By the Grace of Sim Gods

Rylan and Eliza: Charity Over His Baby Girl

Emilie watched as Eliza climbed onto the dining room chair, staring through the window waiting for her father. She was proud, Rylan had submitted a selection of short stories to Reading Nooks, a local publishing house, and they had offered him a deal. Eliza understood, she wanted to give him a chocolate cake, and a huge hug. Stirring the mix, letting Patrick lick the spoon, Eliza embraced her role as big sister, it was difficult to watch her excitement, the desire to celebrate her father when he acted distant and indifferent to them both. Patrick climbed onto the chair next to her, his interest focussed on the creamy frosting, fingers dipped denting the cake. Scowling, Eliza told him “No” too late, the hands reached his mouth, spreading chocolate over his nose and chin. It surprised Emilie how he could hold so much, and still miss his mouth

A publishing deal came with other commitments, an appearance at a charity event should improve sales, but it came at a price. The mention of Bailey, a woman who had made advances on Rylan, and with whom he failed to mention called him regularly, it elicited a jealous response. Emilie tightened her face, brow furrowed, pushing the argument towards the fact the gala coincided with Eliza’s birthday, horrified that Rylan seemed flippant about missing the celebrations.

Ziva studied her brother, restless, he checked his watch, stepping back from Patrick and his sticky fingers, checking his suit. Emilie decided on brunch, a quiet birthday celebration, she would have preferred a bigger party, maybe a trip to the coast, but it was clear Rylan’s career importance exceeded his feelings for his family. He inched towards the door, the delay in lighting candles due to Patrick needing to use his potty. As the birthday tune ended, Rylan thought he could slip out unnoticed, Patrick’s lip quivered, as the door clicked shut, he screamed, tears streamed down his cheeks. Eliza shuffled off the stool, wrapping him in her arms, they both missed him, she assured Patrick their father would be home soon and there would be ice cream and fun with him another day. The women admired her optimistic approach to life, she kept smiling as she opened her presents and Emilie had pinned a ribbon across the doorway to the spare bedroom. It was an event, Patrick, his puffy cheeks, sleepy, rested his head on Ziva’s shoulder. Eliza’s eyes widened, how her mother had found the time, decorated green walls, and purple fabric splashes, a dream room. A finishing touch, Emilie had cleaned up a guitar adding it to the room for aesthetics.

Bailey greeted Rylan, warm and familiar, her dramatic figure-hugging purple and silver gown seemed overkill for a party in the park. He made his presence at the occasion clear, he was there to promote a worthy cause, the irony being as an author, his work, printed on paper. Rylan answered positively, “Speak for the trees” had inspired him and he would donate a percentage of book sales to the replanting of trees, a comment that had reporters clamouring for a definitive figure, something to hold him to in the future. The remainder of his night spent drinking, networking, and avoiding Bailey, making a point of mentioning his gorgeous wife at every opportunity, certain this would deter her potential advances.

Eliza and Patrick: Food

Getting toddlers to savour new foods could be a challenge, Eliza was adamant regarding what textures passed her lips, Patrick wanted everything. Rylan surrendered to Eliza, she knew her mind, chocolate made its way to her plate to keep her quiet. It was his fault, describing spaghetti as worms, the olives that topped the taco casserole were animal droppings. Patrick reached for food, whatever Emilie ate he wanted to taste it, unfazed by Rylan’s attempts to tease and deter him. Emilie tempted Eliza, tiny portions of colour, she loved a vegetable rainbow plate, they intrigued her eldest, except when it came to meat, she folded her arms unimpressed. Her father made it clear meat came from animals, taking her stuff toy and putting it on a plate next to her dinner, emphasising where it came from. The real cuteness, Patrick, to show he understood he tried the ham slice pointing at Lawrence the pig, a big grin on his face.

It came a no surprised Patrick would be keen to taste the world, he needed watching as grass, leaves and dirt were quick to pass his lips. Eliza had enjoyed many of her meals outside, comfortable on the grass and happy to eat the plated food. Patrick fussed in his high chair, homemade spaghetti, he wanted to get his hands in, the idea they were worms slipping through his fingers made dinner entertaining.

