the chemistry set. After unsuccessfully creating the potion, I crawled into bed, covered in ashes, pretending to sleep. This way, Prince would know what I had done.
When Prince saw me, he let out a tutting noise and muttered, "Typical! Breaking her promise!" But moments later, I heard the shifting of paper, and knew that my plan had worked. I peeked my eye open to watch him read the letter. By the time he finished and was on the last page, he was a mess.
"Oh, dad!" he sobbed, clutching his chest, "I miss you so much! I wish I could've talked to you before you died!"
He cried for another hour before crawling into bed next to me, whimpering softly. At least now, I knew that he would grieve and rejoice at the same time.
Prince started doing things again. He wrote a little, cooked, cleaned, and talked to his children. He even apologized to Andy.
"So how did it happen?" I asked Andy curiously.
"Well, I saw him clutching his chest, like this," Andy said, demonstrating Prince's actions, "And I asked him what was wrong. And then he hugged me and cried into my hair and said over and over again how sorry he was and would I forgive him. I did, of course."
One thing I did notice, however, was that Prince never changed out of his boxers. He stayed in them forever and ever. The only way I could finally get him to agree to let me wash them was by making love with him. We hadn't done it in a few months. As soon as I was done washing them, though, Prince threw them back on and went upstairs.
"Prince!" I yelled in annoyance, "What're you doing?"
"Playing Foosball," he replied, "We've always had this table but I've barely used it."
The next morning I walked downstairs to see Prince tapping away at his computer. "Hey, babe," he said, barely glancing up at me.
I swear, there is something extremely sexy about seeing your muscly, half naked husband typing on the computer. "Hello, sweetheart," I replied, grabbing a box of pancake mix.
We were silent as I prepared the pancakes. I got the feeling that Prince wanted to tell me something.
When I was done, I sat down next to Prince with my pancakes and started shoveling them into my mouth.
"Sweetheart?" Prince said. I glanced over at him. I noticed that his eyes were faintly pink, as if he had just been crying. "Can you stop dying your hair? Dad liked your blond hair better. I like your blond hair better. Dad would've wanted you to keep your hair natural."
"Okay," I said, and resumed my eating. I had wanted to stop dying my hair for a while now. But now I had an excuse. And I knew. I knew that Prince was done grieving, and I knew that my quarter-life crisis was over.
At last, it was all over.
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