Chapter Text
"Sofia Dorothy Khan-Smith, those boxes are not for climbing into," Yaz sighs, turning around at the clatter and catching her almost fourteen-month-old in the act of trying to join all their pans in a cardboard moving box.
She pauses in her movement, a cheeky grin on her face and one leg half into the box while the other wobbles precariously until she falls, thankfully backwards onto her bum and not forwards, face first into a pile of shiny metal.
"Come here," Yaz sighs, abandoning the tins she's trying to pack and scooping Sofia up.
"Come on, let's go play with your blocks! Or annoy the cat, or literally anything that isn't climbing into the boxes," she decides, plonking Sofia down on the floor with a few piles of toys to keep her occupied while she goes back to the packing.
However, ten minutes later when Pickles scatters Oreo’s dry food across the floor and Sofia falls over after trying to pull herself up on a cupboard door, Yaz concludes that maybe, just maybe, she might need a bit of a help. Jolie would be ideal, but she’s at work and so after shooing the cat away and moving Sofia away from the cupboards, she picks up her phone and dials her mum. She’s not at work and had already offered to help but Yaz had said no, feeling bad that her family were already giving up their Saturday to help them move.
“Hi Yaz love, how’s the packing going?” Najia asks after two rings, and Yaz sighs.
“Your granddaughter and the cat are in cahoots and they’re ganging up on me,” she grumbles, leaning back against the kitchen bench.
“What about Oreo?”
“He’s snoozing under Jo’s desk and huffing judgmentally every now and then.”
“Would you like me to come over and give you a hand?” Najia offers.
“If you don’t mind … oh Sofia! It took me ages to tetris that into there!” Yaz groans as another box gets tipped over and she triumphantly sticks a mixing bowl on her head.
“What did she do?” Najia asks, and Yaz can hear her trying not to laugh down the line.
“Tipped over a really carefully packed box and now she’s banging wooden spoons against a mixing bowl on her head.”
"I'll be over in a bit, is there anything you want me to bring?" Najia asks, and Yaz can hear her moving around and grabbing her keys.
“Umm no, although if you want food you’ll have to bring your own unfortunately, Jo extensively meal planned down to how many grapes I’m allowed at lunch and she’s already stressed enough as it is so I don’t want to interrupt her planning if I can help it,” Yaz explains, giving up on packing for now and sitting down on the floor with Sofia, pulling faces at her.
“Okay, I’ll be over soon, take a bit of a break sweetheart,” Najia replies before the line goes dead and Yaz puts her phone on the floor, pulling Sofia into her lap.
“What are we doing with this on your head?” She asks, raising her eyebrows at her daughter as she gives her a mostly gummy grin, two teeth on the bottom that finally broke through standing out.
“Oh, we’re putting it on my head now, are we?” Yaz asks as she’s hit in the face with the bowl in Sofia’s attempts to adorn her with a new hat.
“C’mere you silly banana,” Yaz laughs, gently prising the bowl out of Sofia’s hands and resting it on top of her head. Sofia is completely delighted by the image and starts banging the spoons against Yaz’s head, which lasts for all of about two minutes until she whacks Yaz in the nose, so they put a stop to it after that.
Trying her luck, Yaz decides to spend the time waiting for Najia to arrive by asking Sofia to pass her things to put back in the box that she had just tipped out. It’s not like they can make the mess worse this way, and by the time the buzzer goes they’ve managed to get a whole three things back into the box.
Balancing Sofia on her hip so she can’t get up to any more mischief, Yaz gets up to answer the door. As soon as she sees her Nani coming, Sofia yells excitedly and launches herself forward for a hug.
“Nnn! Nnn!” She yells, smushing her face into Najia’s shoulder and sighing happily.
“Little monkey … you’ve been causing chaos all morning and now you’re all butter wouldn’t melt!” Yaz teases, letting her mum in then giving her a brief hug of welcome.
“It’s because her Nani’s here!” Najia points out.
“And her Nani spoils her,” Yaz retorts.
“Which is exactly what grandparents are for — your Nani was exactly the same with you when you were a baby.”