The differences were evident, Patrick needed constant stimulation, boring of simple tasks, he wanted constant fun and attention. Playtime filled the time when waiting for meals, Emilie set him up with blocks, toys, or she would wrestle the tablet from Eliza, nothing worked. His attention span was goldfish level, Emilie stared at the mounting dishes, succumbing to her needy son. Collapsing on the sofa would be the perfect way to relax when he took his afternoon nap, however, Rylan’s complaints, the state of the house she missed the time alone.

Eliza was the saving grace, she excelled in keeping herself entertained, she loved watching videos on the tablet, picking up the nursery rhymes and talking adventure with the play area Unicorn, the oversized plushy. The difference came from her enjoyment of stories, her grandfather Jose’s children’s books were fascinating, despite Rylan’s possessive nature for his father’s work, Eliza respected the books. Patrick preferred to suck them, inspecting everything with his mouth, the majority gnawed. Despite their relocation to the top shelf, Rylan hid one book in his study, Eliza enjoyed the hunt, knowing the reward was a voyage of imagination. Her independence asserted itself at playgroup, her skills exceeded those of the other toddlers, the nursery teachers were recommending entranced to Buckingham High, a specialist school, they took children as young as five, honing their skills and challenging the minds of these budding geniuses. Emilie believed this was the place, the cost was a none issue, she could imagine her daughter as a doctor or delivering scientific breakthroughs, it was unfortunate Rylan believed that Newcrest High was decent, after all, it was good enough for him.

Ziva: And they call it…

Friendships are amazing, established bonds mean knowing what tickles them, perfect for the Humour and Hijinks contest. Ziva preferred to taste the food, all the flavours of the city tantalised her palate with each visit. At previous festivals she avoided telling jokes, instead handing over the microphone, a lack of confidence in her ability to make people laugh. This evening shocked, she seized the microphone, quips of years spent trying to impress people when she should be embracing the humiliation in the name of the Jokesters. Cats’ antics were her main focus, Patches trapped in the fridge eating chicken, miffed at being in the dark rather than the cold, she cried until Ziva open the door, allowing Patches to resume eating. Asher, the mischievous would fare better with the Pranksters, he found himself in several calamities, misjudging distance, worktop to worktop, his butt dragging him to the floor. Hiding under sofa, beds or tables, a swiping paw surprising unsuspecting passer-by, then reappearing, innocent, and some distance from the attack.

Supriya waited in the bar, her suspicions launched into paranoia, her husband Jerome enjoyed lunches with best friend Ziva and at home, he remained cagey, their discussion a secret. The smiling, bubbly greeting Ziva offered fell flat as Supriya twisted uncomfortably, her posture tense, thoughts forced, desperate to know if Jerome and her best friend were having an affair. Ziva choked on white wine, coughing and spluttering hiding her amusement, while Jerome was a sweet man, her intentions were work-related only.

The expression Supriya portrayed seemed unconvinced, Jerome had refused to share, suggesting they had something to hide. Data leakage, Supriya looked confused, approached by the government, Ziva secured the contract reviewing breaches in security systems, alongside Jerome they were developing software to detect unauthorized users accessing information. Jerome’s experience, an additional level of security, attaching ID-based alterations which tracked the information when shared, locating, and plugging leaks, preventing damage. Supriya looked lost, computer talk, a series of zeros and ones meant nothing, she could turn the computer on, play her favourite Sims game, after shutting the machine down. Her face pinched red, hoping Ziva forgave her accusation and, she had intended to gift Ziva another furry companion, perhaps this could act as an apology. Ziva grinned intrigued by the gift Supriya spoke of, eager for the weekend to arrive and the surprise revealed.

Building a home, life, a project, developing family ties and friends, all pieces of a puzzle coming together to form the final picture of what makes a person. Ziva had her brother, his wife and their two children, the cats, and a selection of friends whittled and changed through the years to focus on the ones who finally mattered. Things were calm, the debacle that had been her young adult life paved the way for her positive outlook. She knew this perspective deserved, as with everything in her life, a mark or celebration, so when happiness and apologies bring gifts, a dachshund puppy called Fiona made her family complete.

