I hear a lot that goes on in the house when I'm engaged in my work. I always have one ear dedicated to the voices and goings on in the house while I'm at the canvas or the sculpting station. I don't want to miss any of it.
"Bobby and Susan are throwing a bonfire party for seventeen people. They have eighteen pieces of kindling and twenty pieces of charcoal. Using the figures on page 23, who should they call first if ..." Mata Hari trailed off, flipping back to check her reference.
"The police," Eden said, firmly. "Why are these children playing with fire? Where are their parents?"
These little tidbits always pay off hilariously later.
"Seriously, should we call someone?"
"No, Ma, calm down."
This will culminate later in ways I'd never seen coming.
"So, I told Eden to contact the school board about a fire safety course, and now we're paying for a full accident avoidance program. I've no idea what got into her..."
The best part is that I know Mata made that question up. I checked her homework later.
She can be a bit of a troublemaker at times, but never in any real, harmful way. Rosetta caught her trying to whoopie cushion the desk chair in Eureka's room recently. Though Mata was able to beg herself out of any punishment.
Rosetta says to me sometimes that she thinks it's dangerous to have that much charisma in such a little package.
She does manage to talk her way into information a child has no business knowing. Somehow when she asks, it seems harmless.
Then suddenly you realize you've just read her a book about a man who died four times and had two alien babies, AND let her know she's his direct descendant.
Unlike her mother, Mata Hari is perfectly content on her own. She loves working out until she's fatigued within an inch of her life.
I am just charmed by this kid. She tolerates us grannies pretty well.
"You're so cute," I said recently. "Don't prank Eureka, though. She will dye your hair pink before you even know what hit you, you adorable little deviant."
I think the pink hair bit freaked her out a little, so she did chores on her own for a few days as not to obtain Eureka's wrath.
She also started working out in her room so we'd stop cooing over how adorable she is.
Honestly, she and her mother are quite a lot alike, though Mata will likely never be the beauty Allegra is. She more than has the charm to make up for it. It makes me miss when my Rosetta was just a kid with big, round glasses.
When I took the paintings down to the museum to place them for Allegra and Mata, I had the shock of my life. Sometime between her toddler years and now. All of my work. My lifetimes of work. It all appears to be gone.
I panicked. Eden contacted the Watcher who contacted whoever she answers to, and because the frames and sculpture stumps have retained their names and worth, we haven't failed, but I can't really express the amount of heartache I've experienced at the loss of those memories.
Allegra says not to worry. Her art disappears into air and her supermax is all about consumption and throwing potions.
She doesn't really understand my attachment, I think. But, she is on track, and has accomplished her supermax and her LTW of being super popular, so she's doing her part while I do mine. As a band manager, she has great access to the theater now and gave Mata Hari a grand tour.
Mata enjoyed it so much that Allegra is considering taking her entire class on the tour once Mata starts high school.
They're loving playing in the snow together. All the snow angels dotting the lawn remind me of when Eden was little.
And the snowmen remind me of Rosetta's childhood.
The igloos, however, are new. I love watching the light bounce off of the inside while Mata Hari plays pretend within.
On the morning of her birthday, we gathered in the kitchen and I felt keenly aware that we were losing one of the last children the house would ever see. I'd miss her so small and rambunctious. I just hoped she dealt with teendom better than Eureka or I had.
"I wish ... hmmm," she said. "I wish to be irresistible!"
Now, if you ask me, that was a wasted wish. The child already is. But you can't help but cheer for her.
"You're going to have The Hair!" I shouted, which got laughs from the others.
She didn't though. She had the style Eden had worn as a teen. There she was, tall and grown up. One step closer to adulthood.
