Baby Talk, Listening to Hope

Author: Jesfrealo

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Magnificent seven, despite repeated requests and more then a few tears.  I’m not making any money, please don’t sue, I’m not worth a dime. I do own Hope.

Author’s Note: Firstly, I’d like to thank Robin Jordan without whom this story probably wouldn’t have gotten finished.  I’d also just like to say that this is a sequel to my story “To Hope…and Second Chances” so if you haven’t read that story this on won’t make much sense.

 

 

 

Chris stood looking into the mirror before him.  He sighed; he really had no idea how to do this.  His tie looked hopelessly crooked.  He tried retying it but gave up slamming his fist into the table and throwing the object of his anger at the wall.  As he did so he turned and ended up facing his six-month-old daughter, Hope.  The utterly adorable, not to mention chubby baby cocked her head slightly to the left and gave her father a look of disapproval as if chastising him for his outburst.  Chris couldn’t help but notice she did that a lot.  And thinking about her while he looked into her irrestable blue eyes and at her chubby face he couldn’t stop the smile that came across his face or the total melt away of his frustration and the melting of his heart that happened whenever he looked at Hope.

 

He turned away from Hope and back to the mirror.  Upon seeing his reflection he gave himself a look of disapproval before turning back to his daughter-who was, among other things, his fashion consultant.  “How do I look?” He asked waiting for her response eagerly.

 

With that Hope promptly began to sob then wail as tears flowed down her cheeks. 

 

“Do I really look that bad?” Upon which he received a squeal and even more crying. “Alright, alright, I’m changing.  You are picky.”

 

Abruptly the crying stopped and Hope leaned forward and lifted her chin in what appeared to be an effort to see which clothes he was picking out for his second attempt to find a decent wardrobe.  Obviously conditioned at what had become their custom Chris simply held a shirt over his shoulder, so Hope could see, and if she cried he put it back and if she laughed he put it on. 

 

She immediately laughed and Chris turned to question her, “Are you sure?  ‘Cause today’s real important so I need you to be sure, so are you?”

 

Hope gave a single exasperated nod of her head.  “Okay,” Chris sighed.  Who was he to question her?  She’d been dressing him for every date since she was born, with the exception of the first.  He never failed to look a whole lot better then he would have if he had picked out his own clothing, so as such, it was rare for him to question her.  However, this night was going to be more special and more important then the others so he had to be a little more careful of what he put on. 

 

He put on his daughter’s outfit of choice and walked over to the mirror and studied himself.  He really had no clue what he was doing.  Turning back to Hope he asked one more time, “Now you’re sure about this?”

 

Hope looked at him hard and unwavering dealing him an expression that seemed to scream ‘Yes, now shut up and let’s go on our date!’

 

It had become custom for Hope to accompany her father on his dates with the editor of the Clarion News.  “Okay,” Chris conceded, “Let’s go!” 

 

With that the baby bounced slightly up and down on the bed she was seated on and clapped her hands together.  So, with one arm Chris carried Hope and in the other a bouquet of wild flowers as the normally frightening gunslinger exited the house in which he boarded and marched toward Mary Travis’ home.  He looked more like a man destined for the gallows then someone about to go on a date. 

 

He was so nervous he was convinced that his butterflies had butterflies.  His palms were sweaty and, with the hand he held the bouquet in, he kept pulling at the relatively loose collar of the shirt that Hope had picked for him.  He could feel his body heat rising and he could just envision sweat stains forming as he attempted to speak to Mary.  He could feel the dampness already forming beneath his shirt while he then had an awful premonition of trying to talk to her and having his tongue get tied.  He could see him just sitting there like a fool being completely unable to speak and just starring at her.

 

His fears continued to mount, the walk to Mary’s had never seemed so long.  However as he stepped back onto boardwalk and knocked briefly on the editor’s door, Hope gave him a small one toothed smile and he got that cute but goofy grin he always got on his face when it came to Hope.  Chris had all but forgot his current location and what it was he had set out to do while he looked into his daughter’s eyes.  That is, he forgot until he heard the door of the editor’s home open.