Yaz doesn’t have a response to that and instead takes Najia’s coat then leads her through to the kitchen to help her out.
“Right, what do you want me to do?” She asks, keeping hold of Sofia so she can’t get into more stuff.
“Honestly, can you just entertain Sof for now? Then if I’m still a bit behind, would you mind helping me with stuff when she goes down for a nap? It’s a bit complicated though, Jo has a whole system and I’m not entirely sure why she wants things done this way but I’m not questioning her — she’s moved house way more often than I have and I don’t want to stress her out either,” Yaz explains.
“That’s absolutely fine love, Sofia and I can go and read some stories, how about that?” Najia says before disappearing into the nursery with her granddaughter, leaving Yaz in relative peace and quiet for a bit so she can actually get some packing done.
It proves highly effective because within just half an hour she has everything in the kitchen packed up. Well, everything without a little yellow sticker on it, which was Jolie’s way of saying it was something they’d still need to use before they move. She’s just putting the last box in the utility room and closing the door so Sofia can’t get to it when they appear in the living room, Sofia wiggling around in Najia’s hold until she gives up and puts her down on the floor.
“Kitchen’s as done as it can be,” Yaz announces, leaning against the wall with a yawn.
“Well done, love. Do you want me to make lunch while you take a few minutes to relax?” Najia offers.
“You don’t have to do that, Mum, I can make lunch,” Yaz protests, but the idea of sitting down for five minutes is really tempting.
“Don’t be silly Yaz, I want to help. Sit down and play with Sofia for a bit and I’ll get everything sorted,” she insists and Yaz knows that there’s no point in arguing, so she flops down on the sofa in defeat. It does feel nice to sit though, her back is hurting from all the bending, stretching and heavy lifting.
“Stuff for mine and Sof’s lunch is on the top shelf of the fridge in the middle and then the stuff on the bench by the kettle there,” she explains, watching Sofia chew on a teething ring. It’s helping her slow down a bit, she feels like she hasn’t stopped at all in the past couple of weeks between work and Sofia still having so many problems with her eating and Jolie being stressed about moving and the actual process of moving itself. And now that they get the keys tomorrow, she just wants to curl up in a ball and sleep for a bit, not get used to a whole new house.
It’s nice to have her lunch made for her though, even if it’s just a simple chicken salad wrap and some crisps. But the relaxation doesn’t last long because of course Sofia starts throwing a tantrum about her food. The crackers, the cheese, nor the banana is acceptable, but she does nibble a little bit at the apple and accepts a few spoonfuls of yoghurt from Yaz before she decides she’s had enough.
“Come on then missy, let’s go and have a little snooze,” Yaz says tiredly, bunching up the used baby wipe and unfastening the bib from around Sofia’s neck to lift her out of the highchair.
“I’ll clean up in here,” Najia offers.
“Thanks.”
Sofia is resistant to the idea of a nap first but as soon as Yaz snuggles her tightly in the rocking chair, swaying back and forth the one-year-old is out like a light, her nose whistling.
“Sweet dreams, Sof,” Yaz whispers, tentatively standing up and laying her down in her cot before tiptoeing out the room and pulling the door to behind her.
A cup of tea greets her as she walks back into the living room and she smiles gratefully, accepting the cup from her mum.
“I presume Jolie didn’t ration tea? Or biscuits?”
Yaz chuckles at that, sitting down on the sofa and tucking her feet under. “Definitely not, she needs an endless supply of the stuff or she’d simply keel over.”
Najia laughs back, sipping her own tea and helping herself to a biscuit but Yaz can tell she wants to say something.
“So, how are things?” She probes after a couple of minutes and Yaz smirks to herself. So predictable.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know things are just a lot right now, how are you feeling about moving?” Najia prompts, and Yaz sighs, she has a lot of emotions about moving.
“I dunno … it’s a lot. I’m excited for a new start, a change, of course. I’m excited to have so much more space and to be able to actually own the place and make whatever changes we like. I’m excited to live in a quieter area and to have a back garden that Sofia and Oreo can run around in. But I’m scared to,” she admits quietly.
