Page 89 of Seven of Hearts

“We’ll still need a regular crib,” Leah said as she studied the picture.

“Fine. We don’t have to go see it if you don’t want to,” I said with complete sincerity. I knew Leah was bluffing, but I was willing to play her game.

She cut her eyes at me. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to go see it.”

By the timewe made it back to her apartment with the bassinet in tow, Leah’s spirits were mildly lifted.

“What do you think about the name Nolan?” I asked.

Leah paused in thought as she stuck the other half of her leftover chicken wrap in the fridge. “I don’t hate it.”

I lifted an eyebrow as I hefted the Moses basket into the living room and stuck it with the boxes that were ready to go to the new house as soon as we got the key. “I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then.”

“There was this kid in Gio’s class two years ago that was an absolute turd. His name was Nolan.”

I snickered. “Who knew naming a baby was less about finding a name you like and more about avoiding names that might doom the kid to a life of being an asshole?”

She cracked a smile, but it immediately fell when I slid the plastic grocery bag from the pharmacy off of my arm and onto the kitchen counter. I glanced at the time, and knew she was thinking the same thing.

“Do you want some privacy or do you want some moral support?” I asked.

The doctor had given her strict instructions for when to start her testing and insulin regimen. It didn’t leave any time for wrapping her head around it.

Leah looked a little green at the idea. “I—I don’t know.”

“All right.” I opened the bag and unpacked the supplies for her. “I’m gonna grab my laptop and get through some emails. Let me know if you need help, okay?”

I slipped into the bedroom and closed the door, but didn’t latch it. I could still hear Leah rustling around in the kitchen.

I had six emails cleared when the sniffling started. “Leah, you okay?” I called.

Her “yeah” was pitiful.

I closed my laptop and left it on the bed. “Baby...” I said when I walked out of the bedroom and found her hunched over the kitchen island in tears.

“I can’t do it,” she whimpered. “I—I tried and I just can’t.”

Instead of problem solving, I held her. “Just breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

“How am I supposed to take care of a baby if I can’t even take care of myself?”

“Thisisyou taking care of yourself. Sometimes it’s not easy or pleasant. What you’re doing right now—that’s you being a good mom because you have to take care of yourself first.”

“Being pregnant is hard,” she admitted. “There are so many decisions and so much is changing...”

“I know,” I whispered as I kissed her temple. “I’m sorry I can’t carry more of the burden, and I’m sorry that it was put on you without warning.”

Leah wiped her eyes. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it to forty weeks,” she admitted. “I can’t do this once, much less four times a day until the baby’s here.”

“Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for. Not because there’s going to be a baby in a few months, but because you’re here right now. And wherever you are is where I want to be. So let me help.”

Leah waited while I cleared a space on the kitchen table between her stamp collection and the pressed flowers she was working on. I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.

“Come here,” I said, patting my thigh. “Sit on my lap.”

Leah tried to shuffle between me and the table with her back to me, but I grabbed her hips and turned her to face me.

“Sit down and straddle my hips. Eyes on me.” I held her ass as she carefully maneuvered and eased down on my lap. “There you go,” I said as I grabbed one of the alcohol swabs. “Which hand do you want me to do?”

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