Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
EVIE
You know those scenes in movies where a woman finally gets her big break and is starting her dream job, only on her first day of work, her car won’t start and her shoe gets caught in the drainage grate and she spills coffee on her shirt and she meets her boss for the first time when she’s crying in the elevator?
I’m living one of those scenes. Except, plot twist, the only obstacle ruining my first day is an almost-five-month-old baby girl. Sometime in between her very smiley evening flirting with Alec and the twins while they ate their soup and talked about their time on the road and right now, Juno was clearly possessed by demon spawn that robbed her of the ability to sleep.
Maybe it’s the full moon? A new tooth coming in?
All I know is it’s nearly two AM, she will not fall asleep, and I’m supposed to be at Victoria’s tomorrow at ten AM sharp.
I guess it could be worse. I could have to work at seven. Even eight would feel tough.
But I still can’t stop doing the math. If Juno falls asleep right this second, I’m still only getting four hours of sleep before I have to wake up, feed her, get her ready to spend the day with Ruth, then make it to work. And I really wanted to get to Ruth’s early, with plenty of time to spare just in case Juno had a hard time settling in.
Which she probably will now that she’s also getting zero sleep.
Juno lets out a whimper, and I reposition her on my shoulder as we pace back and forth across our bedroom. The fact that I’m so keyed up, worrying about work tomorrow can’t be helping things because Juno has to be feeding off my energy.
But we’ve tried everything. She doesn’t want to eat or burp. She’s clean and dry and there are no tags or loose threads on her pajamas that might be bothering her. She’s just grumpy.
I reach the bathroom door on the far side of my bedroom, then turn and pace back toward the window. As long as I’m moving, Juno seems to do okay, but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I’m tempted to just put her in her crib and let her cry while I take a shower long enough to calm myself down, but this isn’t my house, and I have no idea if the sound will carry across to Alec’s room.
He just got home, and he looked exhausted. There’s no way I want to ruin his sleep with a wailing Juno.
When I pass the bedroom door one more time, I change course and head out into the hallway. Maybe a change of scenery will help?
I head downstairs without really thinking, but I hesitate at the bottom, glancing down at the very skimpy tank top sleep dress I’m wearing. It’s my favorite because the fabric is thick without being too heavy, and it makes nursing really easy. But it’s not exactly something I’d choose to wear in front of people. Especially not men, and there are three of those somewhere in the house.
Still, it’s well after midnight and the house is quiet, all the lights off save the tiny one over the stove in the kitchen, and I’m the only one in the house with a baby. It’s not likely I’ll run into anyone else, and honestly at this point, I’m too tired to care. Definitely too tired to go back upstairs to change clothes just in case.
Juno squirms in my arms and lets out another whimper, lifting her tiny fists to her face. It’s a gesture I recognize, and it means she’s exhausted, so why won’t she just sleep already?
I pass by the television in the living room and get an idea. I haven’t used Alec’s video since moving to Harvest Hollow, though I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe because it seems silly when we’re living in his house? But it was tried and true a month ago, so maybe I’ll get lucky and it will work on Juno now.
I usually watch it on Instagram, and I left my phone upstairs, but I bet I can find it on YouTube, and I can do that from Alec’s TV. It takes a couple minutes of searching to find the right video, but I eventually do and push play, breathing out a weary sigh as I do.
“This better work, Junebug.” I keep the volume low, then pace back and forth in front of the TV, bouncing Juno in the glow of Alec’s face. I guess this might run the risk of waking someone up too, but it has to be better than wailing baby cries.
Juno stills in my arms, her eyes transfixed on the screen. On Alec.
“I can’t blame you there, baby girl,” I say softly, running a hand up and down her back.
Alec smiles as the interviewer asks him a question—something about his responsibilities as captain and how he interacts with his team. Even though I’ve seen this video a million times—thank you, Juno—watching it on Alec’s enormous television hits a little differently. He really is so unbelievably handsome. Confident and charming, but somehow still self-deprecating and humble. And that glint in his eye… gah, it’s just so sexy.
And he invited me to have dinner with him and his friends.
Logically, I know it’s not really a big deal. A big group thing. That’s what he called it. Just a casual gathering of friends.
But it doesn’t feel casual to me.
During the symphony concert with Victoria last week, I easily spotted Gracie. Both because she’s principal cello and because she was by far the most beautiful woman on stage.
