Daffodil - Gen 8 Ch 5

Not long after Lotus' return home, it was time for her birthday. We still didn't know all the details of her time in Bridgeport, but the story was starting to be revealed in stages. Violet had broken up with her, and left her to fend for herself on the streets. She had been afraid to call us, fearing mom and dad would be angry. She had been terrified when Uncle Mel had found her.

Mom and dad went all out for the party, making it a three-way deal with Lotus, Cypress and Peony, trying to make her feel at home again. But she still seemed pretty overwhelmed by the whole situation. I wondered what she was wishing for, with that faraway look in her eyes.

I think she really wanted to be on her own, as an adult now, but was still afraid, after her experience in Bridgeport. Leave it to my big brother to step in with a solution. It was agreed all around that Lotus would move in with Song and Jenny.

Thoughtful as always, Cypress took his time at the cake.

He's starting to look a lot like his grandpa Zhan.

Then it was my baby sister's turn.

I could hardly believe that she and Cy were teenagers already. It's amazing how much she looks like mom.

With two teenagers and a toddler in the house, my life became a hectic blur. I had finally caught the eye of one of the coaches, and was offered a starting spot on the team. Between team meetings, practices and games, I barely had time to think.

I'd rush home from practice, and catch a few snuggles with Juniper before falling into bed exhausted.

When the weekend rolled around I was the lucky one who got to teach Cy to drive. And I had thought my games were stressful!

I don't know what I would have done without my wonderful husband. He could even get Juni to eat without throwing the mess all over the floor!

They invented their own private games that made them both laugh uproariously. No one else could figure out quite what the joke was.

Whenever I'd get a spare moment I'd head to the chest where Denis had carefully packed away the old books that we had found. If the one book was a journal of sorts, could there be other, more ancient ones?

Sometime when he's return from the warehouse late at night, I'd still be at it, poring over the old tomes. Elvira had given me some translation resources, and I could actually decipher some of the ancient writings now.

"You should go to sleep, love. Don't you have a game tomorrow?"

"Not until three o'clock. And this is fascinating."

Most of the books were written in the old French dialect of the journal. There were a few books on nectar making, and more on the history of Champs Les Sims. While fascinating glimpses into the past, none held my interest like the old journal. This was an actual history of my own family's past! There were even a few hand painted drawings, depicting family events such as birthdays, all featuring sims with the same green hair as ours. 

There are only two books that I can't make out. Both of them feature the same painted icon as the French journal. Papa says one of them appears to be an ancient form of Chinese, and the oldest one - well, no one I've shown it to, even Elvira, recognises the language it is written in.

My whirlwind of activity caught up with me one night, when I arrived home late after a particularly stressful team meeting. I was surprised to find my mom and dad still up, and waiting for me as I walked in.

The serious expressions on their faces made me realize immediately that this was not just a casual welcome home greeting.

"Sweetheart," my dad began, "we're worried about you. You've been working too hard. Your stress is beginning to have an affect on all of us."

"It's not that bad, papa. You know I like working hard. I have things under control, I promise."

As I said the words, I realized I was just making excuses, but I really thought I could get things under control, with just a little more work.

"Sweetheart, from we stand, things do not look under control at all," my dad continued.

"Just yesterday, you blew up at Pea when she asked you for help with her homework."

I sighed. I did remember her asking for help with a math problem, but for the life of me I couldn't remember why I had blown up like that.

"Uh.. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to her."

"And that's not all, Dilly," my mom cut in. "Cy is reacting to the general stress level around her by exhibiting some strange behavior. Every morning before school, he checks the stove..."

"...and then all the sinks. Last week he was late for school twice because if his compulsive sink-checking."

I sighed again. As if my mom is one to talk. She exhibits more 'strange behavior' than anyone else I know, and I don't think she's stressed at all.

"And last but not least," my dad frowned at me, " it was Juni's birthday tonight, and you missed it! How could you?"

"The first thing he said when he grew up was, "Where's mommy? Why isn't she here for my party?"

"It was an important meeting. It ran late," I mumbled grudgingly. "I didn't mean to miss the party."

Even as I stood there making excuses, I began to realize that maybe mom and dad where right.

"No one has ever looked back on their life and said they wished they had spent more time at the office," my dad said quietly. "So that is why we are sending the four of you away on vacation. Denis has already arranged time off, and your last game of the season is tomorrow. Here are four tickets to China, leaving day after tomorrow."

"But... "

"No buts. The tickets are non-refundable. Go, and reconnect with your family again, sweetheart."