Chapter Fifteen
Owen
My alarm rang right next to my head where I’d stashed it under my pillow to try to muffle it once I realized Willa was going to have a long night with a very fussy Adelaide.
I went in twice, offering to try to rock or bottle-feed her so Willa could catch some sleep, but she’d insisted that I needed the sleep more since I had work in the morning.
A small part of me was a little disappointed that Willa and I hadn’t gotten a few more minutes alone together. Especially after having sex. But the reality of parenthood meant sometimes you didn’t get exactly what you wanted because the baby had to get what she needed.
Besides, there would be more time with Willa.
I rolled out of bed, motivated to get the morning started so I could get to work, then hopefully get back early and grab a few hours with Willa.
I got dressed and made my way downstairs to let a very tired Tuna—who seemed to have been up all night with his favorite baby as well—out and give him breakfast.
Finished with that, I made two quick omelets—setting one in the fridge for Willa and eating my own as I threw in a load of wash, filled and ran the dishwasher, then took Tuna out one last time.
Finished with that, I dug out a pen and pad and jotted down a note about having fed Tuna and left her breakfast in the fridge, and that I would bring dinner home so she didn’t have to worry about that.
“Be a good boy for her today, okay?” I said to Tuna as I made my way to the door. “I’ll be back later.”
I busted my ass all morning and spent my lunch break driving home to get a few more changes of clothes in the van. Just in case.
When I decided to cut out of work a little earlier than I should have, I went ahead and pretended it was just because I was tired, not because I was eager to see Willa again.
I stopped for coffee, then food, before pulling into Willa’s driveway.
I walked in to the sound of not only Adelaide crying, but Willa as well.
“Hey,” I said, voice soft, as I placed down the food and drinks and walked toward Willa on the couch. “It’s okay.” When I reached for Adelaide and Willa easily let her go, I knew that it had been a rough day after a rough night.
I pressed Adelaide to my shoulder as she squirmed and screamed, rubbing my hand up and down her back until, little by little, she quieted down.
Willa, though, only cried harder, curling into herself and rocking.
“I couldn’t do anything right,” she whimpered.
“Hey, it was just a bad day,” I said, curling my free arm around her and pulling her to my side. “You’re exhausted. She’s exhausted. And you’re feeding on each other’s energy.”
She sniffled and nodded, but I could still feel the tears through the arm of my tee. “I don’t understand what was so wrong. She’s been fussy before, but never like this.”
“Has she slept at all?”
“Not really. Twenty minutes here and there.”
“That’s probably all it was. The more tired she got, the more upset she was.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, exhaling hard.
“Why don’t you go sneak a nap in?” I asked. “I can handle her for a few hours.”
“I can’t ask—”
“You’re not,” I reminded her.
“But what if she—”
“If she needs you, I will bring her to you. I promise.”
She looked torn, but so exhausted she was probably barely seeing straight.
“I’m just going to nap here,” she said, reaching behind her to settle the pillow against the arm of the couch.
“Okay,” I agreed as she settled.
She was out cold in under two minutes.
I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered her before getting up with Adelaide, who I didn’t dare put down if she was sleeping, to take out Tuna, then grab a few bites of food.
It wasn’t long, though, before Adelaide started to fuss again.
Wanting to give Willa at least an uninterrupted hour or two, I took Adelaide up to the nursery to rock her in the glider, then put her in her swing, then back out to rock again.
Willa wasn’t imagining it—Adelaide was more than a normal amount of fussy. At least that’s how I felt based on the experience I had around babies. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a ton, but felt like a decent frame of reference.
I did manage to keep her mostly quiet for the better part of two hours.
But when she kept trying to turn her face toward my chest, I figured she was probably hungry again.
I was going to try to gently wake up Willa, but just as I was coming around the couch, Adelaide let out a full-on wail that had Willa jolting upright, eyes wide but unseeing for a moment.
“I think she’s hungry,” I explained, voice gentle as I handed her the baby.
“Oh, right,” she agreed as I pressed a burp cloth to her shoulder then walked toward the kitchen to reheat the coffee I’d gotten on the way home for her.
When I walked back in, Willa was wide awake.
