“How long until she’s sleeping through the night?” Perrin whispered.
“I don’t know,” Mahrree whispered back, both of them worried they might wake her. “Two mothers last Holy Day told me their babies slept through the night from the very beginning.”
“Ah,” Perrin nodded, “I noticed you had a murderous look in your eyes. That comment must have been what produced it.”
“Then a midwife told me it can take half a year or more before they sleep through the night!”
“You’re not going to cry about that again, are you?”
Mahrree chuckled quietly. “Just tears of exhaustion. That was on your mother’s list, too. You were there when the other fathers told you about weeping wives, right?”
He smiled. “I have to admit, I never understood the need for parents to sit around talking about children during the congregational meal. But now? It’s nice to know our daughter’s normal. And you’re mostly normal.”
“It was a legitimate question!”
“But Mahrree, to describe in detail to other parents, while they are eating, the nature and the amount of the fluids Jaytsy produces is not the best dinner conversation.”
Mahrree smirked. “None of them flinched. They knew exactly what I was talking about, and you were relieved to know as well that it was normal for her to squirt out so much, and so violently.”
He shrugged in reluctant agreement.
“I never appreciated them before until now,” Mahrree said, stroking Jaytsy’s soft light brown hair. “The villagers, I mean. I’ve lived here all my life, but I never really understood what it meant to be part of them.”
“I rather miss the nightly dinners they brought in,” Perrin admitted. “Although some women have strange ideas of what to do with chicken, it was nice that you didn’t have to cook for five weeks.”
“Mmm, I miss that, too!”
“Mahrree, why don’t you go upstairs and nap? Jaytsy’s got that thumb in her mouth again. She’ll be quiet for a while.”
“And miss our first anniversary?”
“You’re eyes are closed, my darling wife. You’re missing it.”
“Are you doing anything entertaining?” She forced her eyes open.
“Not until Jaytsy wakes up and I get her to laugh again. That sound has got to be the—”
He stopped before he said the “c” word Mahrree had teased him that he would eventually utter.
“I’m not missing anything, then.”
Perrin chuckled.
Jaytsy stirred at the low noise, and both of her parents held their breath. She stretched, grunted, and snuggled back into her father’s arms.
Her parents exhaled.
“It seemed to be so easy,” Mahrree murmured quietly. “Feed them, burp them, change them, put them to sleep.”
“We had no idea what we were getting into, did we?” Perrin smiled. “I wonder if we’ll ever get the hang of it before she outgrows us. Bath time is entertaining, I’ll admit that.”
“And you’ve become quite expert at changing cloths. I think you’re the only man in Edge who is.”
“Just don’t let anyone know about that. Not very dignified for the commander of the fort at Edge to be known as a dirty cloth changer.”
“Just remember it’s because you have a strong stomach, Captain Shin.”
“And don’t you forget it!” He ran his finger along Jaytsy’s soft cheek. “She’s already getting bigger and fatter. That’s good, right?”
“Baby fat is very good.”
“As surprising as all of this has been, I must admit I’m enjoying it. She really is . . . quite . . .” He faltered to find the right word.
“Say it. I dare you. The ‘c’ word. As your anniversary gift to me.”
“All right—she’s cute.” He sighed in amused resignation. “There. Satisfied?”
Mahrree cuddled into him. “Completely! Happy Anniversary, Mr. Shin.”
“It always will be with you, Mrs. Shin.”
---
Two moons later Jaytsy was five moons old and learning to sit, snatch food off of her parents’ plates, and laugh easily. And Mahrree and Perrin began to feel a bit of confidence in what they were doing.
Until Mahrree awoke one morning in the second week of Harvest to a most unusual feeling. Not that it wasn’t familiar, just very unexpected. She wished Perrin still had the bucket under the bed, and when the feeling didn’t pass she made a quick trip to the washing room. Then she sat stunned on the small sofa, wondering if it was something she ate or . . .?
No. It couldn’t be that. Absolutely not already.