Songbird (39 page)

Today, I get to meet Shyann.

Devin gazes down at the grave. I watch silently as he kneels and traces the letters of her name.

“Hey, Shy. I know it’s been a while. Life’s been . . . insane, but I want to introduce you to Callie.”

He holds my hand as he tells his sister all about us and the baby. I’m sincerely happy to be here, even though I can’t help feeling that I’m intruding on a sacred moment between brother and sister. But when I try to step away to give him privacy, Devin just pulls me into his arms and keeps talking about everything that’s happened and is still happening to us. He tells her about my blood pressure scare and how I’ve cut back on my hours at the newspaper. And how Megan is now coming three times a week to do yoga and meditation with me. I stand there quietly while he shares the inconsequential events in our life together, and the sentiment only makes me love him more.

Once we’re back in the car, Devin’s quiet as we head toward the interstate.

“Thank you for bringing me to meet her.”

He squeezes my hand and drives on. It’s not an awkward silence at all. I know he’s just lost in memories, so I sit quietly and hold his hand as we head to the first of three houses we’re viewing today.

House hunting hadn’t been a priority until we took a good look at all the furniture we bought and realized it won’t fit in my apartment. After much discussion, we both agreed we wanted a house just outside the city, with a big backyard for our daughter. Devin contacted a realtor and gave her a budget, only to learn that the Nashville real estate market is ridiculous and anything decent in a good neighborhood is going to cost us. So far, we’d viewed four homes, but none of them had everything we’re looking for.

“Maybe we should just build,” Devin says as he exits the highway. The city fades into countryside, and I’m immediately reminded of my hometown.

“Maybe we should. We’d still have to look for land.”

He sighs tiredly. “I know. Maybe we’ll get lucky today. Ellen seemed excited when she called about this one.”

Ellen, our realtor, has been nothing but patient. Of course, she would be, since she wants to get paid.

A few minutes later, Devin takes a right and we enter the neighborhood of Bridle Trails. Million dollar homes surround us. My mouth drops open when Devin parks the car in front of one of them.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

He turns off the ignition. “I know it looks big, but it’s actually very homey and comfortable inside. And it’s in our price range.”

“You’ve already seen it?”

“Just the pictures online.”

“It’s so beautiful, Devin.”

He smiles. “Good. That’s half the battle. Want to check it out?”

I nod, and the two of us head toward the front door. Ellen’s right there to greet us. She excitedly opens the door and waves us inside.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place? I know it’s kind of hidden.”

Devin shakes his head. “Not at all. Thanks for showing it to us on such short notice.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” Ellen smiles at me. I had loved her immediately. With her sweet smile and beautiful gray hair, she kind of reminds me of my grandma. “How are you feeling, Callie?”

“I feel great, thanks. And this place is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” Ellen leads us through the family room. With the pleasantries out of the way, she’s suddenly all business. “Four bedrooms. Four baths. A den and remodeled kitchen, with cherry cabinets, granite countertops, and new stainless steel appliances. There’s a hot tub. Of course, that’ll have to wait until after the baby’s born, but it’s a wonderful feature of the house. Oh, and there’s a tennis court out back.”

As we follow her upstairs, I whisper to Devin. “Do you play tennis?”

“Nope.”

We smile at each other as Ellen continues her sales pitch. The master bedroom is gigantic. While the other bedrooms aren’t as large, they’re definitely bigger than the ones in my apartment. I can see Devin mentally measuring.

“This room’s perfect for the nursery,” he says.

I grin.

Smelling a sale, Ellen grins, too.

She finishes her spiel by telling us about the great school district and friendly neighborhood, but it’s unnecessary. I love it, and by the look on Devin’s face, he loves it, too.

“I’ll give you guys some time to talk.” Ellen says, giving us a bright smile before making her way downstairs.

Devin wraps his arms around my waist. “So, what do you think?”

“
This
is honestly in our price range?” It’s a legitimate question. The house has a tennis court, for crying out loud.

“That’s not what I asked. Tell me what you think and then I’ll tell you how much it costs.”

“I love it. I just don’t know if the tennis court’s necessary.”

“It’s not. We can have it removed.”

Of course we can.
“Well then, I think it’s perfect.”

“Good. And yes, it’s in our price range. But is this really what you want? That’s what’s most important.”

My eyes ghost along the hardwood floors and the French doors of the master bedroom. It has everything I could ever want in a house—minus the tennis court, of course.

I turn my attention back to the man I love and see the excitement in his eyes.

How can I possibly say no?

“I want it.”

