Chapter 5 #2
“You know Basil,” Frankie said. “He had a vision. He and Etienne are almost finished. They’re in there now, ‘styling’”—she used air quotes—“the shelves.”
I giggled. Frankie was not one for style. She and Basil frequently argued at book club about the aesthetics of the waiting room at her auto shop.
“We know Vincent can’t sleep in there for a while, but I didn’t want you to have to worry about fixing up that room,” Jasper said, planting himself on the edge of the couch.
“But it’s only been three days. And you’ve been working.”
Standing, he shrugged. “I’ll go install the other car seat base in your car while the baby is content.
” He picked up the bucket seat and set it on the small table by the door.
Above it, on a brand-new decorating hook, was what looked like a navy and white stripped diaper bag. That had Ruby all over it.
When the door closed behind him, Frankie shook her head. “I don’t think he sleeps.” She held up a cord, working to untangle it. “He wanted to make everything perfect. Worked nonstop. And I yelled at him. A lot.”
“She did,” Ruby added, her lips quirking. “But he’s so damn easygoing.”
Jasper had vastly exceeded my expectations by showing up with a top-of-the-line car seat fully installed. But this? Working with my friends to welcome us home?
An uncomfortably warm feeling bloomed in my chest, the sensation triggering another round of tears.
I hadn’t known a single one of these people two years ago when I moved to town, yet here they were, showing up for me and my baby when my own family didn’t seem concerned about rushing to see us.
And Jasper? I barely knew him, but since the minute my water had broken, he’d been showing up.
I didn’t deserve all this support.
My parents had a grandchild, and when I’d called each of them, they’d murmured about driving up eventually. My siblings sent congratulatory texts, but that was it.
Yet Vincent and I were not alone.
That beautiful sentiment only made me sob harder.
Once I’d quelled my emotions again and moved Vincent to my other breast, the scent in the air caught my attention. “What is that smell?”
“Chicken soup. My mom made it,” Ruby yelled from the kitchen. “And Etienne baked a fresh loaf of sourdough.”
My mouth watered. Etienne’s sourdough was the stuff of legends. His starter was twenty years old and named Florence.
“He is so beautiful.” Basil removed his horn-rimmed glasses and dabbed at his eyes with the handkerchief Etienne handed him.
“And Vincent is such a nice name,” Etienne declared in his strong French accent. “Distinguished.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at my baby, who was now snoozing in his brand-new swing. “It was my grandfather’s name.”
As soon as I’d burped Vincent, Ruby had scooped him up, changed his diaper, put him in a fresh onesie, and gotten him set up with his binkie and a blanket covering his lower half.
Basil produced a bowl of soup and a piece of bread the size of my head, scolding me about fueling my body.
I sniffled as I took the bowl from him. “You guys are spoiling me.”
“Nah,” Frankie said. “We’re just taking care of our friend and her stupidly adorable baby.”
Jasper lingered in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and breaking down cardboard boxes.
Emotions overwhelmed me once more as I watched him. I had a child. With a man I barely knew. And I’d have to figure that out. In this ridiculous hormonal postpartum state.
“We made a schedule,” Ruby declared. “We’ve got meal deliveries set up, and we’re all taking shifts so we can help clean and hold Vincent so you can shower and nap.” She tapped at her phone screen.
“I’ve set up calendar alerts as well. We’ve got you covered.”
Jasper walked into the living room, his eyes filled with uncertainty and maybe a little hurt.
“Should I send you my schedule at the firehouse? I typically work twenty-four on and twenty-four off, but I can shift to twelves if that works better. Chief owes me after all the overtime I’ve been putting lately. ”
Ruby smiled at him. “Sure. You have my number? Text it to me.” She eyed me, then stood. “Let’s clean up and give them some privacy.”
Frankie, Basil, and Etienne jumped up and immediately started collecting bowls.
“I’ll change Vincent,” I said. Ruby had just done it, but I was desperate to escape this awkwardness. There was no plan here. No playbook. It was bad enough I had to figure out how to take care of a newborn, but with Jasper around?
I was being unfair, but it took all I had to hold it together as I clutched Vincent to my chest and shuffled down the hall.
I’d wallpapered it with bright green stripes to make it feel roomier, but it was still pretty dark.
I passed my room, heading for the spare room, discovering after a moment that Jasper followed.
Nerves skittered through me as he padded on socked feet behind me. He was Vincent’s father, but the fear of being away from my child gripped me tightly. This baby needed me. And the last thing I wanted was to hand him over to another person and walk away. But that was how this worked, right?
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Not today. We’d figure it out later.
I pushed open the door to the spare room and immediately sucked in a sharp breath.
The cramped space had been transformed. The bottom three feet or so of the walls were covered in dark green beadboard with an ornate chair rail. The top half had been painted, the scene depicting mountains and trees in pastel shades of green and blue.
