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“Oh?” I say, a little louder than I should.
I grimace while Rachel glances at the crib, a frown marring her face. She takes my hand, lacing her fingers with mine and pulls me toward the door. “Let’s talk downstairs,” she whispers. “We can’t have little Maria waking up Seth and Lucas so soon.”
“Has she been terrorizing them?” I ask while Rachel clicks the door closed.
She gives me a wide eyed, horrified look which makes me clench my jaw to keep from laughing.
“Oh, just you wait,” she whispers harshly while stalking past me. “It’s only been a few days, but as far as we can tell, she wants to be held twenty-four seven. I’m surprised she’s sleeping in her crib right now. Let’s pray she’s decided the crib is good enough for her sleeping schedule.”
I make a face while I follow Rachel down the stairs, that twinge of guilt kicking in again. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here to help. You guys must be exhausted.”
Rachel shrugs as she strides into the kitchen. “It hasn’t been that bad really. Charlie and Lauren have been here to help as well, and we all take turns with napping. Lucas was supposed to be on watch, but I guess he passed out.” Rachel chuckles and shakes her head. “He’s so paranoid about SIDS he demands someone be awake during nap times. I guess he finally decided staying up all night isn’t really possible.”
“SIDS?” I ask, feeling like an idiot. “What’s that?”
Rachel shakes her head. “Oh, no. We are not going down that rabbit hole again. The doctor reassured me that if we stick to healthy sleeping habits, then we should be fine. I’m not going to have another poor soul freaking out about something baby related.”
I chuckle while watching Rachel grab a couple mugs and start the coffee machine. She works effortlessly while she talks, looking both exhausted and radiant. God, how I have missed her. Her voice is so soothing. Just her presence takes my worries away. And now, she’s a mother. The role suits her. Somehow, she seems more calm, more all-knowing despite this being her first child.
“How was training?” Rachel asks while leaning against the counter while the coffee machine grinds the beans.
I shrug. “It was okay. Time went by slowly.”
“Was it at least fun?”
I nod my head. “Yeah, I met a bunch of other colleagues. Some of them are football fans.” I grimace as I recall Ron discussing the big game I blew at the end and all the questions about why I gave up the NFL. “That part wasn’t so much fun.”
“Did anyone ask why you left?”
I chuckle bitterly at that, my gaze dropping to the floor. “Oh, yes. Everyone had questions, but thankfully, when I told them I just wasn’t into it, the questions stopped. For the most part.”
Rachel nods while pouring coffee into the mugs. “That’s good.”
“I’m looking forward to teaching the kids,” I say cheerfully before taking a swig. “I don’t think it will go smoothly at all. I mean, we have plans for each day, but the trainers told us that those plans usually go out the door based on how the kids are feeling each day.”
“Really?” Rachel asks, her eyes wide and curious over the coffee cup.
“Yeah, so I pretty much have to have a plan B and C for each day.”
“Ugh. That sounds tough.”
I shrug. “Such is the life of a teacher.”
Rachel takes a sip of her coffee and groans, her eyes brightening, looking like she’s having the best orgasm of her life. “Oh, dear coffee,” she murmurs. “How I have missed you.”
“You haven’t had coffee yet?” I ask, shocked, thinking that would be the first thing she demanded for after giving birth.
“Oh, I have,” Rachel says with a vigorous nod, “but each sip is like tasting food from the gods.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You mean liquid. Coffee isn’t a food.”
“According to you,” Rachel says before taking another sip. “Depending on what I am drinking, a vanilla latte could be breakfast, a white chocolate mocha could be lunch, and a pumpkin spiced latte could be dinner.”
I gag and clutch my stomach. “I don’t think I could handle that much coffee. Besides,” I add while setting my mug down, “it isn’t healthy. Eventually you would have to have some real food.”
Rachel raises an eyebrow. “Like what? Pizza?”
“Perhaps,” I say while closing the distance between us, pressing my body into hers. “Or…you?”
