Warm Embrace

ZACH

Violet and Ella enjoyed a tranquil night. Tyler even took the initiative to help Ella latch onto Violet’s breast whenever she stirred, ensuring a serene night for all of us. Reflecting on it, our first night as parents—still feels odd to say—was less chaotic than Ella’s birth. Her birth was incredibly swift.

I think I’m still in a state of disbelief. I can’t quite comprehend that we’re parents. Damn, it’s been nearly a decade since we embarked on this journey to parenthood. I find myself constantly gazing at her, patting her back, or inhaling her scent just to reassure myself that she’s real. She’s very real and she’s ours. I’m more than okay with that, I’m overjoyed.

I’m snuggling our little princess on the couch. Our little princess. Violet doesn’t want me to refer to her that way. I understand her reasoning, but that doesn’t alter the fact that she’s our princess.

We’ve been here for several hours, allowing Violet to rest. She woke up about twenty minutes ago and now the midwife, Katy, is back. Katy has Violet connected to a monitor and is drawing her blood. She’s also completing registration forms for Ella.

“What’s the little one’s name then?”

“Ella Carlynn Elizabeth Henderson,” Violet responds promptly, munching on one of Catherine’s grilled cheese sandwiches. They’re scrumptious, and even though I’m still upset with her, I request two as politely as I can.

She returns with two sandwiches in less than ten minutes. She hovers over me as I position Ella in the crook of my arm and take a bite of the piping hot sandwich. I lean back and take a hearty bite. Damn, she makes good sandwiches. It’s a bit uncomfortable with her standing over me though. Maybe she wants to know if the sandwiches are good, so I turn to look at her, to thank her again in case she didn’t hear me the first time. But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at Ella with a smile that’s similar to mine, minus the dimples, and a few tears streaming down her face.

I glance down at Ella, who is gazing up at Catherine. Then I look up again. Damn. I guess she might feel like a grandparent, in a way. Maybe?

“Would you like a cuddle?” I ask without thinking. Her eyes meet mine, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water before she wipes away her tears and nods.

“If you don’t mind,” she asks, which makes me want to say I do. That I still haven’t forgiven her for abandoning me, yet sticking around. That I haven’t forgiven her for living with us for so long knowing something that I didn’t… That’s something that haunts me when I have a moment alone to think about it. I thought my birth parents hated me, but I don’t see Catherine hating me, so why did she give me up only to stay around? Ask her. I can’t… now is not the time, but I do hand over Ella, who she takes quickly, pulling her close to inhale her scent.

“She looks like Tyler,” she whispers, “but with your red hair, Violet.”

I watch her cradle our girl as I eat my sandwich. She has the same look my mother had last night. Like Ella could illuminate the world for her, like she was reorienting her world to revolve around Ella.

“They did the DNA swabs. If she’s Tyler’s, we’ll have to be careful so the next one isn’t,” Violet jokes, guzzling a whole bottle of water.

“Well, I don’t mind making another one if it’s as cute as Ella,” I chime in, smiling down at our girl, who is wide awake. Her eyes wander around the room, a little unfocused. Her vision is poor at the moment, but that will change soon.

“Not for another six weeks and we recommend waiting a year before trying again,” Katy interjects, setting down her paperwork and picking up another pile.

“Is it okay to do my checks on Ella now?”

“Sure,” Violet agrees, stealing half of my second sandwich. Cheeky woman. I was going to eat that too.

“I was going to eat that,” I tell her, pulling her up onto the counter and sliding her in front of me so her legs are on either side of mine. She rests her feet beside my thighs on the stool. If only I could push her back and eat her out on the counter right here and now.

“I’m hungry like I’ve never eaten,” she says with her mouth full.

“That’ll be the breastfeeding. How did she do with that last night?” Katy asks and Violet shrugs. She probably doesn’t remember, she slept most of the night.

“Very well. She ate every two-ish hours, slept pretty well between us,” Tyler answers, walking over with a grin on his face.

“You co-slept?” Katy asks, placing a now naked Ella on her scales. Ella starts crying, flailing her arms and legs.

“Yeah,” Tyler answers, giving Violet a peck on the cheek as he pours some coffee into his favorite mug.

“It’s not recommended. If any of you rolled over you could have suffocated her,” Katy scolds, giving us a pointed look. Is she really going to lecture us on something many parents do?

“I never slept. I stayed up all night while everyone else slept,” Tyler tries to reassure her.

“Still, it would be better for a crib to be placed next to the bed. SIDS is a common cause of death in babies under one.”

“It was our first night. Violet was tired, she slept most of the night. I helped Ella feed. She has a crib, we just didn’t need to use it because I was awake...” Tyler explains with a smile on his face, but I can tell it’s forced now. He doesn’t like being told not to co-sleep. To be fair, I enjoyed being able to roll over or sit up just to look at her.

