Lucy and the Sheikh(58)
Then the baby wriggled and Lucy jumped, brought back to the present with a jolt. With one finger she tentatively pushed aside the swaddling blankets to look at the baby’s face and she gasped, holding the breath for long seconds as she absorbed the baby’s tiny features: a stunning combination of Maia’s perfect features and Mohammed’s dark hair and nutmeg skin. The tears began again—she wasn’t sure they’d ever stopped—and her arms instinctively drew the baby close. The baby opened its mouth briefly in a silent cry that quickly faded and then turned toward Lucy’s chest and fell asleep. Lucy spread her hands around the soft wool of the blanket, curling around the baby’s tender curves, and brought the bundle closer to her body. She dipped her head to smell the baby’s sweet smell and knew in that moment that, despite the grief that was irrevocably intertwined with her own past, she could do this.
She looked at Razeen, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “This has to be the quietest baby I’ve ever seen.”
“She doesn’t take after her aunt then.”
“Is it a ‘she’? I hadn’t even thought to ask.”
“Yes, it’s a she. Mohammed said that Maia and he had decided on the name ‘Noor.’”
“Noor,” Lucy repeated. “That’s beautiful.”
“It means ‘light’ in Arabic.”
“Same meaning as ‘Lucy.’”
“I didn’t know that.” His voice was so soft, so tender that it drew her attention from the baby nestled in her arms.
“Thank you, Razeen, for being here for me. I would have gone to pieces without you.”
His brown eyes were filled with sadness. “No,” he pressed his lips together as if in regret. “No, not you. You’re stronger than you think.”
“Even the strong need help some times. Will you stay with me now?” He didn’t answer immediately and she suddenly felt uncertain. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask. You must have so many things to do, I—”
“Of course I’ll stay. The registrar says there’s a room at our disposal. We can stay here the night and then Noor will be close to Maia when she’s able to see her.” He lifted her chin so he could see into her eyes. “OK?”
Lucy nodded. “Definitely OK.”
Razeen put his arm around her and gently guided her through the corridors to the suite.
As soon as Lucy sat on the couch, Noor awoke and opened her mouth and screamed. Lucy looked up anxiously at the nurse who’d just appeared. “What’s the matter with her? Is she hurt?” The nurse laughed at Lucy’s expression. Although obviously unable to understand her word for word, she understood the gist and handed her the tiniest bottle of milk Lucy had ever seen.
“The nurse says she’s hungry. That’s all. Nothing to worry about.”
Noor was soon latched on to the bottle and drinking contentedly. But that only caused another anxious thought to pop into Lucy’s mind. “Will this mean she can’t breastfeed from Maia?”
Razeen translated to the nurse before turning once more to Lucy. “She says, hopefully it should all be fine. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be.”
“This is so scary. There are so many things that might go wrong.”
“And so many things that might go right.” The nurse said something Lucy couldn’t understand. “The nurse says that you will make a good mother. You are already worried about everything.”
Lucy shivered as if someone had walked over her grave.
“What’s the matter, Lucy? The nurse meant it only as a compliment.”
But Lucy couldn’t smile, she couldn’t reassure Razeen, she couldn’t even look him in the eye. How could she tell him that, long ago, when she’d been far too young, she had been a mother—albeit briefly—a mother who hadn’t been able to care for her own baby?
“Lucy?”
Lucy shook her head, her eyes fixed on Noor. “I can’t imagine ever being a mother, especially not of a baby so perfect.”
Razeen didn’t answer but simply gazed down at Lucy and the baby and felt the opposite. He couldn’t imagine her not being a mother. But there was one difference to the scene he saw before him: the baby would be his and Lucy’s and it would be more perfect.
“Lucy, when are you going to stop smiling that stupid, soppy grin? It’s not like you.”
Maia sat propped up in her own bed in the city of caves, the baby at her breast suckling contentedly.
“I thought I’d lost you.” Lucy could feel the tears, which seemed to be her constant companion now, prick her eyes.