29. Luke
LUKE
“Welcome home, Rory,” I say as I set the baby carrier down on the floor. He yawns in response. He’s only three days old and I think he’s already embarrassed of us.
“I want to shower,” Bertie pleads. “That hospital shower was awful.”
“Do you need help?” I ask.
“I … Maybe. I’ll leave the door cracked just in case. Can you handle him?”
I unclip the straps across his chest. “Of course.”
She gives me a relieved smile. “I think I’ll feel like a whole new person once I can wash my hair.”
She grabs some fresh clothes from the dresser and disappears into the bathroom while I sit down on the couch with Rory.
He’s practically drowning in his little outfit—a blue zippered thing with sports icons on it—despite it being newborn size.
His weight went down while we were in the hospital but apparently that’s normal.
My mom is supposed to come visit later today. She wanted to come before we left the hospital but couldn’t get the time off from work since it was unexpected.
Turning the TV on, I scroll and settle on a channel replaying the Lord of the Rings movies. I haven’t watched them in forever. Not since high school, I think.
The shower turns on and the curtain rips back a moment later.
“Oh, God,” Bertie practically moans, making my treacherous dick twitch in response. “I love water pressure.”
I can’t help but laugh. Rory gives a cry of annoyance. Apparently, he doesn’t like the jostling of my laughter.
I rub his back in gentle, soothing circles. “Sorry, buddy.”
He makes a grunt in response and promptly poops.
The smell is gag-worthy.
“Jeez, little guy.” I carry him over to the dresser where we have a changing pad on top. “Let me get you cleaned up before mommy gets out of her shower or else she’s going to think she can’t leave me alone with you for five-minutes.”
He flails his limbs in response. He’s probably getting hungry again, but I’m hoping he can hold out on screaming for a few more minutes and let Bertie finish her shower in peace.
Considering everything she’s been through, not just in the past few days, but in the last few months as well, she deserves some peace.
I finish putting Rory’s fresh diaper in place and zip up his pajamas.
I find myself looking down at him for a long moment, just soaking him in.
His size. His big blue eyes. The shock of dark hair.
I wouldn’t dare say it to Bertie, but I’m glad he came just a little early, so I get this extra solo time before preseason begins.
This is time I know I’ll never get back and I fucking hate that I’m going to miss so much of it, but I also know I’m providing for him and for his mom.
Picking up the baby, I cradle him in my arms and sit back down on the sofa. The shower cuts off and I call out, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just give me a few more minutes. Does he seem hungry?”
“He’s getting there,” I reply honestly.
“I won’t be long,” she promises.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper to Rory. “Mommy will be here in just a minute.”
He gives an impatient snort in response.
A few minutes later Bertie emerges in a pair of soft looking blue pants and just her nursing bra.
“Come here my hungry little monster.” She holds her hands out for him. “At the rate you’re going you’re going to be the size of your dad in a month.”
I chuckle. “God, I hope not.”
“You never know,” she says, taking the baby before she plops in the chair to my left. She unclips the bra and the baby immediately nuzzles his head into her breast and latches on. “God, that hurts. I thought it would be okay by now.”
“Do I need to get anything for you?”
“No.” She strokes Rory’s cheek. “I’ll do some research, though, and see if I come across anything that might help.”
I silently vow to do my own research as well, because I hate the idea of her suffering in any way.
We’ve already managed to fall into a routine so when Rory finishes eating, she passes him off to me to burp.
“He’s so small,” she says, watching me as I adjust his position since the first way I had him wasn’t working to bring up any burps. “I know I keep saying it, but I don’t know … I guess I haven’t been around babies enough to realize how tiny they are. Look at him, he’s smaller than your bicep.”
I throw my head back in laughter and Rory gives an annoyed grunt. Kid is only a few days old, and he’s already annoyed by me. Figures. “Your compliments are great for my ego.”
“It’s just the truth.” She yawns. “Why am I so tired? I thought I got a good amount of sleep.”
I nod toward the bed. “Go lay down and take a nap. I can handle watching this one.” Rory finally gives out a loud burp that sounds like it comes from a grown man not an infant.
“What time is your mom supposed to get here?”
“Not for a while yet. I think she said it would be around four o’ clock. She’s going to bring us dinner.”
Bertie frowns, wringing her fingers together. “She doesn’t need to do that.”
I’m not sure Bertie realizes it, but she has a difficult time letting anyone do anything to take care of her.
“She knows she doesn’t, but she wants to.”
“That’s really nice of her.” I eye her in concern when her eyes fill with unshed tears. “You’re so lucky to have such a great mom.”
My heart does a sad little dip for her. “Oh, baby. Come here.”
I open my arm that’s not holding Rory and let her dive in. She buries her head in the crook of my neck and sniffles. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Because you’re allowed to be sad, baby.”
She lets me hold her for a good while before she finally gets up and fixes a fresh cup of water. “Are you sure you’re okay if I nap?” Her eyes bounce between mine and the baby in my arms.
“If we need you, I know how to get you. It’s not like there’s any walls.” I gesture around us and she gives a tired laugh.
“Good point.”
I turn the volume down on the TV, so it doesn’t disturb Bertie and put captions on instead. She brings the blankets up to her chin and I’m pretty sure she’s out within a minute, her breaths going soft and even.
Rory yawns sleepily and I rock him in my arms until he’s asleep too. I gently place him down in the bassinet beside the bed. Bertie keeps sleeping, unawares.
I smile at the two sleeping figures.
My heart is so full of love. For the both of them. My family.