“What’s scaring you?”
Yaz shrugs, running her thumbs around the rim of her mug.
“I’m worried about Jo and how she’s coping with it all, she doesn’t like change at the best of times. And I dunno … we’ve lived in this flat for so long — since we got engaged really. So I think I’m just scared to be in a new place that I don’t know.”
“That makes sense, love. You’ve lived here a long time, you were living here when you got married, got pregnant with Sofia, brought her home, so it makes sense. But I think you all need to move somewhere, and this new house is going to be your forever home, and once all your stuff is in there it’ll start feeling a whole lot more like yours,” Najia reassures.
“Yeah,” Yaz smiles. She does think that’s part of the problem, because they’ve only seen the house with other people’s stuff in, it’s hard to imagine herself and her family living there.
“And we can’t keep living here much longer really, it’s not practical for Jo and at some point she would end up all-but housebound,” Yaz admits.
“Has she thought any more about a wheelchair?” Najia probes, and Yaz shakes her head.
“No, I think she struggled to think about it when we were still living here because it just wouldn’t be very practical, and then moving and applying for the PhD has just taken up so much of her energy. But she submitted her application last week and obviously we’re moving this weekend so hopefully it’s something I can convince her to think about more.”
“That’s good, love. Just take things one step at a time, and you’ll both manage just fine,” Najia says, reaching across the sofa to squeeze her daughter’s knee tightly.
"I can't believe this is it," Yaz murmurs quietly as they pull the car to a stop in the driveway. Their driveway.
"Me neither, but we did it," Jolie grins in response.
"Shall we go in?"
Jolie nods enthusiastically, getting out of the car and then waiting for Yaz to get Sofia out the back. She fidgets with her keys nervously in her hand, running her thumb over the brand new one in excitement.
Once they’re standing side by side at the front door, Yaz places her hand over Jolie’s and they slot the key into the lock together and twist it, Jolie then pushing down the handle and letting their front door swing open with a slight squeak.
The porch is cold, which is understandable but stepping through the second door into the hallway is immediately warmer, despite the fact that nobody has been in the house for about a week.
“Yaz?”
“Yeah?”
“We own a house!” Jolie almost squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I know! This is the most grown-up I’ve ever felt,” Yaz replies, her voice echoing slightly as they head into the empty living and dining area. They can see out through the conservatory into the back garden and Yaz can’t wait to get all their stuff in and make the most of having an outdoor space. But first they’ve got a lot of decorating and unpacking to do. They’d already had someone come in during the week previous to replace all the old, worn-out carpets, with wooden floors in the communal spaces and fluffy, plush carpets in the bedrooms. But everything else is up to them, including painting the walls, deep cleaning, putting up baby gates and bringing all their furniture in.
“You mean getting married and having a baby didn’t do that?” Jolie snorts, walking over to look out the front window.
“Well yeah, but this is really just like, the last bit of the puzzle, you know? And I’ve never actually lived in a house, it was always flats growing up then we’ve always rented a flat together. So I’m excited,” she reveals, joining Jolie and resting her head on her shoulder.
“Oh yeah, you never have. I mean, it’s not that much different to living in a flat, you’ve just got more space, and more than one floor usually. And you get a back garden.”
“We do. I can’t believe this house was still on the market, to think we looked at this as a very tentative maybe all those months ago then it was still available when we were actually looking to buy,” Yaz says.
“I know, it was meant to be. Shall we have a little walk around and show Sof her room and stuff before we take her to Frances’ so we can get on with stuff? We’ve got a heck of a lot to do,” Jolie suggests.
“Absolutely,” Yaz agrees.
They go out into the back garden through the conservatory first, sliding back the heavy glass door and stepping onto the sunny patio. They have enough space for an outdoor table and possibly even a barbecue, and then it steps up slightly into an expansive grassy space with a large tree in one corner and a small shed in the other.
Next they head into the kitchen, although it looks a bit strange because there’s no fridge. The old one had been very well-loved, the door didn’t open properly, and it had generally seen better days, so they had decided to replace it. The kitchen itself is quite nice though, not entirely to their taste, but it’s not too old fashioned and hopefully painting the cupboard doors and drawers and scrubbing the floor tiles will make it feel like new again.
