Jasper lingered in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and breaking down cardboard boxes.
Emotions overwhelmed me once more as I watched him. I had a child. With a man I barely knew. And I’d have to figure that out. In this ridiculous hormonal postpartum state.
“We made a schedule,” Ruby declared. “We’ve got meal deliveries set up, and we’re all taking shifts so we can help clean and hold Vincent so you can shower and nap.” She tapped at her phone screen.
“I’ve set up calendar alerts as well. We’ve got you covered.”
Jasper walked into the living room, his eyes filled with uncertainty and maybe a little hurt. “Should I send you my schedule at the firehouse? I typically work twenty-four on and twenty-four off, but I can shift to twelves if that works better. Chief owes me after all the overtime I’ve been putting lately.”
Ruby smiled at him. “Sure. You have my number? Text it to me.” She eyed me, then stood. “Let’s clean up and give them some privacy.”
Frankie, Basil, and Etienne jumped up and immediately started collecting bowls.
“I’ll change Vincent,” I said. Ruby had just done it, but I was desperate to escape this awkwardness. There was no plan here. No playbook. It was bad enough I had to figure out how to take care of a newborn, but with Jasper around?
I was being unfair, but it took all I had to hold it together as I clutched Vincent to my chest and shuffled down the hall. I’d wallpapered it with bright green stripes to make it feel roomier, but it was still pretty dark. I passed my room, heading for the spare room, discovering after a moment that Jasper followed.
Nerves skittered through me as he padded on socked feet behind me. He was Vincent’s father, but the fear of being away from my child gripped me tightly. This baby needed me. And the last thing I wanted was to hand him over to another person and walk away. But that was how this worked, right?
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Not today. We’d figure it out later.
I pushed open the door to the spare room and immediately sucked in a sharp breath.
The cramped space had been transformed. The bottom three feet or so of the walls were covered in dark green beadboard with an ornate chair rail. The top half had been painted, the scene depicting mountains and trees in pastel shades of green and blue.
A beautiful oak crib stood on one side of the room, framed prints hung on the wall, and the shelves were full of children’s books.
The matching oak changing table was stocked with perfectly arranged diapers and wipes.
Tears filled my eyes again. This was too much.
“Do you like it?” Jasper asked quietly from the doorway.
I nodded, biting my lip to keep the sobs inside. This wasn’t who I was. I was organized. Strategic. I planned my life with precision.
And now I was fumbling to change a diaper while Jasper watched.
Jesus. Get it together, Evie.
“Do you want me to help?” he asked as he moved closer.
“No.” The single word came out more clipped than I’d intended, and a rush of guilt hit me. I inhaled and let the air back out slowly. “Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got it.”
I surveyed him, searching for words. I wanted him around, for Vincent, but I also needed to figure out how to take care of him on my own. I ached for space. I didn’t need help. I’d been crushing it as a one-woman show for almost thirty-five years.
I rubbed circles over Vincent’s back. He was so precious. I wanted to clutch him to my chest and never let anyone close, not even Jasper. Especially not Jasper. He meant well, standing there with his broad shoulders filling the room, offering his time to us like it was the easiest thing in the world.
But I knew men like him. He’d show up until he didn’t. Men broke promises, leaving the people they supposedly cared aboutholding the pieces. I’d named Vincent after the only man I’d ever trusted. After my grandfather, every other man I’d met had disappointed me in one way or another. So I’d built a life on my own, and I wouldn’t change that now.
“I brought that from the farm.” Jasper nodded at the corner of the room.
My heart stuttered. The rocking chair was solid, made of thick, dark wood, the back carved ornately.
“My dad built it for my mom when she was pregnant with my oldest sister. And she used it for each one of us. He carved our names and birthdays on the back.”
He turned the chair around and ran his large hand down the back of it.
Sure enough, Jennifer, Jessica, Joshua, and Jasper were all carved into the wood, along with dates.
