Chapter 24
Ollie
A Lot More Free by Max McNown
“What do you want to name her?” Poppy asks softly as we settle into the hospital bed side by side together, careful and awkward, curling around her as we’re figuring out this whole new person. We hold her between us, this tiny, warm weight settling into us like she’s always belonged.
I look down at the tiny bundle between us and shake my head. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
She smiles and coos at her. “Well, we can get to know her and think of a name.”
Something in my chest loosens at that thought.
We. I want to be angry, but mostly I’m just sad for the baby.
Her mother left her here at the hospital.
I know she was safe here with the nurses, but I can’t imagine leaving a helpless baby behind and just walking away.
I don’t have that in me. Now that I know she exists, I can’t fathom it.
A nurse knocks on the door and steps in holding a bottle. “Hey there,” she calls gently, “It’s about time for her to eat.”
I nod.
The nurse smiles. “You’re doing great.”
I fumble a little, hands shaking as I take the bottle and feed her, watching her mouth work, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling against my skin. My throat tightens so hard it almost hurts.
Poppy watches me, eyes soft, her head resting on my shoulder like she’s treasuring this very moment. I’m in awe of this baby. Because what does someone even do in a moment like this? This baby was just born and abandoned by her mom. She needs someone. She needs us.
The door cracks open, and my mom’s head appears. “Ollie?”
I stiffen instantly.
She lingers for a second too long, eyes darting to the baby, to Poppy, to me without my shirt on. I meet her gaze and glare at her. I don’t want her here.
She must have gotten the message, because she clears her throat. “I’ll come back later.”
I sigh. “Please don’t.”
After she leaves, Poppy shifts closer. “What’s up with your mom?”
I keep my voice low. “I don’t want her in here.”
“We can keep visitors out if you want,” the nurse offers.
“This is like our first moments with her,” I say to both of them. “And I don’t want her in here.”
Poppy doesn’t argue or question it. She nods once and leans her head against my shoulder. “Okay,” she says quietly.
And that’s why I love Poppy. She doesn’t question things. She just gets it.
“I will make note of it and tell her to go ahead and take off,” the nurse replies and updates something on the dry-erase board on the wall. “No problem.”
I look down at the baby again, her cheek warm against my chest, her breathing slow and steady. My whole world feels as if it has narrowed to this bed. This room. This tiny life between us. Only Owen is missing. He’s at school, which feels strange without him here with us.
After I feed her, the nurse shows me how to burp her. I feel ridiculous at first, patting her back like she’s made of glass, but then she lets out the tiniest little sound and relaxes against my chest.
“There you go,” the nurse says softly. “You’ve got it.”
We change her diaper together after that. Poppy’s careful and gentle, talking to her like she already knows her. I clean her up, hands steadier now, and when we’re done, she settles in, content.
The nurse leaves us alone again, and the quiet settles back in.
I glance at Poppy, and something tightens in my chest. I know she has questions. A million of them. She’s holding herself together, but I can see it in her eyes.
“We have so many questions,” I say with a sigh.
She nods, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She hesitates, then asks the question I knew was coming.
“Who is her mom?”
I take a breath. “Apparently someone my father had a one night stand with.”
I watch her face closely, hating that I’m the one putting that look there. She must realize I’m waiting for her to freak out and her face softens.
“I’m not upset, just confused and want to know what happened, and to try to understand it all,” she admits.
“I don’t know how to get a hold of her. The nurse said she just left.”
Poppy shakes her head. “I don’t understand how that can happen. How can she just leave this sweet baby?”
I sigh, relieved that Poppy gets it. But of course she does, I don’t know why I ever thought she wouldn’t.
She bites her lip, emotion flickering across her face. “Are you worried she might not be your dad’s? I hate to say it, but it’s a valid question, given that she just left like she did.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “No. I mean, we’ll find out for sure. But I’m going to take care of her and love her until I know. No matter what. She needs someone in her corner. She needs us. I’ll be there. And I know when I tell Cami she will be, too.”
Poppy nods her head. “We’ll all be there.” She looks down at the baby, then back at me. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah,” I say immediately.
“I’m going to be devastated if she’s not your sister,” she says, the words tumbling out too fast, like she didn’t mean to admit them yet.
She shakes her head, a breathless little laugh escaping, half disbelief, half panic.
“This is ridiculous. I barely know her. I know that.” Her fingers twist together in her lap, nerves written all over her.
“But I already care,” she admits softly. “Like, a lot. And that scares me.”
She finally looks at me, eyes bright and conflicted. “I don’t know what that means yet, Ollie. I don’t know where it goes or what I’m supposed to do with it. I just know the thought of her not being okay feels… unbearable.”
She swallows. “I’m not saying I have it figured out. I don’t. I just—” She exhales. “I already love her. And I don’t know how that happened so fast.”
My chest aches in the best and worst way all at once. I nod, voice rough. “I know, me too. I don’t understand how, but it’s true. She’s pretty amazing.”
I look at the baby between us, this tiny person who changed everything in an instant, and then back at Poppy. Whatever happens next, I already know one thing. We’re in this together.