Upstairs is looking a lot better, although they definitely want to do some painting up here. They even want to get a bit creative and paint a simple mountain mural on Sofia’s bedroom wall to really make the space special. It’s not a huge room by any means but it has a large window that looks out over the back garden and so gets lots of sun. The bathroom needs a good deep scrub like the kitchen, but it’s fairly spacious and the grab bars from the previous residents are going to be a huge help.
The master bedroom is just as big as they need it to be, and it gets the light in the morning, which Jolie knows she’ll love. The office is tiny, a box room really, but Jolie is so, so excited to have a proper office again, just having a desk in the living room for the last year had gotten really hard. And providing she gets the PhD place, she’s most definitely going to need that quiet space to study.
“Shall we get her to Frances’ now so we can get on with this painting and cleaning?” Yaz says as they make their way back downstairs and to the front door.
“Yeah … I really can’t be bothered with all this work, but it’ll be worth it, and a lot easier without this little bull in a china shop,” Jolie sighs, slipping her fingers under Sofia’s t-shirt to tickle her tummy.
“It will, cause this is our house now, and once we’ve got all the donkey work done we can make it all ours,” Yaz says, reaching up slightly to kiss her wife.
“Well, that was the last box in our car,” Yaz announces two mornings later, her voice echoing as she walks back into their living room to sit down next to Jolie and Sofia on the floor.
“It was?”
“It was,” Yaz confirms, resting her chin on Jolie’s shoulder while Sofia sits on her lap, snuggling in. She’d been up most of the night with what they presume was an upset tummy, or teething, or both, and she’s remarkably sleepy now. As much as they hate seeing her poorly, hopefully it should make today a bit easier if she’s not trying to tear the new house apart.
“Shall we take one last walk around before we go to the new place?”
“You mean our place?” Jolie corrects and Yaz nods.
“Yeah … that’s going to take some getting used to. But come on, let’s do a little walk around, I don’t want the movers to be sitting in our driveway for too long,” Yaz says, standing up.
“Yaz?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to need to give me a hand up, I’ve got no furniture to use,” Jolie laughs and Yaz snorts, reaching down for Sofia then giving Jolie a hand up, making sure she’s steady with her crutch before she lets go of her.
“Remember when Pickles destroyed all our plates when we were trying to have some quiet time?” Jolie laughs.
“Yeah then you came into the kitchen wearing nothing but your huge clunky boots and your toy story alien underpants,” Yaz giggles, bumping her hip lightly against her wife’s in a teasing manner.
“Well I didn’t have a lot of options!” Jolie protests.
“That’s my second-favourite memory in this kitchen. The first is when Sofia was about 12 days old and I was pacing around with her in here because she wouldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. But then you woke up anyway and you came in here and put on some music and we all slow-danced and it just made me fall in love with you even more,” Yaz says, leaning up to kiss Jolie lightly and adjusting Sofia in her hold.
“Aww. You know what my favourite memory in this flat is?”
“What?”
“When we were sat on our bed and we read the positive pregnancy test and discovered that this little cutie pie was going to be in our lives,” Jolie sighs, ruffling Sofia’s curls lightly and making her huff out a small laugh before resting her head against Yaz’s shoulder again.
“That was amazing too. A lot has happened in this flat; we got married living here, we got Pickles, we brought Sofia back here. A lot has happened here…” Yaz trails off, getting teary and she’s grateful when Jolie wraps an arm around her waist and gently tugs her closer, placing a soft kiss on her scalp.
“I know love, so many things happened in this flat, and I’m really going to miss it too. But we’re outgrowing this place, and this new house, it’s perfect for us,” Jolie reassures.
“It’s just hard to leave,” Yaz sniffs and Jolie hums in agreement.
“It is, this was a really special place for us. But now, we can make this new place special, because we’ll get to watch Sofia grow up there.”
“We will … shall we go now?” Yaz suggests and Jolie nods, letting her lead the way out of the flat, closing their front door behind them for the last time. They head down to the car together, hand in hand, turning around for one last look at the building before they leave.
