Chapter 4 - Telling Bjoern
Astrid sat up in bed, wearily. The sun streaming through the bedroom window was taunting her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
What a horrible night's sleep, she thought. She dreamed of the woman - Astrid could never decide if she was an old woman who seemed young, or a young woman who seemed old. Either way, the strange woman invaded her dreams fairly often, especially as of late. She had a pretty good idea as to why.
She sat back, going over the last few days in her mind. It was only 6, but she was as awake as she'd ever be. Nothing earth shattering had happened, but Astrid still had a sense that something was amiss. She trusted her senses - they had gotten her into trouble on occasion, but they had never been wrong, either.
She had painted a few more paintings. One impressionistic painting had turned out especially well; so well, in fact, that she had deemed it a "Masterpiece" and decided not to sell it. Instead, she named it field of dreams and hung it up in her room. It had a hidden meaning to her.
After selling a second painting, however, she had managed to purchase a violin for Bjoern and a guitar for Mitchell. Neither of whom were particularly gifted in making music.
They would both require a great deal of practice before they could claim to be prodigies of any sort.
And with all that - let's be honest - racket her boys were making around the house, Astrid was happy to go to work and leave them alone to practice.
Oh, and Elijah Ragsdale, the boy Bjoern had met in the park that day came over after school a couple of times. He and Bjoern were very quickly becoming best friends.
"I heard that in Willow Creek, you can catch fish that are thiiiiiis big!" Bjoern said, stretching his arms wide. "Maybe I'll catch one of them one day."
"Haha, no way! Only sharks at that big," Elijah laughed.
"They're bigger. I'll show you."
"Ooops, I forgot shark week was last week. I think this show is about meerkats."
"I think it's more likely that the fish in Willow Creek are this big," Elijah refuted, demonstrating with his hands.
After practicing on the guitar for a couple of days, Mitchell decided to give music a break for a while. His true calling as an entertainer, after all, was in comedy. He had spent a bit of time working on some routines, and even more time practicing them. Alone. In an empty house.
"Thank you, thank you, you've been a wonderful audience," he said to no one in particular. Astrid did worry about him at times.
But now she had other things to worry about.
"Why are you upset, Mom? Dad said you were upset." Bjoern had asked that at breakfast just yesterday morning.
The question had surprised her. Her son was old enough to be aware of the feelings of other sims? My, he was growing up so quickly!
"I'm not upset, Bjoern, just a bit worried."
"What are you worried about?"
"Oh, I worry about a lot of things. I worry about Daddy's job, and I worry about how much money we have. I worry that none of us are working as hard as we should be. But mostly, I worry about you."
Bjoern looked surprised. "Me?"
"Yep. Being a Mommy, and being a grown-up, comes with lots of things to worry about."
"Being a grown-up must stink!"
Astrid couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm going to have to tell him," Astrid had told her husband later that evening.
"Do you really think he'll take it that badly?" asked Mitchell.
"You see how proud he is of being a part of this! It's like his entire identity revolves around being a legacy sim. I don't know if I can bear to tell him that he's only a spare."
"
Only a spare?"
"Oh, you know what I mean. Sure he can be part of the family and help us earn points and stuff, but he's eventually going to have to move out and leave the estate to a
younger sibling. I don't think he'll take it very well." Astrid shook her head. "That, and, he's going to have to share his room with his brother or sister. I had to share with my sisters, it was awful."
Suddenly Mitchell had a sense of what this was all about.
"You're afraid."
"I am not!" she countered, defensively.
"You're worried that Bjoern's childhood is going to play out like yours did."
"It won't, I'll be sure of that," Astrid replied. "For starters, I don't plan on having 8 kids."
"Oh plumbob, I hope not!" Mitchell laughed. "But seriously, Astrid, he's going to have to decide for himself how he's going to react to the news. You can't change his mind or make that decision for him. As his parents, we can only offer guidance and support."
Astrid sighed. "You're right. I think I'll have to talk to him tomorrow."
After crawling out of bed, Astrid made her way into the lounge room. She hesitated in the doorway when she saw Bjoern sitting at the kitchen table, working diligently on his homework, muttering the mathematical equations out loud as he did them.
