everything,” Raff repeats.
“I mean, look at that face!” I gush, wishing I could pull the sleeping baby from the carrier and hold her in my arms.
“Trust me, I have been, which is the only reason I’ve been holding my tongue.”
When she starts to fuss in her sleep, Nate’s eyes grow comically large. “Think we should take her out?”
“She’s still sleeping, but maybe we can get her more comfortable.” He sets the seat on one of the blue velvet chairs.
After Nathaniel and I attempt to figure out how to unbuckle the restraints, Raff chuckles.
I look up at his smiling face. “I’d be thankful and grateful for some assistance.”
Within seconds, he has her sprung from her seat and holding her like a pro, for so many reasons, my stomach twists.
“Called in the mom squad to gather gear,” Jenny whispers to me. “She’ll need it.”
“The mom squad?”
She winks. “Think of it as a redneck baby shower. Moms save everything for years, which is insane. I mean, who would want more of those little critters?”
I look back at her. “Thanks, Jenny.”
“You’re welcome. By the way, when Bobby brings the crib and changing table, just remember I forgot it was still in the attic.”
I can’t help but laugh, and she rolls her eyes.
“Girl, quit judging me. Turn back around and look at your man. I swear to God, my ovaries just exploded.”
When I look back, Grace’s hands are on his face, and she’s cooing.
Raff catches her finger in his mouth and mumbles, “We’ve only just met little Grace. Watch where those fingers go.”
She coos again, blinking her bright blue eyes.
“Odd, right? We look exactly alike, yet we couldn’t be more different.”
She squeals, and he laughs. “Leave it to Arthur to bring a baby as a buffer. Don’t tell him this, Grace, but I’m fairly certain it worked.”
I wrap my arms around my middle and whisper to Jenny, “Definitely an explosion.”
Rule Number Twenty-Nine
Stay Nourished Physically and mentally
Raff
The past few weeks have been a bit hectic, which is as grossly understated as the term ‘Houston, we have a problem.’ And yet, we’ve survived.
We lived through the first week because Thankful and Grateful were a constant whisper in my ear, as well as the actual words being displayed on the new rustic artwork popping up around the flat and the bar.
Mum and Dad didn’t spend all that much time with us, but Arthur was here all the time. A couple of nights ago, at the tree lighting in the town square, when I went to get Nikki and Nathaniel cocoa, he followed me. It was the first time he and I were alone.
He apologized profusely and said he didn’t know how to handle death, and until Grace, he didn’t know how much I probably needed him.
Yet another understatement.
It pissed me off enough to finally ask him why none of them had told me about Grace. He told me that he didn’t know until he was asked to sign legal paperwork to put her up for adoption that she was his. Grace’s mother never told him she was pregnant; she was a one-night stand. Against our parents’ wishes, he chose to keep Grace and had been in a legal battle for six months to get Grace’s mother—who didn’t want her to begin with until she realized she would gain financially—had finally agreed to a settlement and signed legal documents to relinquish custody.
I wasn’t sure that was suffice of a reason, nor if I’d ever be able to forgive him totally, but as we stood around the tree, and the carolers began to sing ‘What Child Is This,’ Nikki nodded to him slightly, and I watched as he looked at Grace Graham, with love, but I also saw fear and worry in his eyes. I remember feeling like that when Hope died, I was terrified that I wouldn’t be the father Nathaniel deserved.
I looked back down at Nikki, concern etched her beautiful features, and I felt the wordless exchange between us, her asking me to forgive and me telling her that I would.
The next night my parents, Arthur, Nikki, Nathaniel, and I cut our tree and decorated it with Christmas music playing through the surround sound, eggnog, and Christmas cookies covering the counter. It was without question the first time my parents, Arthur, and I had ever done anything of the sort. And it felt… good.
Our home is indeed a winter wonderland, and every night I come home to additional baby gear littering the flat.
Tonight, Nikki is standing on her