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“Seriously, Ashlyn?”
Her wife doesn’t answer, but Ali is too busy laughing at their daughter to notice. The three-month-old wriggles and babbles in her pack ‘n play, either oblivious to or thrilled about her outfit.
“You like that, do you?” Ali asks, tickling her stomach. “Your mama sure loves it, doesn’t she, sweetie?”
“It just so happens I do, and you, Alexandra Blaire, are a liar if you say you don’t.”
Ali turns, soaking in the sight. Ashlyn rests against the doorframe, long and lean with a smirk on her face, as gorgeous as ever. And, true to form, dressed all in black - black boots, black pants, black button-up.
Ali gives her a sardonic smile before returning her attention to Emma. “It just blows my mind that you consistently choose the girliest, frilliest, pinkest clothes imaginable for our girl.”
“What’s wrong with that? Is someone jealous she’s not my princess anymore?” Ashlyn teases, sauntering forward to wrap her arms around Ali. “Don’t worry, pretty lady, you know you’re my queen.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Ali turns her head to give Ashlyn a kiss that lingers until Emma squeals, demanding attention.
“My little nugget is needy today,” Ashlyn says.
“You’re the one who decided she was a princess.” Ali scoops up the infant, laughing again at the onesie that declares her a ‘princess in training.’ “Have you forgotten how demanding they can be?”
“You taught me that lesson years ago, Als.”
Ashlyn darts out of reach of the swat Ali tries to give her, picking up a pair of tiny pink sneakers for Emma. Why Ashlyn delights in making Emma the girly girl she herself never was, Ali doesn’t know, but she finds it amazing and adorable and just about perfect. As long as she loves her, Ashlyn can dress Emma any way she wants.
They head downstairs, where the Krieger family is gathered at her dad’s for Thanksgiving. Besides Ken and Kyle, it’s everyone’s first time to meet little Emma Michelle Krieger-Harris, and Ali’s nerves skyrocket as her little girl is passed from person to person. She tries hard not to be that mother, but she can’t stop herself from wondering if everyone has washed their hands and is supporting her head enough and did Uncle Rick just cough?
“Easy there, little mama,” Kyle mocks in a low voice.
“What?”
“You keep edging closer.”
“Just keeping an eye on my daughter.”
“Because no one here has ever held a baby, right, Alex?”
“Not my baby,” she retorts.
“And your other half over there is doing the same thing. You two drama queens need to relax. Nothing is going to happen to my niece when Uncle Kyle is around.” He puffs out his chest, adopting a superhero pose.
“I think she needs her uncle right now,” calls their cousin Grace, who’d overheard Kyle’s comment. She hands over the baby, to Kyle’s delight until he takes a sniff.
His face contorts. “Oh God. Something has died in there. Quick, please, take her!”
Ali rescues her daughter, who Kyle holds out as far as his arms can reach, laughing at her brother. “What happened to Super Uncle Kyle?”
“This isn’t even that bad,” Ashlyn remarks. “You should have seen what she did in her car seat last week. All up her back and everything. Alex kept gagging.”
That sets off the other parents, who begin competing tales of the mishaps of their own small children, and Ali slips out to take care of the diaper problem. Afterward, she stays in the guest room for a few minutes, enjoying a little mommy-daughter gabbing.
“You are going to laugh for Mommy soon, aren’t you, sweetheart? Mama will be jealous but I’ll keep it our little secret, yes I will, I promise, just one little laugh for me …”
Ali looks behind her, sure something had caught her eye. She grins when she sees a small foot and hand sticking out from behind the door.
She climbs off the bed and scoops up Emma. “Come on, princess, let’s go downstairs,” she says loudly.
Nothing.
She tries again. “I bet your cousin Allie is down there.”
Still nothing. Ali frowns. She would’ve expected the little girl to be giggling by now. Shrugging, she returns downstairs, but only for as long as it takes to locate her dad, Kyle, or Ashlyn (whoever comes first).
“Hey, Dad, will you hold Emma for me? I need to do something.”
“Sure. Come to Grandpa, sweetheart.” He lifts the tiny girl from Ali’s arms, and even though it’s her father and she trusts him completely, Ali still holds her breath until Emma is settled.
