“She’s asleep,” Mom said, crossing the room. “Shall I put her down?”
I nodded. We’d been home four days. Mom did the laundry. Dad managed the kitchen. Chance had been assembling the outrageous number of contraptions required to keep the baby happy and settled. Swing. Bassinet. Crib. Changing table. And some stuff I couldn’t fathom actually using, like this play thingamajig with silver bars and hideous half-baked animal shapes in black and white. It looked like baby jail.
I kissed the baby’s warm, soft cheek. She smelled of milk and Dreft detergent. Mom carried her away and I settled back on the sofa. Yes, motherhood was just fabulous.
Dad came back in the room. He wore trim jeans and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows. His hair was just now really starting to show its gray. Perfect timing for a grandpa. “I’m going to head back to the hotel,” he said. “Got some work things to handle before I fly home tomorrow.”
“Okay, Daddy.” I hated to see him go. He’d been great manning the kitchen. Hopefully Chance would take that over. My girl parts still felt like they’d been bludgeoned by a meat tenderizer.
“I’ll be by in the morning before I’m off.” He leaned down and kissed my head. “You’re doing great, princess.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said.
Mom came back in the room. “See you tomorrow, Dennis,” she said. I knew the two of them had been playing nicey-nice for my benefit. For two people who hadn’t seen each other much in the past ten years, they were doing pretty well.
Babies brought out the best in people.
When Dad had gone, Mom sat next to me on the sofa. “Jenny, I heard from work yesterday, and I need to go put in a few hours tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll be back in the afternoon.”
A little tendril of panic shot through me. “But Daddy’s leaving too.”
She patted my arm. “I know. It will just be a few hours. It will give you and Chance a little time with the baby.”
“But I’m not ready.” My face flushed. Chance didn’t know a blessed thing about the care of the baby.
Actually, neither did I. My mother handled all the diapers and the changing. I just did the boob thing, which luckily had gone pretty well so far.
“You’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m going to catch a little shut-eye now in case she wakes up in the night. Sleep when the baby sleeps!”
She headed for the nursery. She was spending her nights on a rollaway cot in there for now.
Chance passed her on the way, holding two metal pipes painted bright pink. “Thanks, Mama G,” he said. “I’ll finish this in the morning.”
“Is that the swing?” she asked.
“It will be.”
“Good. Jenny loved her swing when she was a baby.” She yawned. “I’ll bring the baby for a feeding if she needs it.”
“I pumped some in the fridge,” I said, “so you don’t have to wake us.”
She nodded. “All right, then.” She disappeared down the hall.
Chance set the pipes on the coffee table and sat next to me. “I thought you were having trouble with the pump.”
My lips turned down. “I managed to get a little out. But I feel like a big old cow with that thing hooked up to me.”
Chance flashed me a wicked grin. “I think it’s kinda cool that they have big see-through cones.”
I punched him in the arm. He had stripped off his flannel button-down and wore just a thin white sleeveless shirt with his jeans. He looked hot and sexy, like a rock star on his day off.
Meanwhile, I was pathetic in a big blue nightdress with boob panels that were always gaping, and no amount of nursing pads kept the milk stains away.
And I still hadn’t fixed my hair color. I was half pink, half dull brown, like a melted double-scoop ice cream cone.
Tears dripped down my face. “Everybody’s leaving me tomorrow,” I said.
He scooted in close. “They’ve been a big help, haven’t they?” he said. “But we’ve got to figure this out sometime, don’t we?”
I sniffed. “We don’t even have a name for her!”
He draped his arm around me. “Well, let’s figure it out. What were our contenders?”
“Rain, Phoenix, Lyric, and Jane.”
I could feel his stomach tighten as he stifled a laugh. “One of those names is not like the others.”
I bumped my shoulder against his chest. “Hush up. We don’t know anything about her. She could be very studious and straitlaced.”
“Is that the Jane?”
“No, silly, that would be Lyric.”
“Wait. Lyric is the studious one?”
“Of course! She’ll study music! Like her dad.”
“So, which one is the wild, pink-haired minx like her mother?”
“That would be Jane.”
“Okay…but isn’t that the plainest name?”
“I’m Jenny!”
He had to laugh at that. “Okay. You’ve got me there. So, who is Rain?”
“She’s earthy and calm, like a summer shower.”
Chance raised an eyebrow. “You really think either of us could raise one of those?”