Ziva: A Celebration of a Single Woman

Listening to Emilie, she realised how relationships tested emotions, at least that with her brother. Emilie thought through every detail of what she and Rylan said during quarrels. Ziva braced herself against the sea breeze, wrapping her coat tight, these walks helped to unwind, the ocean reminding her she was a duck at the edge of a large pond. She kicked off her shoes, squeezed the sand and into the icy waters, whatever her troubles, this was her moment to breathe and release them. Arriving home she had unpacked the issues and tidied them neatly, Emilie seemed as though the boxes stacked, overflowing, leaving her overwhelmed.

Ziva had the idea she would meet that special person to spend the rest of her days with, it had been a difficult period, watching her friends couple and her sidelined. She considered the future as her, twenty cats, fur-covered clothes, shooing telemarketers, the spinster who wondered “what if?”. Lucky she chose to embraced life, her friends changed, as she learnt to say yes to every invitation, and assisted the animal rescuers, single may have an abundance of alone time but opened her to possibilities.

Other times, Ziva sort the opportunities herself, a black summer dress, hair scooped back, she stepped from the train. San Myshuno held promise, she loved the simplicity of the Spice District, the large concrete space, surrounded on three sides by apartments, hosted both the flea market and the Spice Festival, and on occasion saw many a protest. The Karaoke bar sat on the water’s edge, she could hear the off-key singing, her mother, Aria had a beautiful voice, something Ziva wished she had inherited. The bar seats were empty, Ziva ordered a Dim and Gusty, watching the TV on the bar, the cool evening breeze drifted in through the open doors. Maria, thick black hair, cropped short, skinny jeans and red converse sneakers, an outfit she was uncomfortable. Taking her seat next to Ziva, she ordered her white wine, amongst a nervous exchange of greeting.

Supriya suggested the idea, online dating, if Ziva made new friends rather than meeting the love of her life, Supriya believed it would get her noticed, boost her confidence. There would be no protesting, Emilie thought it was a great plan, suggesting future double dates, anything to seperate Rylan and his first love, the computer. Maria shifted uneasy, like Ziva she had dated men, but somehow the relationships failed, her divorce finalised a week ago, Ziva was the start of her female dating pool. Both were career-driven, Maria worked as a hedge fund manager, meaning her usual style was corporate, buttoned-up blouses, knee-length skirt and heels. She could talk shoes, she lost Ziva, discussing the differences, kitten, stiletto, slingback, the shoe to Ziva was either high, low or flat. Their date was short, Ziva liked Maria, she seemed nice, however, another date would increase the awkwardness, as Maria struggled to relax, uncertain of herself and what she wanted. Ziva knew who she was, want she wanted from life, it meant being open to love in all its forms. Life for her was a cake, chocolate, layers of sweet butter icing, and every day she took a big bite.

The transformation, in her attitude to life, independence, success reside in the place she wanted to feel was her home. Ziva focused on herself, friendships, experiences, her career, everything took place outside the building she slept. Ziva’s promotion earned her the title of “Start-up Genius”, the final career step, Rylan grumbled, jealousy due to success had brought a rift in their bond from the beginning. Small windows made it dark, incorrect placement meant the view over the ocean obscured by solid walls. Larger windows flooded the dank corners, bringing light, energy, the home felt spacious and, Ziva saw the potential. Paint tests on the walls, samples of colourful sofa fabrics, she wanted perfection, this space last piece of the puzzle that was her and her amazing life.

Ziva: Nerd Brain Aspiration

It had been ages, Ziva grooved, the dancefloor filled, friends, their partners, strangers, she missed these crazy nights. A couple of drink loosens the crowd, her eyes watered as the light show illuminated them, ears ringing, DJ BoomKitty’s bass throbbed through the chest wall, making the crowd its slave. Ziva allowed herself few extra drinks, her legs wobbled, head spun, letting her hair down she bounced possessed, the stress brought on by work released in the expulsion of energy.

Her body failed to process the alcohol, the cats cried, each grated against her, feeling weak, Ziva laid, Patches padded, Asher pawed her nose. They demanded breakfast, Ziva needed water, questioning why the room spun, her bathroom downstairs. Blinking, sunshine peeked through the curtains, she squeezed her eyes shut, but the cats knew, there would be no use pretending.

