The Way Back

The Heart of the Matter

She felt like she was in a dream as she held the newborn. Elisabeth had yearned for a sibling for years and years. Her blue eyes drifted over the infant, gazing at her adoringly. She admired her delicate, angelic face. She knew Emalie would grow into a striking woman that would know how to be strong, confident, and independent because of their mother. She carefully lifted the tiny pink striped knitted cap, taking a peek at her sister's shock of dark hair and gasping in astonishment. She adjusted the cap and wondered if her brother had as much hair. She cuddled Emalie closer to her chest as she thought about Seth.

She wanted to know so much about him yet she only knew that he had a difficult time coming into the world and his heart had a murmur. She shuddered, remembering how her father's face had drained of color as Dr. Green relayed the unsettling news and had fallen gravely quiet. Elisabeth was sure that he was tightly tied to the thoughts running through his mind and pointing the finger at himself. Dr. Green had mentioned his hope that Seth had an innocent murmur. In that moment, the twenty-year-old had made the choice to stay positive.

Libba glanced over at her parents, watching her father press his lips to her mama's temple and lingering for a long minute. He hadn't left her side since she returned to the suite. She knew her mother was putting on a brave face, but she could feel her worry pulsating through the room. Elisabeth edged closer to the arm of the comfortable chair, straining to hear their hushed whisperings. She held her breath as her sister stirred in her arms from the movement. She waited for the crying to begin, but Emalie opened her eyes and let out a yawn. "Hi," she whispered to her and lovingly brushed her finger over the baby's cheek. "I'm your sister, Elisabeth." She listened to her pint sized grunts and squeaks as she blinked and wriggled in the blanket. "I thought for sure you'd start crying since I'm holding you for the first time. I'm not used to babies," she confessed, grimacing as she jinxed herself. Elisabeth rocked her gently until the cries doubled in volume. "Mama!" she shouted, looking up from the unhappy baby and meeting her mother's tired, amused eyes.

"Bring her to me," Stevie told her, patting Lindsey's thigh as he slipped off the bed. He found the nursing pillow and gave it to Stevie. She thanked him and positioned it, taking the infant from Libba. "Baby, you're good with her," she praised, giving her oldest a warm smile. She had watched the two of them until she thought her heart would swell out of her chest.

"I don't think so. Did you hear that crying?" She muttered and dropped onto the bed, sitting next to her mother's knees.

"Babies cry, Libba. There's always a reason. Her reason is hunger," she explained. Stevie brushed her fingers over her daughter's knuckles and looked down at Emalie. "Be patient, little one," she whispered, adjusting the top of her gown and exposing her breast. She positioned Emalie with ease, placing her forearm along the length of her back and supporting her head with her thumb and forefinger. Stevie felt triumphant that the newborn latched on as easily as before. She stroked her thumb against the baby's ear as she suckled.

"Mama, you made that look easy," Libba noted. Her head shot to her father as he chuckled. "She did, daddy."

"I know," he responded from the leather couch. "She had a lot of trial and error breastfeeding you until you and her got the hang of it." He stretched out across the cushions, thinking about much Stevie had cried over every disastrous attempt to feed Libba. He walked the floor a lot during that time, trying to figure out how they'd afford formula. When Elisabeth was six-days-old, something seemed to click and buying formula was no longer a worry. He heard thumps coming from the door and hopped off the couch. "I thought about sending a search party after you," he said to Andrew, taking the drink tray from him.

Andrew dipped his head in appreciation and stepped into the room. "Room service," he announced, setting the plastic take out bag on the bedside table. He dug into the bag, lifting a container out and popping open the lid. "One omelet with spinach, tomatoes, onions, diced ham, and cheese. Whole wheat toast and fruit on the side for Mama Stevie," he said and closed the lid, taking her food to her. Andrew's eyes bugged out of his head, and he nearly dropped her breakfast. "Shit! Sorry!" he squawked, averting his eyes from her.