37. Lydia
37
LYDIA
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up it was still dark out, and there was a tiny little baby next to me. He was awake and his eyes were wide open. I don’t know if he could see anything yet, but that tiny little face peered out into the world. His little mouth moved as if he were experimenting with the new muscles in his face.
“Hi, baby,” I said quietly. “Where’s your daddy?”
Miles wasn’t anywhere. He wasn’t in bed, and he wasn’t sitting in the side chair.
I carefully and slowly climbed out of bed before picking the baby up. “What are we going to name you, little man?” I asked. I ran through our short list of names—Chris, Yul, Noel. They all felt a little bit foreign to my tongue.
I had publicly announced I didn’t care if I had a boy or a girl, and I wasn’t disappointed. I had a beautiful baby. But I had a list of girl names ready to go. I certainly hadn’t thought of what I would name a baby born on Christmas or Christmas Eve. Maybe giving him a seasonal name wasn’t the smart move. But I did like the sound of those names, Chris, Yul, Noel. One of them would stick.
My stomach gurgled.
“Let’s go see if we can find something to eat,” I said as I carefully picked him up.
His food was easy enough, at least so far as we hadn’t run into any latching problems. It would take some time to get used to it for both of us, but so far, he was a pro at breastfeeding. My food, however, was in the kitchen on the other side of the inn.
I was stunned. I let out a little gasp when I stepped into the lobby. Opposite the fireplace, between two of the sitting chairs, a modest sized Christmas tree had been put up. The decorations weren’t anything fancy. They reminded me of the handmade ornaments and garlands that we had prepared for our little festival that never happened.
A Christmas tree. The lobby had been slightly rearranged to accommodate it. I looked down at the bundle in my arms.
“It’s our own little Christmas miracle,” I said to the baby.
Instead of making my way into the kitchen as planned, I headed over to the coffee setup. I stood there staring at the coffee maker. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t working because we didn’t have any power. It was just as well. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to carry the baby and a hot cup of coffee at the same time, something I knew I shouldn’t even think about doing. With a shrug, I grabbed one of the Danishes and ripped open the package so that I could at least have something to eat.
I carried my newborn son over to the couch and curled up in the corner so that I could hold him comfortably and gaze at the tiny little tree. It wasn’t a real tree. I had several artificial ones in storage in the basement. The thought of Miles venturing down there in the dark made my heart swell. He was here and he was going to take care of us.
I really hoped that I could trust him this time because I wanted nothing more.
I sat staring at the tree and eventually, the sky out beyond the large front window began to lighten. It was a while after that before Miles came downstairs.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Did you do this?” I nodded toward the tree.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find any ornaments.”
“You must have been up all night making the decorations.”
“I was. It’s a good thing you like sticky notes and have them in different colors. Those made the paper chains go together easily,” Miles said. “When I was little, we would make paper chains. Sometimes, we would even have popcorn and cranberry garlands. I thought about it, but I didn’t know how I was going to make popcorn, and I have no clue where to find a needle and thread in this place, or if you even have any. I did see some strings of lights downstairs, but with no way of testing them, it seemed pointless.”
“I don’t think the lights matter,” I said. “It’s not like we have power. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do,” he said. “After what you went through yesterday, I wanted to make today special for you. It didn’t seem right that for our baby’s first Christmas, he wouldn’t have a tree.”
“I wasn’t feeling very Christmassy,” I admitted.
“I’m afraid that’s probably my fault,” he said.
“I don’t have a present for you,” I admitted. “I don’t have any presents for him. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another two weeks.”
“I’m pretty sure this year, he’s the present. May I?” Miles reached out for the baby.
I hope he didn’t notice that I hesitated. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him with our son. I simply loved holding the baby. He was so soft and warm and precious looking. I didn’t want to put him down.
“Have you settled on a name yet?”
“Not yet. I keep trying the names out, Chris, Yul, Noel.” I repeated the names yet again just to hear the sound of them.
“Chris Carlisle,” Miles said. “I don’t know. It sounds kind of rhymey.”
“That’s alliteration. Rhyming is when the end of the words sound alike. And, um, Carlisle? Really? What about the paternity test? Aren’t you going to make me wait until that happens?”
Miles shook his head. “That doesn’t need to happen. I was a fool to have ever considered it. I’m sorry about that, Lydia. I’m sorry I caused you pain.”
I put my fingers over his lips. “Carlisle is a nice last name, thank you. What do you think of Yul Carlisle?”
He shrugged.
“Noel Carlisle?”
“Noel Carlisle,” he repeated. “Sounds rather distinguished.”
“Did Evie come back last night?”
“No, but the phone lines started working again, and she managed to call. She did say she would try to come over this morning as long as the storm has settled down,” he told me.
“Where did you sleep? You weren’t in my room.”
“I took a room upstairs. I didn’t want to presume I would be welcome.”
“I guess that’s more of that conversation we need to keep having,” I said with a heavy sigh.
“Lydia.” He looked down at me. “We can keep having that conversation as long as you need.”
His entire body swayed gently as he held the baby, as if some natural instinct told him that the constant motion would soothe his son. “I will never stop apologizing for my part of the past few months.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in my throat. I wasn’t sure what I needed to say to him. Did I tell him that I was madly in love with him and that his being back in time for the birth of our son was almost as good of a present as our son himself? Did I tell him I thought he was a rat bastard for how he had treated me?
“Can we just go forward from here?” I asked. “There’s a lot to process, and it will take me time. I’m glad you’re here. I want you here, and I want to just go forward.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” Miles said.
Suddenly, I was very tired, and I yawned.
“I think I’m ready for my first nap of Christmas Day,” I announced.
I climbed off the couch and headed back toward my bedroom. Miles walked with me, carrying the baby.
“You’ve already been up for a while, haven’t you?” he asked.
“I woke up and the little guy was looking around.”
“You must have heard him subconsciously. You take all the naps you need. I’ll be here,” he said.
I climbed into bed and adjusted my pillows. Miles held the baby until I reached out my arms for him.
“Would you mind staying with us for a bit?” I asked.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Of course, I’ll stay with you,” he said.
When I woke up a little while later, the baby was missing. I started awake and scampered from the bed, running out to the lobby. I found Miles gently walking with the baby, back and forth.
I let out the breath I had been holding in my immediate panic.
“Oh, you’re awake. He was fussy, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Miles said.
“I slept through his being fussy?” I asked, panic still surging through my body. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet and I was already failing as a mother. I should have woken up as soon as the baby began making noises.
“Not exactly. The baby was restless. I picked him up before he could disturb you. It’s been less than five minutes. It appears that your natural motherly instincts have kicked in and you knew something was up with the baby,” he said.
Miles didn’t protest as I took our son from him. I held the baby close, terrified to take my eyes from him as if he would vanish on me again.