Devin’s smile makes me weak in the knees.

“Then it’s yours.”

After my nightly blood pressure check—110/70 thank you very much—the two of us climb into bed. We have a little ritual. I lie on my back for as long as it’s comfortable while Devin’s head rests on my stomach as he reads to the baby. Tonight’s story is
The Velveteen Rabbit
. Closing my eyes, I run my fingers through his hair as his soft voice washes over me.

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are real you don’t mind being hurt.”

I smile softly and gaze down at the man I love. The man who wants to be my husband. We have so much to learn about each other, but I know enough. The important things.

The
real
things.

Devin loves me. He loves our baby. I have a feeling he’ll be like my dad. Laid back but protective. Firm but loving. He’ll never make our daughter feel like a burden, or a mistake, or a nuisance.

Suddenly, a fluttering in my stomach makes me gasp, and he jerks his head away from my stomach.

“Was that—”

Tears fill my eyes. Even though the baby book says most mothers feel the baby move by the twentieth week, I’m well into my second trimester and haven’t felt a thing. Dr. Clifton hadn’t seemed concerned when I mentioned it.

“What did the book say?” Devin asks. “That it would feel like a quickening . . . or butterflies. Right?”

“That’s exactly how it felt.”

I gasp again, and this time, Devin’s hands are all over me.

“Where?”

With laughter bubbling from my lips, I take his hand and position it right where I felt the butterflies. His smile takes my breath away.

“She’s really in there,” he whispers in amazement. “I mean, I
know
she’s in there, but—”

I lace my fingers with his. “I know. She’s just more real now.”

He grins. “Have you felt her move before?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. Maybe she liked your story.”

“Then I’ll have to read it every night.”

For the next hour, we lay quietly with our fingers pressed against my swollen stomach, but the baby apparently decides she’s done entertaining us for the night because the feeling subsides. I can’t be disappointed, though, because I know this is just the first of so many amazing moments.

Real moments.

And I get to share them all with Devin.

It’s long past midnight, but I can’t sleep. Instead, I sit by the window and gaze at the flickering street lights, letting the sound of Devin’s snores relax me while I think about the one thing that’s been weighing heavily on my mind for the past few nights.

My mom.

Maybe it’s because of how quickly Valerie came to my rescue and how she continues to mother me, but I’ve been wondering how much my relationship with Kim might have been different if she’d been more . . . motherly. More understanding. Compassionate. Encouraging. That’s the type of mom I want to be for our daughter. Already, I feel this intense protectiveness for my baby, and she’s not even here yet. Had Mom ever felt that way about me? Or have I always been a living, breathing reminder of her lost dreams?

Lifting my gown, I run my hand over my stomach. The skin’s taut and I can already see stretch marks, but I don’t care. Our baby is going to be surrounded by family and friends who love her.

Isn’t that what every little girl wants?

Isn’t that what every big girl wants, too?

As my due date draws closer, I find myself wanting to get everything in my life in its proper order.
Nesting
, the baby book calls it, and there will be plenty of it when we start moving into the house. But I also want to get my personal relationships on solid ground before the baby arrives, and that means I need to try to mend my relationship with my mother. At the same time, I have to let go of the shame she instilled in me and stop letting her poison my thoughts with her constant negativity.

Glancing at the bedside clock, I wonder if it’s too late to call. Mom’s a night owl like me, so I decide to take my chances. I grab my phone off the nightstand and head to the living room couch. Taking a deep breath, I dial her number.

“Callie?”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t. I’m just editing some photos. How are you?”

I smile. “I’m good. Great, actually.”

“That’s wonderful. I guess the baby is coming soon?”

“In a few months, yeah. We’re having a girl.”

“And where will you live?”

“We’ve bought a house.”

She’s interested in the home’s details. I can tell she’s impressed by the square footage and the tennis court. Of course she is. It’s expensive.

“Sounds gorgeous. It’s not really your style, though, is it?”

“I know, but it’s actually really cozy and comfortable. We hope to close later this week.”

“And Devin’s buying it, right?”

Here we go.

“No. We’re buying it. Together.”

“On your salary?” Mom laughs coldly. “Oh, Callie, it’s perfectly fine to admit that Devin’s the breadwinner in this relationship. I
am
glad to see you’re embracing it. He won’t marry you, and he won’t stay once the baby’s born, but at least you’re letting him lavish you with gifts in the meantime. I knew I raised a smart girl.”

I can tell her the truth. I can tell her Devin wants to get married and that he’ll never leave me. I can tell her I’m going to get the happily ever after she never had.