Page 23 of Something Like Shelter

I wasn’t around all the time, of course, but if she had a close family, it felt odd that she was alone so much with a newborn.

“He slept on the couch in the den for the first ten days because my parents were in the guest room. And my aunts and cousins were everywhere else. This place was a zoo—in the best way—for the first several weeks.”

“What happened?”

“I gently pushed them out. Not fully! I mean, everyone is still welcome. And they all do drop in. But I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this. And I have been. Even if I pretty much only manage a shower when one of them stops over now.”

“Why did you need to prove that? Most people have help with new babies.”

Her eyes flashed at that, something raw and pained, reminding me of the missing mug, the whiskey that was gone from the bar cart, the lack of a second toothbrush. The father of the baby who clearly didn’t want to stick around.

“I guess because I knew that eventually, this would all be on me. Everyone would have to go back to their normal lives at some point. And I didn’t want to get so used to all the help that I felt really helpless when it was gone.”

“And I guess it helps that you have people like Gracie to pop in.”

“Exactly. And my handy-dandy new robot vacuum mop. I could kiss you for the suggestion.” I’d allow it. “It’s silly but it’s removed so much background stress.”

“Glad it helps. I know you like to keep the place neat. My sister-in-law got me one not long after I got Tuna with a note that said, ‘Trust me.’ I didn’t understand until the fall when he went through his first shed. I swear I was finding hair on my floors, furniture, curtains, in my coffee, in my mouth. It was everywhere. It felt impossible to keep on top of it. But having that thing running during the day makes a huge difference.”

“I’m half-tempted to get another one to do the upper floor. And then buy one for everyone in my family for Christmas.”

Expensive Christmas.

But judging by the size of her house, the neighborhood it was in, and how much money she’d put into renovations and repairs, she didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

“Think all they’d want for Christmas is time to spend with the baby.”

That got a warm smile out of her.

“Do you have children?”

“I’m not married.”

“I’m… not married, either,” she reminded me, making me immediately kick myself for the comment.

“Of course. Yeah, no. I haven’t had the pleasure of having kids.”

“You want them, though?”

“I do.”

“I think you’d make a great dad. I can see it now. A group of little kids in hard hats with mini hammers trying to help you do home repairs.”

“That’s a good image.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, I don’t want you to have to cut any more into your personal time. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving me alone, sipping her coffee, and thinking that I wouldn’t mind her monopolizing all my personal time.

“Get it together,” I grumbled to myself before turning and heading back to work.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Willa

It was probably naive of me to think my workplace would let me have my uninterrupted maternity leave.

Some part of me had been anticipating the call ever since I gave birth. It was part of the reason I always had my phone on me, no matter where I went. The other part was a bone-deep paranoia that some emergency might befall Adelaide or me without a way to call for help.