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7 AM:
Her beauty sleep is interrupted by a loud automatic voice.
"Hi! My name is Kiki! Let's learn!"
She groans and buries her face into her satin pillow (They don't leave marks on her skin). Her husband nudges her.
"A is for apple!"
Puck nudges her again.
"B is for baby!"
Santana finally realizes that all this high-pitched ruckus is caused by the stupid dog toy that's sitting on their bedroom floor somewhere. Kerry must have dragged it in here last night when she was taking a bath in their bedroom. It's a stupid toy really. As if Rachel Berry, the master baby gift-giver that she is, really thinks a singing dog will get Kerry to read. But because it is a stupid toy, it doesn't know when to stop.
He nudges her one last time, groaning into his own pillow.
"Okay, fine! I'll get it," she snaps. Naturally, he should be the one to get up because she is the one carrying his child. But no.
She gets up, picks up the stuffed dog by its ear, and in her slumber-laced haze, she swings it against the wall, where it slams into the wood with a thud, then slides to the ground silently.
Puck jolts awake and looks at her with a little bit of fear in his eyes. She smirks, because that finally gets his attention.
10 AM:
By ten 'o clock, all signs of her morning frustration have dissipated, because she needs to be very inconspicuous today.
Today, she is on a secret mission.
It has been one she has been planning for weeks now, and she needs to get it done before she's too pregnant to carry out the whole thing. She has told nobody, except her priest, who frowns upon her lies and deception, but ultimately agrees with her intentions.
She grabs the diaper bag that doesn't really hold diapers anymore, fills it with snacks this time for bribery, and picks up her daughter, making a getaway for their car.
Today, she is getting her daughter baptized.
See, she and Puck have this half-assed-I-don't-give-a-fuck thing going about religion that's not really sacrilegious but nowhere near devout. Their family doesn't have a church or a synagogue, but Santana has a church and Puck has a synagogue. Kerry has nothing, except a mural of the saints on her wall and a pair of Star-of-David leggings.
"Mommy, where are we going?" Kerry asks.
"We're…going on an adventure. But it's secret," she answers carefully, even though Kerry probably doesn't even understand what she's saying, and clicks the car seat into place.
"What's secret?"
"It means you can't tell anybody about it. Not even Daddy. There's going to be magic."
That seems to soothe Kerry, as she is now more concerned about the neighbor's dog that has wandered into their yard. Santana shoos it away, because she is not about to clean up some other person's dogshit.
Santana thinks it might be a missed opportunity if Kerry doesn't get baptized, because what if one day, Kerry decides to be Christian? But by that time, she'll already be bathing in sin. So really, all she wants is for her baby to be as pure as she thinks she is, only in God's eyes too.
And besides, if she waits any longer, Kerry might spill the beans.
1 PM:
The baptism was a success. Kerry didn't even squirm when the holy water was dripping all over. She was a natural. Even her priest, who has never ever ever liked Santana, said so. That was a little bit satisfying. Now that that's all settled though, Santana can go on living her normal life, with her normal peace of mind, because in reality, nothing has changed.
When she says that, she means that nothing has changed.
Kerry is sitting in her high chair again, even though they've been trying to wean her off of it, but it just makes lunchtime so much easier. That is, when Kerry actually wants to eat. At least she's gotten over her one-color-a-day diet.
And Santana? She's covered in grime as usual. All she wants is one day without oatmeal or mashed bananas in her hair. One. Fucking. Day.
What Santana wants, Santana gets.
4 PM:
There is not a single teenager in this town she trusts with her baby. Not a single one. She remembers being a teenager. She's not going to have any of that around Kerry.
She already called her husband at work. Her exact words were, "I'm going crazy. We're going out tonight. Start Yelp-ing restaurants because I'm not taking anything less than 4 stars. Wait, make it 4.5."
And so, she is last-minute lugging her child and her child's stylishly Pottery Barn Kids monogrammed overnight bag to their best friends' house.
She says "theirs" because Santana's found that when you gets married and has a child, all your friends end up being people who are also married with children. This way, they can dump their kids on other people when they want to go out, and vice-versa.
