Babette, who spent most of her life living out of other peoples' houses, finds her home, and her family.
It’s a quiet Friday- the kind Will doesn’t normally get, but he’d managed to swing an exception. They’d had an appointment at the hospital of their own, see, for which time he steadfastly avoided making eye contact with any of his co-workers in the hallways, because he was under strict instructions not to give anything away.
He knew better than anyone that the smart thing to do was wait at least three months, so they were sure things were going smoothly before they told anyone… Guidelines Babette had ignored when she’d called her parents later that day. That, admittedly, had not been a quiet phone call. She’d bounced around in delight until Will made her sit still.
But now here they were, curled up on the couch together- buttery brown leather, fluffy blankets thrown over the arm, the kind of couch that felt like coming home, that she’d made her darling husband drive almost three hours to pick up, because it just had to be this one- looking at colour swatches and cribs and trying to act like they weren’t a bit terrified of what came next.
Then there’s a loud Saturday; an overcrowded car park, a long list, and more adorable little onesies on offer than Babette can handle without crying. (She cries all the time right now.) They buy more than they think they need, and people who’ve seen it all before already tell them they need to buy more. That they grow faster than you think, that they’ll find a way to get dirt on two outfits a day before they can even walk.
They come home and put together furniture- mostly Tabitha and Will, who both insist she sit down after a busy morning. They put together a rocking chair first, so she can watch them from the corner and decide where things will go, and try not to get distracted picturing herself sat there at three am trying to rock a baby back to sleep.
The cacophony comes on a Sunday. Babette is sitting at the kitchen island- new counter tops, smooth and speckled with colour, bringing a smile to your face during the usually rushed breakfast rituals- making loose plans for a business proposal, something more stable, something to serve Swynlake. Will is watching her while he sips his coffee, the look in his eyes like he’s waiting for a patients vitals to change, a look she’s been getting more and more this week. Today he’s right about it. She’d expected the daycare plans would have to wait, anyway.
He’s born with a cry shrill enough to make the nurses laugh, and then both of them are crying too, and He’s tiny and perfect, and when they take him home a few days later he settles in like he was always meant to be there. It’s still hellish- he wakes up and screams, does all the things babies do that push you to the brink, but somewhere in the midst of it all, while Will is warming up milk and Babette is trying to pretend those little wails don’t hurt her ears, they smile at each other, and the curse that had once felt like dead weight she’d never shake off shrank on her spine until she couldn’t feel it making her shoulders slump anymore.
At her request to make it to Tibbs' height, measuring the distance off herself, Seamus chuckles along with her. He nods a second later. "Right. Taller than mormal it is, then, plus possibky latticework tah keep th' wee beasties in," he says, tone easy.
That was a quick fix, after all.
When he finds the word for her, the woman snaps her fingers, agreeing in French andSeamus's grin turns a bit softer, moving around his wood pile as he looks through it for her and pulls pieces to use.
"'Course, lassie. Ye can ask fer whatever yah need. Happy tah do it." And he was, was the thing. He loved the work, and he knew Willis, knew the family. Of course he would do it. "Jus' say when, after this is through, answer can figure it all out."
Actually, considering the plans for children in the not too far future, a good sturdy gate was well worth making good and tall. The streets of Swynlake werent exactly in constaqnt gridlock or anything, but the thought of even an imaginary little one getting out of the garden and into the street is enough to make her shudder.
She nods, and tries not to let her mind wander too far into the possibilities, "right. Well, you'll certainly be hearing from me again-- I'm not sure what for, but there's a bunch of stuff im hoping to eventually swap out for more hand made replacements- dining table, a shield for the log burner I'm still convincing him we should install..." Babette waves a hand in a bit of a 'and so on' gesture, "so, I hope you like to be a busy man."
"I can only imagine," Isabela comment to the whole "living with a man" comment.
It did make her wonder...did Copper expect them to live together before...anything else? They hadn't really talked about it. They had talked about marriage and children. Thankfully, they were on the same page with most of that. But...they hadn't talked about how that would look. The steps that it would take...a timeline.
