The warm glow of the setting sun illuminated the living room, with a family of pigs, a teddy bear, a locomotive, and a fire truck casting shadows that stretched almost the whole width of the carpet. Eve pawed at the shadows inquisitively, concerned with them almost as much as the toys themselves. George found himself watching the toddler from the corner of his eye; wondering if the half smile on her face indicated some insidious thoughts lurking below the surface, or just the bewildered joy typical of a two-year-old.
"Really, we appreciate it so much," her mother said, her blue eyes crinkling with her smile. "It's been so long since we've had a night out."
"No problem at all," George replied, his hazel eyes sincere. "I'm happy to help. And, well, I could use the money." They could all laugh at that. George might have been tempted to party like his friends over the summer, but had instead decided to save up as much as he could to guard against any unexpected expenses once he started college. It was one of the reasons his neighbours trusted him so much.
With a final wave, the couple left the house, leaving George and baby Eve alone. The room seemed to grow quieter, the sounds of the outside world fading away as George focused on the task ahead of him. Turning back towards the small child, he found her sitting on the floor, staring up at him with wide blue eyes that held a strange intensity. Her plump cheeks were flushed from crawling around earlier, but the toys seemed to have lost her interest for a moment. George approached her, kneeling down to check the status of her diaper. She was wet already, so he efficiently lifted her onto a blanket and laid her down so he could deal with that. As he worked, he caught glimpses of her tiny hands reaching out to touch anything that was in reach.
"Ba... ba..." she muttered, and George found himself wondering what she was trying to say this time. There were a few words she knew, and she could make herself understood by pointing if she needed to, but when she was trying out new words it was often hard to be sure what she wanted to say.
"Almost there, little one," George encouraged her, finishing up with the diaper change. "You'll master the complexities of language soon enough, and then I'm sure you'll be able to talk my ear off." He then set her down by her play area, where an assortment of colourful toys lay scattered about.
With dinner time fast approaching, George headed to the kitchen to prepare a simple meal for the child. As he chopped vegetables and cooked them in a pan, he glanced back at Eve, who was now fully engrossed in her toys. He hoped that she would stay focused on solo play for a little longer, because at some point after feeding her and washing the dishes, he would need to find time to write two essays in support of his college application. The weight of responsibilities bearing down on him this month was a world away from Eve, exploring the darkest reaches of the lounge and enjoying her playthings without a care in the world.
The baby's laughter filled the air as she shook a small rattle, her face alight with joy. George couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as he worried about his own future and the challenges he faced.
"Alright, Eve, dinner's ready," George announced, setting a plate of steaming food on the high chair. He carefully lifted her into the seat, securing her with the straps before beginning to feed her.
As George watched the young child eat with gusto, a part of him could have envied her carefree existence. How wonderful it must be, he thought, to have no worries or stress, to simply live in the moment and enjoy life's simple pleasures without the burden of adult responsibilities. A wistful sigh escaped his lips as he cleaned up after their meal, his mind already turning back to the list of chores that he would have to accomplish before he could focus properly on his own burdens.
Once the last remnants of dinner had been wiped clean from Eve's face, George carefully lifted her out of the high chair and set her down on the floor amongst her toys again. "There you go, little one. Have fun while I work on my essay," he said, stroking her soft blonde hair.
As George took a seat at the table, he pulled out his laptop and opened the document that contained his college admission essay. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, anxiety building up within him as he struggled to find the right words to express his thoughts. He knew how important this essay was for his future, and the pressure weighed heavily on him.
Despite his preoccupation with his work, George always remembered to keep an eye on Eve. Her laughter and cooing filled the room, providing a soothing counterpoint to his own stress and worry. No matter how difficult things seemed for him, he couldn't bear the thought of neglecting her well-being, even for a moment. And when he was finding his own work so hard, the contrast between their two lives had never been more pronounced.
"George... focus," he muttered to himself, forcing his attention back to the screen. The frustration of writer's block gnawed at him, making it even more difficult to concentrate. He was writing about topics he knew like the back of his hand; the purpose of this task was just to prove that he was able to express himself. There was no way it should have been so difficult to do something that was so familiar to him. Like Eve; there was no way she could possibly forget how to bite on the corner of a toy train, or laugh at the disorder when she threw it at a family of soft toys. All the while, the sound of the baby at play served as a constant reminder of a simpler life that didn't depend on any words at all.
Minutes ticked by, feeling hours, as George continued to wrestle with his essay. Each word felt like pulling teeth, but he persevered, determined to create something he could be proud of. And all the while, he never let Eve stray too far from his watchful gaze, ensuring her safety throughout the evening.
He glanced down at the word document on his laptop, the cursor blinking impatiently as if urging him to continue. He rubbed his temples and sighed. Eve, sitting on the floor surrounded by her toys, caught his eye and he couldn't help but smile. The sight of her brought a temporary reprieve from his stress.
As he returned to his essay, George felt a small tug at the leg of his jeans. Looking down, he saw that Eve had crawled over to the table, her big blue eyes wide with curiosity as she stared at the laptop screen.