Patrick slept through his birthday having been awake teething, Emilie mixed her emotions, sobbing at failing to celebrate appropriately, gushing over her intelligent daughter, how Eliza will start school in a year. Ziva had some news, she had clocked 10,000 hours of chess, both online and in the local park, she believed she had mastered the game, her record stood, beating the amateurs of Brindleton Bay, hence the celebrating. Eliza stuck her fingers in the icing, Ziva’s cake devoured by her innocent niece, their eyes met, Eliza’s fingers pressed the stolen food to her lips and Ziva surrendered the cake.

Emilie enquired what plans Ziva had for the cat rescue group, Rylan signed rolling his eyes, he despaired over his sister’s frivolous spending on stray animals. His wife shushed him, Ziva planned to make her home inviting to strays, this included toys, feeders and a cat condo, it would be a haven. Eliza polished off the cake, licking the plate, Emilie scowled and sheepish she put the plate down.

As Ziva assisted with cleaning, Patrick stirred, deciding since the party was over, it would be time to wake. Rylan brought the sleepy child to see his aunt, he snuggled shy, he had thick black hair, and Ziva recalled pictures of Rylan at that age, there would be no doubt whose son he was. Emilie laughed, pinching both Patrick and Rylan’s cheeks, she knew her son would be angelic, she imagined him becoming a doctor or if he like Eliza loved Ziva’s animal stories, perhaps a vet, a practice in Newcrest. Patrick reached for Emilie, she had cut him some cake, it seems the love of sugar would be a sibling trait and Ziva could see them fighting over every slice.

Rylan and Eliza: Bored Fans make Daddy mean

Inspiration, when it hits, it demands attention, keeping Rylan awake at night, things change this voice in his head was silent. Ideas for his videos were boring his fans, echoed by his procrastination. Producing regular videos, exhausting, add Eliza, she gnawed at his frayed nerves, forcing him to shout when she turned on the stereo. Eliza wanted to dance, Rylan wished she would be quiet, her tear woke Patrick, adding to his stress, filming delayed, he would be editing through the night. Another issue arose as his main source of fame wavered, royalties from books waned, on sale, they remained on shelves and unread.

The lacklustre business position stagnated, Rylan seemed stuck, same position, shuffling paper on top of his hectic home life, he wanted to ditch the lot, take an extended vacation. Rylan contacted a colleague at the magazine, they were looking for a regular contributor in their gaming section. It had been a while, unsure how he would feel returning, his colleague reassured he would be welcome, after a tense initial reunion. He loved the thrill of having his work published, small articles help launch his cyber-crime novels, the vast number of games fed his creative vibe. Emilie suggested he consider the opportunity, perhaps give insight for a new book. Abusing the social media platform would take on another meaning, with a solid position with the magazine, Rylan could pursue that celebrity status.

Rylan agreed to give Emilie alone time, taking father duty, watching the children when writing from home. Eliza had a bad night, crying due to bad dreams, Rylan gave her the usual dry ham sandwich. Bottom lip quivered, the pathetic meal, two whole slices of white bread, a miserable ham slice, Emilie cut the crusts off and into triangles. The toddler screamed, throwing the food, annoyed by Rylan, his contribution to her diet, providing the same food every day. Stern, Rylan slammed the worktop, Eliza stopped crying, breath held, unsure what might happen, he had deadlines, a tense voice enquired what Eliza wanted. She hugged herself, staring down, Rylan breathed heavy, calmer, stroked her hair, he offered an apologetic smile. Shaking her head, her lower lip pouted she pointed to the cereal, half a bowl, colourful shapes swimming in milk.

Emilie perched on the table, she watched unnoticed her daughter observe Rylan playing video games. He gave her commentary, as he collected coins, teaching her how to jump the pixelated boulders. These moments were sweet, Eliza loved him, the time spent together, except, it was rare, when she talked dreams, being a fairy, find a dinosaur, the latter she searched the garden for. Rylan crushed these, her wings were cardboard, the creatures she hunted had been extinct millions of years, laughing at her fantasies making her cry.

The problem embedded itself into the conversation, Emilie sat with Rylan, time with Eliza and Patrick, forced upon him. Emilie had to ask him to spend time with them, unlike with Eliza, changing Patrick’s nappy was rare, and his mean attitude wore thin as he upset Eliza. Rylan sighed, job stress, weird looks from old colleagues, a stricter boss, juggling this and keeping up appearances online, it was sorry for his grumpy address of her and the children. She touched his knee, Emilie wanted his remorse directed through his actions, starting with Eliza getting a decent breakfast and a reading of his latest article.

