i can just picture the poisoning plan going down so perfectly in au squared. walt making the decision, albeit reluctantly. relieved that they already have that decorative pot of lily of the valley in the backyard, bought a few years ago and still putting up flowers (it's not easy to find in chain garden stores, at least not in anything but seed form). tweezing berries out, distilling and distilling until he has a fine liquid—perfect consistency. going to the store's infant care section to get both wipes for holly and a new sippy cup, a cute purple one made from opaque (not translucent) plastic. baby is only a year and three months now, so it's developmentally appropriate for her to be using a sippy cup and he knows that by now she must have plenty (always buying toys and sippy cups and pajamas. fewer game stations and speakers lately). spending longer than he technically needs to carefully "painting" the interior of the cup with the berry distillation. knowing that he meticulously measured the amount but still fearing with every stroke that it's too much. none of this will work out if baby dies (and he doesn't want her to die at all. of course he doesn't. what kind of monster actively tries to Kill a little girl).
then the day of. walt goes over the process in his head endlessly from the moment he opens his eyes. he gets one of holly's diaper bags and fills it with just enough random care items that it looks believably full but doesn't betray that some of the items are not quite developmentally appropriate. it's a minor detail but he fixates on it. the cup goes right inside, near the top of the bag (quickly grabbed and thrown inside in a rush). then he drives down to the daycare that gus has been paying for baby to attend, the nice one right off of telton street. nestled in the middle of an upper-class suburban subdivision, largely attended by the children of lawyers and wealth managers in the area. jesse most definitely doesn't fit in with their typical clientele (the staff must've looked at him so suspiciously, maybe even vaguely disgusted) but the tuition checks come in from gus on time so no one makes a big fuss. perhaps another charitable endeavor from the famously generous gustavo fring? it looks very nice from the outside: walt's sure it'll look nice on the inside as well.
walt gets there at seven, giving himself plenty of time to park a block away. pulled up in front of a gray two-level with a big "for sale" sign plunged into the front yard (the housing market still hasn't recovered. will it ever??). daycare starts at seven-fifteen and although punctuality has never been jesse's strong suit, walt knows that his (his) partner won't just roll in late. sure enough, by seven-ten, walt spots jesse's red turcel going around the corner as he leaves the daycare's parking lot. disappears down the road into the flow of traffic. on his way to another fucking errand ("im uh. not gonna be in the lab tomorrow. just.... like, the other stuff. all day.") it momentarily fills walt with rage, but he doesn't lose control enough to take his eyes off of the clock. seven-forty-five.
walt pulls into the parking lot, driving just quickly enough to convey a sense of urgency but not enough to draw unnecessary attention. grabs the bag, throws the strap over his shoulder. he's wearing slacks and a sweater—not a button-up. a sweater just seems more approachable, less suspicious. he's right about the building: the interior of the daycare Is nice. sunny foyer with a large desk, cute pastel walls, drawings hung up. the actual classrooms are behind the desk, secured by electronic locks. walt won't need to pass through them though. he hurries up to the desk, just the tiniest bit out of breath.
"sorry, but i'm looking for baby. my granddaughter, baby? pinkman?" "yes, yes, i believe she's in the class with mrs. shaw." "her birthday? oh, april 5th, 2008." "yes, im her grandfather. i know my son jesse dropped her off earlier this morning. he just gave me a call. said that he apparently packed the wrong cup with her belongings this morning." "oh yes, i know. she's very particular already. just that pacifier, just that cup, or else there's a crying fit in the making." "but yes, he said he sent her in with a dirty one. not washed. worried about the nib having old residue stuck inside." "oh, i agree, i didn't think it was an emergency either, but he was very upset. asked if i could bring her a new one and of course, i mean—who am i to argue? i could never say 'no' to either of them. so here. do i have to—?" "thank you, okay. i didn't want to go in there anyway and make a scene. she might be upset to see me dip in and leave right away. but she'll get it? before they have their snack?" "oh, wonderful. thank you again, i very much appreciate it. i know he will too."
