My favourite day of the week is any that I get off so I can spend time with my girls. Last week, my plans to have some bonding time with Martha backfired spectacularly and while we hadn't made up fully, I still asked her to come and hang out with me and Sera today.
Lottie has gone to a meeting with that American Idiot, which leaves me on Daddy duties. I can't complain, though. I'd spent all day yesterday planning what Sera and I were going to do today; Martha would have to go along with whatever I chose to do but being the amazing parent that I am, I did try to include an element of something Martha would like.
Our plan, then, was to take Sera to the park for a while, maybe take a stroll around the zoo, seeing as Lottie had abandoned us for the day, and then after, we'll head to La Petite for some warm drinks and a éclair before I took Martha to Harrods. I overheard her telling Sophie on Sunday that she hadn't yet got a dress for the ball in a few week's time so I took it upon myself to text Sophie yesterday to ask for her fashion expertise, hoping that she might offer to come and give us a helping hand. True to form, Sophie jumped at the chance to come and meet us, going as far as to excitedly phone me to tell me exactly what look Martha should go for. I told her that I was just the money man, everything else would have to go through Martha.
Finally, after Harrods, we would come home, where Martha would keep an eye on Sera and I could make a head start on cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I wanted to experiment with a recipe that I remember my Greek grandmother make whenever we visited her as kids, thinking that Lottie might like it. To date, she hadn't tried anything Greek. I, meanwhile, had to eat frog's legs and snails not that long ago. Never again.
This plan, however, was dependent on a few things. Firstly, Martha had to actually get out of bed. She was too fond of sleeping late whenever she had a day off and my timings didn't have any leeway today. If we were supposed to have food on the table by seven tonight, we had to start the day by leaving the house at ten am sharp. Next, I needed Sera to settle enough after her feed so that we could actually get out the door. The smallest sign of her not wanting to go, I would abandon the morning plans altogether. Sera, like her mother, has a set of lungs on her and she was not afraid to use them. Lastly, this plan would never take off if I can't find my wallet. I'm supposed to be the money man today, I need all my bank cards.
"Hello?"
"Lottie, do you know where my wallet is?" I ask just as soon as Lottie answers my call. From her end, I hear a small giggle, followed by her informing me that it was beneath the couch in the family room. On my hands and knees- well, on one hand and both knees- I found my wallet exactly where Lottie said it would be. "Bingo. I honestly don't know what I would do without you, Lottie."
"Die an old miserable man?" She suggested harshly.
"Is that your boyfriend?" American Idiot's voice asked from the other end of the line.
Lottie laughed. "I don't think I'd quite refer to him as my boyfriend. He's my... partner?"
Biting down on my tongue to stop myself from commenting back, I thank Lottie for her help, tell her that I love her and then promise to see her when she gets home. On her request, I also promise to make sure that Sera doesn't die, not that I had any plans to let that happen.
After Sera took her feed without any cries, I sat and watched her be enthralled by her mobile, mulling Lottie's words around in my head. Why was it that her calling me her 'partner' infuriated me? Was there a reason she wouldn't call me her boyfriend? If I didn't like 'partner' and she didn't like 'boyfriend', how should she address me to others?
How did I introduce Lottie to the people that I know? I may have called her my girlfriend a few times, but I also called her 'my better half.' Granted, we were partners because we shared a life together, and we share a daughter, but it felt too formal and business-like to call her that. She's not my fiancée and she's not my wife, so what exactly does that make her?
"You look like you're trying to find the answer to World Peace," Martha's voice interrupts my thoughts. She was not only awake and up out of bed, but she was also dressed and ready to leave, bag slung over her body. "Or are you trying to cure cancer?"
I shake my head. "Neither. Am I Lottie's boyfriend or her partner, do you reckon?"
"No idea," Martha answers, her shoulders shrugging casually. "Don't really care, to be honest, so long as you don't break up. Why?"
I mutter 'never mind' and then make sure that Sera's bag is all packed before I transfer her from her bouncy into the pram. When I'm sure that we're ready, I nod to Martha for us to leave. The park and the zoo are close to the house and we're there in less than ten minutes. While Sera is busy watching the birds fly over us, Martha finally apologises for the attitude she gave me last week. She blames it on her having her period. I blamed it on her being a brat. She didn't disagree.
While we walked through the zoo, which was expensive to get into, I took the chance to probe Martha a little more about her relationship with Sam. She rolled her eyes when I called it a 'relationship.' She was still maintaining that they were employer-employee and at a push, they could be considered friends, but that was it. I called her a liar. She called me a twat.
"I don't think that's how daughters should treat their fathers," I joked as we neared the exit of the zoo and started to make our way to the tube station. "But really, Martha, could we just get serious for a minute? If anything does happen with you and Sam, please don't hide it from me. I won't be happy about it but I can live with that so long as you're happy. Don't you dare go behind my back. Got it?"
She nodded. "Got it, Dad. Now, can we go and scout of a dress for the Ball? I spied Charlotte's and now I'm worried that I'm going to look like an ugly sister next to her."
"An ugly sister?" I gasped, horrified by the idea. "Bindi, you'll never be an ugly sister. I mean, I'm your father and you've got half of my genes, so you'll never be ugly."
