Page 33 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
“We’re having a baby.”
“What?” His brows dipped in a frown of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“We matched, and we’re having a baby.” Amy’s voice shuddered with awe. She extended her cell in his direction, and he took it with dazed motions. “Like today.”
“God bless America,” he whispered, gaze on the screen. He leaned on the counter behind him and laughed, a shaky sound that mirrored Amy’s wonder. He draped an arm around Amy’s shoulders and pulled her into him, then reached for Savannah with his other arm, tugging her into their embrace. “We’re having a baby.”
* * * * *
Savannah really wasn’t sure what was worse—the waiting or watching Amy’s normally even emotions veer with it. Late Tuesday evening, they’d learned the baby had indeed been born, but the mother had decided she wanted a closed adoption instead of the open one Amy and Rob had sought. The result had been another twenty-four hours of killing time at their parents’ home for Amy and Rob, with periodic updates from their agency and attorney. Savannah drove over both evenings after leaving the ER in Coney and made arrangements to be with them Thursday, and with their parents, she watched Amy and Rob take a risk on another huge loss and heartbreak.
The scenario only drove home her own cowardice.
Finally, after lunch on Thursday, Amy’s phone dinged with a text, and she pressed both hands to her cheeks. “They’re here.”
Under a bright sky, their attorney opened the rear door of her Lexus. “Come meet your daughter.”
A palm over her mouth, Amy leaned down to peer inside. “Oh, my God.”
The awed whisper and the tender support of Rob’s hand at Amy’s waist brought tears to Savannah’s eyes.
Amy brushed at her cheeks. “Can we take her out?”
Laurel Timmons, their attorney and longtime family friend, smiled. “Yes.”
With a sound somewhere between a giggle and a sob, Amy straightened and fluttered both hands. “Rob, you do it. I’m afraid I’ll drop her.”
On a deep chuckle, Rob bent to free the car seat. His chuckle bloomed into rich laughter. “Georgia? You brought her to me dressed in Georgia colors.”
“That was my idea.” With a cheeky grin, Amy pressed into his side, an arm about his waist, and gazed at the tiny infant. “Look at her. She’s perfect.”
From Savannah’s vantage point, she was—wisps of brown hair that matched long dark lashes, minuscule fingers curled against a red and black gingham dress emblazoned with UGA’s big “G” logo. Their mother leaned in to take a better look and sighed. “She looks like a doll.”
“Maybe we should get her in out of the sun.” Their father stepped in as the voice of reason, and Savannah nodded, glad for the redirection before she burst into messy tears.
In the living room, Amy lifted the baby and cradled her with infinite tenderness. With trembling fingers, she straightened the edge of the baby’s dress and touched tiny hands and feet. Rob stroked a fingertip across the infant’s elbow, both of them lost in the wonder of new parenthood. As Laurel reviewed their need-to-know information—a ten-day waiting period in which the birth parents could change their minds and then the necessity of a hearing for the final decree—Savannah found herself having to turn away from the adoration and reverence on Rob’s face as he gazed down at his wife and new child.
Much more, and she was going to lose it for real. The moment was bittersweet—her two favorite people finally holding one of their dearest dreams, but her memory kept dredging up a similar expression on another man’s face, when she’d been the source of that love and amazement.
And a treacherous heart wondered what it would be like to have Emmett look at her like that.
Savannah swallowed hard, her throat hurting. “Does she have a name?”
A smile curved Amy’s mouth. She lifted a tiny finger with her own fingertip. “Hamilton.”
Rob’s middle name. Savannah arched one eyebrow. “Tell me you didn’t name that child Roberta Hamilton, Amy.”
“Of course not.” Pure mischief characterized Rob’s grin. “We named her Savannah Hamilton.”
And at that, she did cry.
* * * * *
Savannah woke from a dream she didn’t remember. Disoriented, she touched her tear-dampened cheek and levered up against the pillows. Moonlight streamed through the gauzy curtains in her girlhood bedroom. She was going to have to get up early anyway to be at the ER on time, but this wasn’t what she had in mind. A familiar male voice murmured from the living room. She dried wet eyes on the sheet and shoved the covers aside.
Barefoot, she wandered down the hallway to find Rob on the couch, Hamilton tucked into one strong arm, her still-newborn-blue eyes locked on his face while he fed her.
“Amy is going to kill you if that’s her first middle-of-the-night feeding and you didn’t wake her up for it,” Savannah whispered and sank onto the couch next to him.