“Are you going to be doing that every night?”

“Doubt it,” he answers tersely.

She’s annoying him, and it’s amusing to see. He’s tired, I can tell, and he’s never in a good mood when he’s tired. I can’t believe he slept this late into the day, but then again, staying up all night for two nights in a row might do that.

“She will be in her crib tonight. I’ll sleep at the edge,” Violet says, looking a bit frightened.

I mean, she probably scared her half to death. I suddenly don’t like this Katy woman. How dare she say things that might scare Violet from doing something with her child? My mother had me and my brother sleeping with her well past the age of two, Daniel until he was nearly five, and we’re both alive.

I sit in a sour mood until Katy leaves us, only speaking again when we’re alone.

“Don’t listen to her, Vi. Ella will be just fine,” I reassure her.

“She’s right though… She should sleep in her own bed.”

“If that’s what you want, baby,” I say, frowning.

She nods, and I grit my teeth, accepting what she thinks she wants.

“My mother, Lynn, and Carl want to come over. Are you up for visitors, or should I ask them to wait until tomorrow?” Tyler asks as he rocks Ella back and forth. God, he looks good holding her. We’ve waited so long to be parents, and it suits him. Her tiny body cradled protectively against his. His eyes sparkling with pure joy and maybe some adrenaline, and a lot of coffee.

“They can come,” Violet says, looking through the fridge, grabbing an apple and taking a bite. “As long as Zach and Callum are okay with it too,” she adds with her mouth full of food.

“I think it’s only fair, considering my mothers have already held her,” I shrug. It’s true. Technically both of my mothers have held Ella. Mothers. Damn, why am I thinking of Catherine as a mother? Violet smirks up at me, not saying anything about my slip-up with the word mothers. And I’m glad because I don’t want to deal with that emotional minefield right now. It was just yesterday that I was being rude to her. I’ll have to talk through these strange feelings with the therapist. Maybe she can help me navigate them. Hell, maybe she can help both of us navigate a new relationship. Do I want that?

“My mom’s been texting nonstop, it would be good to let her over,” Callum says, sounding a bit guarded. I can already tell he’s going to be the overprotective one. Almost like he wants to wrap Ella in bubble wrap for the foreseeable future.

Not even half an hour later, the doorbell rings, and all of our parents, except for Violet’s, are standing in our large living room. Ella is quickly passed into Lynn’s arms by Callum.

“Don’t pass her around too much,” he warns, storming out of the room.

I watch Lynn and Liz stand side by side, cooing down at Ella before I slip out of the room to find him. He’s lounging in the secondary living room, the television humming in the background. I linger in the doorway, observing him for a moment before I gently close the door behind me as I enter.

His head swivels in my direction, eyebrows arching in surprise when he sees me. He probably expected Violet to be the one to join him, but she’s currently engaged in conversation with my mother.

“They’re just excited to meet her,” I explain, settling down next to him. I make sure our bodies are touching at every possible point. Our legs graze each other, and my hand rests on his shoulder, rising and falling with his breaths.

“I get that, but it feels like she’s being passed around like a toy or something,” he retorts, and I can’t help but chuckle. I suppose we do seem that way, but our family is large and she’s the newest addition. A baby that Tyler and I, in particular, have been eagerly anticipating for a long time.

“We have a large family. She’ll never lack for affection, that’s for sure.”

“But what if she doesn’t like being passed around?” he questions, aimlessly flipping through television channels without really watching any of them. It’s clear he’s just trying to distract himself.

“Babies love being held. I promise you, she’d probably dislike being put down more than being passed from one loving family member to another.”

“If you say so.”

“Ava never minded being smothered with love,” I tease, poking his cheek in an attempt to coax a smile out of him. It doesn’t work.

“Did she go through this too?” he inquires, and I can’t help but snort.

“Every child goes through it. People are drawn to babies. You were probably held more than you remember,” I assert, and he finally cracks a smile.

“Am I being overprotective again?”

I nod in agreement. “A little, but maybe I can help you relax,” I suggest, sliding my hand onto his chest. I waste no time in slipping it under his shirt, my fingers tracing the contours of his stomach.

With practiced ease, I unfasten his jeans and slide down the zipper, my hand reaching for his hardness. In no time, I find myself on my knees between his legs, my lips taking him in. I don’t waste any time in bringing him pleasure, and he reaches his peak just as the door swings wide open.

The startled apology from his mother reverberates in the silent room before the door gently closes again.

“Goodness, Zach,” I draw back, my tongue sweeping over my lips.

“It’s fine. My mom has a knack for this,” I try to reassure him, but I can’t hold back my laughter at his stunned face. I have a feeling this is a first for him.