An Act of Persuasion(99)

But she hadn’t been alone. She had Ben. Ben wouldn’t leave her or their daughter. Anna got that now. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

An hour later she was actually sitting up in bed, although her stitches burned across her middle. When she asked to pee the nurse helped her out of bed and told her to walk bent over until she felt more comfortable. The way Anna felt right now, that would be for life.

Slowly, cautiously, she made it back into the bed. After a few bites of gelatin and some sips of orange juice, she felt nearly human. Certainly ready to see her baby.

The door to the room swung open and the sight of the tiny bundle in Ben’s strong arms had her weeping immediately.

“Don’t be alarmed, baby girl. But you should know in advance your mother is a crier.”

Anna could only cry harder. Then Ben was placing her daughter in her arms and the world condensed to only Ben and her baby. “She’s so tiny.”

“A bit early on arrival, but making up ground. It means she’s scrappy.”

Anna pulled the blanket back and counted fingers and toes and touched lips and ears, taking in every inch of her little girl as she slept peacefully, only twitching her lips every so often as if she was dreaming about eating.

“So what’s it going to be? We need a name. Don’t tell me Gertrude because, even knowing what you went through, I still won’t cave on that.”

A name floated through her mind. Like coming from a dream she’d once had.

“Kelly. I think we should name her Kelly.”

“Kelly Summers-Tyler. I like it.”

“No,” Anna said, even as she brushed a finger against her delicate cheek. “Just Kelly Tyler.”

His silence spoke volumes. Anna tore her eyes away from her daughter and saw his deep blue eyes looking at her, wondering.

“Don’t ask me today. I’m not ready. I have to do something first. But I promise you, Ben, I’ll let you know when I am.”

“Okay.”

“But I was thinking...it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you moved in with us. I mean, I can already see you like her. You’ll probably be hanging around all the time anyway. As long as you agree to put your beige man couch in the basement.”

“My own man cave with my own man couch. Who could ask for anything more?”

Ben sat on the bed with her, careful not to jostle her or the baby. He put his lips to her shoulder and for a time they simply stared at the miracle they had made together.

Just like any family would.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



“ISN’T SHE CUTE?” Mark showed his daughter a picture of the recently named Kelly Tyler. Ben had sent him an updated picture. His fifth in, like, three days. The man was clearly baby crazy. At five pounds, two ounces and growing daily, it was decided she could be released from the hospital. Ben and Anna were taking her home today.

Mark had the inspiration that maybe he could break through Sophie’s freeze-out with a cute little baby girl. It had worked to an extent. He could see she’d loved picking out pink little dresses and Onesies and all kinds of different baby rattles at the baby store he’d taken her to.

Not that she was actually talking to him, but she wasn’t scowling or swearing at him, either, and he figured that was progress. Even now he could see her trying to suppress the need to make cooing noises—because that’s what everyone did when they saw pictures of Kelly—just because he was sitting across from her and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d done something that actually pleased her.

“Look, Sophie, if we’re going to get through this, we’re going to need to talk.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Here in body, true. After shopping, he’d taken her to one of his favorite pizza places and they had ordered a couple of slices and some sodas. The plan was to take all the stuff they’d bought to Anna and Ben’s place so that Sophie would get to actually squee over Kelly.

That’s right. He wasn’t opposed to using his friend’s child to score points with his intractable daughter.

“Your grandparents said you guys had a long talk.”

She lifted a shoulder. “We did.”

“You see what kind of shape they are in. You’re a highly intelligent girl—you know they can’t continue to stay in that house.”

“I know it,” she said. He knew what the admission cost her. There was no point to rubbing it in. The girl had lost her mother so he didn’t need to point out how sickly her grandparents were, too. The fact that she knew she couldn’t stay with them in the house was even more progress. Now, he needed her to come around to the alternative.