“We’ve got this, together,” Jolie says softly in Yaz’s ear as she sniffs, wiping her eyes with her spare hand.
“Together,” she echoes back.
Yaz has accidentally walled herself into a fort of boxes a few hours later when she hears the doorbell go and she groans, trying to figure out which boxes she can move without causing them all to topple to the ground.
“I’ll get it!” Jolie yells and Yaz sighs in relief, continuing to survey the kitchen cupboards to figure out the best place to put stuff. Although they’ll probably rearrange it all a million times within the next month or so until they’re settled and they’ve figured out the flow of their kitchen, and the whole house really.
A few minutes later Sonya, Ryan and Jolie appear in the kitchen doorway, Sonya wrinkling her nose.
“This whole place stinks of paint,” Sonya complains, and Yaz laughs, putting the toaster down on the bench and straightening up, rubbing her back.
“Well we did spend the last two days painting Son, but we’ve got all the windows and doors open so it’s airing out,” she explains.
“I love your curtains you’ve picked though, that sage green is gorgeous, it really brightens up the room,” Sonya compliments and Yaz grins, accepting Jolie’s hand to step out of her accidental box fort.
“Thanks, it took us ages to pick it out, but it looks nice with our sofas. Which are looking really inviting right about now,” Yaz sighs, pressing her face into Jolie’s shoulder and yawning impressively.
“Nope, an hour more of unpacking then you can have a sit down,” Jolie reprimands, shrugging gently to dislodge Yaz.
“Where do you want us then? Just tell us what we need to do and we’ll do it,” Ryan asks, surveying the room.
“Well we’re working on downstairs right now because Sof is having a nap upstairs in her new room since we got the cot set up first, so hopefully when she wakes up we’ve got most stuff away down here and she can play relatively safely while we tackle the upstairs,” Jolie explains.
“Son, can you help me with the kitchen if Ryan helps Jo with the living room?” Yaz suggests and they nod, splitting up to get stuck into their respective tasks.
Waiting until Jolie is out of earshot, Yaz lets out a long sigh and leans against the wall, rubbing her eyes.
“You okay, sis?”
“I’m so tired … Sof was up half the night, and this moving house thing takes so much energy and Jo’s struggling with it, she’s all over the place and it’s just a lot to juggle at once,” she sighs, drumming her fingers against the cupboard doors and looking at the mess of the kitchen in despair.
“I know Yaz, but you’re doing really well, and you’ve got me and Ryan here to help now, then Mum and Dad are coming tomorrow to help with the finer details like hanging pictures up and stuff like that, aren’t they?” She confirms.
“Yeah.”
“That’s good. Now I reckon between us we can get all these boxes unpacked in an hour, it doesn’t have to be perfect or neat and tidy because you’ll keep rearranging it until you figure out the flow of your kitchen. Now come on, let’s get going,” Sonya encourages, clapping her hands together and opening the box nearest to her, starting to sort things into rough piles on the benches of what’s what.
Yaz does have to admit that getting everything out the boxes then flattening the cardboard and moving it out the way does help the task seem a bit less overwhelming, and between them they manage to work quickly. They’re just filling the last cupboard with the pet supplies when Yaz hears a cry over the baby monitor and she straightens up, looking at Sofia over the little camera. She’s pulled herself up on the bars of her cot and she’s reaching through the bars, yelling something incoherent.
“Go get her, I’ll finish this then we can break for a drink and a snack,” Sonya instructs and Yaz nods, picking her way out of the mess and going through the living room to get to the stairs.
“Oh, good progress in here,” she comments, pausing for a moment as Jolie shakes out their beloved throw to drape over the back of one sofa. They’ve got the fish tank set up, it’s just lacking the fish which are currently hanging out in a small tank at Najia and Hakim’s. They’ve also got their new rug down on the floor as well as the TV set up on top of the unit and Sofia’s toy baskets sorted into the cubbies.
“Thanks, I think we’re getting somewhere, we can come and help you in the kitchen in a bit,” she replies, straightening out the edges of the throw.