 

As the sound and its origins registered in his mind, he once more felt the nervousness, anxiousness, and downright fear at facing this woman.  He loved her, of that there weren’t even the slightest doubts in his mind.  His doubts resided in himself.  And his fear came from an overlying concern that she would say no.  That perhaps, somehow, someway, by some cruel plot against him, Mary did not share his feelings of love.  Part of him wanted to turn and head for the hills.  Another part of him told him otherwise, however.  The strongest part of him argued the ridiculousness of the situation, it argued his foolishness at worrying at all.  How could she NOT feel the same way that he did?  He felt so strongly, how was it possible for him to be so in love when she was not? 

 

His mind’s eye also argued another foolishness.  Granted this one was significantly less important but he couldn’t help but think about it.  It was the foolishness of his outward nervousness.  If only the bad guys could see him now.  He could face the nastiest, most despicable, most dangerous outlaws but hand him a baby, a bouquet of flowers, and the woman he loved and he turned into a quivering mass of sweaty gunslinger meat. 

 

~*~

 

Mary Travis stood looking at the man who had been courting her with the help of Hope.  Mary suspected that today might finally be the big day.  The day Chris would finally pop the question.  Mary tried to conceal her shaking hands behind her back-What’s wrong with me?  I can’t even say it.  I can’t even say, in my head,…it.  Ugh, I’ve lost, completely lost my mind.  I mean look at him, handsome, intelligent,…those tight pants…

 

“Um…Mary?  I-I brought you some flowers,” Chris stumbled both in his words and literally when he attempted to step forward and present Mary with the bouquet, and his door caught on step into Mary’s home.  This sent Chris careening forward on a crash course into Mary.  Mary took one look at Hope, and promptly stepped to the side, out of Chris’ beeline to the floor, and took Hope into her arms safe from her father’s sudden clumsiness.  Chris landed in a heap on the floor, the flowers from the bouquet now nicely cushioning his face.

 

Mary leaned forward in concern, “Oh, Chris, are you all right?”

 

“Oh…yeah, Mary,” He said, then suddenly, “Is Hope okay?”

 

“Yes, she’s fine. See?”

 

Chris slowly managed to stand up.  When he finally reached his feet and steadied himself, Mary reached forward and gently touched his chin and winced as he did when her finger only slightly touched the purple, black, and greenish bruise that was quickly forming along his left jawbone. 

 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Chris?” Mary asked concern evident in her voice.  Hearing her clear concern Chris couldn’t help but find some pleasure in that she cared.  However upon thinking about what had just happened he couldn’t help but think about what a total fool he’d just made of himself.  And then he felt the only thing more humiliating then what had just happened creeping into his cheeks.  He couldn’t be blushing.  He hadn’t blushed since he was ten years old.  He gingerly brought his hand up to his cheek and felt the heat radiating from it and knew that it was true.  He was blushing!

 

“Come in the kitchen, Chris, I’ll get something cold for your chin so it won’t swell up,” Mary stated and started walking leaving no room for Chris’ argument to ever leave his tongue. 

 

When Chris entered the kitchen he saw Hope safely secured in a baby proof chair.  He went over and sat down next to his baby girl while Mary bustled over to him and pressed a glass of cold water to his chin.  Chris held it there, wanting to argue but knowing better then to try it with Mary.   Chris watched Mary headed back to the scene of the accident, probably to pick up the flowers, he mused.  So, ever the gentlemen, Chris put down the glass of water and hustled to go help Mary.

 

As he exited the room Hope could be seen once more shaking her head in disapproval, at the forthcoming disaster, however one would also notice that six-month-old Hope also had look of stubborn determination, that would not be denied.

 

~*~

 

Chris and Mary once more stood face to face neither able to move frozen in each others penetrating gaze.  However both parties wanted to move, more precisely, to move downward and continue picking up the flowers.  But they both just stood there, staring endlessly at one another, both locked within the depths of the other’s eyes.

 

It was unfortunate that they both managed to break gaze at the same time.  More unfortunate that they both leaned down at the same time.  And it’s safe to say; it was the most unfortunate that they knocked heads in their fruitless attempts to retrieve the flowers.  Upon impact both parties took a stumbling step backwards only this time in was Mary who ended the journey on the floor, landing swiftly on her bum. 

