Taboo Boss - Natasha L. Black Page 0,94
said without missing a beat. We all laughed again, and I shook my head.
“No, I was going to ask if you could get everyone to meet up in the conference room. No use in letting this hang above everyone and no one getting any work done. Might as well address the elephant in the room.” I said.
“Sure, absolutely. But my offer still stands. I can help teach him the wise and noble ways of men named Landon,” he said.
“Who said it was going to be a boy?” Amanda said.
“The wise and noble ways of anyone named Landon,” he corrected.
“We will think about it,” Amanda said, “but I think we already have a couple names picked out.”
“I will settle for being a godparent,” Landon said. “Or at least a cool person you call ‘Uncle Landon’ despite no familial relations. But that’s as far as I’m willing to go.”
“Deal,” I said, offering my hand. He shook it vigorously.
“Seriously, congratulations, you two. I’ll see you out there,” Landon said and left.
We had a few minutes alone, and Amanda’s smile slowly faded. She looked to the door apprehensively, and I looked up from the laptop where I was firing off an email.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m just worried,” she said.
I closed the laptop and moved over to her. “Don’t be. Remember, no matter what, I’m always going to be by your side.”
She smiled and nodded her head. I dipped mine in for a kiss and pressed it to her lips.
“Always,” she said.
“Always,” I repeated.
Epilogue
Amanda
I felt like I was getting into the groove of motherhood. There was plenty more to come, I knew. A lot of challenges weren’t even on my radar yet, but I would deal with them when they showed up. For now, I decided to think of being able to juggle Rosie sleeping in her car seat and the diaper bag and unlock the door without waking her up as a victory.
My maneuver for getting inside the house involved pushing the door open a couple of inches, catching it with my foot, pushing it open with a bit of a kick, and moving inside either sideways or backward so the baby didn’t go inside first. It wasn’t the smoothest or most attractive of movements, but it worked.
The grin on my face was still lingering from my doctor’s appointment. The six-week postpartum checkup had been written on my calendar since the day Rosie was born. I couldn’t believe it had been that long, and at the same time it felt like the day took forever to come.
Setting the car seat down on the sofa, I carefully slipped the baby out of her harness and cradled her close to my chest, resting a kiss to the top of her head. It was chilly outside, so she wore a little pink hat to go with her pink rose-themed romper. Maybe it was a bit predictable, but I couldn’t help myself when it came to putting her in rose-colored or themed clothes and accessories.
I had a feeling that was going to be a thing for the rest of her life. Or at least until she was a teenager and decided to rebel by rejecting anything pink or floral. But if that happened, at least I had a good fourteen or fifteen years ahead of me where I could get in my fill.
Holding Rosie in one arm, I took out my phone and called Ava.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Great,” I said. “I was nervous about it, but the doctor said everything looks good, and I’m getting back to normal. I still have some weight to lose, but the breastfeeding is helping.”
“Don’t worry about that. It will happen. You already look great. And how’s Rosie? Did the doctor look at her?”
“Yep. Just a quick checkup, but she’s great. She’s gaining weight well, and she’s really happy with how she’s responding to the world around her. It’s hard to believe she’s already six weeks old, but she has so much of a little personality now. She’s her own little person. It’s amazing,” I said, looking down at her.
She was starting to stir a bit, and I sat down on the couch to open my nursing bra and feed her. It was right around the time when she should be having a feeding and getting down for a good afternoon nap. I didn’t want to wake her up too much and have her not be able to settle down again.
I decided from the beginning I wasn’t going to be one