“Oh, we’re basically done, I was just going upstairs to get Sof cause she’s awake then we were thinking about having a tea and biscuit break.”
“Good plan, I could do with a biscuit.”
Yaz rolls her eyes affectionately then slips out the room, running up the stairs but then slowing down as she nears Sofia’s room, opening the door with a slight creak and tiptoeing over.
“Mu! Mu!” Sofia shouts, reaching through the bars on the side of her cot currently in the middle of the room and pressing her face against them, smushing her cheeks as she tries to reach for something.
“Did you drop Flopsy? Is that what got you so upset? But look at you having a nap like a big girl in your new room!” Yaz coos, turning off the white noise app on her phone that she’d left on the floor since they can’t find the white-noise machine and handing Flopsy back to Sofia.
“Come on then, shall we go and see Mammy and Auntie Sonya and Uncle Ryan for a biscuit?” she says, lifting Sofia up and quickly checking she’s not stinky before they go back downstairs.
"Mama! Mama!" Sofia crows excitedly as soon as they get downstairs reaching her arms out for a cuddle from Jolie. She settles herself on the sofa first before accepting her daughter, cuddling her close in her sleepy, post-nap state.
Leaving them to it, Yaz heads into the kitchen with Ryan to make rounds of tea and fetch a packet of biscuits, which takes her a while because she's already forgotten where she's put everything. Soon though, they're all settled on the sofas together for a short break, everyone with cups of tea and Sofia snuggled into the crook of Jolie’s arm with her sippy cup of water and half a rich tea biscuit to work at. Her whole four teeth don't help a whole lot.
"Have you heard back about the PhD application yet?" Sonya asks, taking a sip of her tea.
Jolie shakes her head, taking Sofia’s cup when it's handed to her so Sofia can work away at her biscuit. "No, they said it could take a little while since I've applied for the January start. But it's the only opening they have to start at that time, if I don't get it they might reconsider me for September next year, but I just don't know," she replies, shrugging.
"But if they like the look of your proposal they'll invite you in for an interview, right?" Ryan confirms and Jolie nods.
"Yeah, then I'll have to get through that … watch it all happen when we're all away up in Northumberland for the long weekend," Jolie laughs.
"Probably, but I'm really looking forward to that, I really need a holiday," Sonya groans.
"You two just went to Greece for a week! And you don't have a small child to run around after … wait Jo I think she's throwing up!" Yaz breaks off, panicked, and puts her cup down abruptly. Jolie does the same, sitting Sofia up properly and leaning her forwards and she coughs and splutters.
"You're okay sweetpea, it's okay," Jolie soothes, rubbing her daughter’s back in concern as she brings up her lunch and possibly her breakfast too, not that she ate much to start out with.
"Have a little drink," Yaz encourages once Sofia is done, holding her cup to her lips but she whines and shakes her head, pushing it away. Yaz tries not to cry. Sofia is so unwell but they just keep getting told again and again to wait, that it'll sort itself out. But Yaz knows that even if that's true, she can't go on like this much longer.
"I'll go change her, she's covered in sick," Yaz says, picking their daughter up and carrying her upstairs to try and find some clean clothes. She scrubs her eyes furiously as she ascends the stairs and heads into Sofia’s room, first taking all her clothes off and letting her crawl around in her nappy since her room isn’t properly unpacked yet.
Eventually she finds something suitable, although it doesn’t exactly match. The turquoise and white striped leggings with the orange polka dot t-shirt is a bit much but they’re clean and that’s all that really matters. They’re also designed for a 10-month-old and considering Sofia is almost fourteen months old, that’s worrying even if she is on the petite side.
“What are we going to do with you, hmm?” Yaz muses as she scoops up Sofia, laying her down on the floor to start tugging her leggings on.
“You never want to eat anything and even when we do convince you to eat, most of it comes up, or down, depending on the day. But the doctors are reluctant to do anything, and I don’t know why,” she whispers, standing Sofia up on her wobbly legs and letting her hold onto her shoulders so she can tug the leggings over her bottom. Once she’s got the t-shirt on, she wipes her eyes once more then heads back downstairs.
