Rosie miraculously hadn’t started crying again, but I was afraid to move a muscle.
I carefully reached for the TV remote. “Okay, Rosebud, what will it be? Arn? Basketball? Hockey? Definitely not the news. Then no one would calm down.” I found us all a good basketball game and settled in.
I eyeballed the baby out of the corner of my eye. She was still sucking on her fingers and definitely not crying. Maybe she felt safe in a bigger set of arms, I didn’t know. Maybe my deep voice was more soothing. Maybe I was a novelty. Maybe it was the squeak-squeak-squeak of expensive basketball shoes on the court. Or maybe her gut had somehow magically calmed down.
I figured that if I could only keep her quiet for an hour, Ani would get some rest. And when she got up, I was going to make sure that she got all the help she needed. That meant I was going to be here too, if she’d let me.
Ani
I woke on my own with the sinking feeling that I’d slept way too long. Longer than I had since I’d left my normal life behind, which seemed like a lifetime ago. I had another strange feeling too—being rested. Bright sunshine streamed through the window, indicating that it was actually after dawn, a novel sight.
Then it all came back to me. The helpless exhaustion, Adam at my door, me handing over the baby and heading for bed.
I covered my head with the pillow. Did I really do that? It felt desperate. And incompetent. And the baby—where was the baby?
Before I could catastrophize too much, I threw on my robe and ran to the family room, where I was stopped in my tracks by an amazing scene—Adam fast asleep in the recliner, the baby’s bassinet at his side. Rosalie was sleeping on her back, swaddled carefully in her Packers blanket, her hands up near her head. Out like a light.
Adam wore scrub pants and a black Journey T-shirt, his bare feet sticking out over the footrest, his hair mussed, his muscled arms crossed over his nice chest. The Packers throw was askew across his long body. I would be lying if I said my gaze didn’t linger on him in this messy, chaotic state—and it made my heart squeeze.
Scattered baby bottles, water glasses, and plates were everywhere. Along with the TV remote and Adam’s eyeglasses, meaning he must have taken out his contacts. The floor and table lamps were all on, despite the strong morning sun flowing through the windows.
Arnie was fast asleep in a sunbeam. Passed out flat on his back with his big paws in the air, silly dog.
Adam had given me not an hour but an entire night of sleep, while sacrificing his own, a precious gift. And maybe—I hoped, I hoped—he’d done it for the baby as well.
I grabbed his phone and took photos of the two of them sleeping—well, okay, three, because I included Arnie too. I wanted to remember this forever. Had Adam rocked her to sleep? Had an intimate, one-on-one, middle-of-the-night conversation? Or had he held her at arm’s length and done only what was necessary and no more? No, somehow, I knew he hadn’t done that.
I tried to rein in the feeling that this was what I wanted, what I’d always wanted. This messy life right here in front of me.
I understood that I was a dreamer, sometimes a wild dreamer who got wrapped up in schemes, and most sane people did not follow along. But maybe he would. Maybe I wouldn’t be too much for him.
And maybe we were just what he needed too.
As I was tucking the covers around the still sleeping baby, Adam stirred. “Hey,” he said in a groggy tone.
“Hey,” I said back.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked as he stretched his arms over his head. Which was also pretty hot.
“Better,” I said, “thanks to you.” I thought about what I needed to say. “I can’t thank you enough.” I paused. “It was unfair of me to do what I did.” Which was basically dump the baby in his arms and flee.
He pushed the footrest of the recliner down and sat up. “I disagree. You reached a limit. You accepted some help before you reached the end of your rope.”
I sat down on the arm of his chair. Our shoulders touched, but I didn’t move away. Neither did he. “This situation was my fault,” I said in a low voice. “I waited too long to make a decision on Dylan.”
“Can I ask why?” He looked a little sheepish. Like the answer mattered. It occurred to me that he might be jealous. That might have made me laugh if my situation hadn’t been so dire.
“He’s a good clinician, so I wasn’t worried about that. But we went our separate ways all that time ago for good reasons. I didn’t want him back in my life.” I was proud to say that I was restrained. I didn’t say anything like, “You thinkI’mprone to wild schemes….” And I even left my suspicions that Dylan wanted something other than a temporary job out of our discussion.
“You didn’t want him back in your life,” he repeated, like he was digesting that. “Good,” he said definitively. Then he changed the subject. “This is an exhausting job, Ani. I get it.” His hair was sticking up on the right side. I reached over and smoothed it down.
He grabbed my hand and held it next to his cheek.
I melted.
I had so many questions. Did he start to fall in love with Rosie as I had, right from the start? Or was he ready to take off this morning and go back to the way we were?
“Can we talk?” he asked.
