Just trust me.

Until next week…

Love,

Andrew

I look up from the letter in my hand, letting it rest on the bed at my side, clasped in my fingertips. Lily is sound asleep next to me in the hospital bassinet. It took some convincing by Andrew before I finally agreed to lay her in it instead of just holding her throughout the night. But I did wake up often to check if she was still breathing. I check again now. I can’t help it; I’ll probably do that for months.

Finally, I fold Andrew’s letter again into the same worn creases. He probably thinks that I’ll stop reading it now that Lily has been born. But I won’t. I never stopped reading the first letter he ever wrote me, but he doesn’t know that. Some things I keep to myself.

“Ready to put those destinations into that hat?” Andrew asks.

I wonder how long he’s been awake. I look over at him and smile. “Let’s wait a few months.”

He nods and rises from the chair.

“How did you sleep like that?” I ask. “You should’ve gotten on the couch.” I glance at the small couch next to the window.

Andrew stretches his arms out at his sides and then pops his back and his neck. He doesn’t answer.

“I guess we can finally get all of that stuff from the first baby shower at my mom’s and bring it to the house,” I say.

Andrew smiles mischievously.

“Wait… you already did it, didn’t you?”

He stands up and stretches some more. “Technically, not me. Yesterday, Natalie, Blake, and your mom took everything over there after we left for the hospital and they’ve already set it all up.”

I never wanted to do that during the pregnancy. It was just another way of worrying about getting ahead of myself and then miscarry all over again. Same reason I refused to know the sex of the baby before she was born. I didn’t want to focus or depend on any of that stuff like I did before. I thought it might jinx it. Andrew didn’t really agree with it, but he never said anything or tried to convince me otherwise.

“And, as you can probably imagine,” he goes on, “since Michelle and my mom are in town, there’s a lot more than just the baby shower gifts waiting for you when you get home.”

* * *

The next day, when Andrew opens the front door of our house and I walk in with Lily in my arms, I see right away that he was right about that, too. The house is immaculate. I never could’ve cleaned it like this myself. As Andrew walks me through the living room toward the hallway, I glimpse one baby monitor on the kitchen bar as I walk by, one on the living room coffee table, one on the counter in the bathroom, and, finally, one in Lily’s room when I step inside.

I gasp with wide eyes. “Oh wow, Andrew, look what they did!”

Lily stirs in my arms, probably from the excitement in my voice, but quickly she becomes still again.

The baby bed is set against one wall with a cute Winnie the Pooh musical mobile hovering over the top. A matching chest of drawers and changing table sits against the wall by the window. Andrew opens the drawers to reveal that each one is full of clothes and receiving blankets and burp cloths and little socks and other various things. He opens the closet and I see dozens of little dresses and outfits. So many packages of diapers are stacked against the wall near the changing table that I feel like we’ll never have to buy diapers ourselves. Of course, I know that’s just wishful thinking.

Andrew takes me back out into the hall and opens the closet next to the bathroom to show me the brand-new walker and baby swing and some strange play-gym thing, all still in the boxes they came in.

“I’ll have to put them together when she’s ready for them,” he says. “But that’ll be a little while.”

“Think you can manage that all by yourself?” I joke.

He raises his chin and says, “Without even reading the directions.”

I just laugh inside.

Then he takes me into our room. There’s a white bassinet next to the bed on my side.

“I bought that for you,” he says, smiling proudly. “I know you won’t be ready to put her in the room by herself for a long time, so I figured you’d need it.”

He’s blushing. I step right up to him and kiss the side of his mouth. “You were right,” I say. “Thank you.”

Lily starts to stir again, and this time she wakes up. Andrew takes her from me. “I’ll change her,” he says.

I pass her over and lie down across our bed and watch him. He lays her down on our bed, too, and unwraps her from the receiving blankets. The cutest yet loudest cries come from her tiny lungs. Her little arms and legs move stiffly back and forth. Her whole head turns beet red. But Andrew doesn’t flinch. And when he opens her diaper he doesn’t gross out at the surprise she left him. I admit I’m surprised at how easily he’s already taken to being a daddy.

* * *

I started back at Bath and Body Works after my maternity leave was over, but now I’m only on a part-time shift. My boss, Janelle, is awesome, and she likes me so much that she gave me a one-dollar raise when I told her I was expecting. Only me and Natalie work there now; Natalie is full-time and she picks up a lot of my slack since I’ve been off the past six weeks. But she doesn’t mind. Says she’s saving for a place of her own. She and Blake seem to be really be into each other every time I see them together. Truthfully, I’ve never seen Natalie this happy before. I thought she was happy when she was with Damon, but I’m realizing all that must’ve been was tolerance and low self-esteem. Blake is different. I think they just might make it.

