Thou Hast a Careful Father, Child

"Assume a virtue, if you have it not."

June 9th

The nurse had not exaggerated in the message she had sent to Adrian. Behind the door, the room was ringing with Frederick's wails. Wailing was not usually in Adrian's purview. If the nurse couldn't soothe Frederick, she went to Ann. It was only natural, Adrian believed, that a small child would be better comforted by his mother. It didn't hurt that the mother was Ann, either. Her warm touch was one of the first things that enthralled Adrian's heart when they were little themselves. Even if her warmth was now often paired with verbal kicks in the backside, it remained a marvel. Adrian didn't have a talent for warmth.

Laziness and procrastination, two of his main talents, wouldn't do anything for this situation either. Adrian had no intention of being a bad father, but he had let himself believe that Frederick didn't need him yet. It was the same philosophy he applied to every one of his father's attempts to make him take his position seriously. Adrian would be a good lord when the time came, he believed, but he didn't need to be now. He had decades to work himself up his father's standard.

As a husband and a father, however, Adrian's time had arrived. Ann had labored a whole day to bring Viviane into the world. She ought to have been resting. She wasn't. The wet nurse had quit, and they hadn't yet found a new one. Ann was nursing and soothing their tiny, fussy daughter herself. Ann's and Adrian's mothers were supporting her, but no-one could be a substitute for Viviane's own mother. No-one could be a substitute for Ann's husband or Frederick's father, either.

Stepping in, Adrian realized the situation was actually worse than he thought. Frederick was a bawling lump of misery on the floor. He kicked and writhed without rhyme or reason. Adrian knew how he felt. "What is the matter, scout?" If he could be heard over Frederick's screaming, it was a miracle. 

"Begging your pardon, m'lord," the nurse ventured, "but it's the new quarters that has him vexed, I know it."

Adrian muttered to himself, "Perfect." There was no moving Frederick back. Ann wanted her new daughter in the room next to hers, as she had wanted Frederick when he was a newborn. She and Adrian had agreed their son would like a room of his own - in fact, the traditional nursery that Ann said was too remote for a newborn - when he would be learning to share so much else. "Frederick," Adrian said more loudly as he knelt down, "Frederick, is your nurse correct? Do you not like your new nursery?"

"I want! I want mine! Mine," Frederick cried.

"It is yours."

"No!"

"Yes, it is."

"No! No! No! I want mine! I want mine!"

While Frederick continued to fuss, Adrian scooped him up off the floor. He noticed the nurse standing by, wringing her hands while her gaze bounded from Adrian to Frederick in a loop. "Go to my wife and see if she is feeling up to a short visit from her son." And it will be short, but he hasn't seen Ann in days. Maybe that's all he needs. "If she is, you may retire for the night. I'll put Frederick to bed myself."

"Yes, m'lord, right away. Thank you."

After the nurse left, Adrian spent a further ten minutes on bringing Frederick from loud to merely fussy. Holding the little boy tightly and rubbing his back as Ann had did when he was an infant helped. However, Adrian learned the hard way that making any move in the direction of the bed was a mistake. Frederick didn't want to be left alone in this room. "You don't like your room, scout?"

Frederick shook his head emphatically and pouted. "Not mine." 

A small idea sparked in Adrian's thoughts. He walked his son over toward his toy box. "Then these toys must belong to another child! No matter. Nurse can take away these toys in the morning."

"No! Mine!"

"But aren't Frederick's toys in Frederick's room? Isn't that where they always are?" Adrian moved toward his son's favorite toy: his ship. "What about the ship? Is this your ship?"

"My ship!"

"So, you have your toys, your ship, the chair you sit in to hear stories, your grown-up boy bed," Adrian said, pointing to each item in turn. "All your room is here, Frederick, just in a different place. It's all the same."

Frederick's eyes, the eyes he had inherited from Adrian, welled up. "No! Baby take! Baby take Mama! Fre'rick go! Go! Go!"

Dammit. 

"Do you see how much your grandmothers love you, Viviane? You are a lucky girl," Ann whispered to her daughter as her own mother left the room. "Just like your mother." Ann's mother had been at her side for several weeks, since the moment the midwife said the baby had not yet positioned herself correctly for birth. Viviane never righted herself. This labor had been much worse than the last, but all had turned out well. Still, having her mother nearby to keep her comfortable and do the little things, like fetching the baby when Ann thought next-door was too far, was a relief. 

