Surprise Baby for Christmas

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Surprise Baby for Christmas Page 13

by Harmony Knight


  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” asks Dave.

  “Pippa would still like us all to have Christmas together,” I tell him, and look around at Lexi and Valerie, who are nodding. “The nurse says they can both come home in the morning.”

  “I’ve called in a few favors,” Lexi says. “Baby things and some bottles and formula, just in case. They’ll be delivered tomorrow.”

  That’s a huge relief. The prospect of having nothing at home for the baby had started to weigh on my mind.

  “You’re a champion, sis,” I tell Lexi.

  “Can I hold her?” asks Val, and Lexi hands the baby over.

  “I’ll go home tonight,” says Val, looking down at my daughter’s peaceful, chubby little face. “Get Pip some clothes and toiletries.”

  “We can drop you on the way,” says Dave. “And I can pick you up tomorrow, on the way back from getting Pippa and Aiden. And… her,” he says, nodding to the baby. “I have snow tyres,” he adds, proudly, and it’s Lexi’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “That would be great. Thanks, Dave. You want to hold her?” Val asks, holding the baby out toward him.

  “Nope!” says Dave, emphatically, both hands in the air. “No, thank you. I try not to hold anything too valuable or too fragile, and this is both.” I smile at him, understanding his reluctance. He was the same when his sister’s kids were born, but he’s the most amazing uncle. Just needs them to grow a bit, first.

  “Right,” says Lexi, taking charge. “We’ll get moving. You look exhausted. Get some rest.”

  I promise that I will, and I mean it. I’m wiped out. Val gently places my daughter back into my arms, and we arrange a time for Dave to pick us up in the morning. I give side-hugs to all of them, careful to keep my precious little load out of the way. They all congratulate me and head out, Dave dragging along the huge teddy behind him.

  “Okay, little one,” I whisper, when it’s just me and my little girl left. “Let’s get some rest.”

  By the time I get back to the ward, a nurse has laid out a fold-out bed for me, beside Pippa’s. I lay the baby down in her clear plastic crib and just stand there for a while, watching both my girls sleeping peacefully. It strikes me, as I glance up and notice the unlit strip light above my head, that I feel more content than I’ve ever felt in my life. In a hospital, of all places. I’m exhausted, but I’m brimming with hope and love and happiness, and all because I agreed to be one wonderful, beautiful, brilliant girl’s vacation fling.

  Pippa

  Christmas Day, 2018

  The baby is latched onto my left breast, suckling away, and Aiden and I are laughing and chatting about names while we wait for Dave to arrive. We’ve rejected at least two hundred already, some of them ridiculous and some that were at least somewhat appealing.

  I feel remarkably well, all things considered. I’m a little sore when I stand up or sit down, and a little tired, but otherwise, I feel fine. The shock and terror of yesterday is gone, replaced by a deep feeling of awe every time I gaze at my daughter, or catch Aiden staring at her with a wistful look in his eye. I don’t know what I would have done without him. Every time she woke up through the night, so did he—sitting with me, helping me, chatting to me as the baby quietly feeds.

  “What was your grandmother’s name?” Aiden asks, out of the blue. “The one who had the studio before you?”

  Even the mention of the studio I might be losing can’t bring me down today. I look up and smile at him, adoring him for even thinking about naming our child after my grandmother. He’s sitting on the chair looking a little crumpled in his day-old clothes, but still as gorgeous as ever.

  “Jessica,” I say, expecting him to dismiss the name out of hand.

  “Jessica,” he says thoughtfully, pursing his lips. He goes quiet.

  When I look down, the baby has fallen asleep. I pull my gown back up, adjust the swaddle, and settle back on the bed.

  “I like it,” Aiden says.

  “Really?” I ask, my brows lifting. It’s my turn to look thoughtful as I think about it seriously for the first time, gazing down at the tiny bundle in my arms.

  “Jessica,” I say again, feeling the syllables on my tongue. I think about my grandmother, about her kind eyes and her generous heart, and a little smile finds my lips. She’d revel in this story. Her little Pip having a baby like this, the big, dramatic proposal beside the hospital bed. She was a sucker for a bit of drama.

