Chapter Eight #2
Dr. Edwards smiled down at Darla, who’d just opened her eyes to see who was moving her legs and hips around.
“That’s what we want to hear.” She carefully placed Darla on her stomach and turned her head until her cheek rested against the exam table.
Their darling lifted her head just a little and mean-mugged the good doctor, who laughed.
“This is what we want to see.” She smiled at them.
“Not the mad expressions so much as Darla building neck strength. Tummy time is crucial right from the jump. A lot of newborns don’t like it unless they’re lying on a parent’s chest, which is fine with me.
At least thirty minutes a day, but it doesn’t have to be consecutive right now.
And never leave them on their tummy unsupervised. ”
“Of course not,” Sawyer agreed.
Dr. Edwards continued her examination, which included partially undressing the diva to check how her umbilical cord was doing.
“Once this falls off, you can submerge her lower half in an infant tub and give her a true bath. Twice a week.” She recommended different brands they could try and listed the ingredients they needed to stay away from if they wanted to try all-natural options.
Sawyer planned to stick with the soaps, shampoos, powders, and lotions that parents had been using for decades. “How’s Darla sleeping at night?”
“She isn’t,” Royce said.
“Ah,” Dr. Edwards replied. “That’s very common, even if frustrating, but you can shift her sleeping habits with a little effort and a lot of patience.”
“Sawyer has a game plan, but we wanted to discuss it with you first,” Royce said.
“Let’s hear it,” Dr. Edwards said.
“I think we’re swaddling her too much during the day,” Sawyer said.
“We unwrap her to eat, of course, but I get hyperfixated on the room temperature and bundle her back up after she finishes her tummy time. I also read that it’s best to keep the house bright during the day and to maintain normal daytime noise levels, but to keep the house darker and quiet at nighttime, especially during feedings. ”
“That’s a solid plan,” Dr. Edwards said.
“Rely on low, soft lighting for overnight feedings, and don’t turn on the television.
Always have her sleep independently. Never with you in bed.
She needs to be upright for twenty to thirty minutes after each bottle to digest, but at this stage, I would swaddle her and place her in a crib or bassinet afterward.
Developing good sleep hygiene habits will set you up for a happy future.
Some babies get too used to sleeping in someone’s arms and don’t want to sleep when you put them down.
It’s okay if she kicks up a little fuss or doesn’t go to sleep right away.
This gives her an opportunity to self-soothe and drift off to sleep.
When she starts to wriggle and rock, you’ll want to switch to a sleep sack instead of swaddling her.
But we have some time before she’s in jeopardy of rolling over. ”
“Darla is a Locke,” Sawyer said. “So, I expect shenanigans at every stage.”
“What about her weight loss?” Royce asked.
“It will probably take her a few weeks to get back to her birth weight, but that’s typical for most newborns. Considering her initial issues with latching on, Darla is holding her own.” She smiled at them. “You’re off to a great start, guys. Do you have any questions for me?”
Sawyer and Royce exchanged a glance before shaking their heads.
“Great. We’ll see you back for her one-month checkup,” Dr. Edwards said.
“Thank you,” they replied.
Once she left, they bundled Darla back into her carrier and lugged the massive diaper bag to the checkout area, where they scheduled Darla’s routine visits for the next six months.
“Hungry?” Royce asked once they were back in the SUV.
“Starved,” Sawyer replied. “Can we go through a drive-thru for greasy breakfast sandwiches and hash browns?”
“Hangover food?” Royce asked.
“More like sleep deprivation food.” Sawyer looked over at Darla, who blinked against the daylight. “But you’re worth it, baby girl. I’ve never been so happy to be this exhausted.”
A vivid nightmare yanked Sawyer from his nap, and he jackknifed into a sitting position on the sofa.
A cold sweat covered his face, and his heart galloped fast enough to steal his breath.
He swallowed hard and blinked to bring his vision into focus.
Tears filled his eyes when he saw Darla sleeping peacefully in the mobile bassinet beside him.
Pressing a hand over his thundering heart, Sawyer willed himself to calm down and breathe.
Darla is here. She’s safe. No one is going to take her away from us.
He kept repeating the same phrases until his pulse calmed and his breathing leveled out.
