Page 102 of The Game Plan
Savannah was quiet the whole drive. Her head rested against the window, and she claimed she had a headache. As much as I want to believe her, she just seemsoff. It’s the kind of mood shift that hazard lights flashing above her head are telling me to trust my gut on this one.
I carry the car seat deeper into the house with a sleeping Lennon as I place a hand on Sav’s lower back, guiding her beside me. Her blue eyes look at me, and they’re dull, almost lifeless. She’s here, but nothere.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to her temple. “Love you, Peach.”
She gives me a soft, barely-there smile. I don’t have a chance to press matters before Mom comes around the corner.
“There’s my beautiful daughter and my sweet grandbaby!” Mom envelops Savannah in a hug, catching Sav off guard. Pulling away, my mom bends down, resting her hands on her knees as she admires my little Lemon.
“She’s so beautiful, Savannah,” Mom gushes.
“Thank you, Mrs. Campbell.”
Mom gives Sav a look and gently taps her arm. “Please, you know to call me Emily.”
Savannah nods, and I shift the car seat to my other hand. “Would you like to hold her?”
“Would I? Kids, if I ever decline, send me straight to the nursing home. I’d love to hold my grandbaby.”
Mom scoops Lennon up, cradling her like she’s made of glass, cooing in baby talk—the worst—before leading her toward the recliner. Dad steps in through the patio doors, smiling at us before glancing over at his wife. A gentle smile warms his face as he admires his wife and our daughter.
My dad might be a tough sonofabitch on the football field, but I’ve never seen a grown man cry the way he did when he met his granddaughter.
We’ve been in this stuffy hospital room for nearly two days. Settling deeper into the padded rocker, my daughter’s soft breath fans across my chest. She’s nestled in her Velcro swaddle like a baby burrito, a soft cap covering her light brown hair. It feels like she’s anchoring herself to me in the same way I need her.
The harsh hospital lights are off as the afternoon sun streams through the semi-closed blinds. Behind me, Sav is in bed, her face swollen, but peaceful as she drifts in and out of consciousness. My beautiful wife is thoroughly exhausted and deserves every moment of peace she can get.
I can’t stop staring at them both. My two girls. My whole world.
A soft knock breaks the stillness. Glancing toward the door, expecting another nurse to come in and disrupt Savannah, I’m taken aback by the sight of my parents.
My mom’s face fills the open space between the door and the wall. She clutches a giant gift bag in one hand as she steps inside slowly. Her eyes sweep over the room before landing on the bundle of pink in my arms, and she visibly swoons.
“Hey,” I whisper.
Mom glances over to where Sav is sliding up the bed. “Sorry, we won’t stay long.”
Sav waves them off. “You’re fine. Would you like to meet your granddaughter?”
Mom nods, smiling through her tears. “We would love that.”
I shift, lowering Lennon from my shoulder to cradle in my arms. Her face squishes in a little purse as she wiggles, never opening her eyes.
“Oh, she is beautiful,” Mom coos as she comes closer, her gaze never leaving Lennon.
“Would you like to hold her?”
Mom looks at Sav. “Can I?”
Savannah smiles and nods. I carefully stand, allowing Mom to take my seat. I transfer Lennon into my mother’s arms as tears stream down her face. “Lennon, meet your grandma.”
“Everything about her is perfect.”
Dad claps me on the back as my eyes lock on my hero, my biggest supporter, my role model. “Congratulations, Son.”
I swallow hard and watch my dad brush a gentle thumb over my daughter’s cherub cheeks. He doesn’t say much at first, as if he’s memorizing every detail of her. I know the feeling; I’ve found myself doing the same thing a time or twenty since she was born.
Giving my parents a moment with their first grandchild, I lean down to pick up the gift bag at Mom’s feet. “That’s a little something for Lennon and Savannah.”
