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Hold Me Tight(84)

By:Faith Sullivan


“I’ll never get him to eat dog food again, thanks to you,” I grumble good-naturedly.

“That’s okay, because knowing the way Shep watches over her, I think he belongs to Natalie now, and not you, and Natalie will forgive me. Won’t you, Nattie girl?” he coos, tickling her toes and making her smile.

“She is the most pleasant baby I ever saw,” my mom chimes in.

“Isn’t she though?” Ivy grins widely, unable to contain her joy. “She exudes nothing but sweetness and light.”

“I beg to differ,” Will shouts back from the tree line, overhearing us. “Have you ever changed one of her diapers?”

He shakes his head, following Ben into the woods, and we all start cracking up. Natalie has no idea what he just said, but she starts laughing, too. And pretty soon, Shep starts howling for more chicken.

It’s crazy. It’s chaotic. But my heart swells inside my chest because it’s exactly what I always wanted—laughter, family, and a whole lot of love.

***

Even though we’re dead tired from emptying boxes and putting a restless baby to bed, it’s still our first Saturday night in our new home, and I intend to make it one to remember.

I peek over at Natalie fast asleep in her crib next to our bed. She still looks so small nestled against her pink blanket, seemingly swallowed up by it. My heart constricts at how fragile she is, but I know deep within burns a gentle yet determined spirit. She’s beaten the odds, overcoming every obstacle set in her path. She wasn’t expected to crawl at nine months like most other babies do, but she is. She’s kept Ivy and me on our toes as she scampers around with Shep following her every move. He’s curled up at the base of her crib now, keeping watch over her, the two of them having bonded the moment we brought her home from the hospital.

“Is everyone asleep?” Ivy asks, stifling a yawn as she turns out the light in the bathroom.

She’s in one of my t-shirts and nothing else. It falls well below her knees, but it’s white, leaving little to the imagination. I roll off the side of the bed and grab the two wine glasses I have sitting on the end table, tucking the bottle of champagne under my arm.

“Will you join me on the balcony, Mrs. Young?” I bow in front of her, and the glasses clink between my fingers.

“What about Natalie?” Ivy steps past me to look over my shoulder.

“Shep will alert us if she wakes up,” I reassure her. “C’mon. We’ll only be right outside the door.”

“But it’s a strange house, and if she tries to climb out of her crib and we’re not here—” Ivy protests, getting flustered.

“Ivy, has she ever gotten out of her crib?” I question her gently.

“No, but—” she pouts, not wanting to give in.

“After all of the fresh air she got today, she’s out like a light.” I slide open the door that leads out to the balcony, unwilling to take no for an answer.

Our daughter is fine. It just takes Ivy a little longer to realize that sometimes. She’s overprotective because she loves her so much, and it’s up to me to remind her when it’s okay to relax.

The night air feels a tad chilly against my skin, so I grab a blanket off the bed before hoisting Ivy over my shoulder. She shrieks, wriggling against me.

“Shhh,” I warn her. “Don’t wake the baby.”

I slide her down the length of my body, savoring every delectable inch of her before seating her on my lap and wrapping the blanket around us.

“Shall I do the honors?” I tease her, reaching for the handle of the corkscrew I already have in place.

“No, let me,” she jumps in, popping it off, and it comes gushing out. “Quick, give me a glass!” she squeals as the champagne runs down her legs.

She fills both glasses, handing me one as it bubbles and fizzes over the rim. She’s about to take a sip when I lower her hand, causing her to look at me quizzically.

“You know how I feel about alcohol, but tonight I’m willing to make an exception,” she replies, raising an eyebrow in my direction. “I’m allowed. I’m not breastfeeding.”

“That’s not it,” I murmur, my voice deepening as I gaze at her in the glow of the harvest moon. “I want to make a toast. The one I didn’t get to make at our wedding.”

She falls silent, staring at me with those eyes whose pools of green I could so willingly get lost in. I feel so alive, so present. Being near her heightens my senses as I breathe in the soft citrus scent of her hair and exult over the softness of her skin as her bare leg brushes against mine. She’s everything I could ever want. She’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.