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The baby doesn't sleep much, but then, neither does Red, not anymore. She tells herself she goes and gets him to be nice, because the others do sleep, at least a little, sometimes. He feels good against her chest, though, tucked into her arm. Solid and warm and unafraid.
Red is not sure if she envies him his innocence, or pities him, that he still has it to be taken.
She holds him long after he has fallen back asleep, his steady breath a balm. When she puts him down, the sky is tinged pink, and she can hear the Baker pounding out the dough. She can fall asleep to the violence being poured out upon its hapless shape.
*
Cinder wakes her up. She's kind about it, but she's not one to take no for an answer. And Red knows not to push it: Cinder will sing wake-up songs if she thinks it will get Red on her feet. Instead, since she is already standing, Cinder says, "C'mon, big day."
Cinder's already got smudges of flour on her nose, her cheeks. Red doesn't understand Cinder, who could have gone back to the palace, even if it had been a little in need of repair. Who could have gone back to a life of dresses and servants. Instead she's here, with the cow Jack keeps, and the daily bread-making, and all the corners that have to be swept out.
She never seems to think about up and leaving. If anything, the chores make her sing. One day Red thinks she will ask why. But today is a big day, a happy big day, and Red knows better than to ask questions on days that hold the promise of sweetness.
Instead she asks an easy question, one where the answer isn’t so important. "Are we making a cake?"
Cinder grins. "I guess you'll have to come and see."
*
Jack comes in with the milk just as they're about to go and drag him inside. He's good at doing his chores outside, with the cow, he just gets a little caught up in them, and then it's hard to get him to do anything else. Jack is maybe a little touched, Red thinks, but the thought is…soft, somehow.
The Baker smiles at Jack and says, "Perfect, just in time for the cream."
He sets Red and Cinder to taking turns whipping the milk into cream. Red enjoys it, it's mindless and it takes a toll on her body, one that might allow her to sleep later into the night than usual. Also, she has learned that good things always come of cream.
The Baker mixes something that causes a flour mixture to whoosh up into the air and the baby laughs, clean and bright and sweet.
*
Red goes with Jack when they all four decide the cake needs berries for topping. By himself, Jack will wander. By herself, Red will stay too close. Between the two of them, they'll find the berries and bring them back in time.
Jack picks flowers along the way, handing them over to her. She twines them through her hair, content with the sunlight and Jack's friendly silence. He hasn't talked as much, not since the giants. She's heard him cry out for his mom in the night, but Red is certain she does the same. It's not something she'd fault him for anyway.
She tells him, "You know the Baker has been talking about getting a chicken."
He smiles, kicks a pebble ahead of himself. "Cheaper than buying all those eggs all the time."
He picks another flower. She's running out of space in her hair, but she finds somewhere to put it.
*
The Baker lets her put the berries they find on the cake, along with some of the flowers. She makes it as pretty as possible. She's not sure why. The baby's not going to care.
She thinks his mother might have. She pushes the thought aside as soon as she has it. A little less than a year has not been enough time to grieve those she lost personally. She does not have room for the others losses, not yet. She is a little afraid of the day when she does. It's something else she's not ready to think about.
Right now she wants to be happy. The baby is turning one, and it seems like a sign that things really will go on, that they're not stuck, that no matter how slowly the world is turning, it is still revolving.
She puts one final flower in the center of the cake and presents it to the Baker. He laughs softly, a sound she is still unfamiliar with, says, "It's perfect, Red."
*
The baby smears the piece he's given across his entire face. Cinder laughs with more delight than the child himself and Jack gives him another piece to decimate. The Baker has the expression he gets when he's thinking about his wife.
Red cuts a second piece, a third, fourth and fifth. There's still a considerable amount left. Together, they'll finish the treat.