And she was realizing that was probably important too.
She pushed the thoughts away. Not really appropriate to have a break down about her relationship timeline in the middle of the shopping mall.
"Yes, he does. He owns his own house," she said, sounding pleased, because she was. It was no country house in the English countryside that had been passed down through the generations with ivy growing out front. Nor a vast homestead in Texas. But, it was a good size and he had bought it himself.
"It's a nice little place. He even has throw pillows. Though, maybe that was his mum's touch," she chuckled.
Babette gasped with the appropriate delight, "ooh lala, throw pillows. I'll tell you this- it's more than Will had." She laughed along in kind, "that's nice, though. I obviously can't cast any judgement on people living in rentals but I'm really enjoying being able to hammer a nail into the wall without freaking out."
It was the first place in a long time that properly felt like home- that was all a bit sappy to be getting into out loud, but it was true. "Is he close with his parents, then? I feel like that can say a lot about a man. Will has been good with mine-- i mean, my mother is just happy I'm marrying a doctor, but you know, the age gap and and I wasn't sure my dad would like him." Babette waves a hand dismissively, "they get on alright though."
She reached for a floaty kaftan type thing in a sheer purple and held it up to herself infront of a mirror, humming, "I think I need to be careful or I'm going to end up with all purple and I will look like a grape."
Alana beamed. She was very proud of Queen Bee and what she and Marie had built together.
It had started off on a whim — just a one-time collaboration because of a suggestion from that old gossip blog. But it turned out she and Marie were aligned on so many things. They complimented each other perfectly. Alana was a bit of a control freak when it came to finances but thankfully, Marie let her take the lead on that. Any big decision, she did run by Marie, of course, but Alana’s years of running her own business
It was a beautiful way for both their skillsets to shine. They collaborated and offered ideas, but at the end of the day, Lana had the final say on her makeup line and Marie had final say on the fashions.
“Brown suede would look perfect,” Alana said. “Really tie the whole look together. Have you given a thought about what sort of shoes? We’ll want something that shoes off the patterned tights, of course.”
She'd thought a few times-- was there a way to build on what she was doing with her life? Sure, she sporadically gained new certifications and kept up to date with first aid and the lik ewhich meant she could charge a little extra.. But was that as far as she could take it? She could afford time to really consider the future now in a way she'd never been able to before.
Maybe it wasn't perfect that this stability was contingent on the man in her life, but that was just the way of it, and taking a step back from working while they organized the wedding had given her things to mull over.
"I bought it mostly because I adored the colour before considering if it really went with anything I own, so this is kismet really." Hey, anything that ended up justifying an impulse purchase that you never took the tags off. "Oh gosh, shoes- that's another one I run a range on. I usually wear trainers for work, but I like a heel outside of that. Nothing too tall for every day... Would you go for something in a colour with an outfit like this, do you think? Something to match the top-- or is that terribly out of fashion these days..?"
Iris was a fan of most-to-all animals. When the dogs come up to her, Iris is quick to make faces and cute voices at them - dignity be damned, the dogs were sweet!
"Oh, it's no trouble to me at all," Iris says, cheerily. "I brought you something for your wedding, sorry I haven't stopped by sooner." She beams at her friend as they walk towards the kitchen. "Water is just fine," Iris says, glancing at what Babette says is a mess. Iris sees it as the makings of a fresh start. As if, for instance, one were spring cleaning. Taking charms and luck and the invisible not-pixie dust around everything and renewing it. Or maybe that was Iris being sentimental.
"I like it," Iris says, encouragingly. "Are you looking through catalogues or Pinterest at all? Where are you getting your inspiration?"
She grabs a glass of water for Iris, and a couple of treats to chuck at the dogs to keep them occupied- admittedly she was almost as soft on them now as she'd always scolded Will for being, though she'd never feed them scraps off her plate like he did.
"Oh gosh, a gift? You're too sweet." They hadn't put out a registry or anything, but a few people had brought things anyway and Babette was pretty flattered by it all.
