Friends
Slowly sounds and smells creep into Tabitha’s consciousness. She feels warm, cocooned, safe and protected. The smell becomes stronger and stronger, a good smell, a good quality smell, a smell powerful enough to make you open one eye, and peek. She looks at the wallpaper, the yellow stripy bedspread… Tabitha opens both eyes, closes them again as the light is way too bright. Squinting, she looks round to locate the wonderful smell…ah! Her coffee. Lovingly provided by her sweet husband.
She drags herself into a sitting position, slowly, her pulse banging a arrhythmic rhythm in her head, like a third rate nightclub gone bad. She groans quietly, shuffles and snuggles until she is comfortable, and reaches for her coffee. “Mmmm, bliss! Just what I needed!” she sighs, contentedly. “I know this headache is mainly self-inflicted, but even so…nothing like a good, strong coffee to cure everything.” She pulls a face at that, when her words register with her half sleeping brain. A cure for everything that is but Llama Flu.
She sniffs the coffee, hugging the mug, looking round at the wallpaper of the Granny Annexe, where she and Richard are now living. Seeing that they will probably just meander through life, no children, no traits in Richard’s case, just plain boring old couple, so why not put the in the Granny Annexe already? She can feel the tears, but manages to swallow them down with some more coffee. Looking at the coffee she remember the little Dutch tile on her friend’s house: “A man must be as coffee, Good, Strong and Warm” it said. She smiles, too true!
Thinking of friends makes her think of the previous night. What a night it was! She had dreaded it, worried about it, fretted over it, until she was exhausted before the party even started! The worst thing was, she and Richard were expecting a message from the Hospital Specialist at moment, which made it very hard to concentrate. She did enjoy her gorgeous dress though, with beautiful necklace complementing her eyes. She had fussed, and kept looking at herself, until she thought of her friend quoting that beautiful song by Eric Clapton, called Beautiful Tonight.
It was so true, she smiles at the memory, they were like that last night, wondering if she looked alright. Richard smiling, saying it was fine… Knowing it could be one of the last parties to go to ever made it extra special. Knowing that the handsome husband at her side might never be at her side again made her fuss, she admits. She was so worried, not just about how she looked, but that she would do him proud. Richard was feeling terribly unwell, but was determined to make it to the party. He was wearing a tux, looking as strong and handsome as ever. She wanted him to be proud of her, to feel that he could show her off a bit, to have a grand party, just in case it was his last!
How she struggled though! People arrived soon after everything was set up, the cake and huge flowers in the foyer. They took some pictures of the two of them, as well as of Chris and Victoria. She loved Victoria’s gown, white with bits of pink. Victoria looked stunning, and well put together. She sighed, and remembered how hard it had been even then in the foyer, before the party had even started, to not cry. She had felt so jealous! Grumpy Chris, married to stunning Victoria, both healthy young people, probably ready to have a honeymoon baby. Standing next to her and Richard, who might not live long enough to see the end of the honeymoon, and who would never be able to give her a honeymoon baby. Any baby for that matter, not even an adopted one. Tears come then, in spite of the comfort of her soft bed and hot coffee.
She remembers her brave smile, and Richard’s strong arm round her. That helped, and by the time the first guests arrived she was ready for them. She blushes a little then, thinking of how wild she had been at the chess set. What had she been thinking, explaining a game in such a ridiculous way! How embarrassing, what with some very distinguished guests, like Greta Garbo around! Never mind, better than hiding in the bathroom, like she did later that evening… She just needed the break, the music and happy chatter getting to her. She had looked into the gold star mirror, and cried and cried…
Her mum, Adrianna had found her there, and she had poured out her heart to her mum, which really helped. They chatted a while, and she had rejoiced the party. She feels herself relaxing as she remembers one of the guests. Very beautify, and wearing lovely clothes, she was also named Victoria, very confusing that was, Victoria McDonnell. She had been so sweet and kind to her! She had found her in the main bedroom, having a secret peek at the bassinet, and of course, Victoria knew about Richard, about the Llama Flu. Rather than brush it off, or trying to cheer her up with well meaning platitudes, she had really listened to her. She had comforted her, just by being there, and by looking her straight in the eye, listening, nodding, Victoria’s face mirroring hers.
“Wow, she was so kind and amazing,” breathes Tabitha, “I wonder when I will see her next…” for one awful moment the word ‘funeral’ trails through her brain. No, she won’t allow that thought! No, she has to keep hold of hope, grasping it with both hands, cherishing it like this hot mug of coffee. That is one of the things Victoria counselled her to do, to not give up hope, rather than live her life grieving something that may not even happen!
