Chapter 38 – “willow” - Taylor Swift
VICE
“WILLOW” - TAYLOR SWIFT
As we walk into the spacious room, I find my brother pacing the floor, his gaze fixated on the blanket-wrapped bundle he’s holding to his bare chest. His head snaps up when he hears the door open, and his eyes are red-rimmed like he’s been crying, but the smile that overtakes his face can only be described as radiant.
I squeeze August’s hand, the two of us entering last. I’m borderline angry with him for insinuating that he’s not family and he has no right to be here.
If anything, I’d argue he’s more part of this family than I am.
But considering the way Everett reacted earlier tonight—or last night, I should say—I don’t blame August for suddenly feeling unsure of his place.
“Hey,” Leo whispers, walking back over to the bed his wife lies in and gently placing their daughter in her arms before greeting the rest of us with hugs. “Come meet Willow.”
I feel bad at the way Darby becomes suddenly crowded by the eight of us, not to mention the two nurses that are popping in and out of the room, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
Her golden hair is slicked up into a bun atop her head, and the exhaustion in her eyes can’t be denied.
Yet there is an iridescent glow shrouding her, a happiness so potent it’s visual, permeating the air all around us.
“Okay, whoever wants to hold her needs to go wash their hands,” Dahlia says.
My mother practically leaps for the sink at the back of the suite, Everett and Lou moving to follow her.
Secretly, I’m terrified of babies, and I definitely don’t want to be the first to touch her, because I’m afraid I’ll break her.
I need to watch someone else go ahead of me so I can copy whatever they do.
August stays right beside me at the foot of Darby’s bed, quietly asking how she’s feeling.
Leo sits at the edge on one side of her, his arm around her shoulder as he strokes back the loose hair on her forehead. My father sits on her other side, rubbing her back. “We’re so proud of you, preciosa. Look at what you two made.” He nods at the baby in her arms. “She’s so beautiful.”
“I’m taking no credit.” Leo kisses his wife’s head. “She’s all her mama, and thank God for it.”
Darby tilts her neck, glancing up at him. “No, she’s definitely half heathen.”
“Half heathen and all honey,” he whispers. “So, she mostly got the good parts.”
She lifts a hand, patting his cheek. “You’re all good parts, Leo.”
He smiles, and tears begin to glisten in his eyes as he tilts his head, causing Darby’s palm to rest against his lips. “Thanks for giving me my baby, Honeysuckle.” He holds her wrist, kissing her hand. “It’s been a long while since I got to look into the eyes of someone who shares my blood.”
It suddenly feels as if we’re intruding on an incredibly intimate moment, so I tug on August’s hand and walk us to the corner of the room.
“Are you hiding us back here to avoid holding the baby?” he whispers in my ear as Everett, Lou, and my mom rejoin the others after washing their hands.
“Of course not,” I hiss.
I definitely am. A little bit.
“Do you think I could hold her first?” Everett asks, eyes fluttering to Dahlia. “I’ve actually never held a newborn before, probably wouldn’t be bad to learn how.”
Dahlia gently takes Willow from Darby’s arms, transferring her to Everett and showing him how to properly hold her.
He paces around the room, bouncing her in his arms as he coos at her adoringly.
Our mother stands over his shoulder, watching like a hawk, and I can practically see her vibrating with desperation to get that baby in her arms.
“You’re going to have to touch her at some point, Elena. She’s your niece.” When I shake my head, August laughs. “I cannot believe you’re afraid of babies.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” I whisper. “I just think they’re very fragile, and I don’t like to be responsible for the well-being of tiny people.”
He laughs again. “They’re going to make you hold her.”
“You can hold her, and I’ll just gaze lovingly at her over your shoulder. We’ll bond through eye contact.”
“No, I—” His head snaps sideways, and his mouth opens as he pauses.
“Oh, my God.” I’m the one laughing now. “You’re afraid of babies too.”
“Okay, so you’re admitting you are afraid of babies, then.”
“No more than you are, Augustus.” I loop my arm through his, resting my head on his shoulder. “You…um…you know I don’t want kids, right? Like, ever?”
“Yeah, Elena.” He glances down at me, lips tilting upward. “You’ve been pretty clear about that for most of your adult life.”
“I just wanted to make sure you knew it hadn’t changed. In case…”
“Little Vice, we’re both standing in the darkest corner of the room to avoid being asked if we want to hold your brother’s newborn baby. I think it’s pretty clear that children aren’t in our future, and I am completely okay with that.”
I burst with laughter again, and August’s eyes ignite as he matches it. We grow loud enough that our cover is blown, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room.
“I know what y’all are doing, but you are going to meet your niece,” Leo chimes.
“No, yeah. Totally. We planned on it,” I say, stepping closer to the rest of them. My mom holds Willow now as Lou stands beside her, studying the baby girl. “But it looks like Lou is really excited to hold her next, so we should probably let her do that.”
“Using my eleven-year-old as a human shield, Lele?” Everett asks.
“I’d never do such a heinous thing.” I smile, hoping to will some lightness into the tension between us, but my twin only rolls his eyes and scoffs before helping Lou sit down on the couch beside Darby’s bed as my mother places the baby in her arms.
“What’s going on there?” Leo asks, eyeing us curiously.
I force another smile in his direction, not missing the way my mother frowns at the interaction. “Nothing you need to worry about right now.”
Leo humphs, and I lean against August’s shoulder as he sighs into the top of my head. We watch Lou hold her tiny cousin in her arms, brushing her thumb over the baby’s cheek.
“Hi, Willow.” She smiles before lifting her to head to Dahlia. “Mom, when you have your baby, can you name them after a Taylor Swift song too?”
Shocked gasps echo through the room as every single one of us turns our attention to Everett and Dahlia. Everett winces, biting his lip as he runs a hand through his hair. Dahlia’s eyes fall closed, a deep, rough sigh escaping her lips.
“I’m sorry, what?” my mother exclaims.
I glance at Lou again, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed as she whispers, “Oops.”