8. Blake
Chapter 8
Blake
T he house had fallen quiet hours ago.
I knew this because I'd yet to fall asleep even though it was currently two in the morning. Delaney might have pulled off a miracle of finding Cade’s old travel crib, but Amelia hadn’t been in it for more than half an hour so far.
I looked down at little Amelia in my arms and sighed. Her eyes were wide open, studying my face with an intensity that seemed impossible for someone so tiny. I couldn't blame her for being fussy.
She was stuck in a house with no one she knew.
The poor girl probably wanted her mother.
Her mother just didn't want her.
I couldn't believe Madison would do something like this.
The shock of the situation was starting to wear off now and in its place was nothing but disbelief.
I should be angry. I should be hunting my sister down and demanding she explain herself.
But I knew I wouldn’t.
I'd latched onto the idea of giving Madison the day to change her mind and come back. Part of me was worried that I was really just giving her the day to get further away. Which in reality was probably exactly what she'd done.
I had no idea why I'd allowed it to happen.
Or at least not one I wanted to admit to myself.
I didn't want to admit to anyone the pit that had been left inside me at being abandoned by my family.
I didn't want that for Amelia, and bringing Madison back here and making her live up to her responsibility would have only ended one way.
She'd have found a way to do this again.
Only next time, I wouldn't be there for Amelia.
I wouldn't let her feel that dark hole inside her that threatened to suck any happiness out of your life if you looked at it for a second too long.
No.
Not again and especially not to her.
I'd make sure this little girl had nothing but loving people around her for the rest of her life.
I just had no idea how I was going to do that.
"Let's figure this out together, shall we?" I whispered, counting her tiny fingers one by one. Ten perfect little digits, each topped with the tiniest fingernails I'd ever seen. I gently unwrapped the handmade blanket Madison had left with her, a soft pink-colored thing with delicate stitching along the edges. It was actually beautiful—probably the only thoughtful thing Madison had done in this whole mess.
As I rewrapped Amelia, tucking the blanket carefully around her, my mind turned to Xander and the look on his face as he cradled Amelia against his shoulder. I blinked in surprise. I had no idea why my head had gone there, even if he did look smoking hot holding a tiny baby against what I now knew was his hard chest. I had no idea why he’d balked at my suggestion of him letting me sketch him. Not when he was hiding that beneath his shirt. I was only halfway joking when I'd suggested it. Making Xander uncomfortable had recently become my favorite hobby. He got this constipated look on his face when I started and then I counted in my head to see how long it took for him to run away. I'd yet to make it past twenty-six seconds.
Now that he'd come running to my rescue this morning, I should probably stop picking on him.
It had surprised me when he'd come and yet the moment he walked through the door I felt a sense of calm move over me.
Maybe it was because he was a doctor. He had that calm reassuring presence that made me feel like everything was okay.
Yeah, I was totally going with that. Definitely the doctor thing and not the muscles and that annoyingly beautiful face he insisted on having.
It was rude really. He could at least pretend not to be the full package so the rest of us wouldn't feel quite as inadequate. He couldn't even spiral without doing something amazing like stepping up to save Booker's ranch plans, and apparently running to his rescue when Booker had an accident at the ranch.
Part time superhero and full time hottie. The women of this town didn't stand a chance. Except for me of course. I was sworn off men. Making sacrifices for my art, and definitely not lying on the couch and thinking about a certain someone instead of falling asleep. Definitely not thinking about the look in his eyes when they’d locked with mine. Or the tension that hung between us practically screaming for one of us to close the gap. Nope. Definitely not that.
"He’s not the one tormenting me tonight though," I said looking at Amelia. "Someone else has taken on that job."
I gently traced my finger down her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. She responded by turning toward my touch, her little mouth opening in a reflex.
"Hungry again?" I asked, smiling as she made a tiny sound that seemed like agreement.
I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway. Not when there was so much that I still needed to figure out, and that wasn’t even counting the immediate problems. Like the fact that Madison had left me with barely a few days worth of formula and diapers for a start.
At least there was one thing I knew for sure, Madison would never change her mind. We'd found a folder in the bag she'd left with Amelia's medical records and all her important documents. She'd thought this through enough to know we'd need those. It wasn't some spur of the moment decision. She’d taken time to think through all the steps of this terrible thing she’d done.
"What are we going to do, hey?" I asked the little girl in my arms. "I guess it's time for me to get a job and figure out this adulting stuff I was supposed to do years ago."
Amelia gurgled in response. Her little arms waved in the air as she made angry little fists.
"Okay, there's no need to be like that you know," I said standing up and heading into the kitchen to start making a bottle for her. "I was going to get around to it eventually. I was just so caught up in pretending that I could actually make it with this art thing. I was going to be famous, you know? In fact, I used to be pretty good at it. I can actually admit that now. Unfortunately everything I do is just crap now. That's an adult word you're not allowed to say until you're eighteen by the way. I'll say it enough for the both of us until then."
I cradled Amelia in one arm as I worked quickly with the bottle. This wasn't exactly my first time and right now I was grateful that I'd had Delaney and Cade to get me ready for this. Still, the warmth of Amelia against my chest was becoming familiar, comforting even. She smelled like baby powder and something uniquely her—a scent I was already learning to recognize.
Maybe it would take the sting out of what was going to happen next. I needed a job, money, a house.
Damn, the list was a long one.
I looked around for one of Delaney's many notebooks so I could start a list. Then I caught myself and what I was doing and shook my head as I shook the bottle and shook out a drop of milk onto my wrist to test the temperature.
"I was going to have a show. My very first one at a big fancy gallery. Someone was actually taking notice of me. Well, of my old work. I doubt they would have offered it if they saw what I was making recently." I put the bottle to Amelia's lips and she sucked it into her mouth eagerly. "I wouldn't be the first artist that had to work in their spare time. Maybe Daniel will give me a job at Books and Beans. He'd love to have me around all day long."