Rylan: Don’t Mess with the Yummy Mummy

Patrick watched, listened, he gurgled when his mum rushed to his side, she looked hassled, torn, wanting to nurse him, but needed too by her demanding daughter. Being a quiet baby, Emilie worried she was missing key caring and nurturing opportunities, that he would feel neglected if she spent her time with his sister. Parenting forums gave divided opinions, Emilie sifted through trying to figure how to juggle her two babies, to ensure they both got all the love and attention required for being future healthy adults. Every tip she attempted made her feel inadequate, that maybe one child had been enough, and Patrick or Eliza would suffer because of her inability to parent.

Ziva listened, concerned for her sister-in-law, Rylan was consumed by work, her whole life revolved around nappies, playtime and feeding three hungry mouths. She got the impression Emilie loved her family, but it would be nice to let loose. This gave Ziva an idea, eager for a night on the town herself, she arrived mid-afternoon to help get ready. Eliza loved the personal attention, and Ziva had been keen to get extra cuddles with her nephew, so it worked perfectly. Emilie, uncertain how Rylan would react, prepared dinner, pondering the possibility of dancing all night, she sang in the shower, the excitement building. Straining to hear voices, Emilie cringed, a heated discussion, twins, Rylan and Ziva were different, and she knew to dress quickly to avoid war. Rylan stood stunned, the transformation from a full-time parent, covered in sick, paint and flour to seriously yummy mummy, shoulder-length blonde hair straightened, and a fitted white playsuit emphasised the slender figure she reclaimed via swimming. Kissing his cheek, Emilie informed him it was ladies’ night, linking arms with Ziva, the pair skipped through the door.

Emilie looked anxious in the taxi, leaving Rylan in charge, knowing he made a mess the last time he changed Patrick’s nappy and Eliza had a habit of convincing Rylan to allow a biscuit with her warm milk. This plot meant she would wake in a mood, bad dreams from the late-night sugar, he might forget to tempt her back to bed with the unicorn teddy and book. How could she relax and enjoy the evening knowing Rylan needed her? That he spent hours on his streaming channel, uploading videos, driving his fame as a local internet celebrity rather than learning his children’s quirks.

Ziva lined shots up at the bar, Emilie needed to relax, Rylan had to learn the hard way that family comes first. The mix of loud music, alcohol and a vibrant party spirit seeped into Emilie’s mind, after Eliza was born, she got out, back to who she was; this time everything felt different. She missed being home, becoming a mum had changed her foundation, dancing, hanging with Ziva, Emilie enjoyed herself, but in her heart, she would rather be home dancing with Eliza or watching Patrick sleep.

That night did remind her that she needed time alone, Rylan worked full-time, but he was blind to the amount of effort she put into running their home. She asked him to do the laundry while she took the children to the park, an easy request, everything prepared, laundry sorted, detergent, settings, he had to press start, and hang out when done. Arriving home, Rylan sat editing another video, his third that day, the sink full of breakfast plates, the additional mess from the half-eaten sandwich and the laundry sat unwashed. Emilie kept her cool, putting Patrick in his crib, distracting Eliza with a cookie and her tablet. Slamming shut Rylan’s laptop, Emilie fumed, how could be selfish, she hoped for a reprieve from all the housework, an afternoon to spend as a family. An argument ensued, Rylan snapped, his work lost when his laptop shut, the laundry posed the biggest issue, he complained it would be noisy, interfering with his recording. No clean clothes gave Emilie an idea, she needed to save the afternoon and remind her husband having children had changed nothing, she was at her core a mischievous woman. Rylan laughed at her threat to run naked down the street if he kept declining to help. Letting the dress fall, her bra and knickers removed at the door, Rylan raised an eyebrow, disbelief and arms folded. The door swung open, Emilie set off down the street, her gorgeous naked body tingled, she felt the warm breeze and felt free as she ran. His jaw dropped, he grabbed a jacket hoping to catch her, praying she was unseen by the neighbours.

