Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I might have had to bite my tongue to keep from pointing out that it was also one of Parker’s favorite things.
“With any luck, you shouldn’t need to pick her up too much. Just talk to her and play with her toys with her. I’ll try not to be gone the entire hour.” Parker gave me a pat on the arm, and then he was gone.
I was alone with the baby.
She must have noticed it as well, because she stopped playing with her fuzzy pink bear and stared up at me with these blue eyes that looked almost too big for her small face.
With a hard swallow, I stepped up to the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to touch a foot that she had raised in the air. “Hello.” I winced. That was too deep. “Do you remember me?” I asked, attempting to soften my tone. “We met a week ago in the office. I’m the one responsible for your bouncy seat.”
Lovely. I’m trying to convince her to like me because I bought her things.
I picked up the gray elephant that was beside her and pinched the tail so I could shake it above her head. Her gaze jumped from me to the elephant, and a soft noise escaped her that sounded happy. It wasn’t a cry, at least. This was good.
Unfortunately, jiggling the elephant to hold her attention wasn’t a long-term solution. It was barely a short-term one. Within a couple of minutes, she was shifting and rocking until she got onto her stomach. I watched as she got her chubby arms under her and pushed up to look around. My heart squeezed as I realized she was probably searching for her father.
Little noises slipped from her as she moved her feet on the bed, as if struggling for purchase to push herself forward. These didn’t sound like the same happy noises.
I frowned as I leaned forward and rolled her over so that I could see her face. The smile was gone, and we were moving into glare territory. Not good. I wiggled the elephant and the bear. Neither held her attention. We needed something else.
“How about we walk?” Biting on the inside of my cheek, I carefully picked her up and shifted her tiny frame to my left arm so that she could rest against my shoulder. She didn’t feel like I’d expected at all. Her cheeks and arms were so pudgy and soft-looking, I’d thought she’d feel very doughy and squishy, but as soon as I got her in my hands, I was hit with the enormity of how fragile she was. Her body was a loose amalgam of thin bones held together in a sack of warm, tender flesh. Everything about her felt as if those bones might snap if I held her too firmly. Part of me wanted to immediately put her back down again. She was too delicate to be held. But I couldn’t. She was missing her father and needed reassurance that she hadn’t been abandoned.
I gathered her close and pressed my right hand to her back to steady her. The soft, disgruntled noises stopped and her wide eyes swept over her surroundings. My heart raced, and I ordered my hands not to shake. How did people hold babies all the time? This wasn’t safe. Not safe at all. She needed a helmet and bubble wrap. Miles and miles of bubble wrap covering every limb and her torso. It was the only way to keep her little bones and organs safe.
“Ah!” Joy shouted and thrust out her hand in front of us, one finger and thumb extended. I wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at, but now that she was higher and could see her surroundings, she seemed to want to explore. It was on the tip of my tongue to point out that it wasn’t safe. What if she fell? Any number of things could happen to hurt her.
“Ah!” she repeated when I didn’t move, demanding fearlessly that we get going. I stared at her, marveling at her wide blue eyes and dark pink mouth glistening with saliva. Now that I had her settled in my arms, adjusting for the lightness of her weight, I no longer felt like we were standing on the edge of a precipice. She was safe and could explore because I was there to protect those fragile bones and tender organs. And she knew that. Or sensed it. She was safe because I was there.
“Let’s see…what can we do? Oh. How about a tour? Did you see the bathroom yet?” I held her close as I took slow, careful steps into the bathroom. I flipped on the light and moved through the room, trying not to think about how I’d held her father in my arms last night.