She sipped her coffee and plonked herself down on the couch, "catalogues mostly, though it's tricky- Will is a pretty simple guy and his work can be hectic so I don't want it to be an overwhelming space, but I'm trying to strike a balance where it's still pretty and a lot of the furnishings I'm finding are too... Utalitarian. And he says it can't be pink, either."
The Scotsman knew what it was like to be poor. His first job had been shining the shoes of rich men and ignoring the snide comments about being a street urchin. He'd known the shape of his ribs befoee he'd known what good coin felt like; hee knew the imprint of someone's fists before he knew the pride of earning a day's work.
So, when Babette tells him she had a cash deposit and a little look flicks across her face, he doesn't deny her the chance to gice it. Instead, Seamus grins softly and nods.
"Alright. We can make a day fer it, then. But if ye got it, I'll put it in th' sage 'till 's settled." There. A reassurance from her to him. He nods, too, when she agrees to the height, and he marks it down on his notations.
"Yer height, or mine, lassie," he murmurs, glancing up at her as he writes, a crooked smile in place. "Or Will's?"
Her question gives him pause, and Seamus leans back, popping his pencil behind his nearest ear. "Aye, I do. Carpentry 's th' word, I think, fer what yer askin'. But no, I made me money in artifact restoration, then investment. Learned woodworkin' as a lad; was me da's trade, when he did it. Only good thing he ever did, really."
Even after all this time, it was still a hard pill, his father’s abuse, and something he rarely spoke of. Babette, however, he thinks he cam trust; after all, Will does.
"I've used it fer odd jobs plenty a time, though," he says, bringing the topic back around. "Keeps my mind busy, sharp, all o' that."
"Oh, best make it to Will's measurements." Babette chuckles, a hand hovering next to her own waist as she squints a bit into the middle distance, eyeballing how much higher up his was- he was quite a bit taller than her. "Captain is a jumper and Diana is still growing, apparently." They didn't have much issue with escape attempts actually succeeding as it was, but if she was going to spend the money on it, well it was better to be safe than sorry.
Babette's hobbies had been hard to prioritise- sometimes if she eas babysitting she'd have time to read a chapter or two of a book, but in her youth there hadn't been money for dance classes or sports team or the like, and she wished she'd tried a bit harder to find fun things to fuel her time. These days she could find herself a bit listless, even though she had the funds to explore an interest or two, she didn't really know where to start.
Sounded like Seamus had made a bit more time in his life for that sort of thing, and she quirked an impressed brow as he talked about his work. "Carpentry!" She agreed, snapping her fingers, "oui, exactly. But good, yes, good to be sharp." She ndos, "all the more lucky to have bumped into you when I did then, depending on your work I might have to drop back in to enquire about a few other things- bless Will but he's no interior designer, the house could do with some new life."
It wasn't, really, about the people for Isabela, but she understood why Babette felt that way. Why many people felt that way. But Christmas was a proper holiday to Isabela. The day that her Savior, everyone's Savior, had been born. It wasn't about the gifts exchanged. It was about gratitude and reflection.
She didn't say this, of course, because as much as Isabela was a proud Catholic, sometimes she knew it was better just to not get on her high horse about it. Besides, she knew Babette didn't mean any harm by the comment. It was true for most people. It was certainly true for Copper.
Babette's own plans sounded sweet. Isabela was a little jealous, thinking about Babette and her husband and her child. All around the dinner table, exchanging presents...it was exactly what she wanted.
"Oh, you know I love a party," she said with a smile. "Any excuse for a bit of good food and dancing. Copper and I are there."
"Great! The garden should be coming together nicely by then- keeping the dogs from digging up everything I've planted has practically been a full time job. I tell myself they're just excited for a bit of colour." It was the kind of problem she was glad to have- the kind that reminded you how good your life was, if that was your big complaint. And it had been a truly sad garden when she'd moved in, of course Will cleaned up after the dogs and kept the grass mowed, but that had been about it. Babette wanted somewhere pretty she could eat breakfast in the sun and sit out under the stars with her husband.