 

Chris gasped, when he saw her hit the floor, cursing himself both for causing her to fall on the floor and for gasping.  Come on Larabee, get it together, hell by the time this night is over it’ll be lucky if one of us is still standing.  And was that a gasp I heard?  Come on, get it together, man.  You’re loosing control, I mean you’re blushing and gasping…now come dumb ass and help the lady up…and no more dumb reactions, could we?

 

Chris moved into action help Mary to her feet.  As he gently helped her up both began to speak simultaneously.

 

“I’m sorry, Chris.”

 

“Sorry, Mary.”

 

“Why are you sorry?”

 

“You’re sorry?”

 

“Because…”

 

“Because…”

 

However the entrance of one, Hope Larabee stopped simultaneous, messy, nervous conversation.  She thumped her way in, sitting on one side and lifting one leg over the other, thumping right down the hallway. 

 

Once she had the undivided attention of both the adults in her life, Hope simply got on all fours, then balance herself so that her feet were on the floor, legs extended while her hands still held her up on the floor.  Then with a mighty push of her arms Hope stood.  But she didn’t stop there; there were about six feet between herself and her two grownups.  Her first steps were a bit awkward but suddenly she began running.  Chris immediately reached down and picked the little girl up, hugging her and smiling like crazy. 

 

Mary let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  Then she allowed a big smile to grace her features.  While she watched Chris talk to Hope. 

 

“That’s my big girl.  You walked!  I’m so proud of you, Hope, my good little girl,” Chris continued to talk to Hope like that as he sporadically kissed her, his face blooming with total pride in his little girl.

 

As Chris’ excitement finally started to die down, Mary moved closer to the little girl whom she’d helped to care for since Hope was newborn.  She moved in and kissed her surrogate daughter and told her how much she loved her, while Chris watched the exchange suddenly knowing, much more then he had before, that this was how it would be when he and Mary would finally be together.  And he felt secure in the knowledge that when he did finally gather the courage to ask Mary, she would say yes, and together there lives would be happiness and joy with Billy and Hope and whatever other children that he and Mary might have together. 

 

As Mary took a step she smiled at Chris and said, “Do you want to eat now?”

 

Chris let out a quiet laugh before nodding his head and saying, “Yeah, I think that’d be real good.”

 

“Okay,” Mary said.

 

The two adults and Hope in Chris’ arms began to walk away when Hope provided the two with another first.  “No!” Hope said in her beautiful, 100% adorable voice.  Chris looked down at his daughter in surprise and shock but with a huge, if not confused smile.

 

Mary turned at the child’s voice, smiled, and then looked at Chris, in question of Hope’s words.  “Guess, that’s just the word she knows,” Chris said with a shrug and then he smiled again and gently kissed Hope on the forehead and began to walk again. 

 

This time Hope bounced in his arms, as she cried, “No Stop! Marwy!”

 

At hearing the little girl say her name Mary turned and smile at Hope, kissing the little girl once more.  But as she got close, Hope took hold of her hand and with her other hand her chubby fingers found there way into Chris’ shirt pocket and removed a ring.  With huge one-toothed smile, Hope happily held out the ring to Mary.  “For you!” Hope proudly said.

 

“For me?” Mary said looking at Chris.

 

“For you, if ya want it,” Chris affirmed nodding. 

 

Mary couldn’t say anything; she just nodded her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

 

“I sure am glad one of us worked up the courage to ask,” He smiled once more kissing Hope’s forehead and wiping away Mary’s tears. 

 

Mary smiled back, taking the ring from Hope.  Chris took the ring back and managed to juggle both it and Hope long enough to take Mary’s hand and slip the engagement ring onto her finger.

 

“How about some supper?”  Mary finally said with a smile.

 

“Think we can make it this time? Hope?” Chris asked with a grin.

 

Hope, for her part, once more gave a single nod and they walked to the kitchen.  Mary poured the glasses with milk, something else that had become custom.  And they prepared to toast.

 

Chris let out a little laugh, “We’ve got so much, what do we toast to?”

 

“Hope.”

 

“To Hope,” Chris said taking a drink and looking at his daughter.  Mary followed his line of sight.  They watched the special little girl.  She smiled, giggled, then once more nodded her head in affirmation, as if to say ‘Yes, you’ve finally got it right, even if you did need a lot of help.’   

 

THE END