Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Marty gazed down at where her son was stretched out along her lap, marveling at how small he was. He held each of her index fingers in his chubby little fists and she bounced his arms as she spoke to him in a singsong voice.

“I don’t know how it’s possible to be this tired and still this happy,” she said, marveling at the way he moved as he yawned. “But I am very, very tired and very, very, very happy, and it’s all because of you, my sweet, sweet baby.”

Trevor stared at her. It was his favorite activity.

The Jamesons, now a family of three, had been home from the hospital for a week and the two adults were gradually starting to get familiar with their new routine.

“Just you wait,” Lori had said with a laugh when she’d stopped by the day prior to throw in a load of laundry. Marty hadn’t realized just how much laundry a new baby made. It was remarkable, really, given how tiny he was. “You’ll get into the groove and then bam! He’ll totally change things up on you.”

“Oh, good,” Wyatt had said tiredly from where he sat with his head tipped back against the back of the couch. “How long does that last?”

Lori shrugged. “Until they’re about twenty? Give or take a few years.”

Marty knew she’d feel differently come two this morning, when Trevor decided eating was way more fun than sleeping, but right now, she felt like there was no place she’d rather be than right here, watching all the minute ways he changed practically minute by minute.

“Because you’re the cutest, best boy in the whole wide world,” she crooned. “Yes. Just the very best one I’ve ever, ever seen.”

Just then, Bertram stalked into the room and gave her a faintly baleful look, as if offended on behalf of all other males of all species everywhere. Marty laughed.

“You’re wonderful too, Bertram,” she assured her pet. He lifted his tail and stalked off, as if he hadn’t asked for her approval and didn’t know why she was giving it.

The cats had all reacted differently to Trevor’s arrival in their lives. Bertram seemed faintly suspicious. Macy mostly seemed offended that one or both of her parents kept getting out of their snuggly bed at night. Trouble hadn’t seemed to yet notice the new presence in the house.

But Peaches? Peaches knew that Marty was her mother… and if this was Marty’s baby, this probably meant that this was Peaches ’ baby too.

If Trevor cried in the night, Marty would open her eyes to find Peaches already perched on her pillow, peering at her as if to say, “Hey! Can’t you hear the baby is crying? What are you waiting for?” If Trevor cried during the day, Peaches would come running to make sure that one of the humans was doing their job and taking care of the little guy.

Even as Marty smiled, thinking about this adorable behavior, Peaches opened one eye from where she was curled up next to Marty’s thigh. She peeked up at Trevor and, apparently satisfied that he was safe and accounted for, closed her eyes and settled back in for a much-needed nap.

“Me too, girl,” Marty said, shaking her head. Gosh, a nap sounded so good right about now…

Wyatt entered the room, yawning and stretching, waking from his own catnap.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, bending down to give Marty a peck on the cheek before reaching his arms out to Trevor. “Hey, little man! It’s your daddy. Hi, buddy. I missed you!”

Marty felt her heart melt as she looked at the way Wyatt settled his son against his chest. Trevor scrunched his hand in the collar of Wyatt’s shirt. She had this reaction about a dozen times a day. She’d blame the residual hormones… but she was pretty sure it was just love that was making her feel this way.

“Thanks for the nap, babe,” Wyatt said over Trevor’s head when he was settled in on the opposite end of the couch. “I feel worse than I did after falling off that quad when I was twenty, so I can only imagine how you’re feeling right about now.” He tucked his chin and whispered into Trevor’s downy red hair. “Your mommy had to grow you from nothing, did you know that? Did you know she grew you and that’s how you got so big?”

Marty laughed. “I was just thinking how tiny he is.”

“He’s both,” he replied. “Bigger than he used to be, littler than he ever will be again. Isn’t that right, buddy? You’re going to grow even bigger and stronger, and your mommy is going to be very glad that part happens outside of her stomach.”

“Ugh, that’s very true,” Marty said. She leaned her head against the back of the couch. It had become a common position for the new parents these past few days, when keeping their eyes open was all they could do.

