{"id":1261,"date":"2022-07-14T10:20:39","date_gmt":"2022-07-14T10:20:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1261"},"modified":"2022-07-14T10:20:45","modified_gmt":"2022-07-14T10:20:45","slug":"its-only-a-little-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/its-only-a-little-one\/1261\/","title":{"rendered":"It\u2019s Only a Little One"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Aspen?\u2019 Bill spat out the letter \u2018p\u2019 like it was a bitter pill. \u2018What sort of name is that?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stroked my swollen abdomen and gazed out the window for added wistfulness. \u2018Mum would have loved it.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Hazel still rules our lives from beyond the grave,\u2019 he muttered into his tea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What\u2019s that supposed to mean?\u2019 I stood up, losing my balance. In an instant he was easing me back onto the sofa, my vulnerability softening him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u2018Heather! Take it easy. You can choose the name, within reason\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ah, reason. Along with logic, Bill\u2019s guiding force as a mathematician. But it did mean that he knew when to acquiesce in order to maintain our relationship\u2019s equilibrium. In response to my doe-eyed plea, he did the necessary mental calculations and gave a perfunctory nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled, patting my bump.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aspen, true to her name, was never more at home than when playing among the trees, yellow hair trembling in the dappled light. The woods that fringed the estate had been Mum\u2019s favourite place too. It was as though Aspen had absorbed something of Mum\u2019s spirit by osmosis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bill was sawing wood one afternoon when Aspen and I emerged from the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Daddy, look what I made!\u2019 He put down his saw and she strung a daisy chain around his sturdy wrist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Thanks! Guess what I\u2019m building? A treehouse!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aspen squealed with delight, then ran into the house to wash her hands for lunch. Bill went back to work, flexing his floral arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The treehouse plans were laid out on the grass in Bill\u2019s precise hand. Glancing down at them, I smiled. Then shuddered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Bill!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stopped sawing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What? You\u2019ve gone white.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Mum\u2019s will was clear: no felling trees!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It\u2019s only a little one. The treehouse won\u2019t fit otherwise.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It\u2019s ancient lore. We\u2019ll invite bad karma into the family.\u2019 My breath was ragged, stringing my words into an uneven rhythm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bill sighed. \u2018Karma is a fabricated concept to help people feel in control of the uncontrollable. Disasters happen by chance. That chance isn\u2019t altered by removing a tree against your dead mum\u2019s wishes.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My blood boiled over. \u2018Karma isn\u2019t some mystic thing. It\u2019s the cumulative effect of your actions. Do bad things, create conflict. The risks stack up, increasing the chance of danger. And I don\u2019t care whether that fits a mathematical formula!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bill clenched his fist around the saw and the daisy chain snapped, curling beside his huge boot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dammit, I\u2019d lost my cool. Going head-to-head with Bill never worked. I knew he\u2019d win this argument, with a probability of 100%.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He trampled the daisy chain and continued building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within days, the remains of the slain tree were stacked against the fence like broken bones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The day Aspen didn\u2019t return from the woods, the leaves danced as we called her name, and I felt grief take root in my heart even before I heard it. The whisper on the wind, hissing through the branches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It\u2019s only a little one.\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u2018Aspen?\u2019 Bill spat out the letter \u2018p\u2019 like it was a bitter pill. \u2018What sort of name is that?\u2019 I stroked my swollen abdomen and gazed out the window for added wistfulness. \u2018Mum would have loved it.\u2019 \u2018Hazel still rules our lives from beyond the grave,\u2019 he muttered into his tea. \u2018What\u2019s that supposed to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[597,635],"tags":[637,12,11],"class_list":["post-1261","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-597","category-july-2022-chance","tag-bill","tag-my","tag-was"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-kl","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1261"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1263,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261\/revisions\/1263"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1261"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1261"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1261"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}