She gives her head a bit of a shake, "I'm trying not to get too carried away with all the renovating, but I've never been able to do much more than put up a couple of posters and set out a vase of flowers so I'm a bit excited about it all." Maybe part of it was distraction; they'd agreed that breaking the curse, now that they could properly be together, it wasn't as high up on their list of concerns... But it probably should be up there, and Babette just kept coming up with other things to think about instead.
Renovations, buisness ideas, baby plans, dogs to walk and dinners to make and parties to host. "They say you don't know a man until you live with him- I thought since I'd spent my whole life in other peoples' homes I was prepared, but boy has it been funny. I feel like in a perfect world we'd probably have moved in together a bit sooner... Copper got his own place?"
Iris loved love. She loved how romantic a love story was, she loved the feeling of falling in love. Everyone experienced love differently, but Iris was of the firm belief that anyone could love.
It'd been some time since Iris had spoken with Babette, so when they'd run across each other in town and Babette had invited her over, Iris wasn't going to say no!
As a wedding gift (though belated as it was), Iris had brought a picnic basket full of decorated plates and cups. She knew Babette liked gardening, and even a picnic on the front lawn could have a certain romanticized appeal.
Iris knocks on Babette's door, excited as anything. Ugh, she was just happy to see her friend!
It was a little funny- marital bliss was absolutely the mood of the month, of course, especially being back from the honeymoon so recently, but with the couple didn't intend to waste time when it came to expanding the family, and it made Babette oddly anxious about her social circle.
Oh, the brunch babes were all a delight of course and she was sure their saturday gatherings were part of what would keep her sane for many years, but one on one socialisation was still a little sporadic for what she was used to. So with the new year and all she thought this was a good a time as any to try and be a bit more open to better friends.
Admittedly, the house could be in a better state because she'd been halfway through a handful of re-decorating projects when they left, but coming back with fresh eyes she felt like she'd finally settled on colours for the kitchen cabinets, at least.
So, there were snacks on the coffee table and the kettle was boiling and the dogs weere- mercifully- fairly calm, after a long walk with Will. Of course, the second there's a knock on the door they're both still up regardless, wuffing their way towards the entryway.
"Iris!" Babette cheers when she's managed to make her way past them, trying to wave the pair away, "sorry if you're not a dog lover- they'll go back to bed once they've investigated a bit. Come in!" She waves her through, making a beeline for the kitchen, "drink? We've got coffee, a few teas.." She waves a hand towards the collection cluttered on the counter, "don't mind the mess, I've been doing a deep clean so I can paint the cabinets. Then I might finally get that farmhouse sink I can't stop thinking about..." She chattered as she fixed herself a coffee, "if only the time away had given me a lightbulb moment for the bedroom, I've still no idea..."
“I’d pair it with anything that has a lower neckline,” said Alana. “We do want to show off our best assets after all. And that’ll give a nice contrast to the skirt, since it’s more conservating. Maybe with a lace hem to it? I like it best with a V-neck, but I think a boatneck would work too. Depends on how sharp you want the look to be.”
She pulled up two different blouses on her iPad, both similar green colors, but with different cuts. One had a more plunging V-necklike, the other a gently scooping one.
“Which do you prefer?” Lana asked. “I think they’d both look good — actually, I can have Francesca bring them out if you’d like to try them on.”
Best assets indeed- yeah, Babette had enough of a handle on her style to know what to flaunt, at least. She knew she'd gotten it right when Will was making very careful eye contact. "I like lace- and I suppose neckline might depend on the occasion." She leaned in a bit to look at the two tops. "I don't think I have any tops with that swoopy neckline- the boatneck one, it's nice though." She nods, "I could try them both, sure."
She has gotten a little better at induldging whims- Will is wonderful for it of course, and she's not too ashamed to admit she's taken well to being a bit spoiled.
