Authors: Sydney Logan

Songbird (45 page)

“Just like us,” he says softly.

“Exactly like us.”

Devin nuzzles her head. “She smells so good. And all she does is sleep, poop, and eat. This parenting stuff’s easy.”

I grin. “Yeah, it’s all a breeze when she’s twelve hours old. Just wait until she starts dating.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Right. What if my father had that philosophy? We never would’ve met.”

“I bet your dad
did
have that philosophy. You just didn’t listen.”

“Beth won’t listen, either.”

Devin chuckles and stifles a yawn.

“You should sleep.”

“And miss this? Not a chance.”

When Beth finishes her feeding, Devin places her in the nearby crib.

“I’m glad she gets to stay in the room with us.”

“Me, too.” Devin leans down to kiss me softly. “You’re the one who should be sleeping, baby. You have to be exhausted.”

“I miss our bed.”

He grins. “Me, too. But we’ll be home before you know it. Then the real fun begins.”

Devin pulls his chair as close as he can get to me. We lace our fingers together, and within minutes, he’s sound asleep. Tears fill my eyes. To my left, my daughter is sleeping peacefully. To my right, my husband snores.

I’m surrounded by so much pure love and simple joy that it nearly takes my breath away.

“Devin?”

I reach for him, but his side of the bed’s empty. The house is quiet, except for the soft sound of Devin’s voice as it flows from the baby monitor.

He’s reading
The Velveteen Rabbit
.

With a smile, I throw back the blanket and climb out of bed.

It’s our second night at home. Like a lot of first-time parents, we’ve both had a hard time leaving the baby alone in the nursery.
What if she stopped breathing? What if she needed us and the baby monitor malfunctioned?
What if. What if.

The baby’s only four days old and we’re already walking zombies. Like clockwork, Beth wakes up every three hours for her nightly feedings. Otherwise, she sleeps great.

It’s not the baby that’s keeping us awake all night. It’s our irrational fears that prevent us from getting a decent night’s sleep. The uncertainties consume us, but neither of us are ready to surrender. We’re determined to use the crib in the nursery . . . for as long as we can stand it.

I stop just outside the baby’s bedroom and sneak a peek. Sure enough, Devin’s sitting in the rocker with our daughter snuggled close to his chest while he reads. He glances up from his book, and our eyes lock.

He smiles sheepishly. “Beth was lonesome.”

I grin. He knows he’s not fooling me, but I can’t fault him. I want her in my arms every second of the day, too. Thanks to breastfeeding, the baby and I have so many chances to bond, but sometimes, Daddy feels left out.

“Stay with us,” he says softly.

“Okay.”

I lie down on the loveseat and listen while he continues to read.

“Once you are Real, you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

This past year has been a whirlwind of emotions. From that first night in the piano bar to the birth of our baby, we’ve had more ups and downs than some couples have in a lifetime. Despite that, we’re unbelievably strong and more in love than ever.

We’re
real
.

I glance toward the windowsill, where the baby presents from our family and friends are displayed. Right in the center is a huge bouquet of white roses—Shyann’s favorite flower and a gift from Devin’s parents. The birth of our child was, naturally, the most emotional moment at the hospital, but the delivery of the lovely white roses came a close second. Devin actually teared up when he saw the tangible reminder of his sister’s never-ending love. After spending so much of his life in an endless shadow of sadness and isolation, my sweet husband doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

And neither do I.

Devin closes the book and continues to rock our baby girl while she sleeps peacefully against his chest.

He’s such a good dad. I knew he would be.

Our beginning was far from traditional, but our forever will be bliss. And that thought fills me with more comfort than I’ve ever known.

“I love you, Songbird,” he whispers.

I smile, because it’s true what they say.

Time heals.

Love heals.

And with that peaceful thought, I finally drift off to sleep.

Read other books by Sydney Logan

Sydney Logan is the bestselling author of six novels. She has also penned several short stories and is a contributor to
Chicken Soup for the Soul
. A lover of music, she fills her playlist with everyone from Johnny Cash to Eminem.

Sydney holds a Master’s degree in Elementary Education and spends her days surrounded by kids and books. A native of East Tennessee, she enjoys playing piano and relaxing on her porch with her wonderful husband and their very spoiled cat.

Thank you to Denise Strand, a sweet reader from Northern Ireland, who planted the seed that has now become
this
—my sixth book. I hope you love this updated version.

As always, thank you to my editor, Kathie Spitz, for working so hard to make my books the best they can be. Thanks to Wendy Depperschmidt, JA Hensley, Terri Gislason, Patti Jaeger, and Rachel Lawrence for proofreading and providing valuable feedback.

T.M. Franklin designed my beautiful book cover. Thank you for being such a good friend.

Thank you to my review team, all the book bloggers, and Sydney’s Sweethearts on Facebook for showing your support in
so
many ways. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you!

Special thanks to Nazarea Andrews and Inkslinger PR for introducing my books to new bloggers and readers!

Thank you to Fleetwood Mac for the musical inspiration.

I am blessed to have a husband who not only encourages my writing but who never fails to tell me he loves me every single day. I love you, too.

Finally, to my readers. Without you, these are just words on a page. Thank you for reading, reviewing, sharing, recommending, and encouraging. Your support is priceless.

Psalm 91:4

Published by Mountain Media

Cover design by T.M. Franklin

Cover images by Romolo Tavani and Africa Studio

Ebook designed and formatted by:

www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Any books, songs and song titles, lyrics, television shows, or movies mentioned in this book are the property of the respective copyright holders and trademark owners.

Excerpt from
The Velveteen Rabbit
by Margery Williams (public domain).

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