Andrew has been working for an auto body and mechanic shop since about three weeks after we moved into our house. His knowledge of cars really earned him a great spot on the payroll. He’s definitely making way more money than me, but he tries to make me feel better about that by saying: “This ain’t shit compared to you pushing my baby girl through your—” I stop him right there each time.

Not necessary, Andrew. But thanks!

Child care is pretty much only for rich people, in my opinion. Honestly, I don’t see how anyone working a minimum-wage job can afford child care. They’d be working just to pay it, which makes no sense. But aside from that, Andrew and I both agreed that we don’t want to leave our daughter in the care of strangers, anyway. So, I worked it out with Janelle that I work only part-time shifts in the evenings when Andrew is home and every other weekend.

We’ve been living well and pulling everything off as though we’ve been doing it this way our whole lives. We may have six figures in savings, but we are no strangers to putting back as much as we can from our earnings and spending as little as possible. Other than our day jobs, Andrew and I have been playing gigs pretty consistently, every other Saturday night when I’m not working, at a bar that Blake’s brother Rob opened up in town. Something happened with the Underground and Rob had to shut it down. Rumor is that Rob narrowly avoided a jail sentence. I’m guessing it had to do with him not having a bar license, I don’t know. But Blake is manager of the new bar now, and on the nights that Andrew and I perform there we get half of the cover charge, which is more than we’ve ever made playing at any bar other than Aidan’s. Last Saturday, we raked in eight hundred bucks.

It’s just more cash flow for our savings and our future plans to go wherever that hat tells us to go.

And although Andrew will always put his heart and soul into every performance, like he always has, I can tell now that when we’re up on that stage together that he just can’t wait to be finished so we can pick Lily up from my mom, or whoever is lucky enough to have her for those few hours at night.

Andrew is so great with Lily. He never ceases to amaze me. He gets up in the middle of the night about as much as I do to change her diapers, and sometimes he even stays awake with me when I feed her. He has his guy moments, too, so he’s not entirely Mr. Perfect. Apparently, he’s not fully immune to crappy diapers, and just this morning I caught him gagging while trying to change her. I laughed, but I felt so bad for him that I couldn’t help but take over. He left the room with the neck of his shirt pulled over his mouth and nose.

And… well, I don’t really want to get too ahead of myself with the assumption, but I think Lily may have softened Andrew so much that he might actually like Natalie now. Maybe just a little. I don’t know, but whenever Nat is over, holding Lily and making Lily smile by talking to her with that animated personality of hers, Andrew seems OK with it. By the time Lily is three months old, I honestly can’t remember the last time Andrew called Natalie a hyena behind her back, or gave me that exasperated look when he knew she wasn’t looking.

He still cringes when she refers to herself as Lily’s godmother, but… baby steps. He’ll come around.

Andrew

39

February 9—Lily’s first birthday

“Aidan and Michelle are here!” I hear Camryn say from the living room.

I fasten the last button on the back of Lily’s dress and then take her by the hand. But she doesn’t like it when I hold her hand and always wiggles it away and grasps my index finger instead.

“Let’s go, baby girl,” I say looking down at her. “Uncle Aidan and Aunt Michelle are here to see the birthday girl.”

I swear she knows what I’m saying.

She squeezes my finger as tight as she can, giggles, and takes one big step forward, as if I’m not fast enough to keep up. With my back arched over, I take fast half steps as we shuffle down the hallway, letting her run on her chunky little baby legs out ahead of me. When she starts to fall as she rounds the corner, I grip her hand, lift her slightly off her feet, and let her get her balance again. She started walking at ten months old. Her first word was “Mama” at six months. At seven months she said “Dada,” and I melted when I heard her call me that the first time.

And Camryn was right—she’s got my green eyes.

“Lily!” Michelle says all dramatic-like, squatting down to Lily’s level and wrapping her up in her wide arms. “Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She kisses her cheeks and her forehead and her nose, and Lily cackles uncontrollably. “Nom nom nom!” Michelle adds, pretending to eat her cheeks.

I look over at Aidan, who has my nephew, Avery, attached to his hip. I reach out for him, but he’s shy and recoils toward Aidan’s chest. I back off, hoping he doesn’t start crying. Aidan tries to coax him.

“Is he walking yet?” Camryn asks, standing next to me.

Michelle follows Lily into the living room where a plethora of pink and purple helium balloons are pressed against the ceiling. When Lily realizes she can’t reach the balloons, she gives up and goes straight over to her stack of presents on the floor.

Aidan hands two wrapped gifts to Camryn, and we all join Michelle and Lily in the living room. Camryn sets the gifts next to the others.

“He’s been trying,” Aidan answers about Avery’s walking progress. “He holds on to the couch and walks alongside it, but he hasn’t quite got the urge to let go yet.”