Babette glances around some while Lana is getting things in order, "it's really impressive what you've got here, you know. I mean- obviously." She did run a business in a way, though her path had been much less intentional than she was sure Alana's had to have been to own this place. All Babette needed to keep things running was herself.
When the tops were brought out, she was properly focused again, "oh, oui. Love the colours too- actually, I have this old brown suede jacket I never wear that might go well with the whole ensemble.."
Another friend might be concerned, to hear that their girlfriend was spending time alone and making plans to fix up the house--but to Isabela, it only made sense. She had an unfortunate understanding of marriage even in the best of circumstances.
So, she just nodded as she listened. He was taking off for the honeymoon and that was what mattered.
Isabela blushed when the conversation turned back on her again. "Oh, uhm--I think we're going to do our gift exchange and such on the twenty-third. He works Christmas, so..." Isabela tried not to be bothered by this. It was just a day. And Copper wasn't in control of his schedule. Everyone tried to take off for the holiday. It was, in fact, very kind of him to work so others could spend time with their families.
And, yet, Isabela was still bothered.
She took a breath let it lift her smile like wings. "But he is coming to Christmas Eve Mass with my family. That'll be fun. What are your plans? Will you be gone for Christmas or are you leaving afterwards?"
Babette honestly didn't mind- she'd always been in pretty households that was true, and living on her own the difference had been quite startling, but things were entirely different now.
For one, the dogs were not quiet. They were attention seeking little monsters but she had grown to love them, and she always knew that if nothing else, Will would be in bed beside her and he'd wake her up to say hello and goodbye before he left again. The strangest thing was the not working, especially with the wedding and honeymoon planning all over with.
"Ah, i see. Well it's more about the people than the specific day, no? As long as you can make it special.." She was sure there would be holidays like that for the two of them, even as their family grew, but she'd do her best to be okay with it. She'd known who she was marrying, after all. "After Christmas," she nods, "Will's got Tabitha this year so I'm going to make us all a big dinner and we'll exchange a few gifts-- I've made Will promise we can't go overboard for eaachother this year, with everything else we're paying for. I saw the look on his face when he promised though, so lord knows what I'm getting..."
There was that fondness to her voice as she said it, like she'd already made her peace with it, Will wasn't sore for the money anyway. "Then leaving shortly after, back in the new year. I was thinking of hosting a little something in January or February actually, just for the folks who were part of the wedding. Partners too, of course." She flashed Isa a grin, "just a lunch or something, to say thanks."
Isabela expected Babette to be gushing about Willis. If Isabela was in her shoes, no one would be able to get her to shut up. And Isabela didn't mind! Especially these days.
But...she also wasn't opposed to talking about Copper. Though, she still found it...strange. She had always kept her private life quite private. She had told herself it was the right thing to do. Classy and poised. But the reality had been...she'd been embarrassed. Ashamed of the way she was letting herself be treated.
Now that she had Copper, she wasn't ashamed. It was the opposite. Her emotions felt big and clumsy. She didn't know how to articulate them without laughing. When she even thought about him, it made her smile.
She knew that she was doing it now. It was annoying. She kept her eyes fixed on the clothes she was sorting through.
"He's good. I told him the same, so I'm sure they'll be friends in no time," Isabela said confidently. "You know how the holidays at the hospital are though, busy and such. How much time is Willis taking off for the honeymoon? It better be plenty."
Actually, she really felt Will and Babette both needed to socialize better- getting the dogs had certainly gotten him out of the house more. She wondered if a baby would help too... Well, it'd probably keep them indoors for a bit first, but eventually.
"Oh, absolutely." Babette chuckled, "actually, I owe the scheduling department a basket of muffins, or something. They've always been decent when Will and I have plans- apparently they were just thrilled at the idea of him finally finding someone, and were quite absolute that he took no less than two weeks." Babette couldn;t help but fizz a bit at the honeymoon excitement, "we're going to Fiji- I've never been anywhere but here and France, so we kind of wanted to go all out... But yes, you're right, he's been busy in the leadup. I don't mind it though- I'm still making plans for the house, so I've kept myself occupied."