"8 times 2 is 16, 8 times 7 is, um, well if 7 times 7 is 49, then 8 times 7 is 56. 56 plus one is 7. 8 times 1 is 8, 8 plus 5 is…13! Okay, now a zero under the 6. 1 times 2 is 2, 1 times 7 is 7, 1 times 1 is 1. Now, 6 plus 0 is 6, 7 plus 2 is 9, 3 plus 7 is 10, and 1 plus 1 plus 1 is 3!
172 times 18 is 3096!"
"I thought you finished your homework last night before bed?" asked Astrid, sitting down across the table from him.
"I got sleepy, so I went to bed early. How come I can't just use a calculator? My teacher says I gotta do it all on the paper. See? I even wrote in all the little numbers."
"What if you don't have a calculator? You should know how to do it without one."
"When am I going to need to know what 172 times 18 is where I don't have a calculator?" Bjoern asked, almost incredulously.
It really took Astrid by surprise - he almost sounded like a teenager, but last time she'd checked, that birthday was still a week away. But as she knew well, he sort of had a point.
"Bjoern, just finish your homework."
"I'm all done. That was the last question," Bjoern said, closing the orange book and looking up at Astrid for the first time that morning. "Mommy," he began to ask, tentatively. Astrid braced herself. "How come your tummy looks bigger today than it was yesterday?"
She sighed.
"Come over here and sit down on the couch with me," Astrid said, "I want to have a chat with you."
The boy seemed to hesitate, but eventually jumped down from the Kitchen chair and followed his Mom.
"Bjoern, I wanted to talk to you a little bit about who you consider yourself to be."
Bjoern looked at his mother curiously. "Whaddaya mean, Mom?"
"I mean, who do you say you are?"
"That's easy! I'm Bjoern Childer, and I'm a Legacy Sim. I'm a-"
"Hold it right there for me," said Astrid. "That's the part I want to talk to you about. Now you
are a legacy sim, sure. I'm a legacy founder and you're my son. But that's not
all you are, is it? And that's not the most important aspect of
who you are, either, right?"
Bjoern crinkled his nose, confused. "I don't know what you mean," he said.
"I mean, being a legacy sim shouldn't define you. There are hundreds of legacy sims out there, or thousands. Or maybe even millions. You're unique not because you're a legacy sim, but for other reasons. Can you think of what they might be?"
"Um," Bjoern scratched his head. "I'm best friends with Elijah. No one else is best friends with Elijah."
"That's good. What else?"
"I love getting out and meeting new people and being social. But I also like video games, and collecting stuff."
"That's really good, Bjoern. Those are aspects of your personality - things about you that can never change, that can't ever be taken away from you. You're a thoughtful and friendly sim. You invite other kids to join in your games. You put a lot of thought into things - you don't make rash decisions or jump to conclusions. You are also very good at anything and everything you put your mind to."
The youngster looked up at his mother with wide eyes. "Do you really think so, Mom?" he asked.
"Of course I do. I'm your Mom."
"Doesn't that mean you
have to tell me all those good things?"
"No, Bjoern, it doesn't mean that. There are plenty of moms who don't tell their kids how valuable they are nearly often enough. Also, I'm Astrid Childer, and I'm an honest, driven and educated sim. I believe everyone is unique and everyone is important - but no one sim is more important than all the others."
"Are you sure about that? I always thought Bella was the most important sim."
"Bella Goth? No, she's not most important, just the most famous. Fame and Importance aren't the same. But that's not the point I was trying to make."
"Oh, okay."
"The point I was trying to make was that sometimes things don't turn out the way we hope. Sometimes those things can effect parts of who we are. But nothing can change who you are deep inside your heart, Bjoern, so make sure that you know who that person is. Do you understand me?"
Bjoern had no idea what his mother was on about, actually. But he nodded, because he was getting bored.
"That's good. Now to answer your question, my tummy is bigger because there's a baby growing inside me. Just like you, this baby started out really, really small, but it grows inside me where it's nice and safe until it's big and strong enough to come out and be in the world."
"Woah, that's cool!"
"Yeah, so in a little while, you're going to be a big brother. Do you think you can handle that?"
Bjoern puffed out his chest. "Sure, I can do that!"
Astrid smiled. "I'm glad. There's another thing you need to know about the baby, though."
"What's that?"
Astrid sighed. Best prepare him for it early, right. "Once the baby is born, the baby is the one eligible to be heir by birthright. You're not going to be the heir anymore."
Oh no, thought Astrid, pulling her son close,
What have I done?
