Lucy:Love you too?
???
The following night–or perhaps it’s early morning–I get up with Cece. I know I’ll have to wake Lucy before long for her next feeding, but for now, Cece seems content to enjoy some daddy-daughter time with me. As long as she’s not fussing, I’m happy to let Lucy rest as long as possible.
I’m sprawled on my back on the sofa with my little girl curled against my bare chest. She’s warm, and soft and I can’t stop smelling her head. I might actually overdose on that sweet baby scent of hers, but I’ll die a happy man.
She makes a cute little grunting noise followed by a soft sigh and then nuzzles against my neck. My heart is so full I feel it could burst at any second.
I pull out my phone to start scrolling through a website on sleep training that Gemma had told me about before we left the hospital, when I notice a voicemail alert. Clicking through to my missed calls I see that it’s from my parents.
I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear anything they have to say. It’s been such a perfect day and the thought of listening to their message right now causes my stomach to twist, but ultimately curiosity gets the better of me.
I rub circles over my daughter’s back as I click play, unsure whether I’m trying to soothe her or myself. I’m unable to avoid the tensing of my body when the sound of my dad’s voice comes over the speaker, and I press the receiver tighter against my ear to make sure I don’t disturb Cece.
“Noah,” he starts, and I’ve never heard my father sound so unsure of himself. “Noah,” he repeats and there’s a long pause. “We heard you, son. We heard you, and we saw you. And well … we saw ourselves too. Through your eyes.” Another pause, then he continues, more quietly, “We didn’t like what we saw. We’ve had some long hard talks and … we even went to a therapist this morning. We’ve talked about the abuse you mentioned … my anger issues …” his voice cracks. “I’m sorry son, so sorry. We owe you apologies and so much more. You said you hoped we’d try, that we’d change. You said–” audible gulp. “You said it was too late. We’re hoping that’s not the case. We’re hoping you’ll give us one more chance, undeserved as we know it is. Please, Noah. Son. We want to know you. And we want to know your family. Christ, we– we don’t even know if you had a son or a daughter. But we want to be better. Wewilldo better. For themandfor you. Please consider it. We could all go to therapy together. At least for the first little while. The woman we saw is open to mediating meetings … Anyway, uh, we hope you’ll think about it. And … we hope to hear from your soon.”
The click when he disconnects is startling, and the silence that follows deafening. I never thought I’d see the day when my parents would be apologizing to me–andbeggingto be in my life. It’s so completely beyond my admittedly low expectations that I don’t even know what to think.
Therapy?!
Myparents?!
I really thought I was saying good-bye to them for good the other day, and I’d come to a place where I was okay with that, accepting of it. It’s a pretty quick turnaround on their part after almost thirty years of either abuse or apathy, but it’s also the first time I ever openly pushed back and shone a real light on their behavior. Sure, I had little rebellions, but they were easy enough for my self-involved parents to overlook. When I went completely against their wishes and decided to pursue a law enforcement career there still wasn’t ever any real confrontation, just a lot of passive-aggressive behavior on each of our parts.
I’m a little afraid to believe it, but the hope is rising furiously inside of me. I may end up regretting this, but I really want to give them another chance. Despite everything, Idowant them to know my family. Idowant them to experience the same joyIfeel when I look at my little girl.
Cece starts fussing then, and I’m thankful for the distraction from my racing thoughts as I cradle her to me and delicately rise from the sofa. She’s full-on crying by the time I make it back to the bedroom to find Lucy already sitting up in bed and blinking furiously to alertness at the sound. Her nightie, or rather, the old t-shirt of mine that she’s wearing (and that she admitted to sleeping in almost every night while we were apart) has two wet spots on the front where she’s leaking. Lucy reaches wordlessly for our daughter and I pass her the pillow before settling on the bed beside her.
Another hiss, like before, and Lucy’s eyebrows pull together with obvious discomfort as Cece latches. It’s followed quickly by a soft sigh of relief, though, and I let out my own long whoosh of breath. Apparently, I’d been holding it.
We sit in companionable silence, watching our daughter through the purply-grey light of pre-dawn spilling through the gaps in the blinds. I reach over and turn on the bedside lamp, the warm light illuminating Cece’s contented face and casting shadows over Lucy’s tired one. She looks over at me, her eyes roving over my shirtless body before finally taking in my own face. Whatever she reads there causes her to ask, “Are you alright?”
I’m still reeling over that voicemail and all its implications. Now is not the time to discuss it though, what with the sleep deprivation and all, so I just smile and nod, saying simply, “I will be.”
She stares at me for a long moment, before a soft smile creeps over her face. “Wewill be,” She whispers.
I lean in and brush a knuckle across Cece’s soft cheek, then repeat the same to Lucy. She leans into it and I curve my palm against her face.
“Love you, kitten,” I say quietly.
“I love you too, Noah. Always.”
A few minutes later Cece is burped and the three of us snuggle back against the pillows together. My baby girl is cradled against my chest, again making those happy little snuffling noises. Lucy curls into my side, tucking her head into the dip of my shoulder. I’m feeling optimistic about my parents even though I know we have a long road to tread before we can get to a place of true healing. Doesn’t matter, though, because I know that no matter what happens I’m blessed. I have great friends that I know I can count on and a job I like and that brings me satisfaction. I have an incredible woman, whom I love, who knocked me on my ass and upended my perfectly plotted life introducing instead the most wonderful sort of chaos; and who will one day be my wife. I have a beautiful daughter who, with a single glance, became my reason for living. A daughter who I will do anything for, and who now holds my beating heart outside of my body in her teeny-tiny little hands.
Together those two ladies light up my world where previously there was only darkness.
And as I gaze down at them, both wrapped safely in my protective arms, I know, whatever it took to get here … there’s no place I’d rather be.
EPILOGUE
LUCY
Four Months Later
“So how was brunch?” Steph asks. I’m seated with her and Piper on towels in the sand at our beach–that is, Noah’s and mine. Yep, that little private local’s only beach that served as the backdrop to our drunken hook-up just a little over a year ago.
It’s the place where Cece was conceived.