Wyatt looked up at her. “Do you want to go grab some sleep? Trev and I can have some daddy-baby bonding time.”

She shook her head. “Not worth it yet. He’s going to want to eat in like forty-five minutes. I’ll nap after that. And Monica is bringing over some food before that. She should be here.” Marty picked up her phone and glanced at the time. The crazy schedule that came with having a newborn baby made time feel completely unreal—she never had any idea what time it was. “Any minute now, actually.”

“Man, I thought I loved Darla before,” Wyatt said, “but it is nothing on how great of a sister-in-law I think she is after this meal train thing.”

“I know,” Marty agreed. “She’s pretty much the best.”

Darla had coordinated efforts with all of Marty’s friends and family to ensure that the new parents had a steady stream of meals coming their way.

“Cooking is just one more thing,” she’d said when Marty had thanked her. “And you don’t need to worry about adding it to your list, at least not yet. Besides,” she had added, eyes sparkling, “people like to use it as an excuse to meet our sweet baby boy. Why do you think I put myself on there like ten times? So just relax. We’ve got you covered.”

Marty had been touched by how thoughtful everyone had been, both in lovingly preparing meals and then in keeping their visits at just the right balance so that they could meet Trevor without overburdening the new parents. And everyone seemed to want to help.

“Go do whatever you need to do,” Gabrielle Watson-Thurmond, Braden’s mother, had said when she’d come over with her husband, Thomas. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to soak in some baby cuddles.”

“Your own grandbaby is coming soon,” Marty had pointed out.

“Soon,” Gabrielle agreed, “but not yet. I’m greedy for some good baby-holding time now. He’s in good hands.”

Marty, knowing this was true, had enjoyed the opportunity to take a shower without worrying that Trevor would cry out for her. It had been, in a word, glorious.

Braden, cautious of his wife overburdening herself while she was so close to her own due date, had initially kept the younger generation of Watsons off the meal train list. But that morning, Marty had gotten a text from Monica.

MONICA: I kicked Charity off the meal list today, because I NEED to see that baby. Everybody has seen him but me! He won’t even recognize his auntie Monica! Besides, I need concrete proof that I’m not going to be pregnant forever. Everyone keeps saying it’ll end soon enough, but I’m not convinced.

A few minutes later, another text had come in.

MONICA: Don’t tell Braden though. He’ll fuss. He’s at work, and it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

Indeed, the phone buzzed silently in Marty’s hand as she held it. Monica was outside, and her latest text was a message saying that she didn’t want to knock and risk waking the baby. Marty texted her to come right in, since the door was unlocked. A few minutes later, Monica poked her head into the room.

She looked as adorable as ever, her golden ponytail shining and her cute, thick-framed sunglasses highlighting her eyes. She also looked extremely pregnant.

No matter how tired she got, Marty was not jealous. She’d take having the baby over waiting for his arrival any day.

“Hi!” Monica said, her voice just above a whisper. She hefted a covered dish. “Let me put this in your fridge and then let me see baby Trevor!”

“He’s not asleep,” Marty reassured her. “You don’t have to be quiet yet.”

“Oh, perfect,” Monica said when she returned, speaking in her regular voice. “I mean, I have finely-honed librarian skills still in my back pocket, of course, but I really want to gush over this perfect little angel.” Monica had been a local librarian for years before she’d made her dream of opening a literary-themed B&B a reality. “Oh, Marty. He’s the cutest.”

Marty beamed. “Isn’t he?” she asked as Wyatt shifted Trevor into Monica’s arms, helping her adjust her hold around her bump.

“The cutest,” Monica repeated. Then she looked seriously down at Trevor. “Okay, buddy. Real talk. Can you tell your little cousin to hurry up and arrive? You know, baby to baby?”

Trevor continued his favorite activity, staring wide eyed at Monica like she was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Marty supposed this was fair, as Trevor hadn’t seen too much yet. It made everything extremely interesting.

