(more) cheers and popsicle conversations.
dinner is exactly how emily likes it—simple, comfortable, just her and aria sitting across from each other at the table, their meals in front of them, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the background. except, ever since wine night at penelope’s? every sip emily attempts to take requires a full-on ceremony.
if she so much as thinks about picking up her glass, aria’s little hands are already scrambling for her sippy cup, her body shifting in her seat with a gasp like she’s just remembered the most important task of the evening.
“teers, emmy!” she exclaims, holding up her cup with an urgent wiggle of her fingers – her eyes pleading, but borderline panic on how freaking important clinking her drink is to her. “teers!”
emily sighs—dramatically, of course—before pausing mid-sip and tapping her glass against aria’s, who beams like she’s just won an award. aria takes a long, exaggerated sip of her milk, blinking up at emily with the most content expression in the world. emily, however, has other concerns—namely, the fact that this is the fifth time they’ve done this in two minutes, and she made the mistake of putting hot sauce on her plate as a condiment, making her take a few more sips than normal.
“you know, bug,” emily says, dabbing her napkin against her lips, “usually people only cheers once per meal.”
aria, unbothered, peeks up at her, her little fingers still wrapped around her cup. she takes another sip, swallows, then slowly sets the cup back down with a thud. her big brown eyes stare at emily for a long moment, her brows pulling just slightly. then—without a word—she lifts her shoulders in the smallest shrug and goes back to her food.
emily huffs out a laugh, shaking her head.
“right. my mistake.”
aria nods solemnly, as if to confirm that yes, indeed, this was a misstep on emily’s part.
emily watches her for a second longer, then rests her elbow on the table, her brows raised. “alright, bug. tell me about your day.”
aria doesn’t look up, but her little legs start kicking beneath the table, her fingers moving as she picks at the tiny pieces of cut-up chicken on her plate.
“p’ay outside,” she mumbles through a bite.
emily nods. “oh yeah? what’d you play?”
aria swallows, then presses her hands flat against the table as if this is very, very important information— which to her? it was. “house.”
emily smiles at that. “classic. who did you play? were you the mommy?”
aria shakes her head, a few strands of her silky hair falling in her eyes, looking at emily like she’s just asked the dumbest question in the world.
“baby,” she says, like it’s obvious.
emily snorts, brushing those stray pieces out of aria’s eyes. “oh. of course.”
she should’ve known. aria is the youngest in her class—by default, she has to be the baby. that’s just how the toddler hierarchy works.if you’re the baby of the class, you’re certainly the baby of imagination time.
“i get hugs,” aria continues, blinking slowly. “an’ cuddles.”
emily huffs out a soft laugh. “ah, so that’s why you don’t mind.”
aria nods, satisfied with that conclusion. “uh huh.”
emily takes another bite, chewing slowly as she watches aria wiggle a bit in her seat. she’s expecting the next question, she knows it’s coming. and right on cue, as soon as aria swallows, she tilts her head up and asks:
“what do ‘day, emmy?”
emily smirks, wiping her hands against her napkin before leaning in dramatically.
“well,” she starts, exaggerating every word, “i had so many papers to read today.”
aria gasps. “oh no! das lots!”
emily nods solemnly. “i know! i thought i might actually drown in paperwork.”
aria’s mouth falls open, leaning forward. she grips the edge of her plate like she’s bracing for impact.
emily leans in even closer, lowering her voice. “it was very serious.”
aria stares at her, wide-eyed, repeating her. “sewious..”
emily lets the suspense sit for a moment, watching as aria grips her fork like she’s ready to take up arms and avenge emily’s battle against paperwork and the bau itself. then, she sighs dramatically and finally delivers the resolution.
“but, luckily,” she says, pausing for emphasis, “jj saved me.”
and just like that, aria’s entire demeanor changes. her little body straightens up, her legs kicking under the table as her hands fly to the tray of her highchair.
“jayje?” she echoes, blinking rapidly, as if she’s making sure she heard correctly.
emily nods, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “yep. she pulled me right out.”
aria’s lips curl into a grin, completely and utterly pleased with this answer. emily lets her bask in that knowledge for a moment before pointing her fork towards aria’s plate, telling her she needs to continue eating.
“so, bug,” she asks between bites, “what else did you do today?”
aria shifts, wiggling a bit in her chair as she thinks.
“p’ay wif gabe,” she finally mumbles, sticking a small piece of chicken in her mouth.
emily nods. “oh yeah? what did you two play?”
aria chews thoughtfully before swallowing.
“tase.”
emily hums. “chase? sounds fun.”
aria nods. then, after a pause, she pouts a little. “gabe fast.”
emily grins. “yeah? he beat you?”
aria huffs. “mhm.”
emily takes a sip of her water, watching as aria pushes a tiny piece of food around her plate.
but before emily can even set her glass down— “teers, emmy!”
emily groans so dramatically, flopping back against her chair.
“bug, please. we are seven cheers deep. i am begging for a single sip of water that does not require me to pause.”
aria, ever impassive, blinks up at her over the rim of her cup. and then—slowly, deliberately—she lifts it back up, her little fingers wrapping around the sides as she raises it with a twinkle in her eye.
“…teers?”
emily sighs, entirely defeated. but still, she lifts her glass and clinks it against aria’s.
“teers, bug.”
aria lets out a content hum, happily sipping from her cup, perfectly content. emily watches her for a moment, shaking her head with the fondest smile.