“Oh, that’s quite the outfit you’ve got going on there Sofia, the odd socks really make it,” Sonya teases, opening her arms to accept her niece for hugs.
“We’re working with what we’ve got,” Yaz protests, picking up her mug to drain the last of her now lukewarm tea.
“And speaking of, bedrooms are the next priority. And the bathroom, everything else can wait until tomorrow. And we can’t even do the office properly yet or the conservatory because we don’t have the big bits of furniture,” Yaz explains.
“Right then, let’s get moving.”
****
Several hours later, they’ve got the large majority of the house unpacked and they’re lounging on the sofa after a takeout pizza dinner, thoroughly exhausted while they watch Sofia play with some wooden cars on the floor.
Jolie is in a not-inconsiderable amount of pain too after probably biting off more than she can chew but they can’t find the heat packs anywhere so she’s not having much luck.
“I can go look again,” Yaz offers when Jolie shifts and hisses in discomfort but she shakes her head, resettling herself on the sofa with a grimace.
“They could be anywhere Yaz, it would take you ages. I’m sure we’ll find them tomorrow when we get most of the rest of the stuff unpacked, they’ve probably just ended up in the wrong box,” she shrugs.
“Would a pillow under your knee help at all?” Yaz suggests.
“Maybe.”
“Worth a try,” Yaz shrugs, getting up from the sofa to find the pillow they usually use to support her knee and gently lifting her leg up to ease the pillow under.
“Better?” Yaz asks and Jolie nods, even though it hasn’t really done anything yet. Although it has relieved some of the pressure a bit, which she’s sure will help in time. For now though, she rests her head against the side of the sofa and watches fondly as Sofia plays with her cars, pulling herself up on the side of the other sofa to push her cars along it. This moving thing has completely exhausted her, both physically and mentally, but seeing Sofia play so happily in their new house makes it all somewhat worth it.
“Sof! Sof!” She calls softly, capturing her daughter’s attention and watching her turn around on wobbly legs.
“Hi sweetpea! Have you got your cars?” She grins.
“Mama! Cuh! Mama!” She babbles, holding up the flower printed car and waving it around in the air.
“Can Mama see your car?” Jolie asks, holding out her hands to encourage Sofia to come closer, fully expecting her to either furniture-surf or flop down on her bum and crawl. But to her complete shock, she takes a step. Unaided.
Then another.
And another.
“Oh my god she’s walking,” Yaz breathes, gripping Jolie’s hand tightly as she watches, not wanting to disturb the deep look of concentration on their daughter’s face. She’s only maybe five Sofia-sized steps away but it looks like she’s running a marathon and they both hold their breath as she wobbles, almost tipping over backwards. But she doesn’t, steadying herself and slowly toddling further towards them, holding her car proudly in front of her.
“Come on sweetpea, you can do it,” Jolie encourages, opening her arms and grinning in pride as their daughter takes two more determined steps before falling forward into Jolie’s arms, immediately being thrown up into the air.
“You walked! Look at you, you walked!” Jolie exclaims, tears running down her face as she sits her daughter on her lap and accepts the car that’s being pushed into her hands; that was the whole reason she toddled over of course.
“You’re getting all grown up,” Yaz blubbers too, nudging Jolie’s hip so she can squeeze onto the edge of the sofa beside them, reaching out to squeeze one of Sofia’s thighs. Sofia of course doesn’t care at all and instead leans forward, smushing her face against Jolie’s chest for a cuddle.
“Oh did all that big girl walking tire you out?” Jolie giggles, adjusting her so they’re both more comfortable and running her fingers lightly through the curls at the nape of her neck that have come loose from her little space buns that her hair is finally long enough for.
“Snoo, snoo,” she mumbles with a sigh, wriggling around a little.
“You want a snooze?” Jolie giggles, rubbing her back and Sofia snuggles in closer.
“I’m glad we’re here, in this house, you know. It feels right,” Yaz says softly a few minutes later, resting her chin on Jolie’s shoulder.
“I’m glad we’re here too, Yaz. We need this.”