At the reception after the concert, Victoria introduced me to several musicians, including Gracie, and I had a few moments to explain my connection to Alec. She smiled wide and gave me a big hug, saying she couldn’t wait to get to know me better. She was so kind, and I immediately liked her, but once I was home, I looked her up on Instagram. Her profile is full of pictures of her and Felix and her best friend, Summer, who I already know is dating Nathan. Summer’s profile led me to several others, all people who seem connected to the Appies. I couldn’t quite piece together exactly how, but I’d be willing to bet a lot of the people I found will be included in the group dinner. Which is only problematic in the sense that every single one of them is young and vibrant and happy and beautiful and very much part of a couple.
Then there’s me.
With my postpartum body and my milk-filled boobs and a tagalong baby.
I’m not one who usually struggles with confidence. I don’t think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world, but I have great hair and decent skin, and when I wear makeup, I really know how to make my blue eyes pop. But even when it’s being kind, childbearing is tough on a body. I’m a little looser, a little more jiggly than I ever was before. My boobs are different, my hips are different. Everything is different.
Which is fine, honestly. The expectations society heaps onto women are ridiculous anyway. But I’m only human, and this human is having a hard time not comparing myself to all the beautiful women I’ll meet whenever this dinner happens, especially when I would really love to impress Alec.
Alec’s video reaches the end, and I pick up the remote and restart it. That’s when a truly horrifying thought pops into my brain.
What if Riley comes to dinner?
It’s an irrational question because Riley’s Instagram profile makes it very clear she lives in Chicago. But Chicago has airports. Even if Megan is convinced she isn’t really dating Alec, I can’t know for sure. Maybe she’s perfectly willing, in all her Flex-clad glory, to hop on an airplane to attend a dinner party with her very sexy boyfriend.
Except , that doesn’t sound right. Megan was right when she said Alec isn’t a player. If only to respect his commitment to someone else, I think he would have different boundaries with me if there were another woman in the picture.
The long hug, all the texting, the baby gift. Those things don’t necessarily mean Alec wants more than friendship. But they do feel like more than he’d be doing if he had a girlfriend.
If he and I really were dating, I’d be pissed to find out he was texting someone as much as he’s been texting me. I just don’t think he’d do that.
Juno and I are halfway through a second listen of Alec’s video when the floor creaks behind me, and I spin to see the man himself standing at the edge of the living room. He’s shirtless and barefoot, pajama pants slung low on his hips, looking sleepy and disheveled and entirely too sexy.
My eyes graze over the dips and curves of his bare chest, the sculpted muscles dusted with hair and marked with a small tattoo on the top of his left pectoral. From here, it looks like the Appies logo.
“Hey,” I say. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, I got up for a drink,” he says. “Then I heard myself talking and…” His words trail off like he can’t quite figure out why his face is filling his television screen.
“Juno likes it,” I say, heat climbing my cheeks. I’m at least grateful it’s dark enough that he probably can’t see. “Something about the register of your voice, or the tone. It usually calms her, puts her to sleep when nothing else will.”
Juno’s whimpers escalate into more of a cry, and I let out a frustrated whimper of my own.
Alec walks a little closer. “She’s having a rough time?”
“We’ve been at this for hours. I can tell she’s exhausted, but she just won’t sleep. She’s not exactly setting us up for a great first day tomorrow.”
Alec studies me for a long moment, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Can I try?” he finally asks.
I lift my eyebrows. “Really?”
He nods. “You look like you could use a break. If she likes my voice, I’ll just…talk to her. See if it helps.”
He steps closer—close enough for me to feel the warmth of his big body—and lifts a hand to Juno’s back.
Juno lifts her head, her cries trailing off as she looks at Alec.
“Are you sure?”
He chuckles. “It might not even work. But yeah. I’m willing to try.”
I shift Juno into his arms. He looks awkward at first, but it only takes a moment for him to relax, Juno tucked firmly against his chest.
He tilts his head toward the tv. “Turn that off?”
I nod and reach for the remote, pausing the video but leaving it on, since it’s the only light to see by. I watch as Alec makes his way around the perimeter of the room, a light bounce in his step as he rubs his hand up and down Juno’s back. It’s not quite a natural movement. He looks like he’s trying really hard, thinking about his steps, thinking about the way he’s holding her. But the longer he walks, the more he seems to relax, settling into a rhythm that seems to be working for them both.
And then my heart climbs into my throat because Alec starts to sing.