"Wassaa?" she asked, her words slurred in typical baby fashion.
"I'm writing an essay," George replied absently, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, then wondered if she would even understand what that was. "Like a storybook." He watched her face light up as some kind of realisation dawned, and then laughed as he realised that her waving hands could have been miming his typing action. She didn't know what an essay was, but she could still play at it, and imagine it was as fun as any of her toys.
"Stooo...y!" she managed to say the word. She tried a few times more, and then grinned with pride when she got to something that she thought was right. George probably wouldn't have understood what she was trying to say if he hadn't just used the word himself, but it was still amazing how quickly a small child could learn.
It seemed she didn't want to return to playing with her toys in the middle of the lounge, so after a little hesitation he lifted her up to her high chair again, and offered her a colouring book and some crayons. Before long she was drawing rough squiggles across the page, almost like she was trying to write. She watched George's screen sometimes, and cheered when he typed; and at other times she was completely focused on her own creation. Whatever she imagined writing, he was sure that it was making the baby happy.
A few minutes later, as he realised that his essay had developed another contradiction, he wished that all his work could be as easy as looking after the baby. She was having so much fun, whether she was colouring pictures or pretending to write on them; while he wasn't even sure what he needed to write to give the best impression for those colleges. His fingers stabbed frustratedly at the keyboard, while her crayons danced effortlessly across the page. As much as he tried to focus on perfecting his essay, he couldn't help but steal occasional glances at the carefree child playing beside him, her laughter a bittersweet reminder of the innocence he once knew.
"Focus, George," he commanded himself, desperate to finish his work. Once he had no other deadlines, perhaps he could play with Eve and maybe reclaim a little of that childhood simplicity for himself.
Eve looked up for a moment, with eyes that almost pretended to understand his anxiety. "Wanna swap?" she asked, her voice surprisingly clear for a moment.
George chuckled, charmed by the notion. "If only it were that easy, little one," he said, ruffling her soft hair affectionately. "Now, why don't you try to play quietly while I finish this up? Then we can have some fun together."
"Otay!" Eve agreed cheerfully, and George's thoughts were dragged back to his laptop for another fifteen minutes of torment. But he knew that he couldn't keep on going like this forever.
With a sigh, George looked across at Eve, who was focusing intently now on her colouring book. The way she clutched her stuffed bear to her chest, and whispered to it because he'd asked her to be quiet, tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him of the profound simplicity of her world. It was a beautiful way to live her life, and he wished that his adult stresses didn't have to affect her enjoyment so much.
MAybe she had noticed the change in his mood, because she looked up again and stared at the laptop screen.
"Swap?" she giggled, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Maybe not this time," George chuckled, setting one of the dropped crayons back into her hand as he turned her colouring book onto a new page filled with fanciful creatures, an image bursting with potential. This time he made sure the box of thick, stubby crayons was within her reach, and hoped that she would be able to focus while he did his own work. But Eve was still babbling gently, and he could tell that she was more concerned with his boring tasks more than her own artistic creativity.
"Sssh," George said, raising one finger to his lips like he was drawing her into some giant conspiracy. "Let's see if we can be quiet for a little bit. You do your colouring, and I'll do my typing. And we can keep quiet, like it's a big secret what we're working on. Does that sound like fun?"
Eve chuckled again, and her grin spread wider. She didn't really understand what he was saying, but she could understand that he was making a game out of it. She clutched her crayon in a pudgy fist, and brought it back into contact with the colouring book again. She was colouring the sun blue this time, but George didn't think she was old enough to understand that yet; she was still fascinated just by being able to make colours appear on the page.
"Good girl," he praised her, feeling an unexpected surge of affection. His fingers itched to join her, to abandon his essay in favour of joining her carefree world, if only for a few precious minutes. Colouring the sun blue surely had to be easier than explaining the benefits of being bilingual as if the admissions tutor had never heard of the concept before. But he knew he couldn't – there was too much riding on his college admission essay.
"Almost there," he murmured to himself as he pecked away at his keyboard, forcing his thoughts back on track. The memory of carefree laughter and sun-drenched afternoons spent with friends taunted him from the recesses of his mind, their siren call beckoning him to a world just out of reach.
"Focus," George whispered, his determination surging like a tide. He had come too far to let nostalgia derail his dreams now. As his fingers danced across the keys, the words began to flow more easily, each sentence bringing him one step closer to his goal.
"Swap?" Eve asked once more, her gaze flicking from the crayon in her chubby hand to George's face.
"Shush, little one," George whispered, gently pressing a finger to his lips again. "Let's both do our best, and then we can play together when I'm done, okay?" Then he reached his hand towards her lips, and put his finger against them as he repeated again, "Sssh!" Maybe this time, she would feel like she was in on the secret, and he could work without childish offers for a couple of minutes. Her grin expanded as he leaned over, convincing him that she was more excited by the prospect; and then she raised her own chubby hand as if to place a finger in front of his lips for silence as well.
"Sssh!" Eve said, about as loud as she could possibly make the sound. Somehow, it seemed like another invitation to swap places. But this time, she wasn't asking.