  “That’s the one, isn’t it?” he asks, leaning in. He places his hand on my back and gazes down at her with me. “Jessica.”

  I look to him, feeling a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes, and nod.

  “Hi, baby Jessica,” he whispers, with a broad grin.

  I lean over and kiss his temple, barely able to believe that this, all of this, is mine. The man, the baby, the future that seems to stretch out before us, full of possibility. The fact that all of this came to be on Christmas Day is just the cherry on top.

  “Ho, ho, ho!”

  Dave’s voice reaches the room a moment before he does. He practically bursts in, grinning from ear to ear and swinging a backpack from his shoulder.

  “Merry Christmas!”

  “Morning,” I say, smiling and shaking my head at his entrance.

  “How are mother and baby doing?” he asks. It’s so strange that I am “mother” in that phrase now.

  “Jessica,” Aiden says, on his feet. He claps Dave on the back. “Her name’s Jessica.”

  “Ahh, lovely,” says Dave. “Well, let’s get Ms. Pippa and Ms. Jessica home, shall we?” He places the bag down on the chair that Aiden just vacated.

  “Clothes. Some for you, from Val, and some for Jessica, from Lexi. There’s all sorts of boxes and crates being delivered this morning, so I don’t know what the hell your sister’s been up to,” he says, looking to Aiden, “but I suspect that baby Jessica will want for nothing the rest of her days.”

  Aiden rolls his eyes, of course, and I laugh. I hand Jessica off to her dad and excuse myself to go shower and change. I feel so refreshed when I’m done, I find it hard to believe that I gave birth not even twelve hours ago.

  The ride home is smooth and steady. I don’t know where Dave found a baby seat on such short notice, or how the hell Lexi is managing to get things delivered on Christmas Day, for that matter, but I have no complaints about it. Aiden sits in the back with us, and Jessica sleeps the whole way. She doesn’t even wake up when we stop to pick up Valerie, who steps into the car laden with bags and leans back between the front seats to give me a hug.

  “Merry Christmas, Pip,” she says, and proceeds to spend the rest of the journey staring at Jessica and giving me excited little smiles every time she stirs.

  Dave was not wrong about the extent of Lexi’s operation. When we walk in, she’s on her hands and knees with a screwdriver, putting together a baby rocker. There’s a mountain of diapers and formula tubs, a stroller, a bassinet, and a pile of wood and screws in the middle of the room that looks like it might eventually assemble into a crib.

  “Lexi,” I gasp, my eyes wide as I look around.

  “Oh, hey, guys!” she says, gliding gracefully to her feet. She shoves the screwdriver into Dave’s hand and comes over to hug me.

  “Merry Christmas!” she says, looking down at Jessica, and waves a hand, as though dismissing all the effort she’s obviously been to. “We ran a feature on a little mom-and-pop baby store last year that pushed them national. Lisa—that’s the owner, lovely woman—was more than happy to help out.”

  “Thank you so, so much, Lexi,” I say, breathlessly. I’d been worried about how we were going to get everything we’d need during the holiday period. The relief I feel at seeing everything all laid out is immeasurable.

  “Don’t mention it,” says Lexi. “Get yourself comfortable. Aiden and I are cooking later, but you rest as much as you need. Can I get you a drink? A snack?”

  “I’ll do that,” says Aiden. “Thanks, Lex.”r />
  Lexi turns to Dave, who’s still standing in the same spot, holding the screwdriver, and gives him a playful shove. Together, they go back to assembling the baby furniture, while Aiden goes to the kitchen to make us all some brunch, and Valerie comes with me—clearly angling for another chance to hold the baby. I oblige her, and take the opportunity to finally dig my phone, which I haven’t set eyes on since yesterday, out of my bag. It’s entirely dead.

  As soon as I connect the charger and switch it on, it starts going haywire, buzzing and beeping.

  “Ohhhh. Yeah,” says Val, looking sheepish. “Sorry, should have told you right away. Your mom called last night. She was worried because she couldn’t get through to you. I uh… told her about the baby. But I said everything was fine,” she adds, hurriedly.

