in the sink and down the hall to the nursery.
“Please stop crying, Billy,” she murmured, even though he was wailing too loudly to hear. His hot cheek, sticky with tears, was pressed to hers. “I wish you could tell me how to help you.”
She’d tried every remedy in the book and then some. Nothing worked. Doubts were creeping in about her fitness as a mother. Was she wrong to work and study? Did he cry because he sensed her fatigue and it made him anxious? Was it something she was eating that got into her milk and upset his tummy? How much longer would this go on? Was it retribution for having a baby on her own?
Okay, that was crazy. When she was rational she knew she wasn’t being punished for choosing to keep her baby and raise him on her own. But in the wee hours, when she was dead on her feet and knowing she had to get up again at 6:00 a.m., her mind played funny tricks on her.
She started another lap of the apartment.
Yes, Holly had been a dream by comparison with Billy. And Emma had taken six months’ maternity leave with Holly. But this time, the hospital had reduced maternity pay due to funding cutbacks and Emma had needed to return to work early. Not only that but she had the added load of her studies. Which she loved. She wasn’t giving that up.
She felt like a bad mother, a bad person. Selfish for wanting to do it all, resentful of Billy for not being as easy as Holly and guilty for even thinking mean thoughts about him.
Billy was her responsibility, and no one else’s. That’s the way she wanted it. But she’d never expected it to be this hard. She’d sacrificed her marriage because she wanted another baby. Maybe she was being punished—
Her foot came down on a magazine on the floor and slipped out from underneath her. With a strangled cry she held Billy up, out of harm’s way and went down hard on her rear end. Stunned, she sat among the mess, the wind knocked out of her and pain shooting up her spine.
Billy was so startled he stopped crying. Emma broke into semihysterical laughter, and rocked back and forth, as much to distract herself from the pain as to comfort him. “Oh, Billy. Mummy’s going crazy.”
He made a gurgling sound. She eased the blanket away from his face and he gave her a gummy, toothless smile. His first smile. A milestone that ought to fill her with joy. It didn’t.
She felt no love gazing into his adorable face. Instead she had nothing but fatigue and anger and resentment for this creature who had turned her life upside down.
“Oh, Billy.” The tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s not you—it’s me. It’s because I’m so tired.”
His face crumpled and he let out a cry. Here we go again. Leaning against the wall amid the rubble, she opened her nightgown and put him onto her breast, wincing as he latched on.
More tears leaked from her eyes, not from the physical pain. On some deep level she knew she must love him but she didn’t feel it. She adored children. The best thing she’d ever done was be a mother to Holly. And now this. She didn’t understand it. She’d heard of other women not being able to bond with their children but never thought she would experience this...nothingness when she held her son.
She had to believe she would change. But when? Until then, she would care for him because she had to. And try to hide the fact that she was the worst mother ever. What would Darcy think if he knew? Oh, he said he didn’t want a child, but he would be horrified if he could see her now, dreading every minute she had to spend with her baby.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“DARCY, PHONE FOR YOU,” Kirsty called above the noise of the pub. She picked up a tray and headed off to deliver the drinks.
Darcy finished serving a customer and moved down the bar to pick up the landline. “Hello?”
“Your father’s going into the hospital for his operation.” His mother sounded breathless, as if she was in a hurry. “We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“When’s the surgery?”
“Tomorrow morning. He’s in Ward 5G North.”
Darcy glanced around the pub. Not too busy but then it rarely was on a Monday night. “I’ll try to get in later to see him. Thanks for letting me know.” He