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The bathroom door moves slightly and Stevie Nicks slinks into the room. She eyes me momentarily and I wonder if she’s going to bark and wake Juniper up. I drop my hand for her to sniff, she does, and the lets out the most dramatic sigh I’ve ever heard.
“I hear ya. I’m sure you don’t much sleep with the babies around.” Stevie Nicks lays next to the rocker and watches me for a bit until she puts her head down. I do the same, soaking in as much as I can before Juniper’s mean mama comes to take her from me.
“Quinn.”
My hand tightens around Juniper as her mother tries to take her from me.
“Go away,” I mumble while keeping my eyes closed.
“She has to eat.”
“She’s not crying.”
“I know but I need her on the same schedule as the boys.” Peyton slips her hand between my chest and her daughters, my grip tightens.
“Can I feed her?”
Peyton pauses. “Do you want to?”
I nod. “I want to help while I can.”
“All right. I’ll go get her a bottle.” Peyton leaves the room just as Noah walks in.
“We didn’t get to talk much when you were here last,” he says as he sits on the floor next to Stevie Nicks. “How are things going?”
“Everyone asks me that,” I tell him. “Is there something written on my forehead that says I’m struggling?”
Noah shakes his head. “But as your friend—an astute one—I might add, I notice things.”
“Such as?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Such as, my wife gave birth a month ago and Nola hasn’t texted her. Your sister expected you to tell your fiancé that the babies arrived, and when Peyton didn’t hear from Nola after a few days, she felt like it would be awkward to send a ‘hey the babies are here’ text.”
Fuck.
With my freehand, I scrub my face. No one wants to have a deep conversation in the middle of the night, let alone one about your love life. Juniper whimpers. Noah starts to get up, but I shake him away. I can do this and pull her higher, onto my shoulder, and hum softly to her.
Peyton comes in with a bottle, stops at Juniper’s changing table, and then comes over to me. She helps me get set up and as soon as I have my niece cradled, Peyton rubs her daughter’s rosy cheek. It lifts a little in a half-smile.
“My sweet baby, it’s time to eat,” Peyton says softly. “Take the tip of the nipple and rub it against her lips.”
“Um . . .”
Noah cackles in the corner while Peyton groans. “You two need to grow up.”
“I can’t help it,” I say. “I’m childish.”
“Well, stop or I’m telling mom.” She then looks at Noah. “And then I’m telling your mom.”
Noah stops immediately, but my chest still vibrates even though I’m trying stop. Peyton reaches for Juniper. I block her with my arm. “I’ll stop,” I tell her. “Promise.”
My sister eyes me warily and hands me the bottle, although reluctantly. She sighs and stands, and even though he’ll probably deny it later, I see Noah give her a subtle nod to leave the room. Peyton gives us one last look and then closes the door to the bathroom.
Noah waits a beat and then looks at me.
I stare down at my niece and marvel at home the human body works. She’s sleeping or at least pretending to be and eating. “Does she always sleep through her feedings?”
“No, usually she’s wide awake, giving Maverick a run for his money in the screaming department.”