Fareeha was a good baby. She didn’t cry much except she her diaper needed changed. She slept through the night, and napped during the day…which was a godsend for me and Mitchell: I gardened all day, and he was at work all night. It felt like we rarely got to see each other – he was recently promoted, and the garden grew with more dragon fruit.
The first day he had off that week, we spent together. Darn right we woohooed! More than once too…which was enough to get pregnant again. So during breakfast, I told him the good news.
“We’re going to have another baby!”
“Really?!” He was excited, so excited that got out of his seat and danced.
“Yes really. I’m so happy Mitch…a sibling for little Fareeha.”
“She won’t be little for much longer, today’s her big crib jump.” I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about that.
While I cleaned up downstairs, Mitchell went upstairs to talk to Fareeha before she aged up.
“You’re going to be a big sister, little one. You’ll have a playmate for a while before you’re a teen. And someone to keep you company.
We won’t be around for you all that much. Mommy works hard on the garden to provide for your future. And daddy works to feel like he’s providing for his family. But we love you very much.”
It was nearly evening when it was time for her birthday: I had just taken a shower and decided to feed her, cuddle her, and rock her since this would be the last time I would hold her: My darling princess. I told her how much I love her before setting her down in the crib.
She aged up shortly after that, into a near clone of her father…with softened features. And she was a very self-assured little girl with a rambunctious attitude.
Being married was amazing. We both respected each others “careers” and helped and supported each other. I would watch him practice his comedy and give him my honest opinions: that he was a great comedian, and his jokes were always funny. And he would help me take care of my garden…since he knew most of our money came from those plants. He didn’t want me to spray the bugs, and he didn’t like the idea of me weeding the plants after my second trimester. He always told me that he was afraid all the bending would hurt the baby.
It was the day of Mitchell’s birthday…He was becoming an adult. He didn’t want a party – which honestly surprised me because of how close he was to his “bros” – he just wanted to be with his wife and unborn baby. So I made the cake, which was a messy process. I added the candles after it was cooled and frosted, and called for Mitch. It was a bittersweet moment: He was already an adult, and I wasn’t even halfway through being a young adult…which meant (if my calculations were right) he’d be gone by the time I was an elder. He wasn’t one to take a youth potion, and I wouldn’t ask him. I would just have to live in each moment, so I would start by celebrating his birthday with cake.
Mitchell got promoted, and our harvest was amazing: With the promotion bonus money, and the money from selling the produce we were able to afford things! We now have wallpaper, wall tile in the kitchen and bathrooms. We were able to buy an actual bed frame and mattress, new bedding, end tables and lights, curtains and a rug. We even bought a baby bassinet. Our house was starting to feel like a home.
We also decided to not have a huge ceremony. We went down to the beach near sun down and had a small ceremony with just the two of us and the fish in the water. He threw confetti as we sealed our marriage with a kiss – such a goofball. I was still Ana Amari legally, but in my heart I was now Ana Kalani.
Everything felt so right: I was married to my best friend. I was carrying his child. We had a nice house that we were building from the ground up. If Geoffrey would stop calling everyday I would say life was perfect–BUT that didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was my new marriage, my new husband, and our eventual new baby.
The honeymoon was short and sweet. We just went home and woohooed in the new closet. He massaged my back and shoulders afterward, and then we had spaghetti. It wasn’t much, but it was perfect for us. The next morning we would return to our daily grind for more money.
We now had 8 dragonfruit plants – All excellent quality. 2 of those plants would later be spliced with snapdragons for the cowplant berries. Until that time came we would just continue to water, evolve, fertilize, weed, and spray for bugs.
Morning sickness was awful. And so were the cravings. Mac and cheese in the morning, throw it all up, eat more, throw that up too. It was a nasty and vicious cycle, but I would go through it again because the end product was just so amazing. Mitch tried everything to keep my mood up so I wouldn’t focus on the fact that I was just a puke factory right now. He told me some jokes, gave me a preview of his future routines, and then he would ask me about what I was hoping to achieve with my garden.
“Don’t tell any of your future siblings, but you’re the heir. So one day, this will all be yours. You have to promise me that you won’t let this die, because this will be your biggest money maker…I guess unless you decide to be a writer or painter. But still, don’t let this die. That’s my one request.” I was sure if the baby could hear me, but I talked anyway. I had decided a long time ago that any child born first would be the heir: They would have the most time to get the skills needed to run the homestead before the torch would need to be passed. I hadn’t talked to Mitchell about this yet, and I hoped he would understand.
We had spent all of our money expanding and upgrading the house. It was now two stories, with actual rooms. The rooms were small, but at least there were rooms – 3 of them to be exact. We also had 3 bathrooms: 1 downstairs, 1 shared upstairs, and 1 master bath. We still had no wallpaper or a proper bed, but that was okay. We still slept fine the night the upgrading was finished – the view from the master bedroom was breathtaking.
One morning, during breakfast, Mitchell surprised me.
The following night, I had a visitor just as I was heading in after a long day of working the earth. Mitchell had come over, and surprisingly things weren’t awkward like I thought it would be. We were both extremely tired.
That morning, I had woken up feeling better than ever. I made a quick salad for us to eat throughout the day. He wasn’t hungry – I suspected it was because he was nervous about the conversation we were about to have.
