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“Incredibly happy and exhausted,” I breathe.
“I can imagine. Anyway, you just rest there and have a little snooze. We’ll keep an eye on the little one.”
“I’m all right, really, Mrs. Loughty. Besides, he’s probably going to be hungry soon.”
Dillan’s reappearance has thrown me for a loop, and I still haven’t recovered from it. Sensing my mood, Pippa steps in.
“I think we have this covered, Mrs. L,” she says, and I gently take the baby from her arms. “Lizzie and Isaac just need a little time to bond. That’s what the doctor said at least.”
“Oh, of course! How silly of me.” To her credit, Mrs. L can take a hint when she really wants to. She gets to her feet after patting me on the shoulder. “You just let me know if there’s anything you need. I’m going to do chicken for dinner. You want chicken? Of course you do. I’ll bring a plate over!”
Pippa closes and locks it behind her. “I love that woman,” she says. “She’s hilarious.”
“She’s a trip.”
Pippa takes over Mrs. L’s seat on the couch, busying herself arranging the gifted flower arrangements. “How are you doing, babes?”
I curl into the couch, clutching Isaac to my chest. “I honestly don’t know, Pippa. There are so many emotions rushing through me that I can’t even focus.”
“I don’t blame you. It’s been a wild ride these past two days, complete with drama, twists, loose ends dangling…and a truth waiting in the wings.”
We fall into silence.
I stare at Isaac while Pippa stares at me. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I don’t know what I feel. I’m happy, terrified, exhausted, excited, and numerous other emotions that I can’t identify. Overwhelmed is likely the best description.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?”
Pippa’s question is expected but not one I’m eager to talk about. I don’t answer right away, busying myself with taking Isaac’s little coat and hat off, making him comfortable. Pippa takes my silence as an answer. She doesn’t push or ask anything else, only puts her arm around me and gives me a hug.
“Get some rest. He’s calm right now, so you should get some sleep while you can.”
“No arguments here.”
Pippa helps me to my feet so I can shuffle to my bedroom. Fresh sheets have been put on the bed, and it’s all turned down, ready for me to climb in. I tuck Isaac into the cradle Alexis and Lori had given me, making sure he’s all cozy before I practically face-plant into bed. It’s a lot softer than I remembered, and when I turn to give Pippa a questioning look, she smiles.
“I managed to snag a mattress topper for you as a surprise,” she says. “I figured it would help with the lumpiness a little.”
“Aww, Pippa, you’re heaven-sent!”
“Well, this angel accepts payments in chocolate and foot massages, just so you know.”
I chuckle sleepily. She draws the comforter up and over me and places a kiss on my forehead.
“Rest well. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
“Left cupboard, kitchen. Behind the baking powder. Consider my chocolate stash yours.”
Pippa plants another smooch on my forehead. “Catch me in the kitchen if you need me. Saving you a piece, I promise. Sweet dreams!”
I lie there for some time, staring at the cradle that holds my newborn son and listening to the sounds of my neighbors. Usually, it gives me comfort. And yet, lying there, I can’t help but shake this feeling of worry. Because, when push comes to shove, the responsibility of raising Isaac rests solely on my shoulders, regardless of how sweet and helpful others may be. As much care and support as I’ve got in my life, I’ve got to make the decisions, and I’ve got to raise him.
Collecting all my mental strength, I purposefully close my eyes, mute any angel-devil talk, and snuggle under the comforter for a much-needed nap before my son wakes again.
It’s not like dancing and hearing no rhythm.
It’s more about finding your steps as you go along.
22
