Page 150 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Point taken,” I mutter.
I drive the speed limit all the way home, sometimes even running below it much to the displeasure of other drivers. Luckily, Harlow doesn’t make any comments about my driving.
Pulling into the driveway, I quickly hop out to help her out.
“Thanks,” she says, giving me a tired, but happy smile. “Can you get her out of the car seat and hand her to me?”
I stare at her, startled by this request. “You want me to get her out without protection? What if you fall? Drop her? Trip into a bush?”
She pats my cheek. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I still think I’d feel better taking her inside in the car seat.”
The look she gives me is pure exasperation. Sighing, she says, “If that makes you feel better, then sure.”
Grabbing the bag, I sling it over my shoulder and after struggling to free the car seat from the base for a minute, I finally get it free.
“It would’ve been quicker to hand her to me.” Harlow shakes her head, starting for the door.
“Give me your hand,” I demand. “You’re sore.”
“I’m fine.” She waves me off. “Besides, you have your hands full.”
Despite me wiggling my fingers at her, she ignores my empty hand. Between her and our daughter I’m going to worry myself into an early grave and to think, Monroe can’t do anything but eat, sleep, and poop currently. Inside, we discover the familyroom decorated with pink and purple balloons and a sign that says,Welcome home baby girl!
“Let me see my niece,” Willa demands, sprinting from the kitchen.
I’m happy to see her. I’ve missed my friend, but also, I know how much Harlow wanted her here.
I set the car seat down and unstrap the baby. She seems so fragile when she’s not all swaddled. Her legs are curled up, making her look even smaller. Handing the baby to Harlow I let her show off our baby before she passes her to Willa. Their parents enter the room, watching their girls with their granddaughter.
“Oh, you guys,” Willa croons. “She’s the most perfect baby I’ve ever seen.”
“Isn’t she?” Harlow beams with pride, gently gliding her fingers over Monroe’s sparse blond hair.
“Why don’t you sit down?” I suggest, taking Harlow’s elbow to help her.
She brushes off my hold. “I’m fine. All I’ve been doing is sitting or lying in a hospital bed. It feels good to be up.”
“Are you guys hungry?” Her mom asks. “I made lasagna.”
Harlow doesn’t take her eyes off Monroe when she answers. “Not yet, Mom, but thank you.”
“I’m good, too,” I reply, sliding my hands in my pockets. I feel a little useless, so I decide to move the car seat out into the foyer just for something to do.
“Hey.” I turn at the sound of Harlow’s dad’s voice.
“Yeah?” I look around curiously, wondering why he’s followed me out here.
“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” He shrugs. “Becoming a parent changes everything.”
“I’m good. Mostly just worried about Harlow. I want everything to go smoothly for her.”
He nods in understanding and reaches out, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Spencer. Of the way you’ve stepped up and been there for my daughter and supported her all the way through this. A lot of boys your age wouldn’t have done that, and I’m grateful.”
“I love her, sir,” I reply softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
He pulls me into a surprising hug. “I’m glad to have you as part of our family.”
