That afternoon, Papa's bedroom door was slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, Nathan could see Miss Kristin lying weakly on the bed, still wearing her house dress and a thin scarf on her head. Her breathing was slow. The effects of this morning's vomiting probably still left her feeling drained.
Nathan stepped in quietly, almost without a sound. He paused at the doorway, hesitating for a moment. Then, slowly, he approached. Miss Kristin tried to sit up, reflexively wanting to greet him.
"Just rest," Nathan said softly, his voice gentler than usual, not his typical sharp tone. He climbed up to the side of the bed and slowly stroked Miss Kristin's stomach, which hadn't yet rounded but already felt special.
"Little one, don't be naughty… or I'll get mad," he whispered, kissing gently the part of the blanket covering his stepmother's belly.
Miss Kristin froze for a few seconds, then her lips curved into a tender smile. There was a warm glimmer in her weary eyes, not from nausea, but because of Nathan. The little boy who usually resisted being touched had come on his own initiative.
"Thank you, sweetie…" Miss Kristin whispered softly. But Nathan had already gone, hurrying off the bed and out of the room, embarrassed at how long he had let his heart speak honestly.
---
As usual, Papa came home almost at midnight. His steps were slow as he opened the door, trying not to make a sound. Nathan was already fast asleep in his room, as always. The house was quiet, accompanied only by the slow whir of the ceiling fan.
In the living room, Miss Kristin sat on the sofa, still waiting. Her face was still pale but beginning to recover. As soon as she saw her husband arrive, she stood to greet him and then gently shared stories about Nathan, about the boy's sweet behavior that afternoon, about the whispers he had spoken to the baby in her belly.
Papa's tired face softened immediately. A warm smile appeared slowly, though his eyes still carried old wounds.
"That child… has been independent since he was a baby," he said softly, sitting on the sofa and resting his head on the backrest. "When he was born, his mother died. He slept alone in the baby room from day one. Never cried in the middle of the night, never asked to be accompanied… as if he knew, if he fussed, no one could help him." He paused for a moment. "From the very start… he seemed to understand: he had to be strong on his own."
Miss Kristin lowered her head. Guilt and admiration mingled in her heart.
—
A few months later, a baby girl was born, beautiful, sweetly dark-skinned, small but adorable. Her face looked so much like Miss Kristin's: chubby cheeks, soft milk-chocolate skin, and fine hair beginning to curl. Papa named her Kezia.
The house suddenly became lively. Oma seemed energized. She busied herself preparing the baby's room, washing tiny clothes by hand, and even making a colorful felt name decoration: Welcome, Baby Kezia!
Nathan just watched from behind the door. There was no jealousy on his face. But there was no smile either.
"Ah, now Oma doesn't have to make bottles anymore," Nathan thought as he sat on the stairs.
Back then, whenever Nathan was hungry, Oma would get up in the middle of the night, sterilize bottles, and stir the formula hastily by hand. Sometimes the bottles were too hot, sometimes not mixed properly.
But Kezia?
If she cried at night, she could just be nursed by her mother. Warm, natural, perfect.
Nathan let out a long sigh.
"Life's so easy for Kezia," he murmured.
"I… used to drink from a cow."
—
TWO 4-YEAR-OLD BOYS TALK
For three full months, Miss Kristin took a leave from school to care for Kezia. During that time, the house felt calmer. Although Nathan still kept his distance, at least there was no morning drama of having to go to school together while stifling frustration.
But that day, everything changed again.
Miss Kristin returned to teaching.
At first, everything seemed normal, her smile still sweet, her voice still gentle, her steps the same. But for Nathan, something felt off. He watched closely: Miss Kristin's face looked paler than usual, her movements slower, and… during recess, a "hoek!" sound came from behind the teachers' restroom.
Nathan's small eyes widened.
He stood stiffly near the shoe rack, trying to process his thoughts.
"Could it be…"
He swallowed hard.
"Could it be Mama Kristin is pregnant again?"
His eyes widened, not with joy, but more with exhaustion.
"Oh wow, Papa… that's amazing. I just started accepting Kezia, and now another one?!"
He sat on the small bench near the playground, folding his arms across his chest.
"Could it be… I'll have five little siblings? What, am I supposed to be a futsal team member?"
Nathan was still sitting on that small bench, staring at the little shoes of his classmates scattered outside the classroom. A gentle breeze swayed the tree branches and the strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. But his mind was still in turmoil.
He remembered clearly, when Miss Kristin was pregnant with Kezia, the symptoms were the same: morning nausea, pale face, and often sitting while rubbing her belly. And now… all of that was happening again.
Nathan sighed deeply. "So I'm going to be a big brother again? Kezia just started looking around."
Suddenly, a small hand tapped his shoulder. His classmate, Nino, offered him a biscuit.
"Here, for you. Your face looks like Mama just scolded you."
Nathan took the biscuit, but his smile was flat. "I wasn't scolded… I'm just… tired of being a big brother."
Nino frowned. "You only have one sibling."
Nathan turned and whispered, "Looks like there's going to be more."
Nino's eyes went wide. "Cool! You'll have lots of playmates!"
Nathan shook his head. "If there are too many siblings, Papa and Mama Kristin will pay less attention to each. Kezia will cry, and I'll be told to take care of her. If the new baby cries too, I'll have to carry it. Then… who am I? Big brother or babysitter?"
Nino laughed out loud, but Nathan just pouted more.
In his heart, he muttered, "I better get ready. Looks like my life's turning into a soap opera."
"Do you have a younger sibling?" Nathan asked while biting into half his biscuit, his eyes still gazing out the classroom window.
Nino shook his head quickly. "I've got two older sisters. Both of them. Annoying."
Nathan turned, curious. "Why annoying?"
"They spend forever in the bathroom doing makeup. If I need to pee, I have to hold it until my legs shake. And they boss me around all the time. Even though I'm younger, they tell me to carry the water jug, hang the laundry, all that stuff."
Nathan snorted. "So it's better to have younger siblings, then?"
Nino shrugged. "Not always. If the little one's a crybaby, it's trouble. Play a bit, fall a bit, cry. Then you'll be the one who gets blamed."
Nathan fell silent. "Kezia can't play yet. But soon she will… And maybe… there'll be another baby, too."
Nino's jaw dropped. "Wow, you could form your own soccer team!"
Nathan gave a crooked grin. "If I'm the captain, that's fine. But if I'm stuck babysitting all the players, that's exhausting, Nino."
Nathan stared at the classroom ceiling, then glanced at the educational toys in the corner, which suddenly seemed dull and uninteresting.
Inside, he grumbled, "I'm only four years old… and already this stressed about having siblings. One of them just learned to roll over, and she's already stealing everyone's attention. If there's really going to be another baby, ugh…"
He tapped his forehead lightly. "Seriously, why is Papa so productive? It's like he's competing for the fastest Family Card fill-up. What's next, aiming to be some soap opera dad with a thousand kids?"
Nathan let out a quiet snort, while beside him Nino was still happily stacking colorful blocks.
"I bet I'm the only preschooler in the world who has to worry about my parents' family planning."