Page 86 of Lift Me Up

"I have to agree." Because who am I to deny that Noah and I just fit in every possible way like we were always meant to find each other? I can't.

"Okay, Georgie's turn," Sienna says softly, giving me a squeeze and urging me to sit in the chair beside me.

I gape, unsure how to respond. Of course, I'd love to hold her, but there were others in the room too, and I could wait. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Noah says, waiting for me to sit before handing the sweet little swaddled baby to me to snuggle.

Aelia looks up at me with the sweetest face, her pink lips pursed, her little blue eyes blinking up at me, and I can't help but tear up at the fact that this little girl is finally here to be loved by so many people.

"Hi, sweet girl," I say softly to her. She coos, and I glance up to see Sienna watching me, no. Not watching me. Her eyes are trained beside me, where Noah watches on as I hold his niece. He's grinning like he can't quite believe it's real.

"Should we give them her gift?" Noah reminds me softly, and I grin. Then I gasp.

"What? Why that reaction?" Sienna looks excited and curious.

"Georgie, tell her the story before she opens it," Noah says, handing her sister the gift bag I nearly forgot on our way to the hospital today. It's white with white roses swirling around it. Sienna looks like she wants to open it right this second.

"Well, we didn't know what you were having, and I had a few gifts lined up in case the baby didn't come before Halloween, but since she's here..."

Sienna pulls out the first Halloween costume I crocheted while in this very hospital weeks ago. Originally, these were going to go to the hospital for some of the NICU babies who would be in for Halloween that were full size, not preemie. But something told me I needed to hang on to a few for safe keeping, and now I know why. The first costume, a tiny bear costume, was gender-neutral. I loved its soft material, a cotton yarn I often used for baby blankets. It was thick and fluffy and perfect for a fuzzy little brown bear one piece, complete with hood and bear ears. Sienna is in awe as she looks at it, her fingers brushing that material absentmindedly "I thought baby's first Halloween costume..."

"Georgie,"

"There's more, though. Because something just told me I needed to keep the second one in the bag. I didn't know why, because again, we didn't know Aelia was Aelia yet. But she's here, and she's beautiful, and she's your little ray of sunshine..."

Sienna pulls the second costume, the costume that caused my reaction in the first place. She gasps, looking at me in shock. "How?"

"I don't know. Honestly. Something just told me it belonged to you. To her." I look down at the baby in my arms, rocking her gently. In Sienna's hands is the Halloween costume I had made but couldn't part with for the longest time. Every time I tried to put it in the hospital pile, something told me to take it back. The yellow petals of a sunflower hat stand bright and tall and stark against the brown center base they're sewn to. Under that is a green baby sleep sac made of the softest velour yarn I could work with, and the drawstrings to that sac became the petals to the little flower pod the baby would wear. I can't stand it any longer, I help Sienna put Aelia in the costume so we can all take photos.

"Georgie, it's perfect," Sienna says, tears in her eyes. I have to agree. Aelia has been patient and willing to let us move her this way and that, even tolerates the hat like a true champ. She's precious and perfect, and everyone snaps a million photos before I take her back in my arms, Noah leaning over my shoulder.

"Happy Halloween, little one." I coo with a smile.

Noah kisses my cheek. "You share an amazing birthday with your favourite Auntie, Aelia. You're going to be best buddies forever, and you don't even know it yet."

There it is again. The promise of forever. The promise of family. Of a life with these people in it, with Sienna and Ricardo and Aelia, even their parents. They all smile as they look on, a look of well wishes for that future that Noah and I get to plan if we want it. And I want it. I want that with Noah; I want it all. I have never wanted something so desperately in all my life. I look at Noah, and I see that smile, I know that smile. It's the same one on my face right now.

Nothing has ever felt this right.

EPILOGUE

GEORGIE

On Christmas Day, the whole family gathers at Susan and Michael's home for dinner. They extend the invitation to my mother and Franny. It feels really surreal being back here after the last time. I never went into their house that time, so I don't know what I was expecting it to look like, but the moment I step inside... this is not it. Its exterior is a lavish cottage-style home with grey rock siding and a black shingle roof. With all the illustrious landscaping and lighting, it looks a lot more extravagant in coupling with the backyard and the pool and the overall tone of the exterior.

But inside tells a different story. This place is a home. All soft white walls with coffered ceilings, the living room directly left of the front foyer that has cream-coloured couches and a matching chair with a large TV mounted to the wall. Paintings line the walls in precise measurements that were no doubt done by a professional installer. The main hallway leading to their kitchen is a photo mural of the years of Noah and Sienna, from infants to photos that look like they were taken as early as last year. They continue to show us through their home, their wide-open concept kitchen with white marble, the sunroom that doubles as a heated enclosed porch in the winter. The dining room with the kitchen table made for a magazine, decorated for Christmas dinner like that of a Hallmark movie.

And I realize while this is insanely over the top for someone like me who has never had a place or a dinner this decked out in her life, this has become normal for Sienna, or Noah, maybe even Ricardo and his parents, to see this kind of spread. So while I can see how this place has the homey feel, and isn’t as over the top as I once thought it to be, there are still some elements like this that bring me back to reality and help me see why Noah may be the way he is.

He tries to be perfect, achieve perfection in everything he does, and is effortlessly perfect from many years of practice. He has had to perfect this persona of the perfect son for his parents, and seeing this here and now makes me feel bad that I ever called him out on something without knowing the full picture. Sure, his parents were nice enough now that I could see him relax around them more, laugh and joke and carry on without worry, especially when I am there to ground him and keep his focus on something tangible and real. But trauma can weave its tricky webs into every corner of a person’s being without them ever realizing it. It becomes a part of them, carrying over into everything they are, and everything they do. This makes so much more sense than it ever had before.

When the tour of the house is over, everyone disperses. Susan and Michael take up the kitchen to continue cooking the meal. I thought maybe they had the meal professionally cooked for them, but then I peek my head in the doorway to see Susan stirring something on the stove, and Michael chopping more vegetables. The two work in harmony, their hands meticulous, precise.

I leave them be, walking back to where everyone has congregated, passing the photo wall along the hallway lining the full wall to my right, the half wall the underside of the stairs leading upstairs to their five bedrooms. Five. I stop to take in the photos, touching the delicate frames surrounding them. Noah looks handsome in every photo, in every sports game he played in high school, even his prom photo doesn't look terrible.

I can see the years where Noah shifted from that happy young boy, where he starts to feel pressure from his family towards the tail end of high school leading into college. This would have been the time that they were pressuring him to go to school to be a doctor, and around the time that Sienna was entering culinary school. His smile was less bright then. More pinched expressions, like the black and white photo of his father at his age hanging nearby.

"You know, we always want the best for our children..." the voice of Susan speaks softly beside me, causing me to jump. She touches my arm. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."