UNEDITED
Three years after Sebastian and Paisley decided it was time to start their own lives, separate from the drama between their families, they're now settled down with a successful business and their daughter, Arielle. Although it's difficult...
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Paisley
Our flight doesn't leave until six o'clock this evening. For most of Friday morning, I'm running errands while Sebastian and Margaux educate Benoît and January about maintaining our business. I'm not concerned about leaving them in charge. Aside from Cadence and Margaux, January has been part of our business the longest. She knows what we expect and how we want things done. Benoît also has valuable knowledge and experience.
Everything will be fine while we're gone.
So far, I've picked up my updated passport and other papers, paid bills, and gathered some of Arielle's favourite pureed fruits and vegetables for the flight. A few bottles are in the fridge at home. I'm nervous about taking her on an aeroplane. She's never been on one. Being overtired makes her stubborn. I hope she sleeps most of the flight.
Shifting into park, I turn off the engine and glance over my shoulder. Arielle's blue eyes are roaming from the ceiling to the shaded window to the toys hanging from the handle of her car seat. It brings a smile to my face. Babies are so innocent and unaware of what's going on in the world.
Gathering my belongings, I exit the vehicle and open the back door.
"Come on, baby girl," I say, lifting Arielle from the car seat. "Let's go get Aunty Cadence."
With Arielle in my arms and a hefty diaper bag slung over my shoulder, I head into Cadence's building. Rather than us driving separately to the airport, Benoît is going to drive us. That way, we save on parking payments while we're on the West Coast. After I've picked Cadence up, we're meeting Sebastian and his family at our house. From there, we'll pack up the car and head to the airport.
In the apartment lobby, I contemplate between taking the stairs or the elevator. I'd rather take the stairs. Elevators and I don't get along, but walking to the fifth floor doesn't sound appealing while carrying Arielle.
The ride up doesn't take long, but that doesn't prevent Arielle from patting at my cheeks and nose or pulling my hair. Chuckling, I gently swat her cute hands away, bumping my nose against hers. I have a feeling she's going to be one helluva charmer when she's older. No thanks to her father.
A ding reverberates through the elevator and the doors slide open. I step out onto the carpeted hallway, blinded by the intense sunlight streaming in from the window across from me. There's an awe-inspiring view of Montréal, though, despite the blazing sun.
Although the building is modern, it needs some major upgrades. I'll never understand the purpose of carpeted flooring in the hallways of apartment buildings or hotels. People bring gunk in with their shoes, and carpet is already hard enough to clean, let alone keep stain-free. Cadence told me they have plans for upgrades, but they've yet to happen. When they do, I hope they also remove the puke-green colours from the walls.
Arielle, who is becoming squirmy, whines. I suppress a sigh. She will cry if I don't get a bottle in her mouth soon. It's been two hours since her last feeding. As much as I love her being a baby, I'll be happier when she's old enough to use her words and tell me what's upsetting her as opposed to screaming and crying.
