20. Juniper
Juniper
Every time Wilder cried, it shredded Juniper’s soul to pieces.
She had tried everything. He was fed and dry. She had massaged his little belly in case it was gas pains making him wail. When all else failed, she carried him outside to pace the edge of the orchard by the light of the moon.
The damp grass was cold on her feet, but Wilder was warm in the blanket that she’d knit for him when he was still just the size of her hand. Now he was ten pounds of panic screaming in her ear, and she had a horrifying impulse to just drop him and bolt.
What kind of mother felt that way?
They were right. All the pitying looks, all the doubters. She wasn’t cut out for this.
More to soothe herself than the baby – because she had tried lullabies earlier that night, and he had just cried louder – Juniper started to sing.
Hush little baby, don’t move an inch.
Mama’s gonna show you a saffron finch.
It was a song that she had made up one day, resting in the orchard and watching the green-and-gold birds hop across the grass. She had sung it to her baby before he was ever born, before he had a name, and she had nearly forgotten about it.
It came back to her now fully formed, her dreams for him.
We’ll go to the garden and plant some seeds.
You can play while I pull weeds.
We’ll go to the beach and we’ll play in the sand,
splash in the waves and run on the land.
Miraculously, it seemed to work. She sang steadily, nearly deaf to his wailing, and slowly he began to quiet.
When the sun goes down it’s time to rest,
warm and safe in our cozy nest.
When the sun comes up it’s time to play,
and you’ll enjoy a bright new day.
By the time she reached the last line, Wilder was quiet. She could have sobbed with relief.
Instead she sang it through twice more, just to be safe. His whole body relaxed, growing heavy against her chest as he settled into sleep.
“There you are.” Cody’s voice was soft, barely audible above the coqui-frog chorus. “I woke up and you were gone.”
Juniper sighed, caught somewhere between affection and irritation.
“Was he crying again?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear him.”
“You could sleep through a hurricane.”
“I can and I have.” He crossed the lawn and put a blanket around her shoulders. “Come inside. You need to rest.”
“If I put him down, he’ll wake up.”
“I’ll sit with him in the rocking chair.”
“It’s fine. I’m not sleepy anymore.”
“Maybe you don’t feel sleepy, but you need sleep.” He put a hand at the small of her back and gently urged her onward. “I’ll make you some tea. That nighttime blend of yours.”
“Okay.” She padded across the grass, sleepier with each step as the adrenaline spike induced by Wilder’s cries faded from her system.
When Cody went into the house, she stayed out on the lanai and watched clouds drift in front of the moon. The whole world grew dark, and she finally felt like she might be able to sleep.
Inside, she handed the baby to his father with trepidation. He stirred in his sleep and made tiny, adorable sounds – but he didn’t wake or cry. Juniper sighed in relief and picked up the tea that Cody had made for her.
“So,” Cody’s voice was whisper-soft as he settled into the rocking chair. “What sort of wedding do you want?”
“What?” With the warm mug clasped in both hands, Juniper went to sit closer to her little family.
“Courthouse? Beach? That’s… about all we’ve got in Hawai‘i, but I’m sure we could figure something else out if neither of those sound like you.”
“What about you?”
“It doesn’t really matter to me what the wedding looks like. It’s the marriage that matters. The relationship, I mean. Our family. You and me and him.”
A feeling of tenderness rose in her chest, and she reached out to put a hand on his knee. They sat there for a long while in the near darkness. She could just see the outline of Cody and Wilder in the faint moonlight that filtered through the clouds.
Finally, Juniper set aside her empty mug.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“You don’t think he’ll wake up?”
“I think he’ll be okay next to me.” She lifted Wilder carefully from his father’s arms and walked into the little bedroom, where she lay down with him nestled against her chest.
Cody crawled in behind her, his chest flush with her back. Being there between her son and his father soothed her whole body, right down to her soul.
With his arms around both of them, mother and baby slept straight through ‘til dawn.