Songbird (44 page)

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Authors: Sydney Logan

BOOK: Songbird
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Either way, it’s heaven.

As Callie’s due date approaches, she’s become increasingly uncomfortable with just about everything. She’s been having trouble sleeping because she can’t get comfortable, and sitting doesn’t help because of the pain that’s started in her lower back. She’s rarely content, and as the man who put her in this discomfort, it kills me that I can’t do anything to make her feel better. Dr. Clifton tells us these are just the “joys” of the last trimester, but as terrible as Callie feels, I have a feeling Elizabeth Shyann may be an only child.

Tonight’s definitely been a challenge. Her lower back has ached all day. Even my massages did nothing to relieve her of the pain. She finally falls asleep on the sofa just before midnight. I don’t have the heart to wake her, so I wrap a blanket around her and kiss her forehead before heading into the study to work on a brief. The living room and my office are on the same level of the house, so I take comfort in the fact that I’m close by in case she needs me.

An hour passes, and I’ve barely made a dent in my brief when my eyes start to grow heavy. Stifling a yawn, I check my email one last time. I’m just getting ready to log out when I hear soft footsteps against the hardwood floor. I look up to find Callie in the doorway.

“Hi, baby.”

“Baby.” She nods slowly. “I think . . . yeah. Baby.”

“Baby? As in,
baby
?”

“I think. I mean, I’m pretty sure—”

I spring out of my chair and rush to her side.

“Devin?”

“Callie?”

“I think my water just broke.”

 

 

“Deep cleansing breaths, baby.”

I struggle for air. How pathetic is it that my beautiful wife—who’s lying in a hospital bed waiting to bring our baby into the world—is coaching
me
on how to breathe?

Is this what an anxiety attack feels like?

We’ve been here eight hours, and with each passing minute, my ability to think rationally fades just a little more. Callie, of course, is the epitome of calm.

Epidurals are God’s gift to mothers. Why can’t they make something for the fathers?

Just then, another contraction registers on the machine. My wife, however, doesn’t make a sound. She just closes her eyes and squeezes my hand, breathing slowly and deeply until it passes.

“How are we doing?” Dr. Clifton walks in and checks the machine.

“I’m okay,” Callie says as she crunches on ice. “I think Devin could use a drink, though.”

The doctor does a quick examination before grinning up at me. “We’ll get you a drink afterwards. She’s fully dilated. Are we ready to do this?”

Callie grips my hand tightly.

“Remember, Devin. You work up there. I work down here.”

I nod lamely and brush a lock of hair away from Callie’s face. At this point, I’m just happy to be given instructions that make sense in my muddled brain. From this point on, our lives will never be the same, and despite my nervousness, I’m actually really okay with that.

“Do you know how much I love you?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

With a quiet sigh, she nods.

“Okay, Callie,” Dr. Clifton says. “You can push.”

And with those words, our world changes forever.

 

 

“You can’t leave me,” I whisper softly into the brown eyes I love so much. Shyann smiles weakly, trying to be strong as I fall apart. The doctors say it will be soon, but I refuse to believe them. I lay my head against her pillow. It’s all I can do not to climb into her hospital bed and hug her tightly to my chest.

“Listen to me,” my sister says softly. “I want you to graduate. Go to college. Be happy and healthy.”

“Not without you
 . . .
” My voice shakes, because I have no idea how to exist without her. We’ve always been Devin and Shy. Shy and Devin.

“You love me so much. I love you, too. But you have to let me go, Devin.”

“I don’t know how.”

Her smile is serene. “I’ll send you someone new to love.”

“I don’t want someone new to love.”

Shyann’s face is pale, but so angelic. “I’ll send you someone new to love, and she’ll have your brown eyes.”

“Our brown eyes,” I whisper.

“Our brown eyes.”

That was the last conversation I ever had with my sister. It’s been years since I even thought about it, but as I gaze down at my beautiful baby, Shyann’s final words weave their way into my mind. I’d forgotten her promise to send me someone new to love, but as I rock my brown-eyed daughter in my arms, it’s undeniably clear that my sister kept her word.

“Your eyes?” Callie asks hopefully.

I smile and place our baby on her mother’s chest.

“My eyes.”

My beautiful wife smiles and cuddles our daughter close. There’s a flurry of activity behind us, but it’s all so easy to ignore. The three of us exist in our little bubble of whispered words and tender kisses.

“Look at her, Songbird.”

As if on cue, our five-minute-old child opens her eyes.

Callie laughs softly. “See? Such a Daddy’s girl.”

“And to believe there was a brief moment when I wished she wasn’t mine.”

“You didn’t mean it. You were just scared.”

“I’m
still
scared. But I’m not afraid to be her father.”

“What are you afraid of?”

I slide my fingertip along our baby’s soft cheek. “Failing her. Failing you.”

“You won’t, Devin. I know you won’t. You love us too much.”

The nurse checks on us one last time before everyone finally leaves us in peace. I know our family is waiting in the lobby, and I need to let them know all is well, but I just can’t tear myself away.

“Thank you, Callie.” I envelop my wife and baby in my arms.

Callie smiles at me and kisses my wet cheek. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For you.” I lean in and kiss our baby’s forehead. “And for her.”

“T
hank you. I really did want to try.”

It’s true what they say. Modesty is long gone after the birth of a baby. The general mechanics seemed easy enough, but Beth had been stubborn, so I called Grandma for assistance.

“You’re very welcome. Sometimes babies have trouble breastfeeding at first, but she’s doing wonderfully.” Valerie smiles adoringly at her grandchild in my arms. “I’m going to head on home.”

“You can stay.” I probably don’t sound too convincing. I just can’t tear my eyes away from my baby long enough to have a normal conversation with anyone.

“Take this time to bond with that beautiful girl. We’ll come visit tomorrow.”

She smiles and kisses both of us on the cheek before walking over to where her son is fast asleep in the chair. Valerie adjusts his blanket and kisses his cheek, too, before whispering goodnight and closing the door behind her.

While Beth eats, I close my eyes and try to relax.

What an amazing day.

Our entire family had surrounded us all day. Dad had broken multiple speed limits to get to the hospital just in time for the baby to arrive. Later in the day, our friends arrived. None of them really stayed too long, but the constant stream of loved ones made it impossible for either of us to get much rest. Now, in the quiet stillness of the hospital room, I can finally do the one thing I’ve wanted to do all day.

I get to stare at my baby.

The nurses are still stunned, since apparently most newborns are born with blue eyes. Even Dr. Clifton warned us that Beth’s eye color might change within the next few months. Time will tell if she inherits my blonde hair, but Devin and I both believe the brown eyes are here to stay.

I hum a few bars of Van Morrison’s
Brown Eyed Girl
until I finally remember the words. While I sing, Beth keeps eating, and I breathe a sigh of relief that our baby has a good appetite. That day in the baby store, the mere thought of breastfeeding had made me nervous, but now, I can’t imagine not doing it.

“I love to hear you sing,” Devin whispers from his chair. “Perfect song, too.”

I smile sheepishly as I switch the baby to the other side. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that.” He folds the blanket before walking over to our bed. Leaning down, he kisses both of us. “Or this. I see she finally decided to cooperate.”

“Finally. Well worth the initial frustration.”

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