Chapter Seven
BY THE TIME Emerson was discharged from the hospital, she was more than ready to go home. As nice as it was to be taken care of around the clock, she needed her space, and she wasn’t used to sitting around, even when she was exhausted. Although she had loved every minute she’d spent with Baz, and she’d really enjoyed meeting Ginger.
She glanced at Baz, handsome and relaxed behind the wheel of his truck in a snug T-shirt and jeans and those biker boots that she liked way too much. He’d shown up the minute visiting hours had begun again this morning and hadn’t minded waiting the three hours it had taken until she was discharged. He’d been so careful with Brennan and with her, making sure they were comfortable in the truck, and his truck smelled just like him. Like sandalwood and a warm hug on a cold winter’s day, only she couldn’t imagine feeling cold even in the thick of winter around the man. She was going to miss seeing him every day. But she had a lot to do once she got home. She’d already contacted the two editing clients whose manuscripts she’d hoped to finish before giving birth. One client had a firm deadline and had to hire someone else to finish the project, but luckily, the other had a few weeks of wiggle room. Emerson planned to work on it during Brennan’s naps. Unpacking would have to wait, as would putting together Brennan’s crib and the rest of his room, but that was okay. He’d sleep in her room for several weeks anyway. The only thing she needed to put together was the Pack ’n Play because it had a bassinet attachment that he could sleep in.
Even though she had a plan she felt good about, when Baz turned onto her street, she felt a flicker of panic and wished Gwen were there with her. From this moment on, it was up to her to keep Brennan healthy and safe.
“Home sweet home.” Baz parked in her driveway, and his gaze moved over her face. “Are you okay?”
Her pulse quickened, anxiety prickling her limbs. “Yeah, just a little tired.” I’ve got this.
“Stay put. I’ll help you out.”
He was out of the truck before she could argue. She practiced the calming breaths she’d learned in years of therapy and watched him walk around the front of the truck. She’d been thinking a lot about the things Ginger had said about the way they helped others and how they believed in paying it forward. Ginger reminded her of her own mother, the way she was kind and gentle and somehow also strong and stable. She didn’t know how she could ever pay it forward for Baz. What did you do for a guy who delivered your baby and then proceeded to take care of both of you every second he could?
He opened the passenger door and held out his hand. “Be careful. It’s a big step.” He helped her down and then opened the back door.
“I can get him.”
“You’re not supposed to carry anything heavier than the baby, and he’s sleeping. I’ll carry him in the carrier part of the car seat so you can rest while he does.”
“I’ve got too much to do to rest right away.” She grabbed her bag, but he took it from her and shouldered it.
“You can carry these.” He handed her the flowers he’d given her in the hospital and unhooked the carrier. He put a hand on her lower back as they made their way up the walkway. “Careful.” He motioned to the broken slates. “You should have that fixed. You’re not going to be able to get the stroller over this.”
“It’s on my to-do list.”
The muscles in his jaw bunched, and he unlocked the door.
“I’m sure it seems weird to you that I have so many locks in such a low-crime area.”
“Not at all. I’m glad you’re careful.” He placed the keys in her hand, then pushed open the door.
She stepped inside and stopped cold. All of her boxes were gone. Just as panic flared in her chest, she realized the contents of the boxes had been put away. The bookshelves flanking the fireplace were lined with her books and knickknacks, her pictures were hung on the living room walls, and the painting that had once hung above their family fireplace was hanging above the mantel. It was one of the few things besides her father’s recliner she’d asked Gwen’s parents to save for her. The changing table she’d bought had been assembled and placed against the far wall, the shelves underneath stocked with baby clothes, burp rags, diapers, wipes, diaper rash ointment, and petroleum jelly. Beside it was the diaper pail she’d bought.
Stunned, she took a few steps and saw her laptop on an unfamiliar, and beautiful, writing desk in the dining room with a matching bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf and the desk drawers and decorative legs were a distressed slate blue, and the desktop was a pretty shade of wood. Her office supplies were neatly organized on the bookshelves in the labeled baskets she’d used in New York. She glanced over the half wall into the kitchen and saw a plastic baby bath on the counter by the sink, a bottle of baby wash, and a set of folded towels on the counter. Emotions stacked up inside her.
