The year passed by with Emma getting stronger. Sarah held her hand before letting her walk, hearing her gibberish words. She soon realized that her breastfeeding days were coming to an end. Sarah simply couldn't keep up. Oliver was continuing to work, providing for them whilst Sarah continued cleaning the house and keeping everything tidy.
It seemed like its own job, taking care of the house and a daughter all on her own. But it was a job she enjoyed. Completing the chores, then using formula to feed her daughter before she could play with her was something she'd look forward to every day. Even when Sarah slept closest to the edge, back turned to Oliver, nothing could keep her mind off the topic of her daughter.
She began to spend every waking moment infatuated with her chubby cheeks and the rolls of baby fat that she'd sprinkle baby powder into to keep the rashes at bay. When Sarah would rub the baby powder in her neck, Emma would squirm, her brown eyes lighting up as she let out the squeals of a happy baby. Sarah would smile, a warmth blossoming in her heart every time she witnessed her daughter laugh and squeal, a bright smile on her small pale face.
Sarah's mother would stop by, pinching Emma's cheeks gently, which would earn another squeal from Emma. They'd watch her play, swinging around the small baby toys that Sarah bought with the money that was given to her by the Greans. Everything she bought was with the money bestowed to her by Mrs. Grean, who was obsessing over Emma, though Sarah was always hesitant to let her hold her daughter. The only other person Sarah trusted with Emma was her own mother.
"You make the cutest babies, Sarah." Her mother said, unable to keep her hands to herself. She was always touching Emma, talking to her in gibberish, watching Emma's face light up.
"Thanks," Sarah said, taking a sip of water.
"I was fully prepared with a crying mess-but... Emma barely cries. She sleep the entire night just fine." Astrid looked up, her face matching the stereotypical complexion of a grandmothers.
"She's just like you when you were a baby." Her mother said, sharing a smile. Astrid put Emma down in her playpen, allowing the young infant to crawl around on her own.
"You got lucky." She said, pointing to Sarah.
"Your next kid is gonna be the devil incarnate." Sarah's gaze fell to the table, where she silently huffed. She never considered the possibility of Oliver and her trying for a second kid. Though, now that she was thinking about it, the reality of it didn't seem far fetched.
I didn't give him a son. Sarah thought to herself, quietly huffing.
He won't leave me alone until I do.
"How do you know?" Sarah asked, watching as her mother shrugged, a smile on her face.
"My older brother was the best child my parents ever had. Then aunt Sherylin, then me. I apparently was so bad they decided that three was enough." Sarah chuckled gently, beginning to tear at her fingers.
"But you only ever had me. Maybe it's different per generation." Astrid shrugged, glancing back at Emma who was still cooing and playing in the pen.
"All I know is that Emma's an angel. Maybe your next daughter will be one too." Sarah nodded, thinking about the possibility of having all girls. As she began to consider the concept a fear began to brew once again.
Oliver'll kill me if I don't give him a son.
The idea of having more children with him stuck in her mind. All the way to dinner where he ate silently, a scowl stuck on his face. Emma babbled and ate next to Sarah, who sat to the right of Oliver. The question conjuring in her mind seemed to spill over. Then, she looked at Oliver, gripping her fork in such a tight grip she was sure the metal would bend.
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