Amelia's eyes rolled back in her head as she drank her milk and I laughed softly. Her eyelashes were so long they almost touched her cheeks, and her eyes—when they weren't rolled back in milk-induced ecstasy—were starting to show hints of color, though it was too early to tell what they'd settle into.
At least one of us was having a good time.
I turned around to head back to the couch and froze when I saw Delaney standing quietly in the doorway.
"You didn't tell me," she whispered, a hint of hurt lining her voice.
I could have pretended not to know what she was talking about but what was the point? We both knew she'd heard the whole thing, and I loved her more than to try and pretend that she didn't.
"I know. I guess I just... I don't know. I was nervous about whether I could actually do it, and then there was the whole not painting a single thing worth showing anyone. And the worse it got, the less I wanted to talk about it," I confessed.
It didn't sound that bad when I said it aloud.
Really, I had no idea why I hadn't gone to Delaney. Out of everyone in the whole world, she was the one who'd stand at my side no matter what.
We would always be that for each other.
Delaney smiled sadly and then we both went to sit down as we watched Amelia fall asleep, still gulping down her milk. Her baby belly was starting to round out, and I made a mental note to burp her carefully when she was done.
"She's beautiful," Delaney said, smiling softly. Her hand moved to her own growing belly. "Blake, I talked to Trace. If you want, we would be happy to take Amelia in. We could..."
"I love you, Delaney, but no," I said, interrupting her. "I want to keep Amelia. I'm going to be her mom, or her fun Aunt, I haven't really decided yet. But I can make this work. I'll find a way."
"I knew you'd say that," Delaney admitted. She reached out and gently ran her hand over the top of Amelia's head.
"What can I do to help? Name it and it's yours."
I thought for a second. I knew what Delaney was offering, and honestly I was crazy not to jump at the chance.
But this was me.
I was the teenager who'd walked away from everything she knew because I knew the path I needed to follow, no matter if my family wouldn't support me when I traveled it.
"I need to figure this out and do it myself," I said, my stomach lurching at just the thought. "It's time for me to grow up, Lanes."
Delaney's gaze flicked up to my face. "I don't want you to change. You're the best person I know Blake."
"Of course I am! And I'm not going to change really, I'm just going to have a whole hell of a lot less free time." The corner of my mouth ticked up wryly. "And it's about time. I couldn't carry on like this."
"Yes you could!" Delaney whisper-shouted and then cringed as Amelia stirred. "You're amazing, Blake. And the things you paint... they're the most beautiful paintings I've ever seen. I never got art. But I get yours. It makes me feel and I can never take my eyes away from them."
I looked away embarrassed. I'd never been good at accepting a compliment. I guess I'd spent too much of my childhood hearing how I wasn't quite good enough.
That happened when both of your parents were narcissists.
"You should do the show," Delaney added. "You need to show the world what you can do."
"I can't, Lanes." I settled back on the couch and put Amelia on my shoulder as I gently rubbed her back not wanting to wake her. The weight of her, so small yet so significant, already felt right against me. "I need a job now. An apartment or something. Do they even have apartments in Willowbrook?"
"Of course we have apartments here. It's not Blue Point Bay," she scoffed sarcastically.
I grinned in response. Delaney had really sunk back into her small town roots over the last few months, and it was frankly adorable.
"I'm sure that's a sick burn if you understand it," I said, poking her in the ribs. Then a small smile came to my lips as I looked at her stomach. "We get to do the whole baby thing together this time."
"And you didn't even have to go through childbirth," Delaney pointed out. "That's cheating, you know."
"Well, you're going to do it twice so you've basically taken my turn."
"I'm not sure that's how it works."
"Works for me."
Amelia made a small sound against my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of her breath against my neck. I patted her back gently, the rhythm becoming more natural each time I did it.
Delaney laughed softly and then she sighed. There was so much that we weren't talking about, the actual practicalities of this whole thing for one. It wouldn't be as easy as just deciding that Amelia was mine.
"We can convert one of the barns here into a cottage. I could give you a job at the cider mill. We definitely need a resident artist on staff."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I asked, rolling my head to the side so I could look at my best friend.
"Never!" Delaney gasped quietly. "Honestly, it's such an emotional rollercoaster for me sitting here wondering if you'll ever..."
I poked her in the ribs again laughing softly at her antics. This was exactly why I loved her. Delaney always helped me to stay away from the shadows in my mind. The self-doubts were so much quieter when I had her at my side.
Was Delaney right? Could I do this without giving up on the dream that had kept me going all these years? I didn't see how any official person would look at me, a homeless, slightly broke artist and think there's a good guardian for a baby .
I sighed sadly. This was an impossible situation. Maybe I should let Delaney and Trace take in Amelia. I'd still be able to see her as often as I wanted. I could be the fun Aunt I was always supposed to be.
But when I looked at the sleeping baby on my shoulder, I knew I couldn't do that. I gently adjusted Madison's handmade blanket around her tiny shoulders, thinking about how I might be able to preserve it somehow—a connection to the mother who'd left her but had at least given her this one thing.
I knew what it was like to be thrown away by my family because I refused to fit into their plans. At least I'd had a choice. Amelia hadn't been given that, even if she was only seven months old and incapable of making any decision other than if she was hungry or not.
I wouldn't be the next person in her life to not see her for the gift she was.
I would never be like them.
So whatever it took, whatever I needed to do, I was keeping this little girl with me and loving her the way she was always supposed to be.
As if sensing my decision, Amelia stirred slightly in her sleep, her tiny hand curling around my finger as if to hold on and I made a silent promise.
I would fight for her.
I would always fight for her.