Chapter39
We’d left not too long after and soon, I was inside my house with Dash and our baby girl.
“Your handiwork on the dresses got a lot of compliments,” I told him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if more fathers got asked to help in the future.”
“I actually loved doing something like that for the two of you,” he said, as he carefully took Melitta out of her carrier. He was trying not to wake her as he eased her out of her dress and frilly
socks.
“Be careful with the dress,” I whispered. “I want to save that.”
When he finally got Melitta out of the dress without waking her, he handed it to me and began the difficult process of changing a sleeping baby’s diaper. Dash managed that, too, as she slumbered
“You’re good with her,” I said quietly as I handed him her sleep sack. “I don’t know what you
were worried about, Dash.”
“Not this age, Zinnie. When she gets older,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I know a girl’s relationship with her father is important for her confidence, her self–image and how she relates to men in the future, so I don’t want to make any mistakes with her. And later, when she gets to be a teenager, when I can’t protect her all the time, that terrifies me. I see horrible shit as a doctor, things nobody should go through. It’s unbelievably sad watching what the victims and their families endure. How do I protect her from anything bad ever happening to her, Zin? How?”
Sitting on the edge of the bed as I watched Dash ease our daughter into the sleep sack, I touched his hand, stilling his movements.
“You don’t. You can’t, Dash. We have to equip her for the world, but we can’t protect her from everything. It’s impossible.”
“I know. I know,” he said in defeat. “But look at her, Zinnie. She’s so sweet and innocent, and we
both protect her now. I wish we always could.”
“I do, too, Dash.”
Then, because of the look on his face as he finished zipping Melitta into her sleep sack, I offered
him a bit of an olive branch.
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“I’ve finished the guest bedroom,” I said as he looked over at me. “I’m really tired after tonight, so if you want to spend the night to help out, I’d appreciate it.”
His face brightened like I’d handed him the best gift instead of asking him to lose sleep. “Thank you. I’d love to.“‘
He’d been a huge help. I’d heard horror stories from women whose husbands slept through their newborns crying, but Dash had the hearing of a bat and had come into my room at her first cry, scooped Melitta out of the basinette, changed her and then handed her to me so she could nurse. While she ate, he grabbed some fresh water for me and asked if I wanted a snack before I went
back to sleep.
*_*_*_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the morning, apparently I’d become one of those parents that slept through their baby waking up. Walking into the living area that was open to the kitchen, I smelled fresh coffee and Dash was lying down on the couch, Melitta snuggled to his chest. All he was wearing was boxer briefs, and I’d bet he heard her cry and launched himself out of bed to get to her before she woke me up.
“You did a nice job on the guest bedroom,” he praised me. “It’s really cozy.”
“Thank you, but I feel guilty spending your money on a house you’re not living in while I’m not
working.”
“You’re not working?” he asked me, using those abs to sit up since both hands held Melitta to him. “What do you call taking care of our daughter?”
“You know what I mean, Dash,” I said.
“No, I really don’t. Being a mother is one of the hardest jobs there is, Zin. You don’t get a paycheck for it, but it’s work. You’re seeing to a tiny, helpless being’s every need after carrying her for all those months. You love Melitta, obviously, because anyone could see that, but it most definitely is work. So buy whatever you want to make this house a home. I don’t care what you spend, and I
never have.”
It had taken the first year of marriage for me to realize that Dash honestly didn’t care about how I spent our money. I was mostly frugal — growing up, my mother had questioned me constantly about why I needed new tennis shoes, or clothes, or makeup or a winter jacket. But after we’d gotten married and Dash and I had gone shopping, if I showed him a candle I liked or a serving dish that had a fun pattern, he always put the things I liked in the cart without questioning me.
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“If you want to buy a house, I’d probably like to know about it first,” he’d teased me, “but other than that, spend at will.”
“Thank you,” I said, just as Melitta gave her little cry that let me know she was hungry. It’d been four and a half hours since she’d last eaten, and Dash had just bought me some extra time, so I
knew she was hungry.
I sat down on the couch and held out my arms for her. Dash handed her over, and my eyes focused on his left pec, where there was something that hadn’t been there before.
“You got a tattoo?”
Dash, who swore he’d never get a tattoo, had gotten a tattoo.
He smiled. Melitta squawked. And my head spun, trying to take in the symbolism of his ink.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.