3. Leila
Leila
F ive in the morning is peaceful in Havenwood.
No cars on the street rushing to beat big city traffic.
No noise except that of nature.
It’s soothing.
Unless you have an angry newborn with the lungs of a mandrake.
Since she isn’t in her usual bassinette with the blackout curtains and extra loud sound machine, she has woken up every hour or so.
My nipples ache from the constant cluster feeds, my temples pound with the building stress and lack of sleep, and I probably look like a racoon at this point.
Kaia’s screams continue as I bounce her, patting her diaper-clad bottom as we move side to side. She has a clean diaper, a full belly, and still, she screams.
I’m milliseconds away from letting myself join her when the door latch clicks and Gavin appears in the doorway of my room rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Yep. I definitely want to cry with her now.
“Sorry, Gav. I don’t know what’s wrong.” I can feel the edge of panic creeping in, the guilt at waking my brother up stronger than normal. “I’ll start looking for our own place later today.”
“You aren’t moving, sis. She had a lot of travel and is in a strange place.” He walks forward and holds his hands out, not so subtly asking me to pass over his niece. As I place her in his steady arms, I wish I could fall into them, too.
Time and again, I feel so out of my element. Most days, I’m barely a functioning human being battling PTSD and depression, a pro at masking. But moments like this make me second-guess every decision I’ve made since the night Kaia was conceived.
Did I do the right thing by having her?
Did I do the right thing by choosing to keep her rather than giving her up for adoption?
Did I do the right thing by not pushing harder to get the man who destroyed my heart after having just pieced it back together involved in all of this sooner?
I watch in awe as my brother flips Kaia onto her stomach and settles her over his forearm, his other hand rubbing small circles at the base of her spine.
Within seconds, she quiets, her chunky little face nuzzling in close.
Tears burn my eyes as jealousy tries to rear its head at how easily Gavin managed to settle her.
Something I should have been able to do as her mother.
I turn away before Gavin can see the tears tracking down my cheeks. The last thing he needs is to add my inability to parent to his list of concerns. “If you try to lay her down, she’s going to wake back up.”
“Do you want me to take her back to my room and let her sleep on my chest? I was getting up soon anyway to look over some reports before I head over to the ranch.”
“I think I need to go for a run,” I choke out. I watch Gavin nod from the corner of my eye.
“Take your phone so I can get you if she wakes back up.”
What he means is take your phone so I can track your whereabouts , but he won’t say that outright.
Instead of starting an argument for the sake of arguing, I nod my gratitude, drop a kiss to the precious angel in his arms, and grab my sweatshirt, throwing it on over the tank and shorts I was sleeping in.
I slide my feet into my running shoes, grab some cash, and slip out as quietly as I can. Hopefully the coffee shop is open.
***
Gavin’s old house, the one we just moved back into, sits on the outskirts of town.
And although Havenwood is tiny with less than 2,500 people, it contains a lot of land.
It means my early morning run to the town square is roughly three miles.
Since it’s a Saturday, there’s nearly zero traffic and the roads are quiet as I jog along the sidewalks.
When I found out that I was pregnant with Kaia, I had to make a choice: stay on my anti-depressants and anxiety meds with unknown risks to baby or quit taking them.
Running and punching things seem to be the only outlets that have helped me.
I jogged daily until thirty-two weeks and was finally able to start back a week ago.
It’s a lot of stop and go as I regain that part of myself.
And now that I’ve been lucky enough to breastfeed, I’ve been too worried about trying to balance a new medication on top of everything else.
As I make it to the outskirts of the square, everything is still quiet.
The only thing open is the old café, which has had a major renovation since the last time I was here.
Granted, that was a decade ago, but the old sign has been replaced with one that says The Write Brew .
It’s beautiful inside, the olive green popping with the soft lavender and dark wood floors and counters.
I’m still taking in the new bookstore side when a squeal pierces my ear right before I’m tackled in a hug.
Kelsey Riley’s tiny frame wraps around me like a spider monkey.
“I can’t believe you guys are actually here!” She glances around, as if expecting someone to be walking in behind me. Like anyone else is mentally unstable enough to join me on a pre-dawn run. “Is Kaia with Gavin?” she asks in a near-whisper.
I just nod, still not sure how to react to being in her presence again.
My brother’s best friend has always been a spitfire.
She’s impossible not to like, making friends with everyone she meets.
She’s the only person Gavin shared things with while I was pregnant, although she doesn’t know who the father is.
Gavin swore to leave that to me, and until yesterday when Declan showed up to help us unpack and just immediately knew Kaia was his niece, I was waiting to tell anyone else until Drew knew.
“Kaia was having a rough go of being in a new place, so Gavin is at the house snuggling her while I went for a run. Needed to clear my head a bit.”
She starts walking toward the counter and gestures to it. “Coffee, pastries, or both?” I’m about to pull a fresh pan of blueberry scones out from the back. They have the most amazing sugar glaze drizzled on top.”
I give her a knowing look. “You licked the bowl, didn’t you?”
“Hell yes I did, missy. I know better than to let the tasty things in life go to waste.”
She sets about fixing two coffees and some pastries before stepping into the back and returning with two scones. She never once asks what I want, just preps it all and sets it in a big bag with handles. “I’ll give you a ride back home.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”
“It’s three miles. You’re not walking that far back while carrying my delicious treats. They’re too precious to eat cold. Now, let’s go.” She hollers to the back area, “Hey, Jett. Wakey, wakey. I’ll be back soon.”
A faint “nighty-night” sounds from the back room.
Kelsey grins to herself. “Jett is my co-owner. She runs the book side of things but is really good at the coffee side, too.”
“Is she actually awake?”
Kelsey flips her hand in dismissal. “That girl can nearly match my energy at the drop of a hat. She’ll be on it if anyone decides to venture in before I get back. But honestly, with it being Saturday, the likelihood of anyone coming in this early is slim.”
We walk out front, and Kelsey leads me to her car, setting the bag of goods in the back seat.
“Run into anyone yet?” she asks with a sideways glance, and I immediately know she’s referring to Drew.
I shake my head. “Declan was there when we came in, but this is my first time venturing out. Hell of a time of day to explore, right?” I push a strand of loose hair from my face.
“This is good, though,” I say with much more confidence than I feel.
“I wanted to lay eyes on the town, see what’s what without anyone breathing down my neck.
I haven’t been back since I was sixteen.
Now, I’m here with a kid in tow. There’s bound to be gossip. ”
She laughs, the trill soft in the silence of her car. “Well, yeah. It’s Havenwood. We take care of our own, and you, my dear friend, are about to be bombarded with people wanting to help you guys settle in.”
That’s what I’m worried about. This town has a way of making you look deep into things you’d rather forget. Even if they all mean well.