The party had actually been pretty good fun, she smiles, breathing in the smell of coffee; great fun in fact. Many details seem a bit fuzzy, probably to do with the drinks fountain, but she remembers the overall atmosphere. Every now and then she caught sight of Richard, smiling, chatting to people. Only she could tell that he really wasn’t feeling well. Once she saw him sitting on one of the little round cushions they had won, and oh dear, he looked so very, very sad. She thought her heart might break! Her sweet darling husband, looking like a broken man, a drowning man, a man without any hope.
She had quickly left the room, gone to chat outside the kitchen wall, to…well, she can’t even remember now! Kiera, I think her name was, she mumbles, Kiera something. I probably remember her, blue hair, short top, bit of a live wire… Glad I’m married to Richard, and even gladder that he has no interest in females at this time! In fact, scanning in her mind’s eye through the guests that were there last night, she can actually think of some blessings to count on that score…! Mind you, they were amazing friends though! Bristol had chatted with her a lot, in fact, they became quite good friends in just one evening! Vivien Leigh came to mid, she was so kind! “I can’t believe it,” she says to herself, with awe in her voice, “she is an amazing looking woman, yet she spent a lot of time with Mum that evening! She really cheered her up, Mum said she had been so kind and understanding, haha, even Mum couldn’t believe it!”
She giggles to herself as she thinks back to the time when she’d come out of the Granny Annexe, eyes still a bit tender from all the tears, to find Richard dancing with some girls! Hilarious! She actually laughs out loud, nearly spilling her coffee, as she tries to imitate some of the dance moves used…Honestly, there should be a proper dace academy in Sims Mobile! Any self respecting town, with so many parties as well, should have some top notch dance teachers! That dancefloor is great, but the dancing…!
Her hilarity ebbs away though, as another memory from the dancefloor comes to mind… The microphone had been placed on the dancefloor, to help any impromptu DJs, or singers or whatever. This time the memory is one of herself, holding the microphone, singing, her voice sounding hoarse and choked up, rasping out, ‘Who Wants to Live Forever?’, desperately trying to not break down. Truth is, she does! Or rather, she and Richard do. Maybe not forever, but just to live a normal life, just them two together, to love, to hold, to cherish…to have a family, and to live a full and rich life!
“Heaven will be forever,” she sighs, “I know that, but this life? I wanted to make this life count too, Lord. Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to be sad when life is slipping away from my sweetheart? Is it wrong to want to hold onto him just that bit longer, and to live, not forever of course, but to live to a good, ripe old age?” She knows it’s not wrong, of course it’s not. Her desperation and fierceness and demanding health and life and strength? Mmm, that might be different matter…
She pulls a face, yes, I know I’m a desperate woman, who is ambitious and probably demanding as well. I know I take things to heart. She feels her face grow warm as she remembered how a good part of the Wedding Reception she had been standing in the kitchen, staring at the highchair, working herself up into a state! Oh dear, I am a bit silly, she grimaces, I do need to practise a bit more self control I think.
Mind you, one of the guests, Ginamarie could do with some as well, the way she and some of the other girls behave…or Tyler for that matter… She pushes all guilty feelings away, “I know I’m being judgmental, but seriously, some of them go too far,” she says defensively. “They play with lives of others, and they play hard, I have never seen people more competitive than that lot last night!” she says, remembering them playing a game together. Richard was there, laughing, and seemingly totally relaxed. Actually, it had been quite funny, she thinks, softening, memories marching past her one by one.
The party had finished very late, but all of the Mortinas had managed to make it till the end, even Richard. She laughs, as she remembers the end of the party: they were all standing in the foyer together, waving and yawning rudely at the same time! Good grief, what would their friends think! Especially as some were so well to do…
The party had been better than she had expected, really. Having her friends round, all dressed in wonderful style, was such a comfort. It had helped to divert them a bit as well, although she knew that Richard kept checking his phone, hoping, praying the specialist would contact him, and give him some hope. By the time they crawled into bed in the Annexe there was still no message, nothing. She wondered if that was a good sign or a bad sign?
Her friends had all assured her they were thinking of them, that they were empathising with them, and all of them said how sad they were, and how they hoped some help could be found. Tabitha stares at the divider at the end of her bed, and wonders where Richard is. He obviously made the coffee, so he must be around somewhere. She goes quiet, and then she can hear him. He is on the phone! Is it the doctor, what’s his name, Dr Dean? Will there be hope? Is the man just bringing more bad news, even though she can’t imagine what else could go wrong. Apart from the very worst that is, but she just cannot bring herself to go there, praying fervently that it will not come to that. When will they know? Come on, Richard, how long can a phone call take?!