Santana sat cross-legged on the floor, the colorful blocks spread out in front of her, forming a miniature cityscape. Her goddaughter sat beside her, her tiny hands reaching eagerly for the blocks as she giggled with excitement. She couldn't help but smile as she watched Lucy's enthusiasm, her heart warming at the sight of the little girl's joy.
The memory of the day Isaac and Quinn had asked her to be Lucy's godmother flashed through her mind. She had definitely not cried. Unlike some children who seemed to constantly demand attention, her goddaughter was content in her own world, easily amused and effortlessly endearing.
She had never considered herself particularly maternal but there was something undeniably special about Lucy that melted even the toughest of defenses. Maybe, just maybe, she thought with a small smile, she didn't dislike children as much as she had once believed and as Lucy beamed up at her, her eyes sparkling with delight, Santana knew one thing for certain: being her godmother was a privilege she would cherish forever.
"Everything okay?"
"Do you think I'm doing a good job as a mother?"
"Are you being serious right now?" she exclaimed, setting down a block to give her friend her full attention. "Why would you even doubt that?"
"It's just... Isaac seems to have this special bond with her. When he holds her, she stops crying, but with me..."
"Listen, don't torture yourself over this. It's completely normal for girls to have a stronger attachment to their dads, especially at this age. I never let go of my father when I was Lucy's age according to my mother. That doesn't mean you're a bad mother."
Quinn leaned back, her gaze drifting to the scattered blocks on the floor as she shared her thoughts with Santana. Her daughter played nearby, her small hands working tirelessly to dismantle the block castle she had built.
"Also, he gets up every night, and I hardly even notice. Many times I've found them both sleeping on the living room couch, and she has her crib in our room. What's the point of the crib and our bed if they always end up sleeping everywhere but where they should?"
"Are you...Are you complaining about sleeping instead of getting up at ungodly hours because your daughter is crying? I think you're the first mother I've heard complaining about that."
"Yeah, I suppose I am."
Santana turned her attention back to Lucy, handing another block to her goddaughter, who smiled happily as she took it. "Have you talked about it with him?"
"He says he doesn't care and that I should rest. According to him, now that he's off-season, he has time to spend with her. His coach has given him permission to skip summer training camp."
"Quinn, it's July, relax a little. Enjoy your daughter before you get swamped with Yale stuff. I've heard third year is the hardest. How is Lover Boy going to do it? Newark is not precisely close."
Quinn sighed, her gaze softening as she watched Lucy's curls bounce with every movement. "Isaac is determined to make it work. He's planning to commute from New Haven to Newark every day. It's a two-hour train ride, but he says he'll get up early and come back in the afternoon when he finishes practice."
"Every day?"
"Every day."
Santana chuckled, shaking her head incredulously. "You know something, Cap," she said, shifting the conversation entirely, "I think you're really crazy for telling Coach Sue that you wanted her to personally get you back to your pre-pregnancy weight. Have you forgotten the torture she put us through back in McKinley?"
YOU ARE READING
The Story of Us - Quinn Fabray
Romance"Isaac?" He's grown, she noted. "Hey," he greets nonchalantly brushing sweaty brown curls off his forehead. He bends down slightly to bridge the gap between their heights. "You should look for a better quarterback; the current one is for lack of a b...
