21. Stephen
STEPHEN
Evie and the rest of the household had fallen into a rhythm.
At three months old, she was sleeping through the night which gave my mate and me six uninterrupted hours of blissful sleep.
“Who’s the best girl who’s such a good sleeper?”
Evie was in her bouncy chair while I prepared dinner.
My daughter gurgled, kicked her legs, and grinned.
I loved her adorable gummy smile, but I wished she’d laugh.
I’d read books and been on forums, and I was worried she’d never do it.
She might just grin throughout her life but never produce a proper belly laugh.
Posy popped under the table and crawled to Evie’s side. She made a funny face and the baby tugged her big sister’s hair. But there was no giggle, just more gums and a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.
Trying to get Evie to smile had become a competition, and Posy had made a chart, both on her tablet and on cardboard that she pasted on the pantry door. She’d recorded the grins, smiles, and the almost laughs, but so far, not the main event.
“Daddy’s home.” Posy ran to the kitchen entrance, threw herself into his arms, and he carried her inside.
They chatted about her day, and she told him she had to write a poem over the weekend.
“Did you win?” He looked at me over our older daughter’s shoulder.
“No.” She sighed. “I failed at getting Evie to laugh again.”
“You didn’t fail. She’s just not ready.” He tousled her hair. “Your little sister will do it when the time’s right.”
Posy harrumphed. “You think it’s going to be you.”
My mate gave her his trademark smirk. “No, we all have an equal chance of winning.”
Clyde kissed me and got on the floor beside Evie. He put his hands in front of his face and played peekaboo. “I see you,” followed by “Where’s Daddy? And "There you are.”
Evie waved a clenched fist, but instead of laughing, she stuck it in her mouth.
“Did you know those hands belong to you?” He kissed the top of her head. “Amazing, huh?”
Evie stared at him as if mesmerized, but her attention was diverted to Posy who waved a pink rabbit at her. She cooed, and Posy side-eyed her father.
“You didn’t get her to laugh, Daddy.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, my darling.” My mate took the rabbit, making it dance before bopping Evie’s nose with it. She grabbed it and stuffed the rabbit’s ear in her mouth.
“Evie, why did the chicken cross the road?” The baby was not taking any notice of him, and I rolled my eyes because she had no idea what he was talking about. But my mate would tell her a riddle every day in the hope that she’d laugh.
“You don’t know?” He blew a raspberry on her tummy, but instead of giggling, she tossed the rabbit on the floor. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Are you ready?” He made a funny face. “To get to the other side!”
Posy groaned, saying no one had ever laughed at that riddle ever. Clyde cleared his throat and told her he’d dig out the old videos of when she was a tiny tot.
“That’s the only way I’ll believe you, Daddy.” And she hugged him.
Evie hiccuped and the three of us chortled. She stared at each of us individually, probably wondering why a hiccup was so funny.
“You are one tough cookie, my little munchkin.” My mate gave her another kiss and got up. He held up his hands. “You win, but just today. Tomorrow I’m going to try again.”
“Not if I beat you.” I waved a spatula at him. I was working part-time for the next three months, so I spent more time with Evie than my mate and Posy. And I was still feeding her, though those were quiet times.
Posy took the toy Evie had thrown and danced with it around the table, humming a popular song. “Look at me, Evie.”
The baby glanced at her and held her sister’s gaze. I didn’t breathe, thinking Posy was going to win. She’d be so excited if she did and would tell the neighbors, her class, and call Gran and my folks and relay what happened in minute detail.
“I’m your big sister, Evie, and I’m funny.” She laughed, but the baby was inspecting her toes. “And babies love me.” Posy plonked herself on the floor beside Evie. “Why are your feet more interesting than me?”
I explained how Evie was in the process of discovering what was part of her, and Posy raised a brow.
“That’s so weird that she thinks her hands and feet aren’t attached to her body.”
“You were the same.” Clyde motioned for our older daughter to set the table. “All kids, whether human or shifter, eventually work out what is them and what’s the rest of the world.”
After dinner, while my mate helped Posy with her homework, I took Evie into the nursery. Here the make-Evie-laugh competition didn’t exist. There was my baby and me in the rocking chair while she fed. I stroked her reddish hair and thought about the little fox or wolf she’d become.
She’s a fox, for sure. Look at her hair. My beast was certain he knew, though the baby’s hair color didn’t convince me she was a fox shifter.
Evie nestled against me, her little cheek resting on my skin, and she grabbed my finger.
She stared up at me and my eyes swam with tears.
Not because I was sad but I’d brought this little bundle into the world, and my family and I were responsible for her.
I couldn’t put into words how much I adored her because love like that couldn’t be defined by uppercase letters and a full stop.
We were in the living room the next afternoon, and Evie was in her bouncy chair.
Posy was rehearsing the poem she’d written, and on Monday she had to stand in front of the class and recite it.
We gave her suggestions on how to make her presentation better, and she did it again.
We clapped at the end and told her she’d do great in class.
Evie was fascinated with her older sister as she spoke, but lost interest when my mate and I went back and forth with Posy.
Evie was playing with her rabbit, and Clyde and our older daughter started watching a TV program.
My eyes closed because even though I was getting plenty of sleep, working and looking after a baby took all of my energy.
The delicious warm feeling spread over my body that signaled I was close to sleep.
But my fox was wide awake, and I sensed that he was looking at Evie. He made that cute little chirr-chirr fox sound and someone chuckled. It wasn’t my mate or Posy, and my eyes snapped open. Clyde’s mouth was gaping, and Posy’s eyes were wide as she fell to the floor beside the baby.
“What?” I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Evie was cackling, waving her fists and kicking her feet.
“Evie’s laughing.” Posy was grinning. “You, me, and Daddy didn’t win, Papa. It was your fox.”
My first thought was for my older daughter. She didn’t appear upset, but I had to check. “Are you disappointed it wasn’t you, sweetheart?”
Posy shook her head. “No, this is much better, and now I think my little sister is a fox too.” She attempted to make the same foxy chirr-chirr, and Evie giggled harder. Posy bounded around the floor, not looking like a fox, but the baby loved it.
Clyde chirr-chirred too, and Posy told him he didn’t sound like a fox at all. But Evie thought it was hysterical, and her plump cheeks were bright pink. He joined Posy on the floor and they both pretended to be foxes.
“Come on, Papa. Show us how to be a fox.”
I crawled onto the floor and let my beast give his genuine chirr-chirr. My mate and Posy followed me as I made my way around the couch, and Evie’s laughter accompanied our shenanigans.
When we were done, we all flopped on the floor and kissed the baby. She quietened and her eyes began to close.
“Nap time.” I picked her up as Clyde and Posy blew her kisses and waved.
Taking her upstairs to the nursery, I lay her in the crib Hari had made and ran my fingers over the fox and wolf prints he’d etched into the wood. Though Evie was asleep, I could still hear her laughter in my head. I stroked her messy hair and thought about how lucky I was.
That night the landline rang had led to this moment. One was a ring that changed my life, and now that memory was joined by Evie’s laughter, Posy’s jokes, and Clyde’s kisses.