“Did you do all of this?” she asked incredulously, setting the vase she was carrying on the end table by the couch.
“I had a little help from my family and Tobias, Madigan’s fiancé. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want you to be overwhelmed when you came home. We didn’t open the three boxes that were marked personal. I put those in your bedroom.”
She didn’t know how she felt. While she was relieved to have such a big chore off her plate, she was also a little uncomfortable about strangers going through her things. But mostly she was stunned again , and glad they hadn’t opened the boxes marked personal. Those boxes hadn’t been opened since Gwen’s mother had packed up Emerson’s parents’ belongings right after they’d died.
“I’m sure we put things in the wrong places, but I figured that was better than trying to live out of boxes with a new baby. I can move anything you’d like me to. We put the changing table out here because Tank and Maverick said if you were anything like Leah and Chloe, you’d spend most of your time in the living area with the baby.”
“They’re probably right. Where did you get that desk and the bookshelf?” She’d sold her desk, and the rest of her furniture, when she’d moved, wanting a real fresh start.
“I had them lying around.”
“You had a gorgeous desk and shelves just lying around?” She shook her head, asking herself again, Who is this guy? “You didn’t have to do any of this, much less lend me furniture.” She registered a smell she couldn’t place. It wasn’t a bad smell, just different. “Do you smell something?”
“It’s paint from the nursery, but it should dissipate by the end of the day. We painted Friday night and the windows have been open and the fans have been running ever since.”
“You painted ?” She beat him to the nursery door and pushed it open, her heart tripping up at the sight of her baby’s nursery. Two big oscillating fans were blowing air out the windows, but it was the pale green walls and white trim, the assembled crib, and the mobile hanging above it with little clouds, stars, and sheep dangling from strings that brought tears to her eyes. She thought about the blanket Ginger had given her for Brennan, and her chest felt full. There was a stuffed sheep tucked into one corner of the crib. “ A stuffie ,” she said more to herself than to him.
“I thought Brennan needed a friend.”
She melted inside.
The baby monitor and the lamp with the tiny sheep on the shade she’d bought were on the dresser. He’d even hung the yellow curtains she’d gotten to match the lamp. This was why he’d been gone so long when he’d gotten her bag. He hadn’t even let on that he’d noticed her boxes, much less did any of this.
“I put the Pack ’n Play in your room.” With a hand on her back, he led her out of the nursery, closing the door behind them, and walked into her bedroom.
The unopened boxes were lined up against the far wall. The Pack ’n Play was next to the bed, the bassinet section ready for Brennan, and beside it was the rocking chair with one of the throw pillows from her couch on it, with a blanket draped over the back. There was an organizer on her nightstand containing the same things that were on the changing table, along with several folded baby outfits. In her closet, more baby outfits hung on tiny hangers beside a hanging diaper holder, which was filled to the top.
He’d thought of everything.
She turned to say as much and saw an unfamiliar wooden frame on her dresser with red wooden letters that spelled M Y L OVE across the top, and in the frame was the picture he’d taken of her and Brennan right after she’d given birth. She looked tired and harried, but so elated, it radiated across the room.
“I thought you’d want that picture in a special frame, so I made it. But I can get you a different one if you don’t like it.”
Once again she was stunned speechless, and tears spilled from her eyes.
Baz uttered a curse. “Madigan warned me that I might have overstepped. I’m sorry, Emerson. I—”
“It’s okay,” she said shakily. “You absolutely did overstep. Three days ago, I didn’t know you from Adam, and it’s uncomfortable knowing strangers went through my things, but I’m not mad.” She swiped at her tears. “Stupid hormones are messing with me. I just…”
She looked at him, with his tight jaw and concerned gaze, holding the carrier with her sleeping baby boy in it. Watching her. Waiting for her to say more. She didn’t want to admit that since she’d lost her parents, other than Gwen, nobody had ever done anything like this for her, and for some reason, that made her miss her parents even more.
Struggling to shove that dull ache, and the truth behind it, down deep, she wiped her eyes, silently gathering strength and courage like a cloak. “You just took me by surprise. I appreciate everything you’ve done, and I am going to find a way to pay you and your family back for all of your hard work.”
