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I’d closed The Stop half an hour ago, and I’d been on my feet for six straight hours before that, not counting all the work I’d done in the loft throughout the afternoon. Weekdays were quietenough that I could man the bar by myself, and my chef, Noa, made do with a single assistant in the kitchen. Once happy hour passed and the dinner rush was done, I’d pulled them aside and explained about Seb.
I was surprised at how little fuss they made. Noa had three daughters of his own, the youngest barely a toddler, and when I’d told him Seb was six months old, Noa had stayed for an hour after his shift to steam, boil, process, and puree about a hundred little labelled pots of fruits and vegetables. Apparently, Seb was at an age when he’d soon want to start eating more than just formula, and when I tried to pretend I already knew that, Noa took pity on me and shared a few websites I could use to track Seb’s upcoming milestones. I went a step further and ordered half a dozen parenting books online but knowing that Noa would be a willing source of information over the next few months loosened another knot in my stomach.
I left most of the baby food in the commercial freezer downstairs, but I carried a small bag of the little containers up to the loft in case Seb wanted to give the apple or pear a spin for breakfast. I dragged my exhausted arse up the stairs, not even caring that I was on the sofa for the foreseeable future. A soft place to pass out was all I needed.
I opened the front door, pulled up short, and blinked my dry eyes at the destruction. What the actual fuck?
The space was dark, but enough light glowed from my bedroom overhead to make out the half-dozen milky bottles, the open can of formula, and takeaway boxes tossed to one side in the kitchen. The baby bath on its plastic frame was tucked into a corner in the dining space, three towels were flung across the dining chairs, and open bottles of soaps and creams littered the table. A large blanket had been laid out on the floor, and a mix of soft toys, building blocks, and books tumbled across it.
I set the bag of baby food down and scanned the loft once more, trying to wade through a fog of exhausted confusion. That’s when I noticed the baby monitor in the kitchen, switched off or the battery dead, and alarm flared. Where was Seb?
I went straight to his darkened bedroom and opened the door, two more steps taking me to the side of his cot. It was empty, and the alarm in my chest escalated to panic. Spinning around, I bolted through the living space and took the stairs to the bedroom two at a time. The stand lamp in the corner was switched on, so it was clear straightaway that neither Abbie nor Seb was there.
Fuck. Heart racing, I patted my pockets, looking for my phone, but I’d left it in the kitchen with the baby food. In my rush to get to it, I practically fell the first few steps down the stairs, but from that vantage point, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. The shape of someone on the sofa, invisible in the shadows. As I squinted into the darkness, relief leached the tension from my muscles. It was Abbie, and on her chest was the smaller shape of Seb, his little legs tucked underneath him and his bulky bottom high in the air. I took a moment to collect myself, sucking in a lungful of air and rubbing my exhausted eyes, then approached the couch quietly so I wouldn’t disturb them.
Abbie was propped up a little, a couple cushions behind her head and shoulders, but her eyes were closed. Her arms curled protectively around Seb, who had snuggled in under her chin, his lashes brushing his rosy cheeks and his hands tucked away somewhere I couldn’t see them. They smelled like soap, and I stared at them for a moment, stunned at how this picture made me feel.
So deep in love I had no idea how I was going to dig myself out of it.
Seb stirred, turning his head and rubbing his little nose against Abbie’s neck. Not wanting him to wake her if it could beavoided, I lifted Seb as gently as I could. He yawned adorably and snuggled against me, and I couldn’t believe that something so small could make me feel such big things. Awkwardly and with two open hands, I cradled him against my chest as I carried him to his bed. He whimpered when I laid him down, and even though his eyes remained closed, I panicked and laid a hand on his stomach, trying to keep him still. The warmth of his body radiated into my palm, and I waited with unusual patience until, miraculously, he quieted again. Then I tiptoed from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind me.
I found the baby monitor and plugged it in to charge, then returned to Abbie on the couch. She’d burrowed deeper into the cushions, turning onto her side, and her chest moved with the steady, even inhale and exhale of sleep. She wore long-sleeved white linen pyjamas that buttoned down at the front, and I’d never seen her in pyjamas before. She’d only ever crashed here unannounced after a big night, arriving in the dark and climbing upstairs wearing a dress that showed off her figure before coming down in it again the next morning. Tonight, she was covered from neck to ankle, and I’d never seen her look so pretty.
I crouched and slipped my hands under her back and knees, then rose and tucked her against my body, reminding me of the way I’d held Seb. She turned into me without waking, and I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling its clean coconut scent. Abbie had smelled that way since high school, and I’d never get my fill of it.
I’d carried her to the top of the stairs before she jolted awake, and my arms tensed around her, not wanting to put her down just yet.
She looked around in a groggy fright. “Where’s Seb?”
“Shh. He’s fine.” I pressed a calming kiss to her forehead. “I took him to his own bed.”
“Oh.” Her body relaxed again, her head dropping onto my chest, and she didn’t seem to notice my arms around her. “Okay.”
She let me lay her down on the near side of the bed while I went around to the other side to pull back the covers. Abbie shifted to put her elbows underneath her and squinted at me in the dull light of the lamp. “He’s asleep?”
“He is.”
She collapsed onto the bed with a relieved sigh and didn’t protest when I dragged her over to the other side of the mattress and then pulled the blanket up to her chin. I considered asking how the night had been—though given the state of the loft, I could probably guess—but Abbie nuzzled into the pillows, already asleep again. Probably for the best. I was too tired to talk anyway.
I stood up to leave, but Abbie’s voice stopped me.
“Will?”
She reached for me, her face half-hidden in the pillows, and I put my hand in hers. She pulled me down to sit on the side of the bed.
“I did good, didn’t I?” she mumbled.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face, and she turned her face towards my hand like a flower following the sun.
“You did better than good. You did amazing.”
She smiled crookedly before her face relaxed. I brushed her forehead again, then her cheek.
I was tired, but I still sat there for an hour and watched her sleep.
13
Abbie
