Page 49 of Big Island Moonlight
17
Juniper
The first time Juniper held her son in her arms, her whole world tilted on its axis.
She had loved him already, more every day as he grew and moved. But holding him in her arms and seeing his dear little face, looking into his newborn-gray eyes… that was something else entirely. She was floating on a cloud of oxytocin that hadn’t diminished in the days since his birth.
A heavenly smell filled the house as she dozed: buttery crust and rich chicken broth. She gathered her sleeping baby in one arm and made her way out to the kitchen, where Cody stood washing dishes at the sink.
“You’re awake!” he grinned at her over his shoulder and turned off the water.
“One of us is.”
“Our little Petrichor is snoozing, huh?”
“Absolutely not.”
Cody chuckled. “You don’t like it?”
“Great word. Terrible name.”
“It’s a great name!”
“Veto.”
“We could call him Pete! Or Petra!”
She laughed. “No.”
“Yeah, it was a long shot.” He reached out and put his hands beneath their son, who Juniper transferred carefully into his arms. “The chicken pot pies just came out of the oven, but you can dig into one of them now if you’re careful.”
Juniper’s stomach rumbled as she crossed the kitchen to regard the two gorgeous golden pies on the counter. She picked up a fork and poked a hole in one of them, releasing a vent of aromatic steam.
“Your mother taught you well.”
“My grandma gets credit for this one, actually.”
“Thank you, grandma.” Juniper blew on a piece of crust and bit off a corner. The nourishing taste of chicken gravy flooded her senses. “Wow. This is phenomenal.”
His grin lit up the room. “Glad you like it.”
She marveled at him. Their baby rested comfortably on Cody’s chest as he rocked slowly back and forth, both hands cradling their son. His sandy blonde hair was getting long again, all tangled and tousled around his ears, and his smile was as warm as sunshine.
“How do we feel about Sage?” She picked up a potholder and moved the pie to the table.
“As an ingredient or a name?”
“A name.” She speared a hunk of carrot with her fork and blew the steam off of it.
He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t hate it.”
“Is it weird that Petrichor is kind of growing on me?”
Cody beamed. “The power of grandma’s chicken pot pie.”
“You keep feeding us this well, and you can call him whatever you like.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.”
