I give it a thumbs up.
Lydia and Maya have agreed that if anything were to happen to me, they would raise Savannah, and I had to agree to share my location and check in. Is it overbearing? No, not even a little.
I close my eyes and listen as the city hums faintly through the walls. I pull the cotton blanket over myself, one hand resting on the edge of Savannah’s carrier, and expect to feel uneasy about this whole thing, but I don’t.
THREE
Morning
Claudia
Thankfully,I wake before Savannah even stirs, hand still on the car seat's handle. The room is dim, the first gray light of morning spilling through the slats in the blinds. I turn to my side and glance down, heart full, as I watch her sleep and listen to the sound of her breathing beside me.
When I finally lean over and unbuckle her from the car seat, she makes a tiny sound of protest, halfway between a sigh and a squeak. Her little body stretches instinctively, arms reaching up, legs kicking weakly against the blanket. Her fingers uncurl, slow and deliberate, before she brings one to her mouth, missing her thumb but trying anyway.
I feel guilty that she slept in the car seat all night, rather than in the crib I have in an online cart, waiting to purchase when I find our new home. But the seat is safer than the bed.
I smooth my palm over her hair, soft dark hair with the faintest curl starting to show, and whisper, “Good morning, my sweet.”
Her eyelids flutter lashes thick against her cheeks, and her lips purse in a sleepy pout. I lift her gently into my arms, and she gives another soft stretch, her tiny fist brushing against my collarbone.
When her mouth starts to search, her chin bobbing in that familiar way, I shift her in my arms and pull my shirt aside. She latches almost immediately, her little brow furrowing in concentration before her whole body relaxes. The sound that follows is the quiet, rhythmic swallow that’s become my favorite sound in the world.She’ll never be hungry.
Her cheeks are full and pink, her eyes still half-closed, lashes trembling as she drifts in and out of that drowsy space between hunger and comfort. One small hand rests against my chest, the other curls into the fabric of my shirt.
I brush my thumb along the curve of her jaw and breathe her in — that faint, warm scent that’s all baby, my baby.
When she slows, I lift her carefully to my shoulder, rubbing small circles on her back until she gives a soft, contented burp that almost makes me laugh.
“Good girl,” I whisper against her hair.
She stirs, eyes blinking open now, blue-green like shallow water under the sun in Maui. Her lips work silently for a second before she gives a small, sleepy smile.
“Hungry still?” I ask, even though I already know.
I settle her on the other side, and she nuzzles against me, patient but with purpose. She latches again, slower this time, her eyelids heavy but her little hand still gripping my shirt as if to make sure I don’t go anywhere.
“I’ll never leave you.” I promise.
When Savannah finishes, I lift her to my shoulder, rubbing slow circles on her back. She lets out a burp that’s far louder than her size should allow.
I laugh softly. “That was a good one, my sweet.”
From somewhere outside the door, Nalani laughs too, the sound warm and amused.
I smile and whisper to Savannah, “Guess you impressed your new auntie.”
Carefully, I pull the blanket over my shoulder and stand, stretching out my stiff legs before opening the bedroom door. Nalani is sitting up on the couch, swallowed up by the comforter, hair pulled up in a messy bun.
“I’m sorry if we woke you,” I say quietly.
She shakes her head, grinning. “You and I are going to have a long conversation about you constantly apologizing.”
I can’t help laughing. “Can we do that after I pee?”
“Oh my God, go,” she says, laughing harder now. “Gimme Savannah and pee, shower, do whatever you need to do.”
I hesitate, Savannah squirming lightly in my arms. “Are you sure?”