When the harried nurse explained what Frederick had been like the last few days, Ann knew she and Adrian had erred. Ann had let herself believe she had all the time in the world to move Frederick to his new room. After the midwife's warning about Viviane's position, having Frederick next door had been one of Ann's few comforts. The nursery swap had been done at the last possible moment, after her labor had begun. Ann hadn't wanted to frighten Frederick with her unhealthy appearance afterward; this evening was the first time she had looked or felt anything like herself. Ann had planned to see her boy in the morning.

"You hear that, Viviane? That's your brother crying in your father's ear. Your father has never been very good with crying. One day, when your father is cross because you are making other boys cry for other reasons, I will use that and this moment against him. But, for now..." Ever so gently, Ann laid her daughter into the tiny cradle at the foot of the bed. 

The reunion proceeded just as Ann expected, with equal parts tears and hugs from her confused little boy. Explaining that the baby wasn't taking away his parents proved difficult. Without knowing it, Frederick equated being replaced in the nursery with being replaced in the family. Adrian's line of argument - that his sisters hadn't replaced him - held no water for his son.

Viviane, who was squirming in her cradle, gave Ann an idea. Difficult as it was, she carried her son to look at his sister. "Do you know who that is?"

"Baby."

"Yes, that's right, but like your name is Frederick, her name is Viviane. Can you say 'Viviane'?"

"V- Vi... vi. Vivi?"

Ann smiled. "Vivi will do. Now, is she bigger or littler than you?"

"Little."

"That's right, sweetheart. She is little. Vivi needs all of us to take care of her, especially Mama."

"Take Mama?" Frederick's lip trembled.

"No, sweetheart, no. Nobody is taking Mama away, I promise." Ann tousled her son's hair. "But Vivi needs Mama to keep her safe and happy, just like you do. So, you have to be a good big brother and share with Vivi. Can you share?"

Frederick nodded.

"And can you be a big boy who helps take care of Vivi?"

"No! No take!"

"Not taking, Frederick, just sharing. Just sharing." Determined to make her boy happy again, she sighed and pressed on. 

Adrian hated that sigh. He hated that she was exhausted by birthing one child for him and frustrated while trying to console the other. Ann laughed at Adrian's lousy jokes. When he was a jackass, she said so. When he was a good man, she said so twice. She never let him give up on being a better one just because the right things didn't come easy. She had the sweetest face in all the world, and after the countless times he had spoiled it with his thin lips and stubble, it was as beautiful as ever. Ann's face shined like it was looking at something special when all she saw was him. That goddamn sigh had no right to exist.

And so it happened that Adrian Albion finally understood inspiration.

"Come here, scout." Taking his son into his arms, Adrian felt nervous. He had always thought this moment would come later, when Frederick was old enough to learn to release his cares by hacking a training dummy to pieces with a wooden sword. Adrian didn't even know if Frederick knew the word 'sword' yet. "Your mother doesn't always get to cry when she is scared. She has to pretend and not cry, but I know she wants to. Vivi can't play horsey or ships or do anything without Mama because she's too little. Being away from little Vivi makes Mama scared. It makes her want her mama, but her mama doesn't live here. She only has us. Do you want to help me make Mama not scared anymore?"

"I help." Frederick squirmed around in his father's tight embrace until he could see his mother. He didn't want his mother to cry. "No scared, Mama. I help."

Ann blinked to hold back real tears. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Good boy. And while Mama helps Vivi, how about you and I steal a few of Grandmother's bedsheets and make a ship around your new bed? I'll even sleep on the deck in case of pirates." Adrian wasn't sure Frederick knew about pirates; it was something he could teach him. "Do you want to build a ship with me?"

"Ship help Mama and Vivi?"

More than you know, scout. "Yes."

"Ship!"

"Ship it is," Adrian chuckled. "Now, say good night to Mama." He brought Frederick right up to Ann's side.

"Night-night, Mama."

Kissing her little boy's cheek, Ann said, "Good night, sweetheart." Then, her smiled turned to her husband, effortlessly shifting from motherly to womanly. "Good night to you as well, sailor. Your dedication to Captain Frederick is very impressive. When you next are in want of another place to drop anchor for the night, keep me and my harbor in mind."

Adrian's lips strained to hold back a laugh. "Always, love." Ann was not one for innuendo in front of the children - certainly other adults, but not her own children. If she had thoughts to spare for 'anchor-dropping' (sadly banned for a little while yet by professional advice), she wasn't consumed by Frederick's difficulties. Adrian's father had been right after all - there was a satisfaction in a job well done.

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