Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.

You are the only woman who could
take her cake, eat it,
swallow it, enjoy it. You are the only woman who could
experience the cake and not feel guilty when it is gone.

Today is my day with my children. While they have their lunch, I type this, and watch them chew their bologna. Please eat, little Gabe, don't you like bananas? It seems we have the widest variety of leftovers in our house. And where did they all come from, I wonder. Harry is holding Ginny, sitting at the long, sunlit kitchen table, and she whimpers against him. Belle smiles at me and pushes cheese into her mouth. Babar, she says, which means the book, not the cartoon. Babar is a Sunday tradition, even though I have the whole book memorized, pictures and all. Only if you drink your milk, Harry says, and my daughter makes a face at me. Belle hates milk. She won't complain, though, because I laughed at her frown. She only wanted the attention anyway. Done! Christopher throws his hands up in the air, as if he has finished some big feat. I have mentioned before that my children hate eating.

I came home this morning to find my house in order. Though my head hurt and mascara was all over my face. Harry was sitting on the couch waiting for me, he got up as I came in. He is much taller than me, much bigger than me, I worried that something in him would suddenly become jealous. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and led me to the couch. I know you love me, he said. I can help you, too. Help me with what? I wondered, but I only kissed him because I do love him. I smiled and he wiped mascara from around my eyes. He kissed me again, hard, almost like he felt I was going to run away. Harry, I said. Have you ever been with someone else while we were married? A horrible question to ask, it seems. A flash of green eyes as he pulled me to him. Look at me, he said. It was not a growl, almost a whisper, but intense. Look at me and listen to me. There will never be anyone else for me. Don't you get that? It's not about what I think in the situation, it'sn't the way I was raised. It's how I feel about you. He let go of me and got off the couch. You may have your "Edward." But for me, there's only you. He left the room. I felt oddly proud, though I should have felt guilty. I went into the bedrooms of my children, and kissed each of them while they slept.

And now, all are done with lunch, and Harry has gone to get Babar. Tuck, darling, I love you. I laugh. He's the only one sitting at the table, and he's eating what Belle left behind. You are such a good boy, do you know that? My biggest regret will be if my children ever get thin and think it's appealing. I want them to be who they are and think they're beautiful. (Though from only the most eating I can make them do, and the amount of energy they expend, most of them are too thin at this point). Harry's calling me. He comes into the room and hands me Ginny. He gives me a look that says he has forgiven me my question. We're all ready for you, he says, and smiles a bit.

They all have the charm of a rattlesnake compared
to the bubblegum lips and honeyed eyes in their heads. One special weekend
our gypsies will come and snatch our futures away,
taking with them what little lifeblood
is left. The ego will be intact.