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“It’s inspired by a true crime story…” Her voice trails off.
She doesn’t seem to want to give details, so I don’t press her. “That sounds fascinating. If you ever want a sounding board, let me know. I love thrillers and sometimes I read scripts for Ned.”
“I’ll take you up on your offer.” She peers into the crib and checks on Isa. “She looks perfectly contented. I’m going to go back to the living room and grab my duffel. I’ll be right back.”
She returns quickly and sets the big black bag on the floor. I watch as she once again unzips it and retrieves a few things. The baby monitor. A couple of tiny diapers along with some baby wipes.
“I have more diapers if you need them.”
“These should do for tonight. I’m not going to change her until she wakes up…which will likely be when she wants another feeding. Over the next few weeks, I’m going to monitor her feeding and napping patterns so that I can work with you to put her on a schedule.”
“A schedule?”
“Yes. It’s important. Babies need designated times when to eat, nap, go for a walk, bathe, and go down for the night. Routines are very important for their well-being and development.”
I’m wowed again. Nurse Marley really has a handle on child development. She’s more than a caregiver. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat or drink?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. If I get hungry or thirsty, I know where the kitchen is. And of course, I’ll take the portable monitor with me.”
She settles into the rocker and tries it out. A smile appears. “I like it. It’s very comfortable.” Silently, she continues to rock back and forth, pumping it with the soles of her shoes.
And suddenly, I feel like three’s a crowd. That I don’t belong in my own baby’s room.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” My voice sounds forlorn. Maybe I just need to get used to having someone taking care of my baby.
Still smiling, Nurse Marley looks up at me. “I suggest you take a couple of Advil, get a good night’s rest, and sleep as late as you can. You’re going to need all the strength you have in the weeks to come.”
I head toward the door. “Do you want me to turn out the lights?”
“No need. I’ll do it later and keep the night-light on.”
My eyes flit to the sweet ballerina light while she slides out her iPad from the duffel.
“Goodnight, Ava. See you in the morning.”
“Goodnight.” I will myself to leave, and as I do, Nurse Marley calls out to me.
“And, hon, please don’t worry. Your baby is safe with me. I’m going to take care of her like she’s my own.”
SEVEN
NED
“How’s the new father doing?” asks Gabriel Lucas. Gabe for short, both my best friend and my partner at IMAGE. Buddies since college, we co-founded the agency together, fed up with the slow-to-embrace importance of social media and influencers at the big agency we worked at previously.
He pats me on the back as we wait for an elevator. Being on the thirtieth floor of a Century City office building comes with its perks, but with a price. One of the perks is the spectacular view of all of LA from my corner office with its wraparound floor-to-ceiling windows. The price I have to pay is waiting for an elevator at 6p.m., when there’s a mass exodus from the building. That’s why I usually don’t leave my office until seven. Patience is definitely not one of my virtues. Tapping a foot, I keep my eyes glued on the bank of elevators.
“Well…?” Gabe nudges.
“Hanging in there,” I tell him. Understatement of the century.
“Can I be honest with you, bro? You look like hell.”
“That bad?”
“No. Worse.”
Nothing like brutal honesty. “Yeah. It’s been rough. I’ve hardly gotten an ounce of sleep since I got home from Cannes on Sunday. Ava’s still pretty weak from the C-section and that damn pelvic thing she has…and she can barely get herself out of bed. So I’m the one who’s had to get up all night long to help her feed the baby. I swear the kid doesn’t stop crying. And guess who’s in charge of changing her diapers?”
