The small, pink wiggling bundle looks up at Olive, calming at her voice.
"There, there." Olive reaches into the crib, lifting the baby. There are a few moments of fumbling while Olive figures out the best way to hold it. She tries at first to support the head with her hand, but the baby’s arms are flailing out to the sides. Olive draws it into her chest, settling its head into the crook of her elbow. The baby likes that better; her limbs settle and it looks back at Olive.
"What shall I call you?" Olive glances around the room until her eyes land on a decorative pillow atop a rocking chair. The name Sophia is cross-stitched into the material with baby pink thread.
"Sophia, then. How old are we, Sophia? Three months? Four months?" Olive has a little experience with tending babies at Mrs. Moe's. They were far less annoying than the toddlers running around.
Sophia lays her head on Olive's shoulder, nibbling with soft gums. When the baby pulls her head back up, her cheek is smudged with Olive's soot.
Mouth turning down in a frown, Olive mumbles. "We can't have that." She goes back to the larger bedroom with the baby and makes a nest out of blankets and pillows on the bed. The purple sequined dress is returned to the closet and the doors shut tight. Olive sifts through a chest of drawers on the other side of the room for a simple white night gown. It is simple indeed, with only a small amount of lace around the hem, but it is by far the nicest piece of clothing Olive has ever owned. She drops her grimy clothes to the floor and slides the nightgown over her head. The hem of lace brushes the ground.
Sophia has already grown tired of exploring the pillowcases and whines out loud.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Sophie finds a pair of slippers under the bed and slides them on. She picks up the baby and pads into the kitchen, making quick work of a bottle, nipple, and stored formula in the icebox. She sits down in one of two chairs at the small kitchen table, watching Sophia suckle on the bottle.
The baby's eyes explore Olive's face, curious and wide. When Sophia's fingers find the small locket hanging from Olive's neck, her tensed features in her little face begin to relax. By the time most of the bottle is gone, Sophia is drifting to sleep. Olive walks the baby to her room, laying her gently down in the crib. She kisses Sophia on the forehead and turns out the light. Pausing to think of Charlie before she leaves the room, Olive turns to whisper. "We'll go get daddy in the morning."