Page 144 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I want to be with the baby, but I also don’t want to leave Harlow.
“Go,” she says. “I’m okay.”
Since she insists, I quickly head over to where the nurse is measuring the baby.
“She’s so wrinkly,” I comment, taking in every detail of my child that I can. From her super long fingers to her scrunched nose and tiny feet.
The nurse laughs. “Most newborns are.”
After she’s cleaned up the baby, she swaddles her and sticks a hat on her head.
“Are you ready to hold your daughter?”
Fuck, that question slams into me like a ton of bricks.
“Yeah.” I wonder if I sound as choked up as I feel. “Yeah, I am.”
The nurse deposits my baby girl in my arms and in that moment, I know I’m changed forever. This little girl has my heart. She’s so tiny and perfect and even though I can’t really tellher features yet, I just know she’s going to be the perfect mixture of the two of us.
Carrying her over to Harlow, I pass the baby to her. As much as I want to hold this tiny bundle forever, Harlow deserves it after carrying her for nine months and enduring labor.
“Monroe,” she croons. “My perfect storm.”
“That’s her,” I say and kiss the side of Harlow’s forehead. “Our storm.”
CHAPTER 56
HARLOW
“No, not that dress,” Willa says, sticking her nose up at yet another option I’ve pulled from my closet for dinner on the pier this evening with the whole family.
“What’s wrong with this one?” I groan, looking at the pastel blue dress with flowers on it.
“It’s too busy,” she answers. “Don’t you have something simple that’s actually pretty.”
“Hey,” I groan. “Don’t diss my closet. I haven’t been shopping in a while.”
“Clearly,” she laughs, hopping off my bed. “Let me take a look.”
I sweep my hand to the side, letting her take the lead, since apparently my choices aren’t good enough. She tsks as she flicks through my meager options.
“Ooh,” she spots something in the back. “What about this?”
When she turns around, she’s holding a pastel pink dress.
“Isn’t that a bit much?” I remark. “I haven’t worn that since…”
The one and only Hollywood event I went to with Spencer. It was some sort of dinner gathering at the Waldorf Astoria in Beverly Hills and it ended in disaster.
Why I even kept the dress is beyond me. I suppose with the amount it cost it felt strange to part with it.
“It’ll be perfect for tonight,” she insists. “And let me do your hair and makeup. It’s been so long since I’ve had the chance.”
Even though it’s been years since her transplant, sometimes it’s still surprising to me how different she is. Her disease made her depressed a lot of the time, downright hopeless, but now that she doesn’t have to be on dialysis or anything like that, she’s returned to the bubbly and happy Willa I know from when we were young.
I change into the dress and sit on my bed for Willa to curl my hair. While it’s cooling on rollers she gets started on my makeup.
“I feel like I’m being spoiled,” I remark.
