Page 30 of Unexpected Love
She gathers Charlie’s bag and slips a hand over her messy curls. We’re at the end of our first week together and my first full twenty-four-hour shift, followed by the first day of construction at the shop.
I only spoke to Jules once this morning after I got to the shop. She assured me Charlie had a good night and announced that she was pulling a double shift at the Daily Brew because Lissette needed the help.
What’s Lissette going to do when Jules opens her own shop? Not my problem. I have enough of those already.
“She seemed a little off after her nap. Didn’t want to eat a snack.”
I jostle Charlie in my arms and study her face. “You all right, Belle?”
We haven’t had an issue with her not wanting to eat since I figured out what she likes.
“She played just fine, and Jules said she slept well last night. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Nancy reassures.
From the back of the house, shrieks ring out, followed by the clatter of running feet. The older kids are playing a game of chase or something.
In the corner, the twins are playing with cars in what I’ve deemed a baby kennel. I’m told the proper name for it is a play yard. Whatever it’s called, it’s still doing the job of keeping those two wrangled in a safe place. Except, I notice a third little one in the kennel with them this time. One who appears the same age but only has a sprinkling of hair.
“You have another new friend today?”
“Yes, he’s just a drop-in. His parents are teachers, and his grandma keeps him most of the time. She’s a writer on a deadline and needed a couple of extra hours to work on her book, so he’s playing with us for a day or two this week.”
I take Charlie’s pink backpack from Nancy as the kids race by. Despite having a plethora of little kids, she doesn’t look frazzled in the least.
“I don’t know how you do it with this houseful, Nancy. But I sure do appreciate you taking care of my girl.” I’ve made sure to thank her every chance I get. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.
She brushes Charlie’s curls lovingly. “She’s no problem. Such a sweet girl.”
I load Charlie into her car seat and head home. She’s unusually subdued, but maybe she’s needing a quiet moment after leaving that chaos. I don’t blame Jules for needing to get away from it if that’s what it was like all the time.
“It seemed extra loud today, didn’t it, Belle? You okay? Just need a quiet minute?”
The more time I’ve spent with her, the more I just talk to her like a regular person.
There’s no response from the back seat. I glance at themirror I attached to the headrest so I can see her while I’m driving. She’s knocked out. Her head is bent forward, her little fox lying protectively in her lap. My heart cracks. She’s exhausted, but also, I’m scared she’s not able to breathe with her neck bent like it is. After debating whether I should pull over and check on her or speed through every red light, I whip into a parking lot. A soft sigh escapes her as I press her head to the back of the car seat, and my shoulders drop as I finally relax a bit.
She perks up for a moment as we walk into the apartment, but her happiness fades as we move through the bedtime routine. The poor girl is so tired, her eyelids droop closed with each new page of her favorite bedtime story. Closing the book, I move it aside, tucking her favorite stuffed foxy under her arm.
“Night night, Charlie-Belle,” I say.
“Night night,” she parrots weakly, lying splayed in her crib. She must be super tired, because she didn’t move a muscle once I got her sleep sack on and laid her down.
I flip the nightlight and the sound machine on and touch her cheek again before leaving the room. Lately, I’ve been wanting to hover. To check and make sure she’s breathing, or that she’s warm enough.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about Dani and how she could bear to leave this sweet angel behind.
There’s a part of me that dreads when my sister gets her shit together and decides to come back around. As much as I miss the freedom I had before she dumped Charlie on me, I’d miss this peacefulness we’ve settled into in just a few short weeks.
I start from a dead sleep, feeling like something is wrong. My phone reads just after midnight as I lie quietly, listening for any noise that’s out of place, charting my action steps if I hear an intruder.
It’s fucking stupid how protective I am over this tiny little girl who’s upended my world.
A pitiful cry echoes through the apartment. It’s barely audible but sends me to my feet and moving in a heartbeat.
The sound intensifies as I cross the apartment and open the door to find Charlie huddled into a tight ball. The sounds coming from her break my heart.
“Hey, hey, baby girl. It’s okay,” I croon, gathering her to my bare chest. I don’t even care that we’re skin on skin at this point.
“Did you have a bad dream?” It’s times like this that I’d give anything for her to be able to talk to me and tell me what’s wrong.
