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And what if she and Isa had been hit by a car during their walk? People in LA, especially during rush hour morning traffic, are insane drivers. I push that frightening thought away and ask where they went.
“Oh, we just took a short walk down the hill to Sunset and back up. It’s good for the baby to get a little fresh air every day.”
“Even one who’s less than a week old?”
“Totally.”
My shoulders sag. “It’ll be a while before I can do that.” The truth is I can still barely manage getting up and down from the toilet. Even walking through our one-level, open-plan house is an effort, although today I feel stronger, maybe because I’m well rested.
Nurse Marley wheels the stroller past me in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m going to make Isa a bottle.”
I follow her, walking alongside her, and keep my gaze on my sleeping baby. Cocooned in her pink cashmere blanket, I can’t help but marvel at what a little beauty she is with her button nose, cupid-bow lips, and rosy cheeks.
“How was she during the night?”
“She was wonderful. Took to her crib like a trooper. She got up every three hours for a feeding and I changed her diaper a few times. I think the formula is really helping.”
“I’m so pleased to hear that.” To my amazement, Nurse Marley looks well rested. Aglow. “Did you manage to get some sleep?”
She shrugs off her sweater and folds it over the stroller handle. “I actually got in a few hours of sleep. Mia woke up at six and I fed her.”
Mia?
With a laugh, she quickly corrects herself. “I mean Isa. Mia was the name of my last charge. I’ve taken care of so many babies I sometimes confuse their names.”
“No apology needed. I can’t remember my own name lately.”
“The stress and demands of new motherhood can do that to you.” With a swan-like movement of her neck, she checks on Isa, who’s stirring in her stroller. “She’ll likely wake up shortly and be hungry again.”
Nurse Marley seems one step ahead of my baby’s needs. I, in contrast, seem several steps behind. Make that a long city block behind.
She deposits the stroller by the kitchen island and waltzes over to one of the cabinets where we store pots and pans. Bending, she opens it and pulls out the missing bottle sterilizer as well as the warmer. She places them on the counter where they were before…next to the Nespresso machine.
From where I’m standing, I eye the note she left me by the sleek coffee maker. “Why didn’t you leave those things where they were?”
“Your husband asked me to put them away when I wasn’t using them. He told me he thinks they’re ugly and take up too much space.”
Ned, the minimalist. The perfectionist. Everything in its place. My mind jumps ahead nine months. What are we going to do when Isa starts to crawl and grows active? Where are we going to put all those things his clients and employees sent us—that are now, to Ned’s dismay, taking up so much space in my garage as well as one of his. The one he needs for the Aston Martin he has on hold. We don’t have a playroom or a basement. The latter I’m glad about because for some reason dark basements freak me out. They always have. In the past, I’ve avoided taking on projects that required me to transform one into a functional space.
There’s one possibility—the billiards room behind the stone fireplace—but that’s going nowhere. And my husband would sooner transform the two-car garage where I park my car into a home theater than a play space for Isa.
The bottom line: Ned’s going to hate having his sleek living room littered with bright-colored playpens, activity mats, push toys, and more. Maybe it’ll be an incentive for him to let me look for another more family-friendly home. Like the one he grew up in.
Marley retrieves a prepared bottle of formula from the fridge, then puts it into the warmer and sets the timer. She turns to me. “Hey, I’m going to make some coffee. Want some?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“How do you like it?”
“With almond milk, but I’m afraid there’s none in the fridge. So, I guess I’ll drink it black.”
“I usually start my day with a fresh fruit smoothie, but guess I’ll settle for some coffee too. I’ll be sure to pick up some of that milk later today along with some much-needed healthy stuff. It’s essential for your recovery to eat things that are rich in vitamins, minerals, and antitoxins.”
Lowering myself onto one of the island stools, I give a weak but grateful smile. “That would be awesome. Thanks.”
Everything comes together at once and Marley manages to bring Isa’s heated bottle along with two mugs of coffee to the kitchen island. As she sets them down on the granite counter, Isa awakens and screams at the top of her lungs.
The stroller beside me, my first instinct is to take her into my arms. But already standing, Marley beats me to it.
