Maybe Baby: One Small Miracle. Nikki Logan
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so young, so in love—so blind and wilfully stupid. Missing every sign, she saw them now—but what she couldn’t see was any way to fix them.
And in the warm, wet half-darkness of the deserted verandah, Jared finished the sentence she’d interrupted. ‘I don’t think I can ever tell you in words how much you mean to me.’
Then he turned and walked into the driving rain. The animals, practise the words again on the animals. I love you, Anna.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SOME time before dawn, grizzling screams made Jared jerk awake in his bed. Melanie sounded distressed. He pulled on the pyjama pants he hadn’t bothered with before, and moved to the room Anna shared with the baby. A crack of brightness beneath the door showed the light was on.
He waited a few moments to see if Anna could get the baby under control, but when the crying grew more indignant, he opened the door very quietly.
Anna was holding the baby over her shoulder, rocking her back and forth, patting her downy little head and whispering, ‘Come on, sweetheart, sleep time, it’s sleep time …’ Two empty bottles and a wet disposable nappy lay on Anna’s bed. Anna was pale, with black rings beneath bleary eyes, and a deeper distress coming from her failure as Melanie screamed afresh.
She must be exhausted, he thought with a shot of tenderness and self-recrimination. Had the baby cried earlier, tonight or the night before, and he’d missed it?
‘Give her to me,’ he said softly, so he didn’t startle her.
Anna blinked and stared at him, blinking over and over.
‘What?’
Compassion filled him. Exhaustion was written over her face like an unspoken poem. ‘How long has she been crying?’
She frowned, patting the baby’s bottom through the nappy. ‘I don’t know. What time is it now?’
He checked his watch. ‘Nearly five.’
She sighed and patted Melanie again as she wailed. ‘Oh. Um. About three or four hours. I think it’s her teeth, but there’s no paracetamol or anything for her in the baby bag Rosie gave me.’ She swayed on her feet.
‘You need to sleep,’ he said gruffly. ‘Give her to me.’
He saw the torn look in her eyes—did she admit failure for the need of sleep? Then her expression became one of pure longing. She needed sleep that badly.
He felt the storm of anguish, loss and fear of losing her again, raging in him for two days, quiet and still as he waited. Anna needed him now, but she needed to recognise it herself.
‘Has Melanie been waking every night?’ When she hesitated and nodded, he chided gently, ‘You should have called me.’ He’d always managed on four to five hours’ sleep a night. Anna had never coped without a full eight hours.
He saw it again, the longing for rest, the fear of failure. ‘It’s not your problem …’
About to take the baby from her anyway—Anna was swaying on her feet—he saw the word mistake flashing at him in neon letters, and he kept his distance. ‘If Rosie goes through with the adoption, the adoption people will need to see I’m comfortable with her, and vice versa. That’s not going to happen if you do everything—and they won’t think much of us as a family for her if you’re falling down with tiredness. Let me help you, Anna. Please,’ he added, with the melting tenderness filling him.
She blinked again and shook her head, as if doubting her ears. Had it been so long since he’d asked anything of her, let alone said ‘please’? He couldn’t remember.
Then she nodded, handing the baby to him. ‘Thank you.
She’s had two bottles already, and she has a clean nappy,’ she whispered, falling asleep standing up. ‘Wake me in an hour …’
With a hand at her back he turned her around, and helped her onto the bed. She was asleep before she hit the pillow.
Then he realised the wails had stopped. He looked at Melanie, and saw the flushed face wet from crying, the star-blue eyes looking at him in pleading and trust. Help me.
Resent her as he had for taking Anna’s focus from their marriage, taking her love from him, never in his life had Jared been able to resist a cry for help. Anna deserved the rest, and Melanie was so little, so helpless.
He gathered her up, grabbed a clean bottle, a spare nappy and cleaning stuff from the bag, and slipped back outside the door, closing it behind him. He carried her through to the kitchen, and automatically filled the kettle with water for a bottle—and a coffee. ‘Now what’s wrong, little one?’ he asked softly as he jiggled her on his shoulder.
As if in answer, Melanie began crying again, pulling on her ears in obvious pain … and it came to him, a memory floating up from nowhere. ‘Are those nasty teeth bothering you?’ he crooned, trying to think. His mother had always given the kids baby paracetamol or some herbal drops. He didn’t have either here, and Anna said there were none in the bag. If he didn’t stop her crying soon Anna would wake up and try to take over.
He handed the baby a teething rusk, but knew that, though she gurgled happily as she bit down hard with her gums, it was only a temporary measure. She needed pain relief to return to sleep. He changed her nappy again and put her pyjamas back on, knowing he was running out of time.
He needed expert help here, and there was only one person he knew who had both the knowledge of babies and could be trusted to keep their secret, no matter what. He picked up the phone and dialled Lea’s number.
Within moment’s Lea’s voice, rough and growly with sleep, answered. ‘This had better be good, West.’
She’d obviously checked caller ID—and Lea always called him West when she was in a mood. He grinned, liking it as usual, but got to the point. ‘I need to know, without questions asked, what I can use to stop a baby’s teething pain. I don’t have paracetamol for babies or the herbal drops Mum used. Anything I can use that’s in the cupboard?’
‘A baby?’ Lea wasn’t asking, she was demanding to know—same old Lea.
‘I don’t have time now, Lea. If I don’t help her soon, she’ll start crying and wake Anna, and she hasn’t slept properly in days.’
‘Anna? She’s back with you?’
Melanie was beginning to grumble. Jared gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Can we do this at some decent hour, Lea? I’ll call you some time tomorrow and give you the story. Right now I have a crying baby, and I need my question answered. The poor kid’s in pain here.’
‘She needs chamomile,’ she answered promptly, having picked up on the one ‘she’ he’d used regarding Melanie. ‘Use tea bags if you don’t have drops. Add a touch of honey—just a bit—or she’ll spit it back out. It doesn’t taste the best.’
‘Drops?’ he asked, feeling stupid—then a thought occurred to him. If Anna hadn’t known what they were for. He put Melanie down and ran back to the room, grabbed the baby bag and ran out before he could disturb Anna. ‘What would they look like?’ he asked, rummaging in the bag while Melanie screamed louder.
‘Boy, she really needs help.’ Lea’s voice was filled with sympathy for the baby’s pain. ‘They’re usually in a little dark bottle with a squeeze-top dropper. You put a few drops in watered-down juice—the water has to be boiled first.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he mumbled as he started tossing out stuff that wasn’t what he needed; he knew the water needed boiling. In a little, sealed separate bag, he found a small dark bottle, and held it up to read—’Thank heaven,’ he muttered, ‘I’ve got the chamomile drops. Can I add it to the formula?’ he asked, wondering if they had any tetra bricks of juice left. The nearest store was two hours’ flight away, and juice wasn’t his thing. He drank coffee and beer.