It was time to splice strawberries to my snapdragons. I was nervous, but oh-so excited. While I spliced, Mitchell watered, harvested, and even evolved some of 
That night we woohooed. The next morning I took the test. I didn’t even bother getting dressed to tell Mitchell the news.
The house was coming along nicely; I had a couch and a tv. My garden was growing, evolving, and raking in some seriously easy simoleons. I loved to spend the afternoons and evenings watching tv…mostly because I was still mourning the loss of my relationship with Geoffrey. After him, I put my heart and soul into my garden. But after the day’s work was finished I felt numb, so tv was a way to just veg out and not think about things…at least until I saw him on a comedy show: Mitchell Kalani, my best friend from my past – the man that entered my name in the lottery and loved me dearly. Maybe…instead of looking for new relationships, I should reconnect with him.
I called him later that evening I thought of him. I was ecstatic to hear from me after so long. We talked for a while, then he asked if I would like to come over this weekend to visit. His roommates were on their honeymoon, so he had the house to himself. I was worried that I would take advantage of him – he loved me, and I was still getting over Geoffrey. I didn’t want to hurt Mitch, because he was my oldest friend – I accepted anyway, because it would be nice to see a friendly face.
My phone beeped. I felt sick: Geoffrey texted me, asking if we could talk.
He embraced me. It was comforting and warm – just like him.
We watched tv, ate some pizza, drank some wine. We talked about what had happened in our lives after I moved: He had his own comedy show on television. He went on a couple of blind dates set up by his friends. Gavin Richards got married, J Huntington got married. I told him about my garden and how I’ve been building up my house. I was proud of him, and he was proud of me.
I went home and took a pregnancy test, considering we had woohooed a lot. I was excited to see the result.
I love the way the morning sun lights up my new kitchen. The kitchen itself may not look like much, but the sun makes it look like something from a magazine.
After a long day of working the land and collecting, it was a nice feeling to come home to a proper kitchen – with a fridge, a stove, counters, and cabinets. I even had a kitchen sink. I could make real food – food that would fill my stomach and I would have left overs.
The day after my kitchen was installed, Geoffrey invited me out to the spa. He told me that I’ve been working too hard and needed to relax. So we went into the sauna and relaxed. Things got a little steamy and we ended up woohooing in the sauna – not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times. I didn’t have birth control, so there’s no way I wasn’t pregnant. 
After the long woohoo session, I went to kiss him, but as soon as I went in, he pushed me away. And I could see why. My heart was breaking as his expression said it all – he was lying about everything, just to sleep with a younger woman.
I showered and scrubbed my skin. I felt used. I felt dirty. I never wanted this…I knew it was too good to be true. I deleted his number from my phone, I deleted his messages and everything about him from my life. There was only one thing left to do – take a pregnancy test. I heaved a sigh of relief, it was negative. Now I had nothing left of him except memories…which in time will be replaced and fade away.
When he called me, the first thing I could think was: How did he get my number? But this guy is rich, so he probably had his resources. We talked for a couple days between my collecting and taking care of my plants, and I got to know him and his family life. But tonight was different, he asked me out on a date. I was nervous, but accepted anyway. I got dressed up and left for the bistro.
We talked for a few minutes before we ordered.
The meal was great quality – for those prices it better have been – and the wine was a vintage with a large price tag. He ended up buying the bottle to keep the wine flowing. We talked about everything: from my island and what I do on it, to his boring desk job, and what my current dreams and aspirations were. I didn’t tell him that I wanted children or wanted to get married, because right now I just really liked his companionship and attention – I knew children and marriage would scare him off.
Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was attention. Or my loneliness for human contact. Whatever it was, it gave me the courage to kiss him outside of the bistro – in public view. It gave me the courage to invite him to my home, with implications of more than kissing. It gave me the courage sleep with him, the not-so-married man.
I felt like I needed a day off from all my hard work. Plus I needed to socialize, mingle, and meet new people…and honestly, I was feeling a little lonely on that huge island all by myself. So, before noon, I found myself outside of this pub and cinema in the historical Tudor district. I could smell the greasy pub food and the booze, and I could hear the loud music thwumping through the wall. This was my kind of place. 
As soon as I went in, I sat at the table and just looked around; There was a heavily pregnant woman dancing next to the table (was it really a good idea? Table has sharp edges, pregnant belly…just thinking of the accident made me pale), a couple of guys were off to the side playing darts and drinking their ale. The tv was on, and unsurprisingly it was turned to the sports channel. I was so engulfed in the sports that I didn’t notice the two men slide into the chairs next to me.
I was feeling a little hungry, so I ordered a small plate of currywurst and a glass (or three) of wine to wash it down. I ate at the bar, hoping those guys didn’t come near me.
My garden needed tending before the day was over – because if I didn’t they would be brown and extremely sad little plants – so I left the pub after I went pee and paid the bill. Luckily all I needed to do was water and weed…but I decided to be a little overachieving for today and planted another row of snapdragon for future splicing with the strawberries. It was a huge step toward the high value dragon fruit.
I never knew my parents. I never knew their names, their personalities, what they even looked like. I never knew if they actually planned to have me, or if I was an oopsie baby. I knew they were secret agents, and they died in the line of duty…so I like to think they worked hard and were very passionate people. I mean I had to inherit it from somewhere…right?
The Amari Family 