“Take care of this little guy, and give yourself a chance to recharge and heal. That’s payment enough. Why don’t you lie down and rest. I’ll stay with Brennan in the living room and bring him to you when he wakes up.”
She shook her head. “Baz, you’ve done more than enough, and I’ve already taken up way too much of your time. You should go.”
“Emerson, it’s your first day out of the hospital, I’ve got nothing on my plate today.”
“And I planned on doing this alone, remember? I’m good, Baz, and you and your family have set me up for success. You’ve saved me weeks of unpacking. But now I need to do this on my own.” She wrapped her hand around the baby carrier handle, but he didn’t let go.
“Doctor’s orders, remember? Nothing heavier than the baby. Tell me where you want it, and I’ll put it there.”
He was so diligent. “In the dining room by the desk, please.”
He lowered his chin, brow furrowing. “You’re not really going to try to work, are you?”
“Why not? He’s sleeping, and I have an editing job to finish.”
“Because you’re running on adrenaline. Your body needs to heal, and healing only happens when your body is at rest.”
“I’ll just be sitting in a chair reading and typing.”
“With your mind on full alert, which makes your body follow. Please give yourself a chance to heal. That’s all I’m asking. I know you’re used to doing it all, and you have a deadline, but right now that little boy needs the best of you.”
“I know he does, but I’m fine. I promise I’ll rest when I get tired. I’m just not ready to sleep right now.”
“You don’t have to sleep. You can lie there and listen to music or an audiobook and close your eyes. Let your mind rest, so your body can heal.”
He had valid points, and it would be easy to give in to her fatigue, but she needed to prove to herself that she could do this on her own. “Baz, I’ve made it this far taking care of myself. I’ve got this.”
His jaw clenched again, but he nodded curtly and carried Brennan into the dining room. He set the carrier beside the desk and headed into the kitchen. “You need to stay hydrated.” He returned with a glass of ice water and set it beside her laptop. “I don’t like leaving you without any help. Do you want me to ask my mother to come stay with you for a few hours?”
“ No. That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m fine. If you hadn’t come along when I was in labor, you’d be out living your life right now, and I’d be here by myself.”
The muscles in his jaw bunched again, and he crouched beside Brennan. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her, because she swore he was looking longingly at her little boy, as if it was painful to leave him behind.
“Be good for your mama, ya hear?” he whispered, and placed a gentle kiss on his head.
Good Lord. That had more knee-weakening power than his puppy-dog eyes.
He pushed to his feet, and she walked him to the door and opened it, hoping she didn’t sound ungrateful, but if she didn’t get him out of there, she might change her mind. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done. You can drop off Ollie anytime.”
“Would you mind if we kept him for a few more days, so you and Brennan can get settled? He’s doing well with training, but the more he has, the better.”
“I don’t want him to feel abandoned.”
“I promise you, he doesn’t, and without a fenced yard, he’ll need to be walked. How are you going to do that with the baby?”
Was there anything he didn’t notice? “I was going to put in a picket fence, but I didn’t get around to it in time. I’ll order one of those strap-on baby carriers.”
“And if Ollie takes off after a squirrel or another animal? Em, I’m only asking for a few days. I want to be sure he doesn’t pull you down the sidewalk, and he could use some work on his recall, too, in case he breaks free. Sid’s also trying to break him of the habit of barking when someone knocks or comes through the front door so he doesn’t wake your baby.”
The independent woman in her wanted to insist she could handle her dog and her baby, but the new mom in her wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t considered the complexities of walking Ollie with Brennan. She’d assumed she’d be able to carry on with that part of her life the same way she always had. But Ollie did pull on the leash, and sometimes he tried to chase squirrels and birds. She imagined herself running after him with Brennan strapped to her chest, her newborn crying because he needed to nurse or his diaper changed. She was not going to let her dog or her baby down. She’d walk Ollie around the yard until she was comfortable going farther, and she’d order a baby carrier today. But it might take a couple of days to arrive.
“Okay,” she relented. “But only for a few days.”
“Great. I’ll let you know when I’m going to swing by with him.” He looked at her for a long moment, and then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’ve got my number. Text or call if you need me. Anytime, day or night.”
