Page 123 of Love Notes & Lifelines
“How can she go from daredevil to this in the blink of an eye?” he asks. The desire on his face from a second ago is replaced with fear.
“Don’t worry, kids are tougher than us when they’re sick,” I say with a smirk. “Get her dressed. I’ll take care of Emmy then meet you in there.”
He hands me one of his T-shirts he must have grabbed when he showered and I quickly slip it over my head, soaking in the scent of him as it floats to my thighs, and then he’s gone.
Emmy’s lethargic and allows me to dress her quickly in the comfiest set of pj’s I can find.
“All set,” I say. Emmy holds her arms up to me, so I pick her up, hug her close, and cross to Ruby’s room.
Beck sits in the rocking chair with Ruby held high on his chest. Her eyes are open, but her pouty little mouth is silent, a sure sign she’s ill. The only other time she’s quiet is when she’s asleep, and sometimes not even then.
“I’m going to put you down for a minute while I get some medicine and crackers, okay?” Emmy casts her watery gaze in my direction but doesn’t fight me when I set her in the middle of the bed.
Turning to Beck, I say, “I’ll be right back. You okay?”
His eyes tell stories of reverence and love, and it stops me dead in my tracks because I’m experiencing the same thing.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Now,” he adds.
I throw him a small smile, then hurry from the room. There was a shelf in the pantry with baby meds, so I go there first and grab a bottle of Tylenol, the tiny measuring cup that goes with it, and a syringe for Ruby. Then I grab the only crackers I can find and hope they aren’t too stale.
The girls haven’t eaten since snack time, and they need something in their little bellies. Opening the fridge, I search forsomething high in electrolytes, but only find water, milk, and orange juice. I go for the bottles of water.
What else do I need?
“Everything okay, hon?” Lucía asks when she spots me standing frozen in the middle of the room.
“Ah, I don’t know. The girls have a stomach bug or something.” I take a giant step back. “You better not come too close. And maybe you should wipe down the chair on the right side of Mom’s bed. Beck and I were just in there.”
She nods. “Okay. Do you have everything you need there?”
I glance down to my arm full of supplies. “I—I think so.”
“Good. Parenting is hard, and kids get sick, Stella. They’re still building their immune system, but you’re doing everything you’re supposed to. Trust yourself, okay? You’ll make a great mom.”
“I’m not sure I know how to be a mom,” I whisper. “I love my mom dearly, but I didn’t have the healthiest childhood. What if I repeat the patterns I grew up with? What if I’m not wired to be a mom?”
“Oh, Stella. Don’t you see? You already are.” She crosses the room and holds my cheeks in her palms. “Did you know that I raised five kids?”
“Five?” I gulp, and my eyes widen.
She nods. “Twins and a singleton. Then, after a failed vasectomy, another set of twins.”
“Holy crap.”
She grins, pats my cheek, and lowers her arms.
“My point is parenthood is just a series of surprises from the very beginning. No one starts off with a plan they actually stick to. Parenting is often simply herding children to safety until they’re ready to break free and make mistakes on their own time.”
I hug the medicine and crackers to my chest.
“After all my years as a mom and a nurse, I think good parenting boils down to three criteria. Do you love them?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you anticipate and meet or exceed their needs?”
It’s becoming harder to swallow. “I try to.”