“you really liked wine night, huh?”
aria beams, nodding. emily cant help but chuckle as she gets up, and takes both of their empty plates, setting them into the dishwasher. she peaked over her shoulder – and aria? is already looking. because she knows, what is happening. emily promised her that she would get a popsicle if she cleared her plate, in which, she did. she grabs two strawberry ones from the freezer – one for aria, and…well one for her, because emily too, cleared her plate. she unwraps aria’s, and sets it into her waiting hands.
emily sits back down and leans back in her chair, stretching her legs out as she unpeels the wrapper from her popsicle. across from her, aria is already three licks deep into hers, gripping the wooden stick with both hands like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
emily smirks, pointing at her with her own popsicle. “you play with gabe a lot.”
aria nods without hesitation, eyes locked on her treat as she takes another bite. “gabe nice.”
emily hums, tilting her head. “yeah? what makes him nice?”
aria licks a little stripe across the melting top, her tiny brows furrowing in deep thought. then, with the most serious expression emily has ever seen on a toddler, she says, “he shares.”
emily raises her brows. “wow. big deal.”
aria nods solemnly. “mhm.”
emily takes a slow bite of her popsicle, squinting a little. “what does he share?”
aria pulls her popsicle back from her mouth, examining it like it holds the answer. “blocks.”
emily nods. “important.”
aria nods back. “mhhm..”
they sit in silence for a moment, both taking turns with their popsicles before emily speaks again. “does gabe play chase with you every day?”
aria huffs, clearly remembering her defeat. “yeah.”
emily grins. “and he’s still faster than you?”
aria pouts, eyes flicking up to emily’s, her little lips pushing forward in a dramatic frown. “mhm. him bigger.”
emily clicks her tongue. “you gotta train, bug. if you wanna beat gabe, you gotta get those legs moving.”
aria tilts her head. “how?”
emily leans forward, popsicle still in her hand. “running. fast. like this.” she lifts her hands and does a little wiggly motion, like she’s showing her speed with invisible legs.
aria giggles, lifting her popsicle to her lips. “you run fast?”
emily snorts, despise outrunning grown men and tackling them to the ground everyday like its nothing. she won’t let aria sit alone in defeat. “absolutely not.”
aria gasps softly, eyes wide. “why?”
emily shakes her head dramatically. “because, bug. i am old.”
aria tilts her head, like this is brand new information. “oh.”
emily grins, taking another bite of her popsicle, enjoying this a little too much. “yeah. so it’s up to you. you gotta train. get those legs moving.”
aria nods slowly, clearly considering it. then, out of nowhere, she leans forward on her elbows and whispers, “maybe gabe old too.”
emily almost chokes on her popsicle. “you think?”
aria nods, whispering back, “maybe.”
emily laughs, shaking her head. “bug, i think gabe is four.”
aria gasps again, dramatically covering her mouth with her sticky fingers. “ohhhhhhh.”
emily wipes her free hand down her face, grinning. “you really thought you had something there, huh?”
aria squints, takes another bite of her popsicle, and shrugs. “i two.”
emily snickers, leaning back again. “you’re too much, you know that?”
aria grins, eyes shining. “mhm.”
emily is mid-lick, her popsicle dangerously close to dripping onto her fingers, when she feels it. that look. aria, settled in her chair, tiny feet kicking under the table, is watching her. not just glancing—watching. the deep, thoughtful kind of staring that means something is brewing in that little mind of hers.
emily braces herself. and then, in the softest, sweetest voice—casual, like she’s just stating a fact—aria says,
“i wub my jayje.”
emily stops mid-lick. blinks. lowers her popsicle slightly. aria, oblivious to the way emily’s brain is short-circuiting, hums to herself and takes another bite of her own popsicle, content as can be.
emily clears her throat, nodding. “yeah, bug? you love jj?”
aria nods, enthusiastically. “mhm.”
emily smiles a little, leaning her elbow on the table. “that’s nice. i bet jj would love to hear that.”
aria hums again, thoughtful, and takes another bite.
“emmy wub jayje?”
emily freezes.
her fingers tighten just slightly around the stick of her popsicle. her brain tries to play it cool, but nope, her entire system is stalling, trying to reboot from what her toddler just asked. aria, completely unfazed, is still watching her. big, curious eyes. just an innocent question, right? to aria, love is something different, in ways. emily forces her body to move, shifts in her chair like this is totally a normal, easy conversation to be having.
“well, bug,” she starts, stalling, “i—i love a lot of people.”
aria, still kicking her little feet, just blinks at her. like okay…but that’s not what i asked.
then—because toddlers are relentless and will never let you dodge the thing you do not want to deal with right this second—
“emmy wub jayje?”
emily licks her lips. she glances at her popsicle, like maybe it will give her answers. it does not. aria waits, expectantly.
emily exhales, dragging a hand through her hair. “i—”
“emmy wub jayje?”
okay. alright. this is some kind of test, isn’t it?
emily takes a very long bite of her popsicle. stalls again. then—
“well,” she says slowly, “i think jj is very nice.”
aria tilts her head. not satisfied. “dat not wub.”
jesus christ.
emily pinches the bridge of her nose. how did we get here? how did my two-year-old corner me into a conversation about my feelings like some kind of tiny therapist?
aria, still watching, waiting.
emily exhales. “bug, i think we should talk about something else.”
aria blinks. “why?”
emily almost groans. instead, she smiles a little too tightly and finishes off her popsicle. “because i said so.”
aria pouts, sinking back in her chair. she sighs, then picks up her sippy cup and takes a long sip, clearly contemplating something. then, just as emily thinks they’ve finally moved on—
“jayje.. wub emmy?”
emily chokes.
“i believe it is bathtime for you,kid.”