Rylan and Ziva: The New Baby

Ziva’s jogging came under pressure, the cat colony preservation, babysitting Eliza, and work commitments, she felt exhausted. Eliza enjoyed feeding the cats and was often distracted by dogs chasing about, keen to take them home. While the strays seemed friendly, Ziva worried how they may react to the overzealous toddler. A reduction in takeaway and party nights had a positive effect on her bank balance, along with her waistline, all she needed was a good night’s sleep.

The prospect of sleep would have to wait, Rylan had a strict deadline and swamped with work he stayed late in the office to enjoy the peace he struggled to get at home. Rylan continued to write his secret novel despite the career change, eager to remain in the spotlight. He craved the attention fame brought him, numerous parcels were delivered, fans sent food, which had spoiled by the time it arrived, fiction for his feedback and decorative items. He thanked his fans via videos or posts, editing pictures of spoilt cupcakes so they believed he ate them.

This commitment to his work translated as a lack of time for his family, Ziva stepped in to support Emilie. She raced over from Brindleton Bay when Emilie’s waters broke, Rylan received a lecture as his wife put Eliza’s coat on, pausing for contractions. Arriving at the hospital, Emilie went through to the delivery suite, Ziva, carrying Eliza followed. Two hours of pushing and cursing Rylan followed, Ziva listened outside distracting Eliza with pictures of Asher and Patches; stunned but not really surprised that her brother made Emilie go through this alone. The doctor smiled, Mother and baby were doing well, despite her anger, Emilie’s emotions gushed as she cradled this new life. Ziva escorted Eliza through to meet her new brother, Patrick.

Eliza screwed up her nose, the wrinkled grumpy doll in Emilie’s arms disappointed her. Tilting her head she asked could they swap him for a dog? Emilie ruffled her hair laughing, her daughter changing her mind when told that boys needed training and love. She sat excitedly, snuggled next to Emilie, reluctantly Ziva nestled Patrick against Eliza, her mother supporting. The scene would have been perfect if Rylan stopped focusing on himself and enjoyed the blessing that was his new son.

Ziva worried she would outstay her welcome, the tension with her brother and Emilie grew in the days which followed. Rylan, excited to have a son, remained consumed with providing everything, making the family wealthy, when Emilie wanted him to stop and enjoy what they had at the moment. Keeping Eliza distracted was difficult, she snuck off to see Patrick at every opportunity, unable to understand he was a baby. Emilie, pleased to have the extra help, knew Ziva wanted to get back to her life and cats, rather than play nanny and cook. Ziva had intended to leave after Patrick came home, it had been at Emilie’s request she stayed, Rylan grumbled, her presence was an inconvenience, an interruption to family life and his rhythm, primarily because Ziva used the bathroom, at his desired time. The hint taken, Ziva hugged Emilie, told her to call if needed and headed home where warm, furry welcomes were forthcoming.

Ziva: Animal Care

When it came to her cats, Ziva went above and beyond, her meals were bland, simple and if distracted, burnt. The cats had the finest gourmet dishes prepared for them, the taster was Patches, she purred, sat upon the fridge staring down at Ziva’s efforts. Dark chicken meat, reserved from the Sunday Roast, rice, potato and by distracting Patches with a sample, the secret ingredient, vitamins from the vet. Similar meals made with beef, pork, and various freshly caught fish her friend Jerome brought round. Their biscuits sat abandoned as both cats purred into their dinner.

Ziva believed the fresh food had a positive effect on her cats, her friends observed little difference, saying it was all in her head. They could admire the glossy coats, but whenever they visited the abundant energy seemed absent, both stretched over the sofa pretending to sleep, forcing the guests to stand. Spoilt? She ignored these comments, the vet seemed happy with their health and Ziva knew that during the twilight hours, Patches and Asher enjoyed a power surge with an urgent need to tear through the house. When Ziva slept, the evidence mounted, their vibrant energy and a vase, equalled a messy clean-up.

Ziva thought Patches accepted Asher eventually, the two ate and slept together. Being younger Asher wanted to assert his dominance, Patches remained the alpha cat, a swift paw or hiss put him back in line. He loved playing, toys scattered everywhere, Ziva slipped on his meowy ball, catching herself on the bannister, other days a catnip bird dropped in her cereal, a hint Asher wanted to play. On the opposite page, Patches enjoyed a stroll on the beach, lazing in the sunshine or any place she could get a few rays.

