Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(92)
“I got it.”
“Then let’s go.”
Our new house still smelled like fresh paint, which I’d read might be harmful for the baby, but Ellie assured me that it had been over a month since I’d covered the seafoam green walls in one of the bedrooms with several coats of soft ivory. That had pretty much been my only job until it was time to put the crib together. Ellie, her mom, and my mother had filled the room to bursting with furniture and pillows and stuffed animals. I mostly just stood to the side and watched as the nursery came together, but I had to admit it turned out nice. I liked that it wasn’t too girly—no frilly lace or bubble gum pink, just neutrals like ivory and light brown and moss green. My favorite thing in it was this giant stuffed giraffe that I’d bought on a whim one day. Ellie had rolled her eyes and sighed, but gamely set it up in one corner next to the bookshelf.
I helped her down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the garage. Opening the car door for her, I was overwhelmed by it all. “Ellie!”
She looked at me with alarm. “What?”
“Do you realize that the next time we pull into this garage we’ll have a baby in that thing?” I pointed to the infant car seat I’d installed in my SUV last week.
She laughed. “I certainly hope so. Because I’m evicting this child from my body today. Enough is enough.”
I held her hand the whole way to the hospital. “So what will we do if she doesn’t look like a Claudia Lupo?”
“She would not dare to come out looking like anything else,” Ellie said confidently. “She and I have had many chats about this.”
I chuckled. “Good.”
“And I promise, as soon as I can think about planning a wedding, I’ll change my name to Lupo too.”
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. We’d gone back and forth about when the right time to get married would be—before the baby or afterward—and finally decided to wait. Our parents had been hoping we’d tie the knot right away, but both Ellie and I were okay deferring it. She deserved the wedding of her dreams, not an emergency affair, and even though our mothers swore up and down it would be elegant and stunning, and they could handle everything, Ellie and I had stuck together and defended our right to do things on our own terms. It was enough for me that she’d said yes and wore the ring on her finger.
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll get married when we’re ready. We don’t have to do things in a certain order or the same way everyone else does—that’s boring.”
She looked over at me and laughed. “We’ll never be boring.”
I smiled and felt like my heart might actually explode—had I honestly ever imagined life could offer a better adventure than this? Starting a family with the person you loved more than anything else in the world? Being so happy there weren’t even words to express it? Feeling so alive you thought you might jump right out of your skin?
My eyes teared up, and I kissed her hand again. I’d never stop being grateful for her.
“Look at my daughter. Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you have ever seen?”
“Gianni, you have to stop saying that to everyone who comes in here,” said Ellie from the bed. To the nurse who’d come in to check her vitals, she said, “Sorry. First-time dad over there.”
“No problem,” the nurse chirped. When she was finished with Ellie, she peeked at the little bundle I held in my arms near the foot of the bed. “Oh, she is a beauty. Look at those huge blue eyes.”
“Thank you,” I said to the nurse. I gave Ellie a triumphant look. “See?”
She sighed.
“Don’t listen to her, Claudia.” I looked down at my daughter’s little face with its chubby pink cheeks and tiny perfect lips and dimpled chin. “You’re the most beautiful baby in the world, and no one will ever convince me otherwise. You’re almost as beautiful as your mommy.”
Claudia looked up at me with those wide blue eyes, blinked once, and went back to sleep. I was tired too—the books weren’t lying about the exhaustion of becoming a parent.
Claudia had been born just before noon yesterday. I’d spent the first night here at Ellie’s side while she labored, and last night I’d spent in the chair by the window. Ellie had told me to go home and get a good night’s sleep in our bed, but I hadn’t been able to leave. Not only did I not want to be separated from them, but I didn’t want to miss anything. I’d already changed my first messy diaper (totally and utterly disgusting), learned how to swaddle (I was actually pretty good at it), and rocked her to sleep (my new favorite thing in the world). I’d stood by while Ellie struggled with nursing, wishing I could be more help, but the nurse reassured Ellie that lots of moms and babies found it a challenge in the beginning and to keep at it. The next few times had gone better.
“If the doctor gives the okay, we can go home later this afternoon,” Ellie said. “I can’t wait to sleep in our bed.”
“Me neither. But it’s kind of weird they’re just going to let us walk out of here with her.”
Ellie laughed. “Why?”
“I don’t know. How can they be sure we’re qualified? I mean, I’m gonna do my best, but I’m still not a hundred percent confident in myself as a father.”