Sleepless Nights

VIOLET

Day one with Tilly was a test of patience. Our own child seemed like a breeze compared to her.

Tears filled the previous day, endless streams of them, until she was so worn out she fell asleep on Zach, her hiccups so forceful in her sleep she nearly bounced off his chest.

We were all at the end of our tether with the incessant crying we hadn’t yet deciphered.

Tilly was likely dealing with separation anxiety, given that all she did from the moment we went to the restaurant was cry and reject food.

By morning, we were all so depleted from staying up all night with Tilly that when she started crying at four past six, Zach and I firmly instructed Tyler to take her downstairs.

He complied, and by the time I woke up at eleven, guilt washed over me for not assisting him, but I was simply too worn out.

And she isn’t even your child.

I woke up before Zach, heading downstairs where Tyler was asleep on the couch with Tilly and Ella resting on their stomachs on his chest.

“Hush,” Callum whispered as I entered the room.

He prepared a sandwich for me and joined me in the dining room to keep me company while I ate.

“Man, that kid could scream for the Olympics,” I remarked as we sat down, sandwich in hand.

“Last night was brutal. Not even our own child keeps us up that much,” he grumbled, his eyes bloodshot from sleep deprivation.

“She’s so young. She probably misses her mom.”

“You mean the mom…who hasn’t called in over twenty-four hours to check on her three-month-old?” I frowned, taking a large bite of my sandwich.

“Maybe she’s busy?” Maybe she doesn’t care. Maybe this is as hard for her as it is for Tilly. Maybe she’s doing the right thing. Maybe she isn’t. Maybe she just wants Tyler to be her child’s father because he’s a good man, or maybe she thinks he owes her for ruining her relationship.

“You should never be too busy for your own child, Vi.”

Yeah, I know, but maybe she doesn’t.

“Maybe she hasn’t had any time to stop, or maybe it’s easier for her not to call because she misses her. Maybe this is how she wants it,” I suggested.

It can’t be easy to return to work after only having twelve weeks with your newborn, right?

I couldn’t fathom going to work with Ella so young, and I’m thankful that all of my boys have flatly refused to consider such a thing.

Callum sighed into his coffee.

“I didn’t think about that. Maybe it is easier to have a clean break rather than calling every five seconds.”

I finished my sandwich in silence before one of the girls started to fuss.

We hurried to the lounge to find Ella rooting on Tyler, looking for something to drink.

I picked her up, lifting my loose tank top and offering her my right breast that I’d neglected to put in a bra.

“Can you pop the Hakka on my left one?”

“How do I do that?”

“Squeeze it, align it with my nipple and let go.” He did just that, and it suctioned on perfectly the first time.

I walked to the sofa and sat on the corner by Tyler’s head.

Both of them were still sleeping soundly, and despite myself, my heart swelled a little at seeing them fit so perfectly together.

“Can I have my phone, Cal?” He retrieved my phone from the kitchen, and I snapped a few photos of Tyler and Tilly, then selfies of myself and Ella before I called Carla.

She answered on the second ring, as always.

“Violet, how are you all, my dear?” She sounded breathless, like I’d caught her at an inconvenient time.

“We are tired. Tilly isn’t much of a sleeper, unfortunately,” she chuckled, though I didn’t find what I said amusing at all.

“Oh, that’s terrible, dear. What… What can I do for… oh. You?” I stifled a laugh.

Was my mother-in-law engaged in a sexual act while I was on the phone with her? And at her age.

Swallowing my laughter, I tried to sound serious and get my words out quickly.

“I wanted to ride Black. Would it be okay if we all came over this afternoon?”

It sounded like she pulled the phone away from herself as she swatted someone in the background, but I tried not to dissect the sounds too much.

“Yes. Yes, dear. In an hour would be okay.” She hung up, and I burst out laughing, waking Tyler up.

“What’s so funny?” Callum asked from the kitchen.

“I think Jerry and Carla are just fine,” I exclaimed.

Tyler gave me a knowing smile before closing his eyes again.

“It was only a matter of time. They’re both as bad as Zach,” he whispered quietly.

“Yeah, I just realized,” I said, laughing quietly this time.

Tyler fell back asleep after my disturbance, so we left him until we were ready to leave the house.

Tilly also stayed asleep, and I placed Ella back on his chest when she had finished eating.

The three of them looked content on the sofa, and I found myself taking photos from different angles while waiting for Zach to come down from his shower.

“She finally gave in then?” he asked from the coffee machine, sounding as tired as I felt, though he slept in way longer than I did.

“Yeah, apparently.” I smiled at him, walking over to stand right beside him.

He lifted me up, placing me on the counter before pushing his way between my legs.

Our faces fell toward each other’s before our lips met in a tender kiss.

I sighed as he pulled away, not content with the brief contact.

“Later maybe, I’m far too tired,” he whispered against my neck.

“Will you ride with me? I’d like to get acquainted with Black again.” His lips paused momentarily, then continued their descent down my neck to my collarbone.

“Sure, I’ll call my mother.”

“I already did.” He chuckled against my skin, sending tingles right to my groin.

Swinging my legs, I wrapped them around his hips, pulling him in.

“Of course you did. I should get my mother to order you some riding gear of your own.”

“That would be a good idea,” Callum noted from somewhere behind us.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind borrowing the hat.”

“You need your own things,” Zach tried to convince me.

“Then I’ll access my money and pay for it myself.”

“So you’ve decided?”

“No, no I haven’t, but I can’t keep relying on you three.”

“We make plenty—besides, I’d rather you rely on our money than his.” He stroked my cheek, pulling back from me.

I think I hurt him by mentioning the money and inadvertently mentioning Henry too.

“Apparently, the money is from my mother and grandmother.”

“Is that any better?” he asked in a tone that I’d never heard him use.

No, having money from the woman that sold me isn’t any better, but that’s who the money is from, and there must be a story behind why she deposited money for me in the first place.

A story that maybe I’m willing to listen to...

Maybe.