“How much longer do you have again?” Wyatt asked.

“Ugh, about three weeks,” Monica said. “I was about three weeks behind Marty, and she was originally due… was it today, actually, Mar?”

Marty had to glance at her phone to see the date, of course.

“Oh, yeah, it was, actually!” she exclaimed, surprised. “Wow, amazing how fast that slips from your mind once the baby’s here.”

“Yeah, brag brag brag,” Monica said with playful sarcasm. “You were just so excited to be here with us, huh, buddy?” she said, turning back to Trevor. “That’s right, you were. Let’s hope baby Watson is the same.”

Trevor started to fuss mildly, causing Peaches to jerk up her head in alarm. Monica got to her feet with impressive smoothness for someone so far in her pregnancy, however, and started to rock back and forth. Trevor settled right back down.

“The ones on the inside and the ones on the outside like the same thing,” she joked as she swayed from side to side. “This little one also calms down when I’m walking or swaying. I love that in the middle of the night, obviously.”

“They’re just getting you ready for the real deal,” Marty said. “Somebody loves to eat in the pitch dark.”

“Ugh, I bet,” Monica said in commiseration.

“You guys still waiting on finding out the gender?” Wyatt asked. “I know we did the whole ‘Baby Jameson’ thing, but we were really just tormenting everyone else. We actually knew he was a boy.”

“Nope, we’ve decided to torture ourselves too,” Monica said with a laugh. “We take bets on the gender, but we change, like, every day. I think it’ll be a good surprise though.”

“It definitely will,” Marty said. “Knowing in advance was right for us, but I’ve always thought waiting was so fun.”

“Yeah, fun,” Monica grumbled, making both the adult Jamesons laugh, which made their son make an adorable little coo of interest. This distracted everyone for a moment, as they all praised Trevor at his brilliance in the sound-making department.

“So,” Monica said when they were done, putting on a serious expression. “I know all those ‘speed up labor’ things are just old wives’ tales, but tell me your secret. How did you get this guy to come early?”

Marty gazed fondly at the sweet curve of Trevor’s cheek.

“Well, I interrupted a proposal, so you could try that?” she suggested playfully.

Monica frowned. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to work a second time. Drat.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Trevor began to move his head and fuss, two signs that Marty had already learned meant he was hungry. She extended her arms to take him from Monica, feeling a surge of happiness when she held her baby again. She hoped that feeling would never end. She had a strong suspicion it never would.

“Okay, that’s my cue,” Monica said cheerfully, pressing one last kiss to Trevor’s head. “I’ll let myself out and you guys go back to being the best parents ever. But if you happen to see any shooting stars, blow out any birthday candles, break wishbones, or see any other signs of good luck…” She pointed at her large baby bump. “Well, then, send those good wishes to me. I’m hoping that this little one decides to be as prompt as Trevor here.”

Marty laughed. “You’ve got it,” she assured Monica.

After their friend departed, it was just the family of three again. Marty fed Trevor, feeling her own eyes start to grow heavy as he too dozed off. When he was finally done eating, Wyatt reached for him.

“I’ll get him settled in the bassinet and hang out with him when he’s up,” he said in that careful whisper that had become a common way of speaking in their household since their newest arrival. “You take a quick nap, and I’ll come get you when he’s ready to eat again, okay?”

“You’re my hero,” she told him honestly. A nap sounded amazing. Except…

She looked over her shoulder. Her bed was just so far away.

Peaches again opened one eye as if to say, “Well, I don’t see the problem with napping right here, so why should you?”

“Good thought, Peaches,” Marty murmured, reaching to the back of the couch for a cozy fleece blanket. “I don’t know if it’s a good sign that I think you’re sending me messages, but I’m going to blame it on the sleep deprivation.”

Peaches purred in response.

As Marty dozed off to the comforting bulk of her cat beside her, the soft murmurs as Wyatt shushed Trevor sending her into her slumber, she had the quiet, joyous thought that she had never thought she could end up this blessed.