It's rather convenient.
And it's more convenient that her and Puck's number one coupley friends are Quinn and Finn. Yes, Santana will not leave her daughter with the seventeen year old that lives down the street, but with her once boyfriend-stealing, teenage mother, bitter rival frenemy. It's kind of strange how they've all slept with each other and taken each other's virginity and whatnot.
But that's all in the past.
Santana slams the knocker on the Hudson house, and Finn comes to the door. She's kind of jealous of the fact that Quinn's husband is home so early, but she supposes when you're your own boss, you can do whatever the fuck you want.
"Hey, Santana. Sorry, Quinn's tied up with something in the kitchen. Do you want to come in?"
"No, that's fine. Just tell her I'll call her tomorrow and thank her for those preschool recommendations. Thanks so much for taking Kerry so last minute." She shoves the baby bag in his face, and Finn moves it next to all the neatly-lined Baby Nikes in their foyer. He takes Kerry next.
"We get it. I'm sure you'll be doing the same soon. And we're still on for brunch next Sunday?"
Oh, god. Brunch. Quinn wants to introduce her to some moms in her playgroup. They call themselves Yummy Mummies. She needs to get this postponed. Preferably until never.
"Right. Brunch."
"Yeah, should be fun."
"Bullshit." Santana smirks, and waits for him to crack, because she knows he hates those things as much as she does. Finn laughs after a few seconds, and he's got that stupid dopey look on his face, even though it's definitely not high school anymore.
"Okay, say bye-bye to Mommy, Kerry. See you tomorrow," Santana says before things get uncomfortable, leaning forward to kiss Kerry.
"Bye, Mommy!" Kerry says, and like that, Santana has left her most prized possession with the people she used to hate the most. And she doesn't have a damn reservation about the whole thing.
It's times like these when Santana is really glad it's not high school anymore.
7 PM:
She spends the rest of the afternoon ridding their house of all things baby. Puck's called and said he'd be home a little later, which Santana knows is code for buying flowers and such. Puck is not a romantic guy (and Santana is not a romantic gal) but when he chooses to be, he does a pretty damn good job.
She tucks the high chair in the closet, picks up all the toys on the floor, and closes the door to Kerry's room. Basically, other than the family photos tacked on the walls, one would think this was just the house of Puck and Santana, two unattached lovers.
Tonight, maybe they can be just Puck and Santana again. Just this once. Because you see, Mama is going to get her kicks tonight.
10 PM:
She was right about the flowers. He bought her a bird of paradise, because he thinks roses are boring. She agrees. The restaurant is fine, there's dim lighting and nice ambience, but Santana doesn't really care right now, because she's really really hungry. Because she's pregnant or because its ten 'o clock? She doesn't know.
Their waiter comes by to take their orders. Santana wants something spicy, but she knows that might piss off their kid inside, so she settles for grilled salmon. Puck, because he is a gluttonous bastard, gets some sort of pasta.
"Alright, water for the lady, and anything to drink for you tonight, Sir?" the pretentious waiter asks Puck.
"Yeah, I'll have some scotch, on the rocks," he answers, but stops when he notices that she's glaring at him.
"He'll have water," she interrupts, giving her sweetest smile to the waiter, and Puck leans back in his chair and groans.
If she doesn't get to drink for the next seven months, neither can he.
1 AM:
She knows she's getting too old to go clubbing, but that doesn't mean she's any happier when her husband drags her home because "it's getting late." And she was just remembering how to salsa too.
But that doesn't stop her from initiating sex the moment they step through the door, because even if she can't party, drink, or have any fun, for the first time in a long time, she feels like herself again, and she's not about to let this moment slip away.
4 AM:
She sleeps soundly that night, as she should, because after everything that happened today, she is exhausted.
And to think she has to get up tomorrow morning and do it all again.
7 AM:
Her beauty sleep is interrupted by a loud automatic voice.
"Hi! My name is Kiki! Let's learn!"
"A is for apple!"
"B is for baby!"
She groans. He groans.
Seriously?
Only people without kids buy things like this.
So? Let me know what you think! xoxo.