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I let out the breath I had been holding in my immediate panic.
“Oh, you’re awake. He was fussy, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Miles said.
“I slept through his being fussy?” I asked, panic still surging through my body. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet and I was already failing as a mother. I should have woken up as soon as the baby began making noises.
“Not exactly. The baby was restless. I picked him up before he could disturb you. It’s been less than five minutes. It appearsthat your natural motherly instincts have kicked in and you knew something was up with the baby,” he said.
Miles didn’t protest as I took our son from him. I held the baby close, terrified to take my eyes from him as if he would vanish on me again.
38
MILES
Lydia was fiercely protective of our son, as she should be. She didn’t want to put him down and only allowed me to hold him when she needed her hands for other things. I was almost jealous of the connection she had with him.
But I knew my job now, as a father, was to protect her so that she could protect him.
I made her food when she told me she was hungry and got her something to drink when she told me she was thirsty. I convinced her to let me hold the baby so that she could eat.
I could tell she was still tired, and I was convincing her to go back to bed to rest when Evie came through the front door.
“Merry Christmas, everybody,” she said.
And by everybody, she meant Lydia and the new baby. I was completely ignored. She carried a large, wrapped present. This is for you,” she said as she held out the giant box to Lydia. “Well, actually, it’s for him, but you get to open it.”
She turned and pushed the large box into my arms. I had no choice but to hold the box or let it fall to the floor.
“Let me hold the baby.”
“Sit down first,” Lydia commanded.
Evie sat, and Lydia gently handed over the baby.
“Okay, give her the box,” Evie directed me as she cooed and gazed lovingly down at the infant in her arms.
“I should get your present,” Lydia said as I handed her the large box.
“Nonsense,” Evie said. “You can give me my presents later. Right now, this is the only gift I want. Hi, Baby,” she cooed at my son. “I see that Santa delivered a tree. Did you stay up all night making paper chains and cutting out snowflakes?”
“Miles did that,” Lydia said.
“Really? I didn’t think you’d be that coordinated,” Evie equipped.
“There are some skills that one maintains from their elementary school days,” I said, not skipping a beat.
I was pretty sure that after Lydia’s intense delivery, Evie and I had come to an unspoken agreement. We didn’t have to like each other, but we were going to tolerate and get along with each other because we both loved Lydia so much. Maybe at some point, I would come to appreciate her scathing sense of humor, and maybe at some point, she would put up with me.
“Have you been outside at all?” Evie asked.
Lydia tore into the wrapping paper around her gift.
“No, we’ve been occupied,” I said.
“The entire town is absolutely snowed in,” she said. “So many people had their Christmas ruined by the storm, and the mayor called and asked me if I could help him with some kind of relief effort. I hope it’s okay. I let him know that you had your baby. He might come by to check in on you.”
“Oh, this is so lovely,” Lydia announced as she got the bassinet unwrapped and began opening the box. “Thank you, Evie, it’s perfect.”
There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. Mayor Dan stepped in. He stomped his feet a couple of times.