Chapter Thirty-Five
The hospital stay—prolonged, now, because of the c-section, was almost as exhausting as the labor. We had a reprieve the first day after she was born because not many could break away from Christmas day festivities anyway and we enjoyed the silence. But after that? The parade of family and friends streamed through my private room during visiting hours like it was a national holiday.
Most of them brought gifts but they weren’t for us. The baby got all the loot. Heath showed up with a giant stuffed dragon—almost as big as he was—as an homage to her gamer heritage. Jordan and April came by with a huge, gorgeous bouquet of light pink hydrangeas. April asked to hold Sabrina and picked her up like a pro, like she’d been handling babies for years.
When she caught my surprise, she shrugged. “My sister and brother are twelve and fourteen years younger than me. I’ve handled babies before.”
William and Jenna came every day, bringing me fast food whenever I begged them for it. On day two, Adam’s cousin presented me with the most exquisite pencil sketch he’d done of our baby girl.
“William,” I said, jaw dropping as my eyes pored over the likeness. “This is incredible.”
“It’s just a pencil sketch. I brought it to see if you like it so I could do something more permanent.”
I blinked. “Of course I like it. I love it. I want this sketch, too. I’m greedy.”
“I’m going to need her exact time of birth so that I can do her star chart,” Jenna said with a dazzling grin. I avoided meeting Adam’s gaze as I knew he didn’t believe in astrology. I most likely didn’t either, though I hadn’t fully made up my mind yet.
And Jenna, herself, had a degree in physics and taught it in high school. But that only pushed her further away from the skeptical scientist stereotype. She’d be the first one to launch into the relationship between the metaphysical and quantum physics, when asked. I don’t think I’d ever known someone as open-minded and as accepting as Jenna.
Mom, of course, spent hours a day with me at the hospital just gazing dreamily at her granddaughter and chatting with me. When Adam had wandered home to grab something or to check in with the office briefly, she was there for me. In fact, during my stay in the hospital, I was never alone.
Ever.
And that, in and of itself, was exhausting.
At night, Adam stayed beside me on a convertible bed that folded up into a couch during the day. But neither of us got much sleep. As soon as the baby stirred, he’d pop out of bed before I could so much as move—or even, sometimes, before I’d wake up. He’d change her diaper like a pro. I had yet to do one myself, in fact. Then he’d gently hand her to me after grabbing the nursing pillow and I’d do the feeding, of course, since he lacked the proper equipment.
It was two in the morning on day 3 and later that day I’d, hopefully, be discharged. Adam had just propped the baby onto my nursing pillow and settled back down on his temp bed. Though he clearly looked as exhausted as I felt, he merely propped his head onto his hand and watched us while she nursed. I almost drifted off, mid-nursing, myself, but when I shook myself awake, I found him gazing at us, a tired smile on his lips.
“Go to sleep.” I told him. “I can put her back in the bassinet when she’s done.”
He shook his head. “Nope. It’s my job and I take it seriously. Besides, I like to watch you two together. You’re so beautiful and such a good mom.”
I arched a brow at him. “It’s way too early to tell. I’ve only been a mom for three days.”
He shrugged. “I can already tell and I’m an excellent judge.”
“And totally unbiased, too.” I grinned.
“Yes, of course. It is my completely impartial opinion that I’m in the room with the two most beautiful ladies in the world.”
I knew I may not remember long stretches of this new time with just the three of us alone together as a brand new, tiny family. But I was completely and fully aware, even in this present moment, that I’d cherish every second of what I would hopefully remember with fondness someday.
But for now, it was no crime to wish for more sleep.
When it came time to leave the hospital. Adam hired a driver in a completely sanitized SUV to take us home so that we could all sit together in the back. I was surprised until I saw the phone in Adam’s hand taking all manner of photos and video of the occasion. Baby’s first car ride. Baby’s first car seat. Baby’s first burp in the car. Baby’s first nap in the car. Followed quickly by Mommy’s first nap as well. I have no doubt that he snapped pics of me slumped against the car window, blissfully unconscious.
When I stirred, it was because we’d exited the freeway, and the lull of the road was no longer hypnotizing me. But I was disoriented. I had no idea why I was looking at rolling hills and the approaching ridge of the Santa Ana Mountains instead of the flat stretch of the bluffs leading down toward the coast and our home.
*click*
Adam’s phone was in my face, snapping another photo. I grimaced at him. “What’s going on? Does this guy even know where we live?”
“Yep.”
“Then why are we out here headed to the—oh, are we going to the new house? Are you signing off on something?” The renovation wasn’t scheduled to be finished for another month. We’d be moving in soon after.
“Yeah, I have to sign off on some of the work on the house. I hope you don’t mind the detour.”
“If she stays asleep the whole time, I’m totally fine with it. Might do me some good to walk around a bit.”
“Are you still in pain?” he asked.
I shrugged. “The incision is sore, but it’s fine.” It was more than a little sore, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I’d be dealing with pain for at least a week or two. But beyond that was the sheer fatigue of my body spending ninety percent of its energy on either manufacturing breast milk or healing from the surgery.
I didn’t say so, but I was longing for a long nap in my own bed. Oh well. At this time of day, this detour, if it went fast, wouldn’t be much longer than forty-five minutes.
After a short drive through the canyon, we pulled into the long driveway that wound up toward our new house. The first thing I noticed was the lack of trucks. Maybe the workers had taken the day off. But why request that Adam sign paperwork today when they weren’t even working on site?
When the car came to a stop, however, Adam reached into his pocket and produced a key. He handed it to me. “Welcome home.”