“How long was I out?”
“Just about two hours.”
“She slept the whole time?”
“Not at all. You’re right. She’s definitely fussy today. Coffee? I got you full caffeine today. I know it’s been a rough one. But I can make decaf if you want.”
“God, no. I need this.”
“I brought Italian too. Hopefully, she settles after this.”
The problem was, Adelaide didn’t seem to want to nurse. Willa tried and tried again, but told me as she burped her that she was barely drinking.
But she did fall back to sleep afterward, so we figured she was just tired.
After changing her, Willa joined me in the kitchen to nuke dinner and eat.
I fed Tuna and took him outside.
When I got back, Willa was once again asleep on the couch. And I didn’t dare wake her.
So I took Tuna for a long walk that he probably didn’t need, since he was already worn out, but more to clear my own head so if I walked back in to chaos, I would be able to be the calm both the girls needed.
But all was quiet in the house.
Tuna took himself to the bed Willa had ordered him, curled up, and passed out. Not sure what to do, I sat down on the couch at Willa’s feet. I didn’t want to abandon her, in case she woke up and needed me. But I also didn’t want to walk around her house when she wasn’t aware of it, either.
So I sat and half-watched TV and half kept looking between the girls, feeling a warm sensation and a tug that I was sure would pull if I strayed too far from them.
But as the fourth hour passed and not only didn’t Willa stir, but neither did Adelaide, the overwhelming feeling was worry.
I got up, unable to shake the sloshing in my stomach, and went to the bassinet, then reached out and touched her forehead.
She was warm.
Way too warm.
“Willa,” I called, reaching out to shake her arm. “Willa,” I called again. She stirred, but didn’t wake up.
My hand went to her forehead.
And, yeah, she was burning up too. Maybe even more than her daughter.
“Shit,” I said, feeling a sinking sensation, not sure what to do.
But it was during that panic that I heard her phone ringing from somewhere in the house.
I made a beeline for it, figuring there might be help on the other side. I was hoping for Gracie, since I knew her. But the screen said Mom instead.
That would do.
I swiped the screen and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” I said.
There was a short pause. “Is… Willa there?”
“This is Owen,” I told her.
“The contractor?”
“Yeah. I’ve been… working on the house. But I think Willa needs some help over here.”
“Help?” she asked, her voice tight. “What’s wrong?”
“Adelaide has been really fussy all day. And barely nursing. I haven’t heard her cry in almost four hours so I went to check her. She’s hot. I tried to wake Willa… and she’s hot too.”
“We’re on our way,” she said, and I could hear her grabbing things. “Ten minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
Her panic only fueled mine, so I went to lift Adelaide out of her bassinet and pulled off her socks and mittens, trying to cool her off a little.
“Someone much more experienced than me is going to be here soon,” I told a pretty lethargic Adelaide. “They’re gonna fix you up.”
I walked over to the front door, unlocking it, and waiting by the window to watch for headlights.
It was under seven minutes before they came flying up the driveway.
By the time a gorgeous blond woman wearing a pajama set much like the ones Willa often wore made her way up the driveway, I had the door open.
I didn’t even greet her, just handed over the baby and watched as she pressed her lips to her granddaughter’s forehead.
“Oh, poor baby,” she said, moving inside with her.
I waited for Willa’s father to walk up.
He was a unit—tall, fit, tanned skin, black and gray tattoos, studs in his ears, but dressed in black pajama pants and a tee.
“Owen,” he greeted me, taking my hand when I offered it. “I’m Paine. That’s Elsie,” he said, nodding toward where his wife was sucking up medicine in an eyedropper. “Thanks for letting us know something was up. Point me to my girl.”
“She’s on the couch,” I said, nodding toward it as I closed the door.
Beside Elsie, Tuna whimpered and tapped his little feet anxiously on the floor.
“She’s gonna be okay, bud,” I said, walking over to pet his head. “Right?” I asked Elsie after she plunged the medicine into the baby’s mouth.
“Right,” she agreed. “She’s warm, but not as hot as I was worried about. Do you know how long she’s had a fever?”