It took us half an hour to get to La Petite. Martha made a fuss about going there before dress shopping, something about being bloated, so I was the only one who really ate. Sera drank her next bottle while Lottie's staff cooed over her. I chose to ignore Aimee's comment about me being a DILF and instead started to obnoxiously talk about how amazing Lottie is and how she's the only woman for me. Martha rolled her eyes, sorted Sera out and then dragged me from the shop before Aimee could 'objectify' me even more.
Seeing as we hadn't spent as long as I was expecting to in La Petite, we were twenty minutes early for Harrods, which meant that Sophie wasn't here yet. Martha suggested we might want to look at some clothes for Sera since she's growing every day. Her first set of onesies didn't fit her anymore and the ones that she wore these days wouldn't fit her for long. I'd give it another hour, maximum, and she'll have outgrown them.
After we finished in the baby section, I think I've drained my bank account. Everything Martha picked up for Sera, I ended up buying because, and I quote, "She's going to look totally adorable in this, Dad. You have to get it."
"Did you shop without me?" Sophie asked the moment she set eyes on us and the hundreds of bags that weighed me down. A frown deepened between Sophie's eyebrows as she knitted them together. "You know, you can get those delivered, don't you? Let me find someone and I can have a courier bring them over to you tonight."
I watched as Sophie cornered a poor, defenceless young assistant and demanded that she find her boss, a woman named Eloise, and tell her to come and meet a client. When the woman arrived, Sophie greeted her like they were old friends- which they may be- and started to tell this Eloise woman exactly what she wanted. First on the list was for someone to come and take the bags. After that, Sophie needed to find a showstopping dress for her niece. Both Martha and I raised our eyebrows at that. Since when has Martha been Sophie's niece?
"It has to be an amazing gown but it also needs to be age appropriate," Sophie began to reel off her list of requirements to Eloise, all within earshot of Martha and myself. "Nothing sheer, no high slits but also, nothing too dowdy and that covers her from head to toe. Something sparkly, maybe, but nothing too gaudy. I want tasteful, not tasteless. If needs must, we can go fitted because Martha has a figure to die for. Please don't put her in anything by Jenny Packham or Marchesa. They're off limits. Do you have any Elie Saab? I always think it's good to start with him. Let's go. Hustle, people, we have a dress to find."
After that, I lost track of where the women all went. Sera and I were left to fend for ourselves until they came back, two extra assistants following them, hands filled with various gowns. Sophie led us to a waiting area within a larger room that looked as if it were a private dressing room.
"This is the private dressing room," Sophie whispered to me, almost like it was a massive secret. "No one knows that it's here. Only those of us with enough connections know to come here and ask for Eloise. She's the buyer and she knows exactly what people want. I think we're going to find a dress today."
Sophie spoke too soon. The moment Martha walked out of the inner dressing room, a deep red velvet gown on her, Sophie shook her head and gave a scathing critique of the look. Needless to say, we were not getting that dress. The second, third and fourth dresses didn't fare any better, either; somehow, they were worse than the first and the fifth dress didn't look promising if the pouted look Sophie gave was anything to go by. I have no idea who Miranda Priestly is but I'm going to trust Martha when she says that Sophie is acting exactly like her.
"Ok, this is the next," Martha warned us before she came out again. The curtains pulled open and Martha walked out, a pale lilac dress with layers upon layers of ruffles dwarfing her figure. Sophie nodded in appreciation while I turned my nose up at it. Martha caught my expression. "You don't like it?"
I shook my head. "No."
That was enough for Martha to scuttle back into her dressing room and change into the last dress she had to try on. Sophie glared daggers at me and muttered something about the fact that I wasn't in a position to give out fashion advice. I bit down on my tongue and didn't mention that this was a shirt that Dan had given me a few years back.
When the curtain opened for the last time and Martha stepped out, Sophie and I both gasped. This time, it was for all the right reasons. "What about this one?" Martha asked. "You better like it, otherwise I'm giving up trying to find a dress for the ball."
"It's perfect," I nodded, giving my seal of approval. "I don't even care how much it costs. That's the dress."
Sophie agreed. "Absolutely. Now I know what colour tie Sam will need to get. He did ask you to be his Plus One, right?" When Martha shakes her head, Sophie sighed heavily. "Do I have to do everything for that man? Martha, get the dress. Isaac, pay for the dress. Sera, come with me while Aunt Sophie goes to shout at Sammy. There's a good girl."
Any ideas how Sam and Martha's relationship is going to pan out? I've planted the seed.
So, I've been asked to participate in a writing showcase, of sorts, that is being hosted by .
I have to write a Christmas themed oneshot of 500-1000 words and I finally came up with an idea! As you know, I want to write about Mick and Lyanna and I have their story in the pipeline after Sam and Martha's. BUT for the oneshot, I'm going to write a short little story featuring them! Two people who don't get along, an office Christmas party, some mistletoe... what could go wrong? I'm sure you'll all want to see that, huh?! Once I have more information about my publishing date, I'll let you all know and you can go over there to check it out. (I'll also publish it as part of La Vie en Rose when I reach that point!)
I think that's about it.
Hasta Sunday, peeps!
Sarah xx