Sawyer looked toward the recliner and was relieved that his near panic attack hadn’t woken Royce from his nap either.
The television played softly in the background, showing a television show he didn’t recognize.
The volume didn’t seem to disturb Royce, so he carefully wheeled the bassinet into the kitchen so he could monitor Darla while he drank water and grabbed a snack.
A massive bowl of fruit sat on the counter, and that’s where his attention should’ve gone, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the bakery box next to it.
Eating his emotions wouldn’t solve a damn thing, but a jelly donut would sure as hell go down really well.
Sawyer skipped the water, too, and poured himself a tall glass of milk.
He leaned against the counter and intended to enjoy every bite and sip of his treat.
Balance, he reminded himself. That was the key to a healthy life.
He’d fix a nice big salad with grilled chicken and a lovely vinaigrette…
and maybe some bacon and blue cheese crumbles on top. Yep, balance.
It was better to focus on the things he could control than the uncertainties that caused him to dream of people taking Darla away from them. The memory made tears well up, and Sawyer choked back a sob.
“No, damn it,” he hissed. “I’m not doing this.” He bit savagely into the donut, and blueberry jelly squished out of the back and plopped onto his shirt. “Just great.”
Sawyer set his half-eaten pastry on top of the bakery box and attacked the jelly mess with a wet paper towel but only made it worse.
The stain went from a small jelly blob to a large violet smear on the light gray fabric.
He reached for the bassinet to wheel it into the laundry room with him but caught sight of the abandoned donut. “Well, we can’t have that.”
Sawyer wolfed it down in two more bites and knocked back his milk.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he forgot all about the stain when he saw the name on the caller ID.
Charlie Price. Sawyer’s body went into that weird fear-response thing where he went hot and cold at the same time.
Parts of him were burning with fever while others were frigid.
Breathe in. Breathe out. You’re okay. Darla is safe. No one is taking her from you.
With his heart hammering in his throat, he answered the call before it rolled over to voicemail. “Hi, Charlie,” he whispered.
“Is this a bad time?” Charlie whispered back.
Sawyer chuckled. “No. Darla and Royce are napping, but you don’t have to whisper too.”
“You should nap with them,” Charlie said.
“I was, but I woke up and needed a snack. What’s up?”
“I’m currently questioning my good judgment and probably my sanity too,” Charlie replied.
That made Sawyer chuckle. “Still?”
“More so now than ever, but I made you a promise. You are a dear friend, and I love you like a brother, so despite my reservations, I have some updates for you.” Charlie cleared his throat. “And this goes without saying, but I need this to stay between us.”
“I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone other than Royce,” Sawyer promised.
“The person at the heart of the investigation is Shania Price. She’s the owner of the adoption agency with the unethical practice allegations.
I interviewed her within hours of the accident.
Shania admitted to having a heated exchange with Ned Owens but denied threatening him with physical violence. ”
“No one ever admits to doing that,” Sawyer said.
“To be fair, we only heard about those alleged threats through secondhand information.”
“The bread and butter of most investigations,” Sawyer pointed out.
“True, but I still have to prove it. The only irrefutable evidence right now is Shania’s alibi.
The woman has cameras on all the doors of her house, plus coverage of the driveway going all the way to the street.
Their vehicles never moved, and both she and her husband were seen taking their dogs in and out to do their business at various times.
The kids left for school and got on the bus at the end of the driveway. Shania and Peyton stayed home.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s not responsible,” Sawyer argued. “She could’ve hired it done or someone could’ve acted on her behalf out of misplaced loyalty.”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m trying to learn everything I can about Shania and Peyton.
On the surface, everything looks good. They live within their means, they pay their bills on time, they have consistent work histories, and neither has a criminal record.
There’s nothing that jumps out or would justify a warrant to dig deeper.
And I’ve had to be cautious about interviewing people they know because I don’t want to tip them off. But I finally got lucky.”
“How?”
Charlie chuckled and said, “The receptionist at the agency seemed very uncomfortable during our first interview at the office, so I managed to bump into her at the grocery store. Reese was nervous at first, but we bonded over our favorite chips in the snack aisle. That’s when she suggested I look at Landen Jordan for Ned’s death. ”
“Who’s that?” Sawyer asked.