  “I have one hundred and sixty-three missed calls,” I say, staring at the phone now that it’s finally settled down. “And twenty-seven voicemails. And,” I say, looking up to Val with an expression of amazement on my face, “five text messages.”

  “She texted?!” asks Val, looking as shocked as me.

  My mother is not a texter. She only has a smartphone because it came with her plan. If she could get a cell that looks and acts like a rotary dial, she definitely would.

  I’m still staring at the phone in disbelief when it starts vibrating and ringing, and I hurry to answer it before it wakes Jessica.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, waiting for the onslaught.

  “Oh, thank GOD!” she cries through the earpiece. “Phillippa, what on earth…” I cringe a little, my shoulder rising into it, but then her voice evens out and, a little breathlessly, she asks “Are you alright? What happened? Do you want me to come home?”

  I assure her that I’m fine. I tell her briefly about Aiden and about the baby, that I’m engaged, and that she has a granddaughter now. She sounds emotional about it all, but she loses it completely when I tell he we’ve named our daughter after her mother. I manage to convince her to enjoy the rest of her once-in-a-lifetime Christmas vacation to Italy, and tell her I’ll see her when they get back.

  My dad, who’s been getting all the details squawked at him across a hotel room, sounds much calmer when he comes on the line.

  “You’re alright, love?” he asks, in his usual placid, sensible tone.

  “Yes, Dad,” I tell him. I do wish they were here to meet Jessica, but they’ll be back in only a couple of weeks, and it’s probably for the best that they’re away. My mother’s fussing would probably drive me mad. At least this way, I have some time to settle and get used to being a mom, myself. Get used to being a part of my new little family.

  “Got everything you need?” Dad asks.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Alright. Well call us if there’s anything else you need. Give little Jessica a cuddle from me, and we’ll see you when we’re back. And I’ll meet this man of yours and see what he’s all about.”

  “Dad,” I say, and the roll of my eyes is in my voice.

  “Love you, kiddo,” he says, chuckling.

  “Love you, too,” I say, and hit the button to end the call.

  I spend the rest of the day switching between the master bedroom and the sitting room in Aiden’s huge, beautiful apartment. I nap when I need to and take breaks to feed Jessica, and enjoy everyone’s company. Despite how relatively little everyone knows each other, there’s a familiar warmth that makes me just know that everything is going to work out.

  Brunch is delicious, and so is dinner. Lexi keeps us all entertained with stories about celebrities and singers and their antics, Dave keeps us entertained with embarrassing tales from Aiden and Lexi’s childhoods, and Val, who has fit right into the group, makes us all roar with laughter by regaling us with her first impressions of Aiden as a slave-driving bore at work.

  “I was nervous!” Aiden protests, his arm draped around my shoulders, but Dave takes the opportunity to rib him, anyway.

  A couple of hours after dinner, while Jessica is snoozing away in the rocker and the others have decided to tackle the dishes, Lexi comes over and sits beside me.

  “Got a minute?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say. “She’s sound asleep, anyway.”

  “She’s adorable,” Lexi says, looking down to Jessica. “Best Christmas present I ever had.”

  I’m suddenly grinning, remembering the trouble Aiden was having, trying to find a suitably sentimental gift for Lexi. It doesn’t get much better than meeting your first niece on Christmas Day.

  “I just wanted to chat with you about your studio,” she says. The familiar niggle of worry creeps in, and I frown involuntarily.

  “There’s nothing I can do about it,” I say. “Aiden said—”

  “Legally,” Lexi interjects. “There’s nothing you can do about it legally. But I called Mr. Ling Jr. to speak to him about the feature we’re doing on you.” She has the humility to look a little embarrassed as she goes on. “Turns out, Mr. Ling Jr. has a semi-successful re-selling business, and that’s worth more to him than a one-time windfall from selling the studio, or a slightly higher rent.”

  “What are you getting at?” I ask her. I can feel myself leaning forward a little, afraid to believe where I think she’s going with this.

  “Well, he’s not too keen on being written into your article as the evil landlord threatening your creative space,” she says, giving me a meaningful look.

