Page 40 of When Alec Met Evie
I find Victoria in a back booth, her white hair swept up into a twist and stylish glasses perched on her nose. She stands as I approach the table and opens her arms for a hug.
“Are you a hugger?” she asks as she wraps her arms around me. “I’m a hugger.”
“I love a good hug,” I say. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise, dear. And this must be Juno?” She looks into the baby carrier and smiles. “I didn’t realize she’d be joining us.”
My chest tightens. “I hope it’s not a problem. I just got into town and didn’t figure out childcare for today. But she’ll probably sleep the whole time.”
“Oh no, no,” Victoria says. “It’s not a problem at all. Even if she wakes up, that just means I’ll get to meet her.”
I’m encouraged by Victoria’s kindness, but the feeling is short-lived. We’re still eating our salads when Juno wakes up and she has fully reverted right back to the cranky mood that made our morning so memorable. There doesn’t seem to be anything specifically wrong with her. She doesn’t want to eat or burp or sleep. Her diaper is dry, her body temperature is normal. She’s just grumpy. And she keeps spitting her pacifier out like it’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever offered her.
I try to eat one-handed while I bounce her in my free arm, but she’s squirmy enough that she keeps knocking her fist against the edge of the table. When I bounce her a little more, shooting Victoria an apologetic glance, Juno flails in response, body stiffening as she arches her back, this time hitting herheadagainst the table.
The cry she lets out in response is sharp and ear-piercing, and I want to sink into the floor.
What am I doing here?
I’m supposed to be talking about my symphony experience, my training at Juilliard, my reasons for wanting to be a luthier. Instead, I’m disrupting lunch for an entire restaurant and probably making a terrible first impression.
As if I needed more icing on this very terrible cake, Juno’s cries make my milk let down, and it soaks right through my shirt.
Victoria looks at me with what can only be pity. “Perhaps you should take her out, dear,” she says over Juno’s wails. “I’ll have your food boxed up, and I’ll bring it to your car. It’s really okay. We can do this another time.”
Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t have any choice but to nod, gather up my things, and head for the door. Juno’s cries have slowed to hiccups by the time I reach my car, and I look down at her.
“Now you’re happy, huh?”
She has the audacity to smile at me, and I catch sight of a tiny white line on her gum.
“Oh my gosh! Juno! Are you getting a tooth?” I drop her carrier onto the pavement next to my car and lift her a little higher to get a closer look. “You are!” I say. “No wonder you’ve been so grumpy.”
There’s still no sign of Victoria coming out of the restaurant, but there’s a green space right next to the parking lot with several benches scattered under the trees. I carry Juno to the closest one and sit down to nurse.
Now that we’re out of the restaurant and she has my full focus, Juno is totally chill and settles in to eat with her usual enthusiasm.
“That was bad form, girlie,” I say as I stroke her wispy brown waves away from her face. “It really is good I noticed that tooth or I’d still be mad at you.”
She kicks her little feet, smiling without breaking her latch, and what’s left of my frustration completely melts away.
I am embarrassed and discouraged and extra exhausted, but I can’t be mad at Juno for any of that.
I close my eyes and tilt my face up to the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves overhead. The weather down here isn’t all that different from New York, at least for right now. But I wonder if the winter will be milder.
I pull out my phone, wondering if that would be a weird thing to ask Alec, but when I glance at the screen, there’s already a message from him waiting for me.
It must have come in while Juno was having her meltdown, otherwise there’s no way I would have missed it popping up on my watch.
My heart jumps the slightest bit as I pull up the thread and read his message.
Alec
Hey. Just wanted to thank you again for hanging out with the twins before we left. You’re good for them, which feels like a weird thing to say. But I can tell they had a good time.
I smile as I type out a reply.
Evie
