Page 35 of Until Waverly

The trip had been easy. Plus, Waverly didn’t live that far from the hospital. I drove ten miles per hour under the speed limit though. Thank fuck, the roads were empty. Didn’t need some jerk riding my ass after the night all of us had.

Sarah Jane, at some point, had texted me about Waverly’s assigned spot in the complex, and I parked there. Later, I’d figure out how to get my Comet and bring it here instead. Gathering up Alandria’s bags, I then gingerly removed the car seat from the base. Every time I jostled the car seat a bit more than necessary, I eyed up my sleeping daughter. Hoping and praying she didn’t wake until we got inside.

If what everyone said was true, Alandria wasn’t sleeping properly, then she needed this. Bad enough she’d be crying by the time she figured out Waverly wasn’t around. But that would come later. For now, I needed to get us inside.

Waverly lived on the second floor, so carrying everything up the stairs was a different workout. I placed the bags and car seat on the walkway while I struggled with the door lock. Once the door pushed too, I picked up Alandria first to bring her in, leaving the bags for last.

At first glance, the apartment was small, considering I stepped into the kitchen before even seeing the living room. From what I observed, it didn’t even have a stove, just a three-burner stovetop range. There was also no dishwasher, which had to be a pain in the ass with a baby. Sitting on the countertop was the tiniest fucking microwave I’d ever seen and what looked like a fridge that was half the size of the one in my house.How is this possible?

Right off the kitchen was a little living room. It had a two-seater couch, a TV, a lamp, and some sort of baby swing. To the right was a closed door. Maybe the bathroom. Could be the bedroom.

I eyed up Alandria. She was still sleeping, so I took the time to get the breastmilk out of the cold pack to put the pouches in the fridge.

I pulled open the fridge door and let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding when I saw it was well-stocked. Sitting in the middle of the first shelf was an empty plastic container with a label on it. I rolled my eyes. Ireland did the same thing. I placed the twelve bags in the container before shutting the door. Everything else looked clean, but I took it out and laid it on the countertop beside twelve of the smallest bottles I’d ever seen.

Not wanting to wake Alandria, I left her in the middle of the floor and went to the door I hadn’t opened yet. Behind it was the bedroom with a bathroom. Tucked in the corner of Waverly’s bedroom was a crib with a pink animal mobile. On it hung bright pink elephants.

The bed wasn’t made, but the room was neat and clean. So was the bathroom. Other than the corner where Alandria’s crib was, the apartment felt sterile. It had none of Waverly’s personality. The only decorations were pictures of Alandria. A couple of them included Waverly, but most of them were just of our daughter.

Had Waverly not bothered to decorate her home because she considered it a temporary residence? Was she punishing herself? Those were just more questions in a long line of ones I’d had but would have to wait until Waverly woke up.

I went back into the small living room and rubbed the back of my neck. Shit, I didn’t even have clean clothes. Which required getting up early and going home with Alandria. Not a bad thing, I’d also have one of my brother’s following me back in the Comet, so I could have my car. As I sat on the couch, I spotted one of those “Baby’s First Book” albums sitting on the cushion. Curious, I picked up the book and opened it. There was an ultrasound stuck in the pocket under the label “First look at our baby”.

I flipped the pages slowly, seeing pictures of some of Alandria’s milestones. Like when she smiled. Or the time she babbled, rolled over, or lifted her head.

A lot of pages were still empty since Alandria was only four months old. It just hammered home that I’d missed out on everything. Taking care of Waverly when her ankles swelled up or when she craved a certain food at 3 am. Being there to feel the baby kick. Helping her through labor. Waverly must have been terrified.

I never got to see what Waverly looked like pregnant, waddling around the further along she got. I bet she’d been adorable. I also didn’t get to experience my daughter being born and taking her first breath.

Fuck. I wanted to punch the wall in anger.

Waverly had a lot to answer for. But I knew she’d have to heal too.I wish you would have talked to me, sunshine. No matter what, I’d have been there for you.

I flipped the page again. This one was labeled “How I got my name”. Waverly had handwritten the response.You got your name because your daddy and his siblings are the biggest Foo Fighter fans in the world. One day, I asked your daddy what his favorite song was from the band, and he said it was Arlandria. Side note: I listened to that song a lot while pregnant with you. Anyway, once I found out you were going to be a girl, I knew I couldn’t name you Jackson, because that’s a boy’s name. As much as we follow tradition in this family, Jackson would cause too much confusion. So, I tweaked his favorite Foo song by dropping the r and got Alandria. This way, no matter what, you’d always have a part of your daddy with you.

Holy fuck.

I wanted to equal parts kiss Waverly senseless and swat her ass red for keeping this from me. Tears welled in my eyes. We were so good together. Being here, reading the passage, ripped open the oozing wound, bisecting my heart.

I flipped the page, needing to get away from the sweet words Waverly had written. Tucked into the back was a folded-up notebook page. For a second, I felt like I was invading Waverly’s secret thoughts and feelings. I shook it off. This wasn’t a diary. This was our daughter’s milestones book. Something to use to chronicle our daughter’s life.

Opening the paper, I saw more of her big bubbly writing.

The BOOM is it fact or fiction?

The fuck? Was this about the Mayson curse or whatever? According to the Maysons, the BOOM was the blessing of find the one. Both Ireland and Mack asserted it was true. The BOOM was finding your one and only and falling in love with the person almost instantaneously.Could that be what Mack Sr. had been talking about?I didn’t believe in it. But Waverly, she, grew up with the Maysons. She knew about it and obviously believed in it.

Is it possible to find your BOOM and lose them? I believe it is. Jackson isn’t mine, and I know he is my BOOM.

Can the BOOM be one-sided? Maybe it can be. It’s obvious Jackson is mine, but I don’t think I’m his. And this breaks my heart.

Soft whimpering prevented me from reading the rest. I tucked the paper back where I found it. Placing the book on the cushion, I got up and walked over to the car seat.

Alandria was waking up. Her little legs and arms were moving like she wanted out of her seat to roam around. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. I needed to think rationally. If I took her out of the seat, it would be hard for me to hold her and prepare her bottle. In her car seat, she was safe.Bottle it is. Opening the fridge back up, I pulled out one of the heavy plastic bags. Waverly had written the date and time on all of them, so I used the oldest one first.

It was easy enough to assemble the bottle and pour the milky liquid into the small container. By the time I was done, Alandria was really fussing.They weren’t kidding. She had a temper on her.

Picking up her baby seat, I put her on the countertop and gently removed her small body from the seat. She did a stretch that had to feel fantastic. Her little pink cupid lips formed an adorable O-shape.

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