Page 79 of Not Our First Rodeo
I don’t know how long I tell her these things, only that, eventually, the doctor and a NICU team arrive, in case the baby needs immediate intervention when she gets here. Then thereare bright lights that heat up the room, people that fill it up until there’s not much space. I tighten my grip on Elsie’s thigh, my other hand in hers. I tell her it’s happening, it’s time.
She nods, that determined look I’ve seen on her face a thousand times filling her expression. She’s done so many hard things. She’s danced on blistered feet and sprained ankles. She’s woken up at the crack of dawn and stayed at a studio until well after dark, her muscles quivering and lungs burning. She’s watched all her hard work come crumbling down after a devastating injury and picked herself back up again. She’s lost a baby and held herself together through the fear of losing another. She’s found her way back to herself and to me. She’s done so many hard things, and I know she can do this.
I tell her that too.
Time slips, a ripple in the universe, a shooting star that you make a wish on, there and gone in an instant. And then I hear it, a cry. I look from Elsie to the baby the doctor is holding. My baby,ourbaby. And when I turn back to Elsie, she’s already watching me, awe written in the exhausted lines of her face.
I lean down, my lips finding hers. “You did it,” I whisper against them. “You did it, Elsie.”
Her tears are salty, mingling with the taste of mine, as she says, “We did it, Beau.”
“Beatrice—onewhobringsjoy.”
I shake my head and adjust the baby in my arms. “Mmm, I don’t like it.”
“Me neither, actually,” Beau says.
He’s been throwing out baby names for the last hour, and we’re no closer to picking one. Our theory that we’d know a name when we met her was wrong. The only thing I knew was how much I loved her, immediately. I’d never felt anything like it before.
I snuggle her a little closer, and she sighs contentedly, continuing to nurse. She caught on like a champ, latching within minutes of the doctor putting her on my chest. She was healthy and crying, so the NICU was able to leave, unneeded. The rest of the nurses and doctor soon filed out too, and then it was just the three of us alone, Beau counting her fingers and toes as I fed her for the first time. It felt like magic, like something too good to be true. A dream I couldn’t have perfected if I’d tried.
“Did you know Beau means beautiful?” Beau asks, grinning at me. “So does Bella. We should name her Bella so we can both be called beautiful every day.”
I roll my eyes, suppressing a laugh. “No Bella, tooTwilight.”
“Twilightwas our make-out movie in high school.”
“I know, so we can’t name our child after the main character.”
Beau sighs and stretches, his shirt lifting to reveal a slice of tanned skin. “We had some good times during those movies.”
Heat licks at my cheeks. “Pick a name, Beau.”
He flashes me another grin, and I can’t help but notice the dark circles beneath his eyes. I don’t think he’s slept in days. “What about Rose?”
“What does that mean?”
“Rose,” he replies.
A laugh slips out of me, jostling the baby back awake from where she’d drifted off.
“I should have guessed.”
“Felicity means happiness.”
I tilt my head from side to side. “I like it but don’t love it.”
“Chloe. Eveline. Celeste.”
My eyes find his, and I let out a sigh. “None of them feel right.”
His chin dips in a nod of agreement. “I know, I don’t think so either.”
“Shouldn’t it just come to us? Your mom said she looked at you and Cooper and just knew your names.”
“Have you met Cooper? His personality was formed directly out of the womb.”
“She’s just sweet,” I tell him, holding her a little closer to me. She’s drifted off again, and I pull her away from my chest, clipping my gown back in place before returning her to my body. She snuggles against me, and I swear my heart sighs. When I look at Beau, his expression matches the way I feel inside. Like mush that’s in love.
