A few minutes later, they were settled into the rocking chair, bathed in fresh salty air and shaded from the Destin late-morning sun.
She held him close, angling the bottle just right. His lips latched eagerly, his eyes never leaving hers. Something unspoken passed between them—a gentle tethering that was impossible to define.
As he suckled, Meredith gave in to a wave of peace. And not her usual peace—like the sight of an empty inbox or that last slash on a To Do list. This was a different kind of fulfillment. This was…deeper.
Could being a mother be the ultimate accomplishment?
She leaned her head back, rocking them both. Her palm drifted to her own abdomen, flat but no longer hers alone. There was a baby in there and she simply had to deal with that.
Carefully, without disturbing Atlas, she reached for her phone and opened her browser. With one hand, she searched for Destin OB/GYN offices and found a practice with good reviews.
Heart thumping, she called.
“Coastal Women’s Health, how can I help you?”
“Hi,” Meredith said, voice steady even as her throat tightened. “I…I’d like to make a new patient appointment. I’m pregnant.”
Saying the words made it more real than the two pink lines ever had.
The receptionist was warm, professional. She answered the easy questions and, well, of course Meredith had her insurance information memorized. After reciting it, she mouthed to Atlas, “Have you met me?”
They settled on an appointment date a few weeks away, and Meredith hung up, staring at the baby in her arms.
Atlas blinked slowly, the corners of his mouth sticky and sweet, so she dabbed them with the cloth diaper that Grandma Maggie insisted all babies had to have in the house. It was a nicely functional little blast from the past.
“Well,” she whispered, thinking about the phone call, “I guess it’s official now, little man. You’re going to have a cousin.”
An unexpected tear burned her lid and slid out from under her lashes. Hormones, she told herself. And maybe hope. For a future she hadn’t expected but might be what she wanted after all.
Holding Atlas certainly made her think so.
Rocking, she swiped the tears away, tugged the empty bottle free, and eased him onto her shoulder. He let out a soft burp—honestly, no one knew how to get him to do that like Aunt Meredith—then drifted to sleep.
She took him back downstairs, tucked him gently into the bassinet, adjusted the monitor beside it, and tiptoed upstairs to the kitchen, making sure the monitor receiver was on.
She was on her way to the laundry room when the office door opened and her father stepped out. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”
“I’m on baby duty,” she said, holding up the monitor. “He just went down. What’s going on?”
Dad ran his hand through his hair, looking a little frazzled. “There’s a permit issue on the Hill View complex. They think I submitted the wrong elevation plans. I didn’t.”
“You sure?” she teased. “You’ve had the Kate distraction.”
He didn’t even smile. “They’re threatening to shut down work until it’s resolved. I need someone to go through the files with me. I know the originals are on the shared drive, but the update from the surveyor is missing.”
“I know exactly where they are, and I have a good friend in the city manager’s office. Also, that surveyor is always late, butI have his secret cell phone. Let me get my laptop and we’ll fix this.”
Relief poured over his face. “You’re a lifesaver, Meredith. Seriously. I couldn’t run this business without you.”
But would she be a lifesaver when she had her own baby to care for? Probably. She was Miss Perfect, as Jonah constantly reminded her.Perfect. If that wasn’t the height of irony, she didn’t know what was.
Two hours later,the fire was out. The city had their corrected elevations, the right documents had been located, watermarked, and sent, and Dad had finally stopped pacing the length of the living room like an architect on the verge of spontaneous combustion.
Meredith shut her laptop and leaned back on the couch, balancing her notes on one knee. “Paper trail restored. Municipal gods appeased.” At his look, she laughed. “And your God, too.”
He winced as if the words hit him somewhere tender but before she could ask, he dropped into the armchair across from her, exhaling loudly.
“I swear to you, admin crap will be the end of me. I can sketch a cantilevered deck over a marsh in my sleep, but I will never understand the way permitting offices organize digital files.”