She smiles at him, but he’s lost in grandparent world. Ali chuckles, amazed a twelve-pound infant can turn her quiet, reticent father into a pile of mush. Ashlyn catches her gaze, her eyes forming a question, but Ali waves her off, mouthing ‘five minutes.’
She finds her little cousin still in the guest room, staring with folded arms at the pack ‘n play.
“Whatcha doing, kiddo?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Ali squats next to her, but she turns away. “Hey! What’s wrong? You didn’t even come say hi to me when you got here. You’re gonna make me cry.”
“Good.”
Ali recoils. Little Allie has been her partner in crime since day one, and even through the toddler years of temper tantrums and attitude, the two have remained as thick as thieves.
Until today, apparently.
“Now wait just a minute,” Ali begins.
Allie tries to dodge her and run out of the run, but Ali has been going 1v1 with the top strikers in the world for years, and a child has nothing on Marta or Celia Sasic. She scoops her up and falls on the bed, tickling the little girl’s stomach until Allie is shrieking with laughter.
“Okay, okay,” Ali pants, out of breath from her own giggles. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you now?”
Allie sits up and crosses her arms, pouting. She mumbles something.
“What’s that? Come on, sweetie, I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me.”
Allie sighs, drops the pout, and stares at her hands, shamefaced. “I thought I was your princess,” she mutters.
Everything clicks into place, and Ali leans back on her elbows, trying to think of how to handle this. Allie had been very curious the entire time her cousin was pregnant, never demonstrating any sort of jealousy, but then again she’d still remained the primary object of Ali’s attention.
“You are always going to be my princess,” she begins carefully after sitting up and pulling Allie onto her lap. “But do you remember Elsa and Anna?” The little girl nods. “They were both princesses, weren’t they?”
“Yeah. They were sisters.”
“Right. So just because you’re already my princess, that doesn’t mean Emma can’t be my princess, too, does it?”
Allie scowls and looks away. Ali sighs, deciding to try a different tack.
“You know, a baby is a lot of work, and Ashlyn and I aren’t young anymore.”
“Are you older than ten?”
“We’re like, way older than ten.”
“Whoa,” says Allie in awe.
Ali purses her lips, feeling suddenly ancient, but she continues. “I think Emma is going to need help from someone a lot closer in age, since she doesn’t have a big sister. It’s not easy being a princess, isn’t it? She needs someone to show her the ropes. Do you think you could help Ash and I teach Emma how to be a princess? You’re the best one I know.”
Allie quirks her mouth, tilting her head to one side in deep thought. Finally she sighs and nods solemnly. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t have a little sister yet, and Marley at school always talks about hers ‘cause she can dress her up and stuff.”
Ali smiles, hugging the little girl to her. “This makes me very happy. I promise, no matter how many kids Ashlyn and I have, you will always be my first princess. Love ya, kiddo.”
“Love you too,” she mumbles, squeezing Ali fiercely.
“I have an idea,” the older woman begins, grateful she’s already spoken to Allie’s parents about it. “Why don’t you come down to Orlando when school’s on break and spend a week with Ash and I? You can teach Emma everything there is to know about being a princess, and maybe we’ll go to Disney …”
The little girl’s eyes go saucer-wide. “And I can see Elsa! And Emma can see Anna!”
“Exactly! So you wanna hold her now?” Allie nods eagerly. “Let’s go.”
Ali gives her a piggyback ride down the stairs, and they find Kyle bouncing his niece in the living room, Ashlyn hovering over his shoulder. Ali settles Little Allie on the couch, and she carefully lays Emma over her legs, Kyle sitting next to her and helping support her head.
“You sure about this, Alex?” Ashlyn mutters in her ear.
Ali shushes her, although she can’t deny it makes her anxious. Still, it’s adorable, her two favorite little girls beaming at her (well, one beaming and the other staring intently at the ceiling fan). She pulls out her phone and kneels to take a picture, of which Kyle will later complain about getting cropped out.
akrieger11: Can’t even handle the cute!! #princessesintraining