THE THIRTIETH
As I wake up, I move my good arm above my head, enjoying the feeling of the muscles and tendons stretching out. A night in my own bed was just the tonic I needed. Millie woke up a couple of times during the night for bottles so Taylor got her changed and prepped the bottles before laying her on a cushion beside me so that I could feed her one-handed. But despite the interrupted sleep I have woken up feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world.
Taylor snores softly beside me and when I glance at the Moses basket beside me, I can see that Millie is still fast asleep. I am desperate for a coffee, some real extra-caffeinated coffee, so I slide as gracefully as possible from the bed, adjusting my sling and wincing a little as I feel a tug on the stitches of my C-section incision.
I pad quietly through to the living room relishing the silence and the fact that no one is hovering over me. As lovely as it is having everyone around me wanting to help, after a while it does begin to wear a little thin. By the time I’ve managed to single-handedly make myself up a large latte, using my machine no less, I feel a strange sense of accomplishment. I may be down, but I’m certainly not out.
The rain from yesterday has disappeared and sunlight streams through the skylights, brightening up the large space. I walk through to my little garden, cracking open the windows so that a refreshing breeze floats through the room. I set down my mug carefully, before lowering myself into my wicker chair. It’s still early in the morning, the breeze bringing with it a slight chill so I pull a soft blanket that’s draped across the back of the chair over my legs.
As I sip my coffee slowly, I close my eyes and just simply enjoy the scents and the sounds surrounding me. The slap of bare feet on the slate tiles makes me aware of another presence and I open my eyes to find Stix looking down at me with concern.
While Genevieve had politely declined our offer to stay the night, Stix had insisted she wanted to be around to help with Millie. While Taylor had run his Grandmother home last night, Stix had asked my mother to teach her how to change Bean’s nappy and prepare a bottle for her. It was so sweet, watching the two of them, but I couldn’t help the pangs of jealousy that coursed through me; I should be the one doing it.
“You okay, Abs?” Stix asks quietly.
“I’m fine, lovely. Just enjoying an early morning coffee in the peace and quiet,” I respond with a smile.
“Oh, do you want me to go?” Stix says suddenly looking unsure.
“Not at all. It’s just in the hospital things never seemed to be still. There were always nurses popping in to check on me, even during the night, doctors doing rounds and the noise of other people. Believe me, even posh hospitals are noisy, despite the luxury,” I laugh. “It’s just nice to be, you know?”
“I know what you mean,” Stix comments. “It always feels so peaceful in here.”
“Pull up a pew,” I suggest.
“Cool, just going to make a cuppa. Do you want a refill?” she asks. I tell her that I’m fine and she wanders back through to the kitchen to make herself some tea.
Listening to the sounds of her banging around, I let out a sigh of contentment. I’m home at last. If someone had told me last week that Taylor’s party would have ended with me getting shot and Bean being born by C-section, I would have told them that they were barking mad. Even now the memories have taken on a kind of surreal quality, like the whole thing was just a bad dream. It’s only when I tweak my shoulder or sit funny or try to pick something up that’s a little too heavy that I’m reminded it was in fact very real.
Stix returns with a tray piled high with slices of buttery toast and a pot of tea for herself. “I thought you might be peckish,” she comments as she places the plate where I can reach it.
“Oh, you are amazing, Stix,” I breathe as I help myself to a slice of hot, buttered toast.
“Hmm, something smells good,” Taylor comments as he walks into the room, a very wide-awake Millie cradled in his arms.
“Your sister has been amazing and made enough toast to feed a small army,” I say gesturing to the plate.
“Yum,” Taylor responds, swiping a piece and taking a giant bite out of the slice.
“Gimme,” Stix says holding her arms. “I want to cuddle my niece.”
Taylor gently places her into Stix’s arms and she starts to gurgle excitedly as if recognising her aunt. “She likes me,” Stix coos, placing her little finger into Millie’s and smiling as she grips it tightly.
Taylor comes over to me and drops a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “How are you feeling this morning, Abs?” he asks.
“Getting there,” I respond. “Better than yesterday. The pain is now more of a dull ache rather than the kind of shooting pain that I had been getting. I’ll be glad through when I can finally lift something more than a cup of tea,” I quip.
“One day at a time, Abs,” Taylor responds.
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “At least it wasn’t my right shoulder otherwise I really would be screwed.”
Millie starts to make the little mewling sounds that she makes when she is hungry so Taylor gets up to make her a bottle. When he returns a minute later, Stix insists that she wants to feed her so we let her get on with it. I can’t help but feel grateful to have an extra pair of hands at home, especially as I know Taylor will need to be heading back to the office next week.
While he has tried to reduce the number of meetings he has scheduled, there are some he just couldn’t rearrange. Apart from that he has planned to work from home for the next few weeks popping into the office briefly a couple of times a week. At least with Stix here I won’t have to fend for myself entirely.
The outpouring of support from his staff has been overwhelming for Taylor; if he was ever in doubt of their loyalty, then this incident has shown him just how much they care, for him and for me. Flowers, chocolates and balloons fill the flat and cards adorn every available surface. I guess it’s not every day you watch your boss face off with his evil twin brother armed with a gun. I’m just relieved that the room had been cleared of all the guests by the time Richard actually pulled the trigger. That’s not an image anyone should have to live with.
Taylor and Stix are chatting quietly as Millie guzzles down her milk so I take a minute to watch them. Despite her positive demeanour, I can see all this is affecting Stix and I make a mental note to have a chat with Taylor about getting an appointment with Dr Grohl. First her father’s death, then her mother’s subsequent breakdown and her brother being shot while attempting to kill his twin, seriously no one should have to go through that, let alone a sixteen-year-old girl. She’s practically still a baby herself.
The doorbell chimes and Taylor and I look at each other wondering who it could be. “Um, I hope you don’t mind,” Stix says, suddenly blushing red as she looks down at herself still in her pyjamas. “I asked Chris if he could come over this morning.”
Taylor is already pounding down the stairs and greeting Chris in a friendly voice before Stix can do a thing. A moment later they both appear, just as Millie is finishing off her bottle. I know Stix is embarrassed at being caught out without her makeup and clothes but Chris doesn’t even seem to notice, greeting us with a smile before dropping down beside Stix.
“She’s so cute,” he remarks as he brushes her cheek gently. He doesn’t seem to have any of the awkwardness that I would associate with teenage boys around babies but then I remember Stix telling me that he has a two-year-old brother, a very late addition to the family.
I let out a chuckle and excuse myself as the sudden urge to pee overtakes me, leaving them all chatting about Stix and Chris’ plans for the day.