Craft (The Gibson Boys 2) - Page 51
“Mariah,” Mom calls out. “There are appetizers in the dining room. I know how hungry you get and it’ll be a few minutes before brunch is ready.”
It’s a dig. It’s a dig as deep as the Mariana Trench. My teeth grind together knowing it’ll likely be the first of many.
Lance crooks his head so he can look me in the eye. It’s like he pulls me in, reminding me of who I am and who I’m not. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Giving him a quick smile, I turn to my family. Mom is still snuggling the baby on the sofa. Since she’s the real reason I agreed to this, I make a play. “Can I hold Betsy?”
Mom seems thrown by my question. My sister looks at me, slightly less thrown than our mother.
I don’t say anything and neither does she, but we quietly agree. Heading to the sofa, I wait as my mom lays the baby still swaddled in pink in my arms.
“Oh,” I say softly, pressing the blankets down so I can see her face. My eyes fill with tears as I take her in. Chrissy’s long, dark eyelashes and Eric’s full lips are present. I gasp when I see her tiny birthmark just above her upper lip like mine. “Hey, you,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I’m your Aunt Mariah.”
I feel a connection to this beautiful little angel that supersedes the emotions I have about her parents. She’s tiny and innocent and deserving of so much love that I hope I can be a part of her life in some meaningful way.
Raising her to my lips, I press a kiss to her sweet-smelling skin. My heart clenches as I hold her close, rocking her gently back and forth. When I open my eyes, I’m looking at Lance.
His brows are furrowed, his jaw working back and forth. He doesn’t look angry as Chrissy approaches me. He doesn’t look worried either. He looks like he’s thinking about something that is taking every bit of his mental power to process.
“Isn’t she perfect?” Chrissy whispers, coming up beside me. There’s a hesitation in her tone, like she’s feeling me out.
“She’s beautiful,” I say softly. “She has my birthmark.” I pull her away from my chest and look at her again. “You are so pretty, Miss Betsy. Your great grandma would’ve loved you so, so much.”
“Let me see her,” Lance says, reaching for the baby.
I’m not sure I heard him right. But, sure enough, he takes the few steps toward me with his arms outstretched. He holds my gaze as I lay the baby in his strong arms.
Our skin brushes against one another’s as we make the transfer. It sends a rush of warmth down my spine that I can’t explain, but know I want to experience again.
I watch Lance take in Betsy from a few steps back. He looks so big holding the tiny little baby. She doesn’t even take up the distance from his hand to his elbow. He holds her like he’s done it a million times, like holding a baby is a routine thing he does every weekend. There’s no clumsiness, no protest from Betsy to give her back to someone who knows what they’re doing. She sleeps just as soundly in his arms as she did mine.
“You’re a cutie,” he tells her. “You look a lot like your Aunt Mariah and that’s totally a good thing.” He lifts his eyes to mine and then drags them to my sister. “She’s gorgeous. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Um, she has so much hair,” Chrissy says, a nervous edge in her voice masked with an abundance of cheerfulness. “I hope it stays kind of curly like this.”
I’m not sure who she’s taking to so I don’t bother responding.
With a final look at the baby, Lance offers her back to me. “You want her?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling her nuzzle up to me. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. Her little eyes open slowly as she gets comfortable. “Hey, there,” I say, as she tries to focus on me. “How are you, sweet baby?”
Her lips twist in a cry that’s not really a cry.
“I think she’s hungry,” I say, turning to my sister. I hand her over, still unsure how to navigate this with Chrissy. I can tell she wants to talk, to pretend like we’re long lost friends, but we aren’t. We were never friends and I haven’t forgotten.
Once the baby is settled in Eric’s lap with a bottle, I exhale. “Congratulations,” I tell both of them. Or neither of them. I don’t know.
“Thank you,” Chrissy says. “I’m glad she got to meet you.”
“Me too,” I say, rocking back on my heels.
“I’d like to add to this little tribe,” Mom declares out of nowhere. “Do you think you and Mariah will be discussing children soon, Lance? I’d love her to finally settle down.”
Source: readsnovelonline.net