I blinked, still a little slow on the uptake—I blamed the pain meds for that. “I don’t...”
Adam reached for the car seat and unlatched it, taking hold of it by the handle. He nodded to my car door. “Go have a look. I’ve got her.”
I got out of the car and left them behind while I made my way up the front walk toward the door. There were young trees and decorative potted plants out front—the landscaping was new and in that fresh stage that looked a little bare but promised to become utterly stunning in the next year or so. I blinked. So, they’d finished the outside early, but what did that mean for the inside?
I opened the front door and pushed it wide with a gasp. The work on the house had been completely finished—right down to the warm eggshell shade of paint on the walls that I’d selected months ago.
The house was exquisitely furnished—but not with furniture that I recognized. It was like someone else lived here in the same California ranch style and color scheme—terracotta, sage green, soft marigold—that I’d chosen.
The hardwood floors had been completely refinished and the carpeted rooms had new wall-to-wall carpet. I’d been corresponding with the designer here and there when I could and had answered all her questions but had never dreamed she’d take what I’d given her, the color schemes I’d selected and created a gorgeous, elegant but cozy home.
“This is staged.” Adam explained when he caught up with me. “We can buy the furniture and décor as it is, or our designer will make any adjustments and changes we want. But I wasn’t going to bog you down in details with all you had going on.”
I blinked, shaking my head. “It’s incredible. She really captured our style but also the feel of the canyon and the nature surrounding us here. I’m floored.”
He grinned, quite satisfied with himself. “And this way, we didn’t have to move our old furniture over, so I could set up the whole thing without you even suspecting.”
I threw him side-eye. “You like doing that way too much.”
The baby stirred and Adam lowered the car-seat onto the couch, unbuckled her and gently lifted her out. “I’ll get her settled again. She’s not due for a feeding for at least an hour and ten minutes.”
I bit my lip, reminding myself not to be surprised that he’d already set up a schedule in his head for the baby. He was even making notes about when she pooped and how often she wet her diaper—to stay on top of any danger of dehydration, of course.
I moved into the kitchen—perfect, large, and with every brand-new appliance I could think of. Then down the hallway into the rest of the house—his office, mine, a den. No fancy theater room yet but that was what he called “Phase Two” of the remodel—a nearby outbuilding for the fun stuff and guest accommodations.
Adam caught up with me about two minutes after I’d crossed the threshold into the nursery. I turned to him, wide-eyed with wonder. “I was stressing out because ours wasn’t done and she was coming home to a generic room instead of her pretty storybook-themed room I wanted so badly. But here it is...like magic.”
He grinned. “Some have suspected me of being a secret wizard, it’s true. Remember a few months ago, I was asking you some weird questions? They were from a secret questionnaire our decorator had sent me.
All of my childhood favorites were represented: Chronicles of Narnia, Winnie the Pooh,Anne of Green Gables. And his—The Hobbit. Charlotte’s Web. The Secret Garden. Not only did the lovely little freestanding bookshelves on the wall house special leather-bound embossed editions of these books, but the artwork featured special prints and quotes from the books in colors matching the décor of the nursery—dusty pink, beige, and bone.
Adam had Sabrina safely nestled in the crook of his arm. He followed my gaze around the room smiling. That’s when I noticed it. Spelled out on the wall in giant dusty-pink wooden letters, the baby’s name.
“How—how did you do that? We didn’t even know what we were going to name her when we went to the hospital.”
Adam gently laid the baby down in her gorgeous wooden crib swathed in bone-colored tulle. Apparently, she’d promptly fallen back asleep. Then he came over to me, wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me flush against him. “There’s this amazing invention called the telephone, if you recall. You tend to be very salty about my relationship with it.”
“Hmmm,” I said, my head falling back to rest on his shoulder. “Is this all the work of our magical decorator?”
“Indeed. She was very motivated to finish early, given the approaching holidays. And she used all your suggestions. Our other house is completely intact except for all our personal effects which were moved over while you were in the hospital. The old furniture is still in the house and any pieces you still want will be bought over. But we’re sleeping here tonight.”
I let out a long breath of relief. “You don’t know how glad I am that I don’t have to pack and unpack boxes.”
“No way. Not on top of everything else you’ve got going on—feeding a hungry baby 24/7 while recovering from major surgery.”
How on earth did I get so fucking lucky? I had no idea. “So why did you decide to rush the job and have us move in now?”
He was quiet for a moment, then he slowly shifted us both so that we were now looking at our sleeping daughter. “I wanted the princess to be brought directly to her shiny new castle. She deserves a room that is all ready to receive her.”
“It’s only been three days, but you’re one hell of an amazing dad. This little girl is very, very lucky. And so is her mama.”
Neither Adam nor I’d had the chance to know our fathers. But I was quite certain that I was right in my judgment, for every new thing that Adam took on, he did it with gusto, with his full heart and energy. And the pure love I could feel emanating from him whenever he looked at her... Well, this girl was going to grow up fully loved—and knowing it—every second of her precious life. Lucky, lucky girl.
“This is perfect.” I sighed. “This is home.”
He kissed me then, and we left the sleeping baby in the nursery. For the first little while, we were going to do co-sleeping but she could take naps in her special room. Adam led me into our new master suite, and I was stunned again. It was beautiful, decorated in a way to immediately make me peaceful and calmed, sage green and cream and full of greenery. The perfect sanctuary in which to decompress between long shifts as a medical resident.
But I didn’t have to worry about that until maternity leave ended in three months. Until Adam returned to work, we had time to bond together, just the three of us in a sanctuary all our own.
And start an exciting new life here, together.