I lean in and kiss her softly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now let me get some pictures of you both,” she says, pulling out her phone. “This is a special moment.”
I refuse to leave her now, and we have to wait for the social worker to come in and talk to us this afternoon before we can take her home.
I’m freaked out about taking her home, so I know exactly who I can call.
Walker. Walker’s daughter is seventeen now.
But he was a single dad before he met his wife, Violet, and I know he can give me some pointers.
Poppy leaves to check in with Mr. Fisher and get Owen to bring him back to meet the baby. I have no idea what he’s going to think.
I pick up the phone and call Walker.
He answers saying, “What’s up, Ollie?” I hear noise in the background and realize he must be at The Black Dog.
“Hey, I don’t know how else to say this, so I am just gonna say it. I need your help, man.”
“Sure, what do you need?” he asks casually, as if this wasn’t a monumental, strange ask.
“Can you, by chance, swing by the hospital right now? And don’t tell anyone.”
“Uhh, yeah. Are you okay?” he asks, sounding worried.
“Everyone is okay. I need your help. I’ll owe you big, man.”
“No worries. Cash just got here, so I’ll head that way. Be right there.”
“Fourth floor.”
“Got it,” he says and disconnects.
About twenty minutes later, Walker walks in the door and stops when he sees me holding the baby, laying on the bed. “Whoa.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Apparently, me and Cami have a baby sister.”
“Uhhh.” His eyes widen. “When did this happen?”
“We just found out today, and I’m freaking out. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even have clothes for her or a name. I’m...”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, going to the sink and washing his hands. “One thing at a time.”
He dries his hands and comes over and takes her from me. Then, he settles into the chair. “Where’s Poppy?”
“She went to get Owen.”
“So, how did this happen?” he asks, rocking her with the confidence of a dad, staring at her, examining her little fingers.
“A woman had a one-night stand with my dad. He wanted nothing to do with it. Apparently, she gave birth and left her here for me to come pick up,” I say quietly, and hearing it out loud doesn’t make it any more real. This whole thing feels wild.
Walker whistles softly. “You’re in a pickle. How does Poppy feel?”
“Tell me about it. And she’s been great, shocked but understanding. But I don’t know what to do. I mean, what do I do? If I take her home, I don’t know what to do.”
He laughs a little. “Well, I hope you’re taking her home. She’s beautiful, Ollie. And it’s all gonna work out. Just relax.”
I nod. “Okay, I knew you’d know what to do.”
“It’s been a long time, but I needed a refresher because we’re about to be in the same boat in about six months.”
“Hey, your baby and my sister can be friends.” I smile at the thought, then try to picture what that’ll look like years from now. I can’t even see past today.
“Yeah, absolutely,” he says, rocking her gently and adjusting her hat.
“Were you scared when you had Makayla?”
“Of course. I was even more scared when her mom left us in a similar boat as you are right now. You lucked out, Ollie. You have a great woman by your side. Not to mention a huge group of friends who will shower you with support.”
I smile. “Yeah, I do.”
The door creaks open, and Poppy and Owen walk in. Owen looks so confused. “Walker, did you have your baby already? Where’s Violet?”
Walker chuckles. “This one’s not mine, kiddo.”
“Hey, Walker,” Poppy says as she comes in and settles in next to me.
“She’s already a good baby, I can tell,” Walker says softly, his eyes still on the baby.
“Do the parents know you have it?” Owen asks, stepping closer like the baby might disappear if he looks too hard.
“Well, buddy, she’s ours,” I say.
He squints at me. “What?”
Poppy clears her throat gently. I shift closer to her and squeeze her hand without thinking.
“We’re her family,” I correct.
Owen’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks between us, then back down at the baby, who is sleeping peacefully and utterly unaware that she just flipped our entire lives upside down.
“So,” he says carefully, “like… another sister?”
There’s hope in his voice. Real, fragile hope. I knew he would be into this. Owen loves being a part of a family. He lights up around Mack, Walker, and Violet.
He leans in, inspecting her tiny fingers and her scrunched little nose like he’s evaluating a very important project. “She’s kinda cute,” he adds. “Really small though. Kinda has an egg head.”
Poppy watches him, her expression soft and a little nervous. “Would that be okay?” she asks. “If you had another sister, I mean.”
Owen looks up at her like the answer is obvious.
Then he grins. “I mean,” he says, shrugging, “we already have a weird family. Why not make it weirder?”
I laugh, the sound surprising me, and something in my chest finally loosens. Poppy laughs too, wiping at her eyes, and Owen steps closer, reaching out one careful finger.
The baby curls her hand around it.
Owen goes very still. “Oh,” he whispers. “She likes me.”
I glance over at Poppy, and she looks back at me, and for the first time since this all started, the fear quiets just enough to let something else through.
“Of course she does, buddy,” I say softly. “You want to hold her?”
He nods and steps closer, careful and serious. Once he’s seated, Walker helps settle her into his arms.
She sighs and relaxes like she knows exactly where she is.
I watch them, my chest tight and steady all at once, and realize I’m not scared of what this looks like anymore.