Hope scans the boardwalk, probably looking for the closest empty bench so she can sit and nurse him, even though she fed him half an hour ago at my apartment.
Harmony Glen’s local doctors aren’t experienced with troll infants, but they’ve been connecting with other physicians across the country to become better informed. Based on the available data—formal and informal—Cagrü’s ravenous appetite is typical for a newborn troll. And he’s gaining steadily, much more rapidly than a human baby typically does, so there’s no concern that his need to feed so frequently is rooted in a nutritional deficit.
Baby is thriving. As for his mom… Hope is healing well from the surgery, but the deep shadows below her eyes are visualevidence that she’s physically exhausted. Ogram is doing what he can to help, even suggesting she switch to formula, or use it supplementarily, so he could take on some of the feedings, but Hope gave him a firm no.
Whatever she chooses, she has my support. Right now, she also has my arms.
“Come to Nana, sweet boy,” I say, lifting him and settling his head against my shoulder. Some cooing, a bit of gentle bouncing, and soft pats on his tiny bottom do the trick. The squirming and lip-smacking taper off, his breathing settling into a steady rhythm.
Hope exhales, the tension leaving her shoulders. “He never falls asleep that quickly in my arms. You have the magic touch.”
“No magic. I’m just better rested and don’t smell like breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.”
Her quiet giggle ends with a softer sigh as she angles her head and smiles at the dark-haired bundle in my arms. “He’s so beautiful.”
“The most beautiful child in the world,” I say, stroking the silky-soft dark-brown fluff bordering his perfect little green face.
“I don’t even care that he never lets me sleep more than a couple hours at a stretch, and sometimes I’m so tired, I actually cry. Or that my hands are drier than the desert from washing them constantly. Or that I’ve gone through more menstrual pads in the past two weeks than in my entire life and it’s starting to feel as if I’ll never stop bleeding. He’s worth every second of frustration, inconvenience, ruined clothing, panic, self-doubt, sleep deprivation, and fear. I love him so much.”
“A mother’s love.”
“In this case. But take away the baby-specific stuff and the rest applies to Ogram, too. My love for him is part of me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and I know he feels the same.Mate bond love.” Her gaze lifts from the baby’s face to mine. “You know what it feels like.”
I do. That’s why the first thing I did this morning was look at flights to Los Angeles, even though the subject of going with him never made it into any recent conversation. The second thing I did was go through the summer schedule for the bar to see when staff had booked time off, and contemplate who could do the day-to-day managerial stuff if I were away for an extended period.
Getting a flight would be no problem. Keeping my business operational at its current level without being present…less so. But what does it matter if I’m just going through the motions? If I’m not with the person I love most?
“Cate?” Hope’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. The concern in her tone is also visible in her expression. Dark eyebrows pinched together at the bridge of her nose. Lips no longer curved in a smile.
“I have to go. Not literally now. I mean to Los Angeles. Maybe other places too. I promise I won’t stay away for long, but I have to be with him before he gets on a tour bus again. Figure out how to get the most time together, this summer and beyond.”
“Finally!” she says, her big green eyes twinkling.
“What do you mean, ‘finally’? He only left yesterday morning.”
“You’ve had two weeks to sort this all out, and though I’m sure you were busy making up for lost time in other ways,” she wiggles her eyebrows, “I think you avoided talking about future plans because you were afraid of getting hurt again, despite both of you havingfinallyconfessed your undying love.” She raises her index finger when I open my mouth to speak. “Also, ‘finally’refers to you realizing you need to engage in important, open, honest communication in the moment it’s needed, unlike the last time he left town, and in the years since.”
People walk past us on the boardwalk. Gulls squawk overhead. A gentle summer breeze carries children’s laughter from where they play in the water at the lake’s edge.
But from me…silence. Because she’s right.
Her expression contorts into an apologetic grimace. “Did I go too far with that last part?”
“No, my dear. And if you were wrong, I wouldn’t hesitate to let you know.”
Smiling, she shakes her head. As my former employee, she knows it to be true. “So, what’s the plan, and how can I help?”
I carefully lay the precious sleeping baby in his stroller, then do another thing I should’ve started doing a long ago—not wait for duress or sadness as a reason to wrap my arms around the young woman who gifted me with friendship, motherhood, and grandmotherhood. “You’ve already helped so much. Your presence has changed my life.”
“You said no hugging because it makes you cry.”
“Worth it.” I give her a tighter squeeze before releasing her and wiping the moisture from my cheeks. “Want to skip the boardwalk today and head over to Dorvak’s bakery for a treat instead?”
“God, yes. I’m starving all the time.”
“Of course you are. You’re still eating for two, and your plus-one has a lot of growing to do,” I say, commandeering the handle of the stroller wagon. Must soak up every minute of Nana privileges while I can, because who knows how long it will be until the next time. But as much as I’ll miss them both, I know in my heart that I’m making the right choice.
CATE
