(WANDAS POV)
I woke up early the next morning, my mind still running with worry about Meredith. The soft light of dawn was just starting to filter through the curtains as I carefully extricated myself from Natasha's embrace, trying not to wake her.
As I made my way towards the stairs, I paused outside Meredith's door, listening for any signs of distress. All was quiet, and I hoped she was finally getting some peaceful sleep. She deserved it.
In the kitchen, I started the coffee maker and began gathering ingredients for breakfast. I wanted to make something special, something comforting. Pancakes had seemed to go over well yesterday, so I decided on French toast - my mother's recipe, a childhood favorite that always made me feel cared for. As I whisked together eggs, milk, and cinnamon, my mind wandered to Meredith. How could we show her that she was truly wanted here? That this wasn't just another temporary stop?
I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear Natasha come up behind me until her arms wrapped around my waist.
"Morning, love," she murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "You're up early."
I leaned back into her embrace. "Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about Meredith."
Natasha hummed in understanding. "French toast, huh? Pulling out the big guns."
I chuckled softly. "I just want her to feel... I don't know, cared for, I guess."
"She will," Natasha assured me, giving me a squeeze before moving to pour herself some coffee. "It's just going to take time."
I nodded, turning back to my task. "I know. I just hope we're doing the right things."
As I dipped bread slices into the egg mixture, I heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Meredith appeared in the doorway, looking small and uncertain in the oversized pajamas we had given her.
"Good morning, sweetheart," I said, trying to keep my voice light and cheerful. "Did you sleep okay?"
Meredith shrugged, not quite meeting my eyes. "Mhm, I guess."
"We're having French toast for breakfast," I told her. "Would you like to help? You could sprinkle the cinnamon sugar if you'd like."
For a moment, I thought she might refuse, but then she nodded hesitantly. "Okay."
She walks over and I hand her the small container of cinnamon sugar. I resisted the urge to pepper her with questions or try to fill the silence with chatter. Instead, I focused on creating a calm, comfortable atmosphere. I watch as she slowly sprinkles the sugar on top of the French toast, I pay close attention to her features, I notice the small bags under her eyes and the scar about the size of a needle on her cheek. she looks at me and I'm quick to look away, feeling a bit embarrassed for staring. As she puts the last bit of sugar on the toast I take the plates and carry them to the table.
When we sat down to eat, I noticed Meredith picking at her food again. My heart ached, wanting desperately to find the right words to make her feel safe and comfortable.
"Meredith," I said gently, "I want you to know that there's no pressure here. You don't have to eat if you're not hungry. And you don't have to talk if you don't want to. We're just happy to have you here with us."
She looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "You... you are?"
"Absolutely," Natasha chimed in. "We meant what we said before. We want this to work, for as long as you want to be here."
Meredith's eyes darted between us, a mix of hope and wariness in her expression. "Even if... even if I'm not perfect? Even if I'm not the person you want me to be?"
YOU ARE READING
Two mothers| nat x Wanda mothers
RandomThis story is about a young girl named Meredith Hayes who has been adopted by Wanda and Nat, Meredith has been in and out of foster care since she was 7 years old and now at the age of 15 she may have found people who actually care about her. A/N: s...