Post by lyla grace richards on Feb 5, 2012 9:52:16 GMT -5
When the word is never gunna come out?
Lyla liked to think that really she had this yummy mummy thing down to quite a fine art. After applying a final sweep of lipgloss, she floated out of her bedroom and into the nursery. ”Hello my beautiful little lady” she cooed, picking Willow up and nestling the baby close to her. Whilst most single mothers struggled around wearily with no money and no sleep, a wealthy and generous set of parents had ensured that Lyla had gotten away with most of the hard parts of parenthood pretty comfortably. Her whole life had been an easy ride and now was no exception. When she wanted to go out, her parents would sort out childcare. When she wanted to get her nails done or try a fancy cocktail bar, there was always some of her fathers money available to her. She may be twenty nine and a mother herself, but Lyla was still somewhat of a spoilt child at heart.[/size]
It was this selfish and spoilt attitude which had ended her up with baby Willow in the first place. Deciding that she was not going to reach thirty without having had a baby, and with a string of failed and childless relationships behind her, Lyla turned to one of her male friends to fulfil her dream. Except that she somewhat overlooked the part about telling him. One drunken romp later, Lyla had got what she wanted and, just as she had hoped, with a little bit of reassurance he was none the wiser.
It might well make her look like a cold hard bitch but Lyla didn’t do what she did because she was a horrible person who wanted to mess a poor bloke around. She just wanted a baby, all to herself. Selfishness was indeed one of her traits but then so was naivety. Believing the plan to be a perfect one, Lyla had never really considered how her actions might affect anyone else. She wanted a baby, she needed to go out there and get her baby. She just didn’t want the man to go with it. She was over men, well and truly. She didn’t need the father around and, in her eyes, neither did Willow. What the father thought or wanted, Lyla had never really thought about.
Everything had appeared to go perfectly so far. Willow’s father seemingly didn’t suspect a thing and this meant that Lyla both got to keep Willow as all hers and got to keep her friend as a friend. Life was hunky dory, Lyla thought, as she snuggled her three month old daughter and breathed in her warm milky scent.
”Let’s get you ready for a walk, shall we?” she asked the baby, scooping up a little pink hat from the dresser and carrying that and the contented child downstairs. Lyla had not put much thought into the future. She lived for the present, enjoying her daughter’s infanthood without considering how her deception was going to work as Willow got older. She pushed to the back of her mind any thoughts about what would happen when Willlow asked who her father was, or when the father began to notice that the child looked like him. For now Willow was just a podgy baby, not able to question and not old enough to resemble anything but a little pink cherub. Lyla would just have to deal with anything else as time went on.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lyla placed the baby into the buggy which sat next to the front door, wrapping her up and placing her little hat onto her head. How perfect she was, Lyla thought, stroking her daughter’s little cheeks lovingly. The one friend who knew the truth about all of what had happened had told Lyla she was stupid, reckless and that it was a terrible decision. But looking down on the perfectly formed little bundle, and knowing how happy she was with her deception and how happy Willow and the father were in their ignorance, Lyla couldn’t help but think she had made the right choice. After all, what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you..could it?
