The memorial was short and sweet, just as Oliver would have wanted, family only. Harry brought Vicki and his eldest daughters Edith and Maisy; Oscar came alone, as did Rose, who kept a respectful distance from Holly.
Harry couldn’t help but notice how fragile his mother looked with her hair let down from its eternally tight bun, her face barren of the light makeup she usually wore.
Holly didn’t question Oliver when he asked her for a dance outside in the courtyard of the retirement complex that evening. They had bid their children goodnight, and she was beyond tired, but his impish grin was irresistable.
For a moment the only thought she had was that the air felt so unseasonably cold as he dipped her for a kiss.
(This sucked. Oliver was the founder of my entire Strangetown community almost 2 years ago when I loaded the Sims on this laptop.)
I am terrible at being impartial with sims, so because I love Greta the art major, I built an Art building at La Fiesta Tech.
Welcome to the Thayer Memorial Art Building!
The ground floor houses the faculty offices, as well as a painting classroom and a ceramics classroom.
The main portion of the second floor is the student art gallery, where classes display their works. There is also a textiles classroom, and a few small studios reserved for seniors completing their senior theses.
That night over Holly’s amazing Baked Alaska, they broke the news together that Oliver didn’t have too much time left. Oliver had wanted to name Harry the heir of his estate, but he found himself caught up in the conversation, or should he say monologue, that followed.
Oscar, his head perpetually in the clouds, or so Oliver had always thought, waxed poetic on his feelings about aging and the afterlife. Rose was agreeable, contributing little, as Oliver assumed she felt her connection to the family was tenuous. Harry chimed in a few times to try to re-route the conversation to estate planning, but the attempt was in vain.
Holly listened from the kitchen as she washed dishes. Each of the kids was grieving, she thought, in their own way. At least her kids were, who knew about the daughter. Harry with facts, Oscar with fiction, those had always been their coping mechanisms. She noticed that Vicki had retired to the living room, sitting quietly on the couch, seeming to be lost in thought.
Holly knew that this was not exactly what Oliver wanted when he had planned the evening, but truthfully, it was what the kids needed.
Once they’d cleared away the breakfast dishes, Holly and Oliver returned to their seats. The day was young, and Oliver felt old.
"I think," he began, then cleared his throat, "I think it’s time we let the kids know," Oliver said.
Holly took his hand, hoping that she looked reassuring. She wasn’t always great with emotions and this time, they felt like they were going to get the better of her.
"Maybe we can invite them over tonight for some dessert," he continued.
"That sounds lovely," she replied, "I’ve been working on my Baked Alaska."
"Perfect! It’s set then, I’ll go call the kids."
"You should invite," she faltered for a moment, "your daughter, too."
He squeezed her hand, “Are you sure?”
"She’s friendly with the boys, I can’t imagine that she wouldn’t want to know, at least for their sake."
It wasn’t long ago that the existence of Rose was revealed to Holly. She felt angry and betrayed, but more so she felt betrayed by the clock.
If they were younger, if she had known sooner, she would have had the privilege of time to be angry and dramatically upset. But all that she had was fleeting moments with her husband and children.
There wasn’t time left to leave him, because he wouldn’t be there if she decided to come back. So, Rose would be a part of the family, but she certainly didn’t have to get to know her.
I love good genes challenges, but this one I failed. I made SO MANY babies and they were all horrific. So terrible.
Edna here looks fresh out of a horror movie.
Maybe I’ll give it another shot sometime.
Oliver knows that he doesn’t have a whole lot of time left with his family, but he’s vowed to make the most of these last few days.