At first I can’t quite make out what, exactly, he’s singing, but then he turns so he’s facing me again, and I pick up the chorus to Phil Collins’, “You’ll Be in My Heart.” It’s an old song. Stupid old. I only know it from the Tarzan movie that played on repeat in the waiting room of the children’s hospital where my little brother got all his chemo treatments.
But how does Alec know it?
However he does, he sounds good. Completely on key, his tone rich and smooth.
Having spent two years married to a theater major with a minor in vocal performance, I recognize a good voice when I hear one. And based on this little, tiny teaser, I’m betting Alec is as good as some of Devon’s classmates.
I have no idea why Megan has never mentioned that her brother has such a beautiful voice or how I missed this growing up, but I am completely transfixed. Forget his Instagram reels. I just need to record this. Juno will never struggle to sleep again. It’s only been a couple of minutes, and she already looks calmer, her body relaxed, her head resting on Alec’s shoulder.
I, on the other hand, may never sleep again. I’ll just keep replaying this moment over and over.
When he sings the line, “For one so small, you seem so strong,” tears fill my eyes.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. On the one hand, the image of a shirtless Alec cradling my baby girl against his chest while he sings to her is a level of sexy I could not have dreamed up myself. But it’s more than that. Seeing Alec hold Juno brings into stark clarity just how much she’s missing by not having her dad around. Not that I can imagine Devon ever being this gentle, this patient with Juno.
I tug a blanket off the back of the chair and wrap it around my shoulders, then drop onto the end of the couch. Momentum with a dash of desperation has gotten me through the last few months. It propelled me all the way to North Carolina, even though I only feel like I barely know what I’m doing. With Juno, with life, with everything.
But right now, I feel exhaustion all the way down to my bones.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. How I’m supposed to raise a baby all by myself while also figuring out how to have a career and a life. Most of the time, Juno is a great baby. But babies are nothing if not unpredictable, and they’re not exactly known for planning their tantrums and meltdowns around their parents’ work schedules.
Or parent singular. One parent. Just me.
I lean back onto the couch and close my eyes. Alec has no idea the gift he’s given me. It feels so good to just breathe for a second. To trust that at least for this small moment, Juno is safe in someone else’s arms.
I wake up with my head resting against Alec’s chest as he carries me up the stairs, one arm under my back and the other under my knees. My senses wake up slowly as I try to process where I am and how I got here.
Alec smells amazing, clean and woodsy and masculine, and his skin feels warm and smooth where my arms are draped around his neck.
Even though I’m rocking my post-baby curves like it’s my full-time job, it doesn’t seem like he’s working to carry me at all. I mean, I know he’s a professional athlete, but I’m not some tiny delicate flower of a woman. There’s some heft to this body—to these boobs, which, oh geez I hope my boobs are covered.
Speaking of boobs and the infant they’re responsible for feeding...did Alec leave my baby downstairs to carry me upstairs?
“Juno,” I whisper.
“Already in her crib,” Alec says, his voice low to match mine.
We reach the top of the stairs, and he carries me through my open bedroom doorway. The room is mostly dark, but the bathroom light is on, so there’s just enough light spilling in for me to see Juno tucked into her portable crib, her chest rising and falling in peaceful sleep. She’s even bundled up in her sleep sack—something Alec must have remembered from when we put Juno to bed the night before he left for the road.
“You’re a magic baby whisperer,” I say as Alec lowers me onto my bed. He tucks my feet under the covers and pulls them up to my chest.
“I don’t know how long it’ll last,” he says, “but I hope you can sleep while it does.”
I close my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his kindness. Maybe it’s because my emotions were already so close to the surface when I fell asleep, but tears fill my eyes for the second time tonight, one spilling over onto my cheek.
Alec sits down on the bed beside me, and I open my eyes. His face is heavily shadowed in the dim light, but I can see enough to recognize the concern in his expression. He lifts his hand and wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb, his palm lingering near my face. “You okay?”
I nod and sniff. “Just tired.” I take a slow breath, my eyes falling closed again. “Tired of doing this alone.”
Alec’s hand brushes down my cheek, and I can’t keep myself from leaning into his touch.
“You aren’t alone,” he whispers. “Now try to sleep.”
I’m already halfway there, my eyes closing as my awareness grows hazy. When I feel Alec shift and lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, I’m not entirely sure it isn’t part of the best dream I’ve had in a very long time.