Chapter 39 Daisy - Together
DAISY Together
I had all but forgotten about the craziness with Tilley a couple of hours ago.
All I wanted to do was sit on the couch and snuggle this squishy, perfect angel baby.
She cooed her entire bath time, which was kind of an anomaly.
And now, wrapped in an adorable hand-me-down towel with a hood that looked like a lion, I was cradling her in one arm as I savored picking out her very first jammies under my care.
I chose a pair of pink-footed pajamas with bows printed on them.
One of the moms had brought over these precious cloth diapers with snaps that I knew weren’t practical for me as a single foster mother long-term, but I had read they prevented diaper rash, so I decided I’d try them out when I had time.
Like tonight. She stared up at me, wiggling a little on the changing table as I got her dressed.
“You know, Maisy, zip-up baby outfits are perhaps the best invention of all time,” I said, as I put in her tiny feet and then her sweet arms and zipped her up, protecting her head.
I picked her up and kissed her, holding her to me, inhaling her sweet scent.
I felt drenched with love for her, and I could not imagine ever giving her up.
I thought, briefly, about Sarah. She had made a choice.
And maybe I was wrong to let her stand by that choice, to not tell her parents, but the thought of Maisy being taken away from me was too much to bear.
I was waiting out the sixty days it would take for Maisy to be officially “abandoned” and available for adoption.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if I could handle being a single mother.
But I knew I would try it a million times over if it meant never having to say goodbye to Maisy.
Mason crossed my mind as Maisy started to fuss. “I know,” I said. “You’re a hungry girl, aren’t you?”
It wasn’t seven yet, but I heard a knock on the door and called, “Come in!” I’d thought of Mason; he had appeared.
Maisy’s fussing got louder as I walked to the door, as I kissed Mason, as I allowed myself to pretend that we were a family.
Mason kissed the top of Maisy’s head, and I let my mind wander again.
What if this could be real? What if Maisy and I could move into Mason’s beautiful house on the water, if the guest room closest to the primary bedroom could become a nursery, drenched in pink?
“She’s hungry,” I said.
“Sorry I’m early,” Mason said. “I just…” He trailed off and smiled at me.
He just wanted to see me. It made me feel warm all over.
“Do you want to hold Maisy while I get her bottle ready?”
“Um…” He looked nervous.
I laughed and handed her to him. “Just make sure you hold her head.”
She stopped fussing for a moment as she looked up at the relative stranger now holding her. Maybe she sensed that he had saved her life.
I walked into the tiny kitchen as Mason held Maisy, somewhat awkwardly, and said, “Hi, Maisy girl. You’re so nice and clean. Do you like your new room?”
I smiled as I heated the water and mixed the formula. Mason made his way to the couch and, predictably, when he sat down, Maisy began to cry in earnest. Because what baby didn’t cry when the person holding her attempted to get comfortable?
I tested the milk on my wrist and thought about Sarah.
She had no one to help her. No mother to walk her through her physical and emotional pain since her mother had no idea she had given birth.
I wanted to help her. But there was nothing I could really do.
At least, that was how I let myself off the hook.
Because how could I help and not encourage her to tell the truth?
It was impossible. And yet the truth could cost me the child I felt was supposed to be mine.
I was about to take the baby when Mason asked, “Can I feed her? Can you show me how?”
Feeding her was one of the sweetest, most special times.
On this first night, I sort of wanted it all for myself.
But, then again, I’d have three more opportunities before sunrise, and the fact that he asked turned all my insides into Jell-O.
I wanted him to feed her. I wanted him to fall in love with her, with me, with what we could become.
I smiled and grabbed a pillow, propping up Mason’s elbow. I handed him the bottle. “So, just let her drink about half of it.”
As soon as the bottle hit her lips, Maisy quit crying and sucked hungrily.
Her big blue eyes were locked on Mason’s face, his were locked on hers, and, as she wrapped her hand around his pinkie, I had to control the urge to burst into tears.
I had to control the urge to tell him that I loved him, that this should be our life all the time.
I hadn’t just given birth, so this couldn’t be hormones.
“You’re a natural,” I said.
Mason smiled up at me. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” I said. “She’s really taken to you. It’s kind of amazing. You must give off trustworthy energy.”
He laughed and leaned over to kiss me. “I’m pretty sure no one has ever said that about me.”
I knew I shouldn’t. But I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. “Have you, um, ever thought about doing this?”
“This?” Mason was looking down at Maisy.
“Being a dad, I mean.”
Mason looked up at me, furrowing his brow. “Honestly?”
My heart sank. His face turned serious, and I could tell he was unlikely to say, Why, yes, Daisy, I lie in bed awake at night dreaming of fatherhood.
“Well, of course, honestly.” I tried to keep my voice light.
I tried to be that sparkling, unencumbered woman I had been at Al’s even though, now, I was very, very encumbered.
Had I changed for him? He didn’t seem to have lost interest, but, then again, he thought Maisy was going to be a few-week situation.
Then it would be back to Daisy and Mason and dates and sleepovers and breakfast in bed on Saturday mornings.
Only, if I got my way, that wasn’t how it was going to be at all.
“I sort of thought fatherhood was out of the cards for me.”
I tried to control my face, to make it behave, but I knew it fell. “You aren’t even close to too old to be a dad.”
“No, right. Sure. I don’t mean because of my age. I guess I just figured that the kind of family Parker and Amelia have just wasn’t something I’d have.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay.” I felt deflated, but it wasn’t like I could argue with him. I looked at Maisy and then back at Mason. I wanted him. But if I had to choose between the man I loved and the baby I felt was meant to be mine, I knew I would choose her.
“But, you know,” Mason continued. “I met this woman, and she has me thinking about all these wild things I haven’t thought about in a really long time.”
I laughed. And… we were back. I cocked my head to the side and closed my eyes, shaking my head ever so slightly, letting his words sink in.
He sucked in his breath, making me open my eyes, and said, “Oh man. You think I mean you. Awkward.”
I smirked.
“Does that freak you out?” Mason asked.
“Does a hot, stable, emotionally available man imagining a future with me freak me out?”
He nodded seriously.
“No, Mason. You could say that that does not freak me out. It’s kind of the best thing I can think of.”
He pulled the bottle out of the baby’s mouth and held it up to me. “Halfway,” he said. “I don’t think I’m advanced enough to try burping yet.”
As I burped Maisy and finished feeding her, I tried to compose myself. Was this really happening? Was I getting everything I had ever wanted all in one fell swoop?
I was planning to rock Maisy, to read to her, to sing to her, all the things I knew a mother should do.
But her little eyes were closed so fully that I knew it was better to just put her to bed.
As I laid her in the crib and stroked her forehead, Mason came up behind me, and, together, we stared at this sleeping little dream like she was ours, like we had made her.
We hadn’t, of course. But we had saved her.
Together. And maybe that wasn’t the same thing, but, in that moment, it sort of felt like it.
After a few minutes of quiet, Mason turned me around.
He kissed me tenderly, making me wonder if he was feeling what I was feeling, if even though he hadn’t admitted it out loud, he loved me too.
I led him out of the room, closing the door behind me, and into my room, to finish what we had started.
And, lost in his arms, I never gave another thought to the dinner I was going to cook, to the conversation we were supposed to have.
I knew we needed to talk about Tilley and Robbie.
And I knew that, in the very near future, if not tonight, I needed to tell him that I was thinking of adopting Maisy.
None of that mattered now. It was Mason and me.
The rest, I felt absolutely positive, would work itself out.