A beautiful oak crib stood on one side of the room, framed prints hung on the wall, and the shelves were full of children’s books.
The matching oak changing table was stocked with perfectly arranged diapers and wipes.
Tears filled my eyes again. This was too much.
“Do you like it?” Jasper asked quietly from the doorway.
I nodded, biting my lip to keep the sobs inside. This wasn’t who I was. I was organized. Strategic. I planned my life with precision.
And now I was fumbling to change a diaper while Jasper watched.
Jesus. Get it together, Evie.
“Do you want me to help?” he asked as he moved closer.
“No.” The single word came out more clipped than I’d intended, and a rush of guilt hit me. I inhaled and let the air back out slowly. “Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got it.”
I surveyed him, searching for words. I wanted him around, for Vincent, but I also needed to figure out how to take care of him on my own. I ached for space. I didn’t need help. I’d been crushing it as a one-woman show for almost thirty-five years.
I rubbed circles over Vincent’s back. He was so precious.
I wanted to clutch him to my chest and never let anyone close, not even Jasper.
Especially not Jasper. He meant well, standing there with his broad shoulders filling the room, offering his time to us like it was the easiest thing in the world.
But I knew men like him. He’d show up until he didn’t.
Men broke promises, leaving the people they supposedly cared about holding the pieces.
I’d named Vincent after the only man I’d ever trusted.
After my grandfather, every other man I’d met had disappointed me in one way or another.
So I’d built a life on my own, and I wouldn’t change that now.
“I brought that from the farm.” Jasper nodded at the corner of the room.
My heart stuttered. The rocking chair was solid, made of thick, dark wood, the back carved ornately.
“My dad built it for my mom when she was pregnant with my oldest sister. And she used it for each one of us. He carved our names and birthdays on the back.”
He turned the chair around and ran his large hand down the back of it.
Sure enough, Jennifer, Jessica, Joshua, and Jasper were all carved into the wood, along with dates.
“And my sisters rocked their babies in this chair too.”
Elijah was carved next, with a birth date much more recent. According to this, he was a teenager. Then there was Isaac, Katherine, and Margaret.
The breath left my lungs. For a moment I was speechless. When I could finally breathe again, I said, “And you brought this for me?”
“Yes. Only if you want it.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand up. “I wanted Vincent to have a little part of my parents. Since he won’t get to meet them.”
My heart ached. My parents, both very much alive and healthy, had already proved that they had little interest in my baby. But this loving, sweet gesture damn near cracked my heart in half.
“Do you want to rock him first?” I asked gently.
His face softened and his eyes went misty. Nodding, he eased into the chair. As I moved closer, he looked up at me with a look of pure gratitude. I handed him Vincent, who was swaddled and happily sucking on his binkie.
Jasper settled in quickly and began to rock him, closing his teary eyes and murmuring to our child.
“And Nana Louise was an artist,” he said. “She could paint and draw and sculpt. She struggled during the long Vermont winters, so your grandpa built a small barn just for her. She would go in there and make art and play music and dance. She would have loved you so much.”
I turned away. Watching him rock our child, his large frame making Vincent look even smaller, and hearing the heartbreak in his voice was too much.
Too beautiful and too overwhelming.
For several minutes, I silently poked around the room, taking in the details while distracting myself from my emotions.
Eventually Jasper laid Vincent in his crib and stepped toward the door.
Just as he reached for the knob, I quietly cleared my throat. This situation required delicacy and strategy, neither of which my mind was capable of in this moment. But I had to get this off my chest.
“I don’t want to keep him from you,” I whispered. “You’re his father and you have every right to be here.”
“And I will be,” he said, his green eyes flashing with determination.
I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves.
“I need a coparent,” I said matter-of-factly.
It was necessary if I wanted to muscle all my complicated feelings into something workable.
“Not a man who wants to play house when it’s convenient.
I can’t create a life for my child while waiting to see if you show up.
” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I forced them out anyway.
His eyes flickered again, this time with hurt, disappointment, and maybe a little shame. But then he nodded. Slow and silent. He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight.
“Okay,” he said, his tone resigned. “Then I’ll get out of your hair.
And I’ll check with Ruby. Find out when I’m needed next.
” He licked his lips and searched my face like he wanted to say more, like maybe he wanted to prove me wrong.
Instead, he let the silence stretch out for an uncomfortable few seconds.
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Immediately, I wanted to call him back, to undo what I’d just done, to take back the words.
But the fear of finding myself one day needing a man I couldn’t rely on kept me frozen in place.
We had plenty of time to work out what our lives would look like as coparents, but for this moment, I needed to protect myself and Vincent.
It was better this way.
Even if I felt as though I’d slammed the door on something I wasn’t ready to lose.