Page 46 of Lover
“Come on, Callum. It’s time.”
***
The birth of our daughter was a whirlwind, a pandemonium of maids turned temporary nurses running to and fro to gather all that Dr. Hannigan required. One of them tried to shoo me out of the room, only to be chased off by Ms. Dillard.
“They’re married, for goodness’ sake. Nothing he hasn’t seen before.”
“That’s very modern of you, Helen,” I said, giddy as an idiot, and she slapped me across the shoulder with a fresh rag and urged me to the bed where Millie lay laboring, breath coming in short, heavy gasps. She didn’t look at me, too focused on givinglife,but immediately grasped the hand I offered as I knelt by the bedside.
Our child came swiftly into the world, eager to face all of its joys and challenges, and Hannigan handed her to Millie, full of pride.
“Beautiful, just beautiful,” he said, then looked at me with a far-away smile often seen on the faces of those with long histories. Perhaps he was recalling the once-upon-a-time he’d handed me to my own mother in just the same way.
It seemed to take longer to clear the room of the well-meaning maids who wished to coo over the baby than it had for the infant to make her debut, but at last, the quiet had settled, and I sat next to Millie in bed, admiring the newest addition to our lives.
“Another little mischief maker,” I said, looking into that precious face, chubby and soft, and wholly perfect.
“Callum,” Millie said, adjusting the white blanket beneath the baby’s chin, “I know we’d agreed on the name Sarah if it was a girl, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh? What will we call her, then?”
“Abigail,” she whispered, and I glanced up, surprised. Millie smiled at me, misty eyed. It took me a moment to compose myself.
“My mother’s name,” I finally managed, wiping away the tears that had spilled onto my cheeks.
“Yes,” she replied, knowing she’d touched me.
Downstairs, the clock struck midnight, and voices raised in Auld Lang Syne. I sat with my wife, our daughter sleeping at her breast, our sons tucked into their cots where they’d been placed after the chaos of the birth had woken them. My family was whole, and it was the only thing I had ever wanted.
Beyond the window, snow fell over the gardens, enveloping it in the mantle of winter, which no longer felt so cruel andendless. Joy and prosperity had returned to this house, and it blossomed, nourished by the love that filled it daily. There were no more thoughts of curses, no haunted corners, no lonely halls. Willowfield was finally at peace again. And so was I.