She nodded, knowing she wouldn’t bother him, and watched him heading for his truck. She appreciated his concern, but she didn’t want him to think she needed him to take care of them. She tried to ignore that kernel of discomfort in her gut. She’d see him in a few days when he dropped off Ollie, and maybe after a few weeks, when she and Brennan were settled into a routine, she would try to strike up their friendship again.
As he opened his truck door, she remembered he had the base of the car seat. “Baz,” she called out. “I need the rest of the car seat.”
“So you can go cruisin’ for subs before you’re allowed to drive? No way, Wonder Woman. The doc said you shouldn’t drive for at least a week. I’ll give it back next weekend, and if you need something before that, you’ve got my number.” With a wink and a flash of that knee-weakening smile, he climbed into his truck.
His pushiness should annoy her, but she was still smiling as he drove out of view. Somehow this guy who had only just met her had already figured out the stubborn, self-sufficient parts of her.
She closed the door and looked around, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have met him. She went into the dining room and turned on her laptop, astonished again that Baz had brought in a desk and bookshelves for her. She crouched in front of Brennan, still asleep and more adorable than ever. Where did you get that hair, little man? Brennan’s father, Marco, was Spanish, and he had thick, wavy black hair, but the way Brennan’s hair stood straight up reminded her of her father’s straight dark hair. She whispered, “I love you,” and then she carried her hospital bag into the laundry room off the kitchen.
As she tossed the dirty clothes she’d worn the day she’d given birth into the washer, she remembered how scared she’d been when she’d realized she was in active labor and alone on the side of the road. Unable to find her phone, and suffering through contractions, I’mokayI’mokayI’mokay had run through her mind like a mantra, and on its heels, frantic prayers that nothing would go wrong. She’d imagined the worst. The umbilical cord around the baby’s neck, the baby getting stuck in the birth canal, and worse. And then Baz had appeared, and she’d been flooded with relief, instantly feeling safer.
She turned on the washer and headed back into the dining room. When she sat at the desk, she noticed things she’d missed at first glance. Like a mug with a Dark Knights emblem on it full of pens and pencils, her notepad beside the laptop, and the framed picture on the corner of the desk of her with her parents, bundled under a blanket on the couch. She picked it up, remembering when it was taken. It was the summer she’d turned thirteen. They’d stayed up late watching eighties Brat Pack movies, which her parents had called a rite of passage for teenagers.
She’d never kept a picture of her parents on her desk. Now she wondered why she hadn’t. She was glad Baz had thought to put one there. It made her happy to see it.
Brennan started fussing.
She set down the photo, reaching for him. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mama’s here.” Mama? Where’d that come from? During her pregnancy, she’d imagined her child calling her Mommy and Mom, like she’d called her mother. Baz’s deep voice sailed through her mind in answer. He’s beautiful, just like his mama…Time to go back to Mama. How the heck had that happened so fast?
Chiding herself for thinking about him, she focused on her crying baby, putting Brennan on her shoulder. “Your bottom is wet. Let’s get you cleaned up.” His cries escalated as she carried him into the living room. When she laid him down and unsnapped the sleeper, she realized it was poop, not urine, that had seeped out his diaper. “Poor baby.”
She spent the next ten minutes cleaning him up and trying to sweet-talk him out of crying. She sat on the couch to nurse him. Wincing as he latched on, she closed her eyes, preparing for the discomfort of his sucking causing her uterus to cramp. Why did movies and books portray nursing as a beautiful, pain-free experience right after giving birth? The nurses said the cramps would subside, and it would hurt less as time went on and her nipples toughened up. That was something she’d never thought she’d hope for, yet here she was, begging her nipples to toughen up.
Brennan pooped again, and she changed him but forgot to hold the diaper over his penis for a few seconds, and he peed on her shirt. Babies should come with warning signs about such things. After she cleaned and changed them both, he finally fell asleep. Emerson unattached the bassinet from the Pack ’n Play and carried it into the dining room. She put Brennan in it and went to put the laundry in the dryer.
When she finally got back to her desk, she was too tired to focus. She carried the bassinet, with Brennan sleeping soundly in it, back into the bedroom, and when her head hit the pillow, she went out like a light.