Bates & Landon [Wattys2015]

BATES

"Love is the supreme expression of life, it is the essence and ground of all creation."
- Pumpkin_Pie29

Bates

Emmy was humming as she colored on the blanks piece of paper I had given her. She was drawing -- what it looked like -- a tree. I ruffled her hair, earning a glare from her before she focused back on her drawing. Sighing, I stuck my hands in the hot water I had filled in the sink. Scrubbing a bowl full of dried and dirty food, I started to hum a song like Emmy was.

My mom wasn't home. Who knows where she was. But I didn't have a option to look for her, I had no way of transportation. Plus, even if I was to find her it wasn't like she'd go home and hang with us. She'd rather be partying and getting drunk and having sex and dating men who don't really like her and coming home to bitch at us then insult us then go and lock herself in her room. I'd be suprised if she even came home tonight, I doubt she even would.

Typical Mother, I tell you, typical mother. Sadly, I'm not even joking a bit.

Emmy was usually upset by it, she wanted a typical loving mother that she could be close to, but she didn't get that. Nor did I.

"Want are we doing tonight?" She asked.

"I figured we'd stay home and watch Spongebob Squarepants, doesn't that sound good?" I rinsed some of the now clean dishes, setting them on top of a towel on the counter, then looked at her.

She was frowning. "I guess so . . . "

"What is it, Emmy?"

Her frown sinks lower. "I -- I don't know. I don't want to watch that right now, I wanna just go do something different, Bates, do you not want to do that?"

I really don't know.

"Yeah, sure. We can. Where do you want to go?" I ask, looking at how her face lights up as I quickly agree with her.

"The park!" I should've knew she'd say that place, she loved the park.

"Ok, let's go."

•••

"Bates, please. Push meeee!" She struggled to get her short legs on the ground without slipping off of the swing to push herself off. I watched, amusedly, before walking over to her and began to push her highly into the air. She loved swinging -- I did too, but I didn't swing a lot.

"Bates?" Her quiet voice spoke up as I had let her slow down. I answered with a low hum. Then she began speaking, "why doesn't momma like me?"

I walked over to look at her, seeing how she wouldn't meet my eyes and stared at her sparkly slip ons. "Why do you think that, Emmy?" For a while, she was quiet and I began to worry. How long has that been upsetting her?

"Because," she finally managed to say, "momma is never at the house and it must be my fault, Bates." She was way too young to be blaming herself. I didn't want her to feel the way I felt when I was growing up and still do.

I crouched down to see her more clearer. She was frowning again and I needed to wash that frown away. "It's not your fault, Ems, listen. That's just the way she is, she doesn't like being tied down to people," she also doesn't like being a mother, I silently add, "and she has her own stuff to deal with." By that, I mean partying and getting drunk, I silently add again. "She has her own stuff to deal with. With that being said, she doesn't have time for everything else, you know? Emmy, do not blame yourself for someone else's ways. No one should be so inconsiderate that you have nothing else just to blame yourself, OK? Don't let her bother you, it used to upset me badly too."