Brindleton Bay was full of stray animals, cats and dogs searching for meal, shelter, some love, and companionship. Ziva wondered what role she could play, she missed her voluntary work, and with her social life waning and a steady income from mobile phone apps. Whilst running she began to plan her mission, the key was preventing them from becoming ill, starving, or freezing to death in the Bay’s harsh winters. A mixture, wary animals, untrusting, bad homes or born to the wild, Ziva knew they needed people who cared, plus all that kibble her cats no longer ate.

Ziva identified two separate cat colonies, marking the beach at her house, the other occupied the underpass where she ran. The money raised from her apps went toward the Vet’s neutering program, they targeted these and other colonies across Brindleton Bay. She, meanwhile, brought timed kibble dispensers and made shelters, cosy wooden shipping crates, old clothes, and towels for bedding, and Styrofoam lined, Ziva read it could help keep them warm. Supriya and Jerome joined Ziva’s growing volunteer army, encouraging food on porches and help cleaning the shelters.

Locals raised concerns, believed to clean Brindleton Bay, rehoming strays would solve the problem, since the extra food encouraged rodents. Nothing could be further from the truth, removing colonies had harmful effects on both the animal and the environment they patrolled. Their neighbouring harbour town Evergreen Harbour was overrun with rats and mice, an issue which blighted fishing towns , except here. Cats stowed on fishing boats were lucky, black cats, in particular, Ziva grinned excitedly when one crossed her path. It was better to control the cat population than eradicate it, protecting their freedom and respecting their way of life.

Rylan: Emilie – Being Mum

Her role as mum has its moments, when she questions her choices, ability, punishes herself for being the worse and forgets to remember when doing her best that no-one will ever love her daughter the way she can. Eliza showed from the start her will is strong, her defiance when told “no”, Emilie cringed, the toddler screaming at her in the shop or park. People staring, Emilie held back her tears, desperate to calm her child. At home, Rylan unsupportive, blamed Emilie, Eliza splashing syrup and flour on the floor, her way to help in the kitchen. Sticking fingers over his books and laptop, he would phone home, yelling how his notes had crayon scribbles through them.

Emilie rubbed her stomach, thankful to avoid nausea that came with Eliza, however, she served food with added salt and squeezed lemon in her water. Both Eliza and Rylan found the food unpalatable, leading to Rylan firing up the barbecue, his daughter eager for her fruit kebab and yoghurt. Laid on the sofa, Emilie explained the baby growing inside, Eliza stuffed food in her mouth yoghurt in her hair and clothes. She handed Rylan her empty plate, climbed next to her mother, speaking soft to the bump, Eliza asked that it be a puppy. In the playgroup, Eliza’s friend Michelle had a brother and he was mean, another had a sister who stole their things, a puppy in Eliza’s eyes seemed a better choice.

Rylan busied himself, arranging a babysitter, dinner reservations, calling friends and family. Emilie pined for ice cream quiet, thick comfy socks, and a soppy movie. The idea of Birthday celebrations added to overwhelmed emotions, bouts of crying, worrying that the baby would hate her, and Eliza would reject them both. She tired easily, struggled to sleep, Rylan snored beside, the ceiling needed a lick of paint. Time ticked slow, Emilie tossed restless, knowing a day with Eliza would be harder unless she relaxed and slept.

Emilie wanted to tell Rylan his excitement to make a big fuss, while appreciated, she would be happier to forget it. She fastened her corset, loosening the ribbons to ensure her small bump had space, applied additional make-up to hide the dark circles. Rylan called upstairs, he had a pre-party surprise, plastering a smile she joined him in the Kitchen. Candles, white chocolate cake, his plan to stay home, the calls had been begging people to help him provide a dining experience at home, the two of them alone in the garden. He handed her the fluffy socks she craved, receiving an embrace in return, her perfect birthday.

Decompressing had been the solution to her sleep, she tackled the next few days with vigour. She believed as Eliza boogied to the radio that nothing would be stronger, this bond with her daughter was important. It broke her heart when Eliza pouted, wanting a little of her father’s attention, instead he went to work. Emilie distracted her with games, number and picture cards, reading and playing dolls, making her wonder if Eliza’s desire to learn came from wanting to impress Rylan, either way, this girl had some serious smarts.