Page 36 of Until Waverly

It hit me then. Ireland always changed Junior-Junior’s diaper after a nap or first thing in the morning. Gathering everything I needed, I walked into Waverly’s bedroom where I’d spied a changing table during my earlier pursual of her home.

I placed Alandria down on the mat before I started unsnapping the bottom of the gown she had on. Her little feet were encased in matching pink socks. Lifting the dress up over her belly, I pulled a diaper free from where Waverly had them all placed. I also opened the wipes and prepared for just about any type of emergency.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a poop-laden diaper. I wasn’t mentally prepared for that just yet. Once done, I snapped her back up and lifted her into my arms. She kept pecking at my shoulder, searching for something. Not finding what she’d wanted frustrated her. I could hear it as her whimpers got louder and louder.

“Okay, peanut, I’ll feed you,” I said to her.

She stopped, as if startled by the timbre of my voice. It gave me enough time to make my way back to the couch and get settled. I kicked off my shoes, got comfortable, and fed my daughter for the first time.

I wasn’t very dexterous because I was attempting to take pictures and continue feeding her. Almost dropped the damn device on her head no less than a dozen times. I sent all the pictures off to my siblings via our group text, then saved them to the Cloud, so I’d always have them.

When it became too much to juggle, I threw the phone down and just focused on the moment. Alandria was a champion eater. She polished off the bottle in under ten minutes. Ireland didn’t burp Junior-Junior. He had a hearty constitution, she said, and if she sat him up, he’d belch out the gas in his belly. I mimicked what I’d seen her do, and sure enough, my delicate little girl dressed all in pink let out the loudest hiccup.

I was oddly proud of her.

Setting the bottle on the table beside the couch, I looked at my daughter. “Now what?”

She stared up at me in curiosity while sucking on the knuckles of her fist. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do, but considering it was almost nine, it was probably best to put her to bed, yet I couldn’t let go.

At some point, I cuddled her onto my chest, got comfortable on the couch, and both of us fell into a fitful sleep.

I didn’t know how long we’d been like that when the ringing of my cell startled me out of my sleep. My arms instantly went around Alandria, holding her close so she didn’t wake.

I glanced down, counting to five before moving again, hopeful she stayed asleep. I shifted and grabbed my phone, then flipped it over to see who it was.

Sarah Jane.

I ran my thumb over the screen, answering it.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey,” she replied. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“We took a nap,” I said, throwing my daughter under the bus with me.

Sarah Jane chuckled. “You must’ve needed it.” She paused for a second, and I could feel her anxiety through the phone.

“Sarah Jane?” I probed. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. I sat up straight, ignoring the slight crick in my neck and the soreness of my jaw from going two rounds with Mack and Hunter. The pounding in my head was blissfully silent, though. However, I panicked. Had I found Waverly again only to lose her before we could right our shit? “Tell me.”

“Waverly is out of surgery. It was a little more complicated than the doctor thought, but he said with rest, time, and therapy, she’ll be able to get back to her normal activities in a couple of months.”

The breath that had gotten caught in my chest was released on an exhale.

“She’s asking for Alandria.”

I figured she would be. If the roles had been reversed, I’d be requesting my daughter too. “Okay. Do you want me to bring her up?”

“She’s agitated.” Sarah Jane sniffed. “Her doctor thinks it might be related to her concussion and the trauma of being in the lockdown. Dr. Jay, that’s her doctor, feels like we should wait until Waverly’s had a chance to fully wake up for the anesthesia and be assessed by neurology.”

“Neurology?” I murmured. “Is it worse than they originally told us?”

“According to the Doctor, it’s protocol when patients wake up confused.” The wobble of emotion in her voice put me on alert. Sarah Jane was worried. More than she let on.

“Is Mack Sr. there with you?”

Sarah Jane signed. “Yes, they let him in a couple of hours ago.”

“What do you want me to do, Sarah Jane? You’re Waverly’s mom. You and Mack Sr. know her the best. Do you want me to bring Alandria up now or wait until later?”

---