Golden Gooses

16

     CW: The first paragraph of this chapter contains some descriptions that may upset those with emetophobia. If so, please skip said paragraph. Hope you enjoy.

     Evan had just got off the bus and came home, surprised to not see his parents greeting him at the doorway. He let himself into the house as the door was already open. The house was unusually quiet, looking almost deserted. His parents weren't even waiting in the living room, nor were they in their bedrooms. His heart tightened a bit, not used to his home being this quiet during the day. He hesitantly walked over to his room and placed down his backpack, before calling out for his parents. "Mommy? Daddy?" He exclaimed, his voice trembling a bit. Part of him feared that he wouldn't hear a response. But to his relief, he heard a faint "Over here, Evan!" from Timothy, coming from the bathroom. He rushed over but never expected what he'd find. Miranda was crouched over the toilet, heaving as Timothy held back her hair. He ran to his mother's side, trying to comfort her and get answers at the same time. "Mommy, are you ok?! What's wrong?! What's happening?!" She coughed before weakly turning her head towards Evan. "I'm fine, Mommy's just—" Her explanation was interrupted by another bout of vomiting as she abruptly turned back to the toilet to continue retching out a thin stream of vomit, gasping. "We'll explain later, just get out!" Timothy instructed, waving Evan away. Evan reluctantly agreed, worried. He stood outside of the bathroom, able to do nothing but listen to the pained gags of his mother as she coughed up her guts.

     20 minutes had passed, and Miranda's sudden sickness had finally given her rest. Timothy held her up as she crept out of the bathroom, exhausted and shivering. Evan was asleep beside the doorframe, dried tears marking his face. Timothy sighed and grabbed him by the hand, dragging him to the living room.

     He lowered Miranda and Evan onto the couch. Evan was awake by now, very confused as to why he was dragged across the floor. But he sat down beside his father, playing with his nails as Timothy sat silently, thinking about how to address the situation. Miranda placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head no. "I'll handle it." She whispered. He reluctantly agreed, getting up so Miranda could scoot closer to Evan. She picked the dried tears off his face, lifting his chin to look her in the eyes in the process. "Listen, bubby. How do I say this?" Miranda turned to Timothy, who was just as awkward. "Daddy and I got you a little sister. The thing is, she's baking. Every baby starts out by being baked. They take a long time to bake, too. Baking can be really tiring, but I and every other mommy go through it because we know after a long time in the oven, an amazing little you will pop out!" She explained, poking Evan in the stomach. He giggled, excited to have a new sister. He ran off to his room, satisfied with the answer. When they heard his room door shut, the atmosphere in the living room became rigid. Timothy rubbed her back sympathetically. "Are you sure you can handle another baby? I mean, what if it turns out we have another anomaly? Can we really handle keeping two secrets from the government?" Timothy questioned. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. All I know is that I wanna keep her." She replied, looking down at her stomach. Timothy sighed, bringing Miranda in for a hug. "As long as you're okay."