“I know she didn’t when I put her down maybe six hours ago. Willa fed her and put her down about four hours ago. I think she would have noticed if she was warm. Adelaide was fussy all night and all day today. I guess she wasn’t feeling well but wasn’t showing any obvious signs yet.”
Elsie watched me for a moment.
“Are you seeing my daughter?” she asked, voice low.
“I…”
“Sorry. No. Don’t answer that. That’s not my business. Do you know if she had a full meal at her last feeding?”
“She didn’t. Willa said she barely nursed.”
“Okay. Can you hold her for me so I can warm up some milk?” she asked.
“Of course,” I agreed, taking the baby and watching Elsie grab a bag of breast milk from the fridge and warm it up before pouring it into a bottle.
“Else,” Paine called, making Elsie look over. “Wanna help Wills for a minute?”
“I can feed her,” I said, taking the bottle from Elsie.
She rushed over toward Willa, who had her arms folded over her chest. Four hours without nursing the baby. I had to imagine she’d leaked through her clothes.
“Owen?” Willa called as she passed, her face flushed red from fever, but her eyes swimming with worry.
“She’s okay,” I assured her. “Grandma says so.”
“We lived through much worse fevers with you as a baby,” Elsie told her daughter as she led her toward the steps.
Alone with Willa’s father, I felt the weight of a million unsaid words filling the room.
The first one to escape him was, “Coffee?”
“Please,” I said, wiggling the bottle in Adelaide’s mouth until she finally latched.
“Been here a while, huh?” he asked, fishing like his wife had, but with a little more subtlety.
And I damn sure wasn’t going to lie to her old man.
“Yeah.”
He glanced over at me with piercing eyes. He gave me a nod. “So long as you treat her better than that asshole who helped make me a grandfather, I guess I have nothing against that.”
It was the first time I’d heard anyone mention Adelaide’s father. It seemed to be a touchy topic that everyone tiptoed around. I guess you could always count on a father figure to be blunt, though.
“Is it normal for Willa to spike fevers like that?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. Ever since she was Adelaide’s age. Had her mom and me sitting up worried lotta nights over the years. She can seem fine one moment, then be hallucinating from the fever the next. Any idea where they might have picked something up?”
“Um. I don’t know. Willa and I went to a work event a little bit back.”
“Heard about that from Gracie,” he said.
“And they came to my house for dinner. But I was the only one there. I think Adelaide had a doctor visit recently, though.”
“That’ll do it. Those places are petri dishes.
I swear I brought one of my kids in for a well visit and they came back sick.
Here,” he said when the baby gave up on the bottle.
“Let me have her. I’ve got the magic touch when it comes to burping,” he said, swiping one of the many burp cloths scattered all around the house and pressing it to his shoulder before taking Adelaide from me and pressing her there.
“Interesting talent,” I said when, with two rubs down the baby’s back, he got a loud burp out of her.
“Couldn’t do the feeding with my kids. Had to pick up something else I was good at.”
With that, he rocked his granddaughter as I took instructions on how to make him and his wife a coffee. And made myself and Willa one as well.
Eventually, Elsie came down the stairs alone, fiddling around in a cabinet and the fridge.
“Owen, do you mind bringing this up to Willa?” she asked, putting a bottle of water and two pills down on the counter before reaching for the baby. “I’m going to snuggle my sick grandbaby.”
“I can—” Paine started.
“I need you to find someplace open and get some electrolytes and more medicine—infant and adult. And tissues. Vitamin C. Vapor rub. We both know this is going to turn into a whole thing eventually.”
“I can—” I started.
“No,” Elsie said, a little too quickly, making her husband’s lips curve up.
“I’ve got you blocked in,” he said, reaching for his keys. “I’ll be right back. You need anything?”
It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. “No, thanks.”
Elsie and I both watched him leave before I gathered the water and medicine.
“Between you and me, Willa can be very… fragile when she’s sick. She hates feeling crummy, and it makes her a little tender. Just a warning. But if you tell her I told you that, I will deny it,” she added with a smirk.
“Got it,” I agreed.
I made my way up the stairs toward the primary bedroom. Willa was sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders slumped, her face buried in her hands.
I sucked in a deep breath and moved into the room.
“Hey, honey.”