From day one,Fitz is an amazing dad. He knows what to do almost by instinct.
“It's just because I've lived on a ranch for so long. I'm used to being around when some of our foals have their babies. It's not that different,” he says.
Um, it's really different. I watch him sing to our little daughter, Charlotte, and rock her to sleep. My heart feels so full when I look at the two of them together that I feel like it almost can’t contain this volume of joy.
It’s the hormones. I know this. It’s all about survival of the species, and a new mom has to feel this kind of attachment to the father of her children to begin nesting. The father needs to feel a warm possessiveness over his partner and baby to provide food for them. But it’s temporary. I know this too.
Given some time, the hormones will subside, and I'll get over the feelings I have for him. But right now, my system is so flooded with love for Charlotte and for Fitz that sometimes it’s hard to breathe.
CHAPTER 29
Fitz
One MonthLater
The bacon sizzles in a skillet,and I'm busy scrambling eggs in a pan. I can hear music wafting in from the room next door, where Tessa is nursing four-week-old Charlotte to sleep.
I've lost track of whether this is her morning nap or her midmorning nap. The baby sleeps all the time and doesn't seem to be on any sort of schedule.
“It's normal,” Tessa says, when I bring her the plate of eggs.
“Really? Are you sure we’re not fucking this up somehow?” I gesture to Charlotte and the room and my house. “I want to do everything right.”
“We're definitely doing everything right because you’ve read every baby book known to man, and we’re following all the instructions.” The sweet chime of Tessa’s laughter sounds like music. Charlotte looks up at me with her big, blurry eyes as if she agrees.
“Oh my god, that smells delicious, and I am starving. Again. Seriously,” Tessa says, shifting the baby from one arm to the other in a graceful dance move and grabbing a fork. She heaps a big bite of eggs onto a piece of toast and takes a monster bite. A dribble of butter runs down her chin, and she mops it up with the back of her hand. “I’ve lost all my manners and social graces, clearly.” She rolls her eyes at herself and takes another big bite.
“Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, honestly.”
“Well, you spend time around horses, so no surprise you don’t mind me eating like one. I don’t even know how I could be hungry when I ate two pieces of toast an hour ago.”
“I like any excuse to cook, so this is all working for me.” I gesture at her and Charlotte, who is still tucked in, nursing.
Who am I kidding? I like doing anything I can for her. Nothing makes me happier than seeing this self-sufficient woman put down her to-do list and allow me to take some of the weight from her shoulders. I’d do it all day long instead of half the shit I’m supposed to be doing. Probably why my restaurant clients are blowing up my phone.
“You’re eating for two since you’re nursing,” I remind her.
“Feels like I’m eating for twelve.”
I pick up a slice of cantaloupe and take a bite.
We've both been walking around like zombies, mostly because we’ve been enjoying our time together in the same town instead of sleeping when Charlotte sleeps. We sit just like we are now, with Charlotte on one of our laps or in the little bassinet in the corner, and we talk.
Each time I get to know a little bit more about Tessa, it feels like a new, amazing first date. Tessa hasn’t really been on a true maternity leave because whenever she can, she researches case law for the trial against Tomahawk, which is coming up fast.
And I’ve been dealing with Chad, who went on a two-day bender and called me late last night. I still haven’t told Tessathe details. Better to protect her from that ugliness. “Thanks for covering last night,” I say. We’ve been taking turns with the middle-of-the-night feedings, but I was out all night, so Tessa took that shift.
“How’s he doing?”
I shrug. “Okay.”
She waits, but I don’t elaborate. What’s the point? Chad has promised to clean up his act so many times I’ve lost count, and I don’t want to make excuses for him.
“Fitz, you can talk to me. What’s up with Chad?”
“Nothing new,” I say. Charlotte has finished eating and has that drunken look on her face that I love to see. “Here, let me take her.”
I scoop her onto my lap and tuck the blankets around her a little more tightly so she feels secure. Tessa watches this with a look of wonderment in her eyes that she’s had since Charlotte was born.
