The infant in the girl’s arms was indeed Laura’s son, Martin.
Barely five months old, the child was a delicate little thing. Even Isabella had to admit that she was entranced by him.
With skin so smooth, it almost appeared translucent under the slight spill of sunlight from the open doorway. And his tiny fists opening and closing were the most adorable, mindless gestures ever seen.
The baby was pearl white with puffy cheeks and wide, glassy sapphire eyes that wandered without focus.
Knowing how Ansel looked, Isabella knew that the child got those eyes from the mother and not the father. In that case, Laura must be facially stunning.
The girl carrying Martin didn’t have sapphire eyes; they were more of an icy blue shade. So, Isabella concluded that she wasn’t Laura. But that didn’t stop them from developing an affinity for each other in that instant.
"He’s very... he’s just... beautiful."
Isabella remarked, withstanding the urge to squeeze Martin’s cheeks.
The girl laughed candidly, glancing at her nephew with a proud grin before taking her eyes back to the visitor.
"Thank you. You must be... Isabella?"
She asked, and Isabella nodded, replying, "Yes. I’m so glad we could finally et."
Martin was adjusted in the girl’s arms as she nodded gently, turning to give Isabella entry into the house.
"Co in. Laura is inside. She’ll be happy you ca."
Isabella stepped forward into the house as if she were sneaking in and not invited.
The interior of the duplex revealed itself with the stereotypical impression of a family ho.
As Isabella followed Laura’s younger sister to the main living room, she passed littered toys and carelessly placed footwear on the polished tiles.
The scent of disinfectant and the aroma of sothing warm in the kitchen fought with each other for supremacy. But amidst the clash, all Isabella could sll was baby lotion, baby powder: baby, baby, baby.
Entering a spacious living room where the sunlight pressed softly through wide curtains, the girl motioned for Isabella to sit. Isabella complied, lowering herself into one of the deep sofas.
Once settled, her gaze wandered around by instinct, noting everything in the living room. From the glass table crowded with mugs, a remote, and a pacifier, to the walls lined with frad photographs that told the family’s story.
Isabella couldn’t believe just how great and fun so people’s lives could be when they have a family. As the only child, she never got to experience what she could see on the walls.
"I’ll just go upstairs and call Laura down," Laura’s sister said warmly.
Isabella nodded briskly in understanding, but she definitely did not expect the girl to step closer. Unthinkably, Laura’s sister placed the warm little bundle called Martin on her lap.
"???!!!"
Startled, Isabella froze as the baby’s soft weight sank against her, his powdery scent imdiately rising to her nose.
Even Baby Martin stared back up at the adult, just as shocked as she was at the sudden change of his carrier. He did not agree to this!
"Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. Haha," Laura’s sister teased, amused at the scene.
For any visitor who ca now, she had been testing her nephew’s level of accord. Isabella appeared like a sweet young lady, so she didn’t mind keeping Martin with her while she went to fetch his mother.
"Well... this is... sudden," Isabella managed to say with a short laugh, her body stiff because she was still engaged in the staring contest with the baby’s wide gaze.
As Laura’s sister turned to leave, Isabella called out quickly, "I’m sorry—I didn’t get your na."
"Evelyn," the girl answered at the foot of the stairs. "And don’t worry, you’ll be fine. He likes pretty people."
As Evelyn disappeared up the staircase, Martin’s cherubic face began to change to woe. His tiny mouth quivered, his eyes glossing with unmistakable tears.
Panic shot through Isabella like lightning as she sought a way to console him before he burst into full tears.
"Oh no, no, no—don’t cry, please don’t cry!" she wailed silently, her chest tightening as if the baby’s cry would be her undoing.
’I knew it... I knew I’m not pretty enough!’
Bouncing her knees awkwardly, Isabella hoped it would soothe the baby. But nothing seed to work as Martin swelled up with more tears, making her feel awfully guilty.
Just then, the sound of footsteps on the staircase drew Isabella’s distraught gaze upward, and relief rushed through her as Evelyn returned.
This ti, Laura was behind her. The atmosphere in the room shifted entirely with Laura’s presence.
Yet unaware of his mother’s arrival, Martin wondered why the strange adult had changed from frantic desperation to wide-eyed awe that softened every line of her features.
Isabella was transfixed.
Laura Brahms was a marvel to look at.
Laura was tall, about 5’9, wearing lounge shorts that revealed long, model-like legs. She even walked a bit like one.
With a white crop top and ruffled blonde hair falling over her shoulders, the woman was captivating—strangely so, considering it was coming from Isabella’s point of view.
Isabella’s thoughts faltered.
This must be why Martin’s pretty standard was so high!
"Isabella... hi," Laura said softly, her tone tentative.
The mont Martin heard his mother’s voice, he wailed like a siren, twisting on Isabella’s lap and stretching his tiny arms toward Laura.
Freezing like a mannequin, Isabella was both stunned and panicked, her hands hovering uselessly around him. She had never expected a baby’s cry to sound like this.
Well, Martin was only five months old, and he had been confined to only his family since Laura had shut herself off from the world. So, any unfamiliar face was enough to set off alarm bells.
Laura cradled her baby away from Isabella, apologizing to her. Instantly, Martin stopped wailing as he buried his face in her shoulders.
"I hope I can get him more used to other people soday," Laura said as she searched for the nearest sofa.
Isabella replied, "Don’t stress. He’s not even a year old yet—it’s more than okay. Seriously, he’s doing just fine."
Evelyn, who had been absent, returned with refreshnts: hot chocolate, orange juice, and croissants, still warm.
Isabella wasn’t really hungry, but she accepted the snacks because they looked really tantalizing. Even Martin’s milk, which was prepared monts later, looked equally delectable.
With drinks and pastries settled on the glass table, a quiet calm filled the living room. Isabella returned to viewing the decor of the house once more.
From the next sofa, Laura watched her intently, studying her expressions and her energy.
After a while, she spoke to Isabella.
"C’mon, Isabella. What’s ’Old Primary School Classmate’?"
Isabella turned to her with blushing cheeks, trying to hold back a smirk. Eventually, both won laughed.
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