She stood still for a moment and looked around the shopfloor, humming, "I think I need like a cover up kind of thing- like a kaftan or something?" Babette made a vague, floaty gesture with her arms, "if the beach is too hot..."
They moved along to another row of hangers, "the two of you quite serious, then? Will you be spending any of the holidays together if you can?"
If this was any other customer, Alana might have fabricated a lie and said something like I know how you feel! and then made up something. But Babette was a friend and Babette knew her, so Alana had no problem being honest.
“Not really,” she laughed. “But then again, my literal job involves constantly thinking about how I look and how to make others look good and feel good, so I’m definitely the exception. But I do understand. We have a lot of clients who feel similarly.”
Loads of women, especially, who got swept up in work or motherhood or other responsibilities felt this way.
“But it’s my job to help you rekindle that spark,” said Alana. “So, let’s talk skirts — we have this vintage-style floral midi that I think you’d look amazing in. Let me pull up a picture…” She turned the iPad to Babette to show it off.
"...Right, of course." For the same reason Babette probably knew more about how to get a child to eat their vegetables than Alana knew, fashion was a much bigger part of her life. Still, it was probably a big part of life for most women. Truthfully, that was less to do with her problem than she would admit-- a real part of the impact was such a secret, how paranoid she'd been about getting the wrong kind of attention when it was even more dangerous.
That still stood true, technically, but Will made it less prevelant, and she liked dressing up for him. And dressing down for him, but she didn't need the help in that department.
That said, the skirt did catch her eye, "oooh, I do like it, sort of ah... Moody, no? In a good way, apprropriate for all seasons!" She tips her head a bit, "the shape is not what I usually go for, but if you think it will suit me I will try it on." She was rarely steered wrong by a good friend, and this was about embracing change after all. "What sort of top do you think would work with it?"
Seamus nods along, jotting the information down from a little booklet he was taking measurements and notes in for the build. Once he's done, the Scotsman glances back up and looks to see what she's pointing at, pencil behind his ear and booklet in his back pocket.
"Aye, that'd work. Western red cedar. 'S expensive, but 's study. Good wood tah work with." That's make a grand door, actually, and Seamus knoew it'd last with the dogs and any little wee ones running about, if Babette and Willis ever had them.
"Ye want th' gate waist high, like fer adults, or a touch taller, tah also figure in th' dogs? Could do either."
Expensive. It used to be like a bit of a swear word, would make Babette cringe every time. With her parents financial struggles and her own, often paycheck to paycheck freelance lifestyle, money had always been a carefully calculated thing... But now, with Will, a man who had an insane amount of money for only owning three nice jumpers, it didn't hit quite as hard. She'd told him they needed a new gate, and he'd told her to get whatever she wanted.
"I've brought cash, Will thought you might want something in the way of a deposit, but I'll make sure he's home when you come to install it so he can settle the final tab either way." It made her feel aq bit sophisticated, like. Cash for a deposit. "And... A little taller than waist height, yes. Better safe than sorry on that front, I think. We've got a high fence anyway, so it'll probably look more cohesive that way."
She glances around the workmans shed, humming curiously, "is this how you make a living then, mostly.. Ah, what would you call it... wood constructions or-- well I don't suppose a gate is really a sculpture, you know what I mean..." She waved a hand, "just looks like you spend a lot of time here, is all."
Isabela was a little jealous of Babette. Though, it felt less dire these days. Maybe it was just conversation she'd had with Copper, but...well, she was sure that her own wedding wasn't too far away. She felt sturdy. Less desperate. With every day that passed and Copper was his usual loyal, dependable self, she felt like she could let go, just a little bit more of the pressure she put on herself. (That her family put on her.)
It meant that she could relax a little. Enjoy shopping for Babette's honeymoon without feeling like she was going to scream.
Even if Babette's first pick made her blush a little. Not because she didn't wear similar bikinis...but the context of it all was closer than Isabela usually skirted to such topics.