  I blink at her. For a moment, I feel bad for Mr. Ling Jr.—and then I remember that he was about to turf me out without a second thought. He didn’t even call me to let me know his father had died.

  “Oh, Lexi,” I say, leaning into her and giving her a joyous hug. “I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been so good to me.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she says, giving me a squeeze back. “We’re family.”

  We do play charades in the end, though the team of Lexi and Dave prove unbeatable. And when everyone is full of food and wine and cheer, and have said their good-nights, Aiden and I retire to bed together, for the first time since the cabin.

  Standing in the en suite beside him while we brush our teeth is the strangest and yet the most natural thing in the world. He looks at me and waggles his brows with white foam all around his mouth, and I laugh. Somehow, I manage to inhale a fleck of toothpaste, and the burning mint at the back of my throat makes me choke and cough, and spray toothpaste all over the huge mirror that extends right across the wall.

  When I look up at Aiden, he’s grinning broadly, watching me.

  “Go to bed, you shambles,” he laughs, wiping his mouth. He leans down and kisses me on the top of the head. “I’ll clean up.”

  Five minutes later, we’re in bed. Jessica is gurgling away peacefully in a sleeper beside us, and I’m laying beside Aiden, tucked into his side with my arm draped across his chest. His fingers smooth their way through my hair, rhythmically, in the darkness, and his broad chest rises and falls slowly.

  “Pip?” he says, sleepily.

  “Mmm?”

  “I love you.”

  I smile, even though he can’t see me. I’m warm and comfortable and content, full of hope and happiness. I run my forefinger over the band of the too-big engagement ring that’s found its home on my thumb.

  “I love you, too,” I say.

  “Both of you,” he says.

  “Same.”

  A few minutes later, his hand stills on my head and his breathing deepens as he falls asleep. I’m not quite tired enough yet, having napped through the day, so I lay there, awake, enjoying the warmth of his body and the combined rhythm of my fiance’s and my daughter’s breathing as they slumber.

  This is home, I realize. And I realize that, although I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time, I had that same feeling when I lay beside Aiden in the cabin all those months ago, in a different world, a different time, a different place. He is home.

  When I gaze at the window, I can see the little green light of the baby monitor reflected back at me,
dancing over the scene outside. It’s close to midnight, and the moon is out, an almost-perfect circle suspended high over the skyscrapers and rooftops below, its light glittering across the thick blanket of snow that covers them, pillowy and undisturbed.

  Epilogue

  Pippa

  Valentine’s Day, 2019

  “Oh, love,” says my mother, looking at me tearfully, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a little handkerchief. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

  She’s holding Jessica in her arms, rocking her back and forth as the baby sleeps, as oblivious as she’s been all morning to all the surrounding commotion. I smile at my mother and lean in to kiss her cheek, and when I pull back, she dabs at her eyes again before heading into the venue.

  I have to admit that I do feel good. It turns out that nine months of the Eat, Pray, Love lifestyle actually does do wonders for your body. You just don’t notice if you happen to be unwittingly pregnant at the same time.

  The A-line dress I’m wearing is made of ivory silk charmeuse and swishes around my ankles every time I take a step. It’s beautifully cut and fitted, thanks to a celebrity designer that Lexi knows, and it has intricate embroidery around the hem that matches the long, silk-lace sleeves.

  “Almost time, Poppet,” says my dad, arriving at my side, fiddling with the flower on his lapel. “Not too late to back out, you know.”

  This is typical humor from my dad, and I just roll my eyes at him as I bat his hand away and help him to straighten out the flower. He loved Aiden the moment he met him on New Year’s Day. I’m pretty sure he’d divorce my mother and marry Aiden just to get him in the family if I backed out now.

  “Two minutes!” says Lexi, excitedly, as she half-skips out of the hall, giving an excited little clap. She is drop-dead gorgeous in the deep burgundy gown she’s wearing, with her blond hair swept up on her head. Valerie is hot on her heels, looking just as stunning in a matching gown that’s dark navy, and they both have a gold sash around their waist.

 

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