Page 22 of The Next Chapters

Which had worked, and Riley had given Gianna her full focus. She worriedly ran her eyes over her wife as she sat in the hospital bed. A light sheen of sweat was on her brow, but other than that, she looked totally normal. Not like she’d been in labor for three hours.

“Are you okay? Do you want any more ice chips? What the hell are the ice chips supposed to do, anyway?” She muttered, casting the last cup of ice chips she’d fetched a dirty look. Only for a second, though, before she returned her gaze to Gianna, gently smoothing back her hair.

“I’m sure Ellie would be happy to tell us the reasoning behind the ice chips later,” Gianna had reasoned with a laugh. She’d shaken her head, though. “I’m totally fine. Honestly, I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” Riley reared back, staring at her wife, baffled.

“Yes, you.” Gianna had rested her head against the pillow of the hospital bed. The back of the bed was elevated, propping Gianna up in her sitting position, and she aimed a beseeching look at Riley. “Baby Girl and I are looking for the level-headed Riley right now. Okay?”

Riley had stared into Gianna’s eyes – deciding at that moment that though she knew Gianna was hoping their daughter would have her eyes, she hoped that their daughter would keep the blue eyes that belonged to the donor they’d picked; a tall, blonde man with blue eyes – trying to ground herself in them. “Okay.”

Anya Mäkinen Beckett had come into the world shortly after, and Riley’s life had been fundamentally altered.

She knew she was biased, but she was pretty sure she and Gianna had created the most perfect small human in the world. Ellie and Mia frequently agreed, as well… then again, she felt they were both extremely biased as well.

For over a decade, Riley’s world had been centered around Gianna. She’d been her solid constant. And now, Riley had two.

She stared down at Anya as her daughter napped in the crib Riley had built.

She’d never been particularly into woodwork or furniture building, but she’d gotten very into it during Gianna’s pregnancy, much to her wife’s amusement. As Gianna had sat in the rocking chair Ellie and Mia had gifted them, she’d lovingly and laughingly watched Riley painstakingly put together Anya’s top-of-the-line crib. “We can pay someone to do that for us.”

Riley had huffed a breath out, blowing her hair away from where it fell into her eyes as she aimed a pouting look at her wife. “We absolutely will not be doing that.”

Her dad had built and assembled the cribs she and Ellie had slept in, as well as many other pieces of furniture around their childhood home. Riley remembered feeling so… safe, knowing that. Safe and loved. Her dad knew how to put furniture together and do all of their simple home repairs.

So, when Riley wasn’t running around trying to make sure Gianna didn’t need to lift a finger or wasn’t busy reading as many parenting books as she could – Ellie had given them a great selection, all of which she’d read and vetted, herself – she’d spent weeks upon weeks reading how-to manuals and watching YouTube videos about electricity and plumbing.

She appreciated Gianna watching her do so with only mild teasing. “I think this is your version of nesting,” she’d commented one day.

Riley didn’t disagree.

But… she lightly traced a finger of the dark stained wood of the crib. It made her feel proud to know that their daughter was sleeping safely and soundly in the bed she’d built.

“My maternity leave may be over in a few days, but I’ll always be taking care of you,” she promised in a whisper, though she knew she didn’t need to.

Anya slept deeply and soundly. So soundly, that they’d been concerned something was wrong and had her doctors run a plethora of tests.

Nothing, it seemed, was wrong with their girl. She was simply perfect.

The idea of her maternity leave coming to an end made everything inside of Riley want to rebel. She’d taken three months completely and totally off and then dipped her toes back into work by answering emails and giving feedback on content for the last eight weeks.

For as much as Riley did, in fact, love her job and occasionally had panic-stricken moments that everything was going to fall apart without her, she was now dreading every bit of news she’d be missing here at home.

Given her dual professions, Gianna’s maternity leave had been far less conventional. Content creation and president/founder of a lingerie line didn’t follow the same guidelines that Riley’s new station did. At this very moment, Gianna was at an in-person meeting with Cora for the first time since she’d given birth.

At the sound of their doorbell, Riley snapped her head to face the door, frowning.

Quickly, she darted her eyes back down at Anya. True to form, her daughter fussed around for only a moment at the loud, jarring sound before she settled right back into her nap.

Riley reached down and lightly ran her finger over her daughter’s nose before she grabbed the baby monitor and headed down the stairs.

As far as she knew, they weren’t expecting any deliveries. And other than delivery drop-offs, no one had rung their doorbell in months… because everyone they talked to and could potentially have invited over was well aware that they had a newborn in the house and took care not to ring the doorbell.

She hooked the top-of-the-line monitor into her belt loop with eased practice as she reached the bottom of the steps.

The doorbell rang again, and Riley sighed in irritated confusion, hurrying her pace. What in the world was so urgent someone needed to ring their doorbell multiple times when they had a sleeping baby?!

“I’m coming!” She called out as she jogged down the front hall, hoping to cut off whoever was out there before they decided to ring for a third time.

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