"What do you mean? You have a great body, I say show it off." After all, a big part of Isabela's brand was body positivity. "That purple would look fabulous on you. Jewel tones are totally your comfort zone."
She tried not to go on about it all too much- Will, the wedding, all their plans. Babette was aware that even if people were happy for her it would still get annoying. Admittedly, she didn't have a lot else going on, but that was by her own doing. She was actually looking forward to getting back into work when they were home again, and even considering something a little less freelance... But that was still a far away.
So, even though they were shopping for her honeymoon, she would try not to make that the only thing she talked about. "Ah, this is true." Babette preened under the flattery, and hooked the hanger over her arm with the rest she wanted to try on, "that's funny actually, Will's favourite on me is that ruby one mac does-" okay, she was already talking about him again.
Babette shook her head and gave her friend a sly glance, "how are things with your beau, anyway? Copper? I told Will to say hello if they saw eachother at work."
The wonderful part about giving consultations to her friends was that Alana knew exactly what Babette was talking about.
She knew that green dress. She’d told Babette how cute it was and she definitely took a picture to show to Marie, because she thought the cut was absolutely perfect. And she remembered that one jumper.
But it was also wonderful to hear what her friends wanted more of but couldn’t seem to find.
“This is all excellent — I’ll need to send Francesca to the back but I think we do have some tights just like that.” She tapped her tablet stylus as she made some notes. “So you definitely have a feminine and elevated look, even with casual wear — would you like to focus on more casual looks or keep the focus on work wear, or perhaps even some fancy looks for upcoming events?”
By upcoming events, she of course meant wedding events.
She used to be a bit more in tune with these kinds of things-- back in France, she'd always thought a little girls shopping trip was a great way to bond with new friends, stops at the salon had been more frequent. Having to pay rent had made that harder... And, maybe, not making as many friends. Which had been rectified somewhat, but her social life was still less active that it had been.
Alana was her friend, and she knew what she was talking about, and really there was no good reason for her to feel dowdy at her age.
At the mention of upcoming events she brightened again, giving her ring hand a bit of an excited wave, "well, a new dress for the rehearsal dinner might be nice actually- I have no idea what I'm wearing yet so if you have any ideas I'm game to try on a few things- but I think really it's my more casual wardrobe that could do with the update..." Babette chuckled, trying not to sound self conscious, "you ever feel like you just... stopped thinking about it?" She wrinkles her nose, not sure the phrasing is right, "not stopped caring how I look, or anything, just... Busy with other stuff."
Babette was feeling pretty damn peachy, if she did say so. Hey, married, Christmas around the corner, honeymoon hot on its heels? Yeah, the year had certainly had ups and downs- some of the downs all to recent- but things were wrapping up just about as well as they could. It was good, finally, to feel like things weren’t one step forward then two back.
So, shopping had pretty much become the theme of the last few weeks, and while she preferred to browse for gifts alone- never knew when you’d come across something just perfect but couldn’t purchase it because the recipient was with you- bikini shopping could be a two person job. Since she wanted to surprise Will a bit, she’d picked a friend whose honesty would be just brutal enough, should she need it.
And a friend who, maybe, could do with the distraction. Hopefully Isa wouldn’t think this was shallow or silly or an attempt to rub her happiness in her friends’ face.
What did she say? Swynlake could be an unpredictable place, yes, but there was a difference between strange dreams and being attacked like that. And Babette, she knew how it felt to look into someone’s eyes and know that they were thinking only about hurting you, but she didn’t know how to pull that truth out of her chest without the rest of the ugly context coming with it. Would Isa even want to discuss it? Almost definitely not.
Still, thought of the whole horrid thing probably still found its way into her tone while they talked, even when she picked up a skimpy little purple two piece, and held it out for evaluation. “Is this too little fabric?” She asked, looking down at herself, “I know on a honeymoon there won’t be a lot of scenarios where that’s possible, and it’s not like I’m expecting a beach in Fiji to be swarming with kids in December, but there’s a line between sexy and scandalous I should be at least a tiny bit cautious of…”
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