19. Luke: You Are A Father

NINETEEN

LUKE – YOU ARE A FATHER

E yelids still heavy with sleep, I stretch out under the warmth of the duvet. I'm about to roll over for just five more minutes of sleep when I see Seven standing at the window, bathed in the cool, blue light of dawn.

"Luke, come look at this," she whispers.

Grumbling playfully, I shuffle out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My feet touch the cold floor, sending a shiver up my spine, but it's quickly forgotten as I join her at the window. The sight that greets me pulls a low whistle from my lips.

“A real white Christmas.”

She beams up at me. “Grace is going to love this.”

Snow blankets everything in sight. It looks like the landscape of a holiday card. The mountains in the distance are a jagged line of white against the brighter sky. I wonder if Tank will try to tempt us into skiing over the next few days, with the lure of fresh powder. Growing up, I never went skiing, and always thought of it as a rich person’s hobby. It’s funny to look back at that now.

How things have changed.

But I have to confess to enjoying it. There’s nothing quite like that first burst of speed, crisp air in your lungs, and the cold air whipping against your cheeks as you race down the mountain.

"I bet the guys will want to hit the slopes tomorrow."

Seven turns, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, Tank and Emma are really knocking it out of the park for their first Christmas hosting here."

I give her a playful nudge. "Didn’t you say we should host one year? How are we ever going to top this?"

"Oh, I have ideas," she says with a mysterious smile. "But let's not worry about that yet. It’s Christmas!"

She walks over to the portable crib in the corner where Winter has been sleeping. I walked her around for a few hours last night while reading a book aloud and that seemed to tire her out.

“Is she still asleep?”

Seven nods. “I wish I hadn’t forgotten the baby monitor. We could sneak downstairs and let her sleep in a little."

"Hold that thought," I tell her with a knowing grin, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before slipping out of the room.

I take the stairs two at a time, until I reach the great room. I find my gift quickly since it’s the only one wrapped in geometric print paper. When I get back to the room, Seven has already changed clothes into some soft blue sweatpants and a huge hoodie.

"Open this." I hand her the gift.

She looks at me suspiciously. "You want me to open it privately? Did you get something dirty?”

I growl playfully. “No, but maybe I should have.”

She carefully pulls the paper off, and discards it on the bed. Then she looks at me in wonder. My gift to her is a state-of-the-art baby monitor that can link to an app on her phone. So she doesn’t have to carry so many things. All you need is the camera and your phone functions as the receiver.

"Luke! This is perfect!" She clutches the box to her chest. “I felt so bad for forgetting the monitor. Now I know why you were so confident when you said that we didn’t need it.”

“This is the best model on the market. And since you only have to carry the camera, you’re less likely to forget it. Which means less worry for you.”

She sighs. “I guess I haven’t been hiding how stressed out I am very well.”

“You have. But I know you.”

That seems to break through the calm face she’s putting on. Her shoulders sag and she turns into my arms, burying her face against my neck.

“I’ve been trying so hard to keep it under wraps, but it's overwhelming sometimes," she confesses.

"You know you don't have to hide it from me."

"I know but you have enough to worry about already.” Her words are muffled against the fabric of my shirt. “I worry about Winter all the time. It’s gotten so bad that I hate to leave her for any amount of time. I know that’s not healthy.”

“No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean it’s uncommon. A lot of parents get overwhelmed.”

“It’s just that I want to keep her safe. She’s trusting me to keep her safe."

Suddenly I understand where all this is coming from. “You won’t let her down. Not the way your mom let you down.”

She bites her lip. “What do I know about being a mom when mine left me and Grace behind?”

I take her hand and lead her to the bed. We sit together as Seven swipes furiously at the tears on her cheeks. She sniffles. “I hate that I’m crying about this.”

“You’re crying because this is important to you. Which is how I know that you are the best mom for Winter. You know what it’s like to be neglected. Our daughter will never have to experience that. She’ll always know that her mom will be there no matter what.”

She looks up at me with a grateful smile. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Just like that, a weight seems to lift from her shoulders, as she lets out a long breath. “So let’s get this new monitor set up.”

Luckily, I opened the box and tested it before wrapping it to make sure it worked. So all I have to do is set the camera up on the dresser and get it angled perfectly. Then I pair it with both of our phones.

"Check this out." I turn the phone so she can see the image on the screen, Winter sleeping peacefully in her portable crib.

Seven slips her hand into mine. "You and your gadgets.”

“This gadget means we can go eat breakfast in peace.”

We sneak out of the room quietly and walk downstairs. The great room is dark and quiet, since no one else is awake yet. Suddenly the curtains start moving and I jump, startled at the sound.

Seven snickers. “I think the curtains are automatic.”

“I can see that. Man, look at that view.” As the curtains pull back, the same view we have upstairs is revealed, the stunning mountains blanketed in white.

I snag a couple of Christmas cookies from the plate on the table—breakfast of champions—and hand one to her. She takes a small bite, before pulling her phone out. The baby monitor app comes up on her phone and she smiles.

Then she sees me watching.

"Sorry," she mutters.

I wave away her apology. "Don't be. You're an incredible mom. Worrying is part of the job." I pause, aware that my next words need to be delivered with care. "But I do think talking to someone might help."

She pauses with a cookie halfway to her mouth. Then she takes a small bite. “Like a therapist?”

"Yes. You're always looking out for Winter, and I'm looking out for both of you. I want you to be okay, and that includes emotionally." I take a seat on the couch. I don’t want her to feel like I’ve ambushed her with this conversation but it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.

There's a beat of hesitation before she takes another bite of her cookie. Then she comes around the couch and sits next to me. "I think that would be a good idea, actually. You’ll come with me, right?”

"Of course. If that’s what you want. Or if you want to go alone sometimes, that’s okay too. You might want some privacy to complain about me.”

She chuckles. “That’s always a possibility.”

“Either way, you know I’ve always got your back.”

"And I've got yours," she replies.

We sit there in comfortable silence watching the snow fall outside in a perfect canvas of white. Because I know she’s resisting the urge to peek, I pull out my phone and pull up the image of our daughter sleeping upstairs.

She sighs and rests her head on my chest. “Winter is really lucky to have you as her dad.”

Touched more than I can express, I pull her closer. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that, too.”