When You Make It Home

by Claire Ashby

  “Wait, wait!” I called out.

  Scary tat guy put his hand in the door, forcing it to open again, but Theo was gone.

  Nina knew who I was looking for. She smiled. “He’s on his way downstairs. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as we’re done here.”

  “Wait.” I stopped her again. “Will you do me one favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Bring Hazel.”

  The doors shut, and when they opened again, Theo stood waiting for us.

  “What? You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” he asked, smiling.

  With the commotion focused on the reality stars, we exited the store without too much notice.

  “Can you ride with us?” I asked Theo. I held tight to the baby.

  “I promise I won’t leave your side.”

  The sun shone bright in the parking lot. I instinctively put my hand over the baby’s face, but her eyes were closed. Already worn out from her first hour of life, she was asleep.

  Dad and Steve stood, looking lost, at the back of the ambulance. Before we got to them, a woman with a microphone ran alongside me, the cameraman behind her. “Here she is, here she is. The owner of The Book Stack gave birth today in the bookstore during Brooke and Bella’s highly anticipated book signing. How are you, Miss Michaels?”

  Theo held up an arm to block her. “She’s fine, stay back.”

  “One question,” the reporter pleaded.

  The paramedic slowed at the back of the ambulance, and the woman came closer with her microphone. “Will you name the baby after Brooke or Bella?” she asked.

  Everyone froze and waited for me to respond, and I looked down at my daughter and thought of the one thing my life had been missing all along.

  “Her name is Grace.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The ride to the hospital passed in a blur. My baby was there. I stared at her face in disbelief, listening to Theo and the paramedic chatting like old buddies.

  The ambulance pulled in at the Emergency Room doors on the ugly side of the hospital—no manicured bushes and flowerbeds like outside the maternity wing. A cop leaned across the desk to flirt with the nurse on duty. The lights pulsed bright.

  A pale nurse with black fingernail polish took Grace from me. Theo held onto my hand.

  “I’ll check her vitals and get her washed up for you,” the nurse said, holding Grace under her arm as if she were a football, until someone brought over a bassinet. “We’ll bring her to your room once they get you admitted.” She walked away with my whole world, or a large chunk of it.

  “Stay with her, Theo,” I said. “I don’t want her to be alone. She knows your voice.”

  He leaned down and stroked my cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her the whole time. She’ll know I’m there.” I watched him go to my daughter.

  By the time they set me up in a room, a different nurse let me know visitors waited to see me.

  “The bookstore is your favorite place in the world,” Steve said coming into my room. “But did you have to give birth there? You could’ve taken the day off if you had mentioned you were in labor.” He laughed and grabbed my foot through the blanket. “Are you okay?”

  “I didn’t know.” I shrugged and fiddled with my ID wristband. They said Grace had one to match around her ankle. “Believe me, I’m trying to live a more private life.” I heated with the memory of moaning on the floor of the bookstore.

  Dad stood with his hands on his hips, a little awkward and a whole lot proud. “Are you kidding? That reality star’s your biggest fan. You made her day.” He chuckled, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She’s been sitting out there waiting to meet the baby with the rest of us.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Steve answered. “She only caught a glimpse of Grace before Nina ushered her out.”

  The door opened, and Steve and Dad moved out of the way as the nurse pushed the bassinet against my bed.

  “Congratulations,” Theo said, shaking hands with Steve first and then Dad.

  “Thank you,” Dad said, his voice wavering. “For helping Meg. You were there when she needed you.”

  “You can say that again,” Steve said. “Oh, she’s cute.”

  The nurse placed Grace in my arms and walked out as Nina and Hazel came in. Then Chelsea stuck her head in the door. “Knock, knock. Can we see, too?”

  Steve ushered her in. “Come meet my niece.”

  And behind Chelsea, Cortez and Brooke squeezed in. Brooke waved at me, and I waved back. The noise in the room was growing louder, but Grace slept in my arms. Theo came to my side and leaned down. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  “Sit with me,” I whispered back, patting the bed next to me.

  For over an hour, everyone took turns holding the baby and taking photos. Brooke retold the story of delivering Grace. Cortez stood by her side, filling in the parts she missed.

  Steve left with Chelsea. Cortez and Brooke left together, too. Theo whispered in my ear, “Cortez got his date.”

  “Impressive,” I said. I looked in Theo’s eyes and shivered. We both waited for everyone to leave, so we could be alone. His love for me was vivid on his face. I promised myself in that moment never to hold back again.

  I watched as Hazel cradled her great-granddaughter. “She looks like your mother,” Hazel said and frowned. “You probably don’t want to hear that.”

  “Yes, I do. You know so much that I don’t know,” I said. “Do you have any photos of my mom?”

  A sad smile spread across Hazel’s face. “Oh, sure I do. I can bring them to you.”

  “I’d like that. When I saw her, she gave me this.” I pulled out the heart locket from under my hospital gown. “There’s a picture of both of you in it.”

  Tears flooded Hazel’s eyes. “I gave that to her.” She wiped away a stray tear. “Thank you for allowing me to hold the baby.” Grace opened her eyes and looked up at Hazel. “Oh, she’s ready for you.”

  “Wait a sec,” I said, before Hazel could give me the baby. “I need a picture of you two for the baby book.”

  Theo reached for the camera. “I’ll take it. We’ll get one of you girls all together.”

  Hazel giggled at Theo.

  After he took the picture, he offered to walk Hazel to her car. They left, and I had a moment with Dad and Nina alone. Dad had stood by Nina’s side since she’d arrived, talking and holding her hand. Something had changed between them; the tension had slipped away, and they were realigned to the way they were meant to be.

  “Well,” Dad said. “You made us grandparents.”

  Nina winked at him. “Hi, Grandpa.”

  Dad swung her arm. “Hello, Grandma.”

  Nina laughed out loud.

  “You kids get out of here,” I said. “I need to spend some time with my daughter.”

  “We’re proud of you,” Nina said. She came around and kissed my cheek. Her words meant more to me than I could say.

  They left, and a nurse came in and helped me latch Grace on. I watched in awe as Grace nursed. I stroked her rosy cheek and opened up the blanket to see her tiny torso, little legs, and perfect feet.

  Over the next few hours, Theo brought me clothes from my condo and picked up dinner. He held Grace while I took a shower. I told him to go home and sleep, but he didn’t want to leave us. While I was nursing Grace, he dozed off in the chair watching us. I called Jason to tell him the baby was born.

  “Does she resemble me?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” I said, laughing because Jason always thought of himself first.

  “That’s probably a good thing,” he whispered into the phone. “Tell me about her.”

  “She has wise eyes. She looks at me as if we’
re old friends and she knows all my secrets. Her skin is the purest pink I’ve ever seen.” I smiled, looking at my daughter. “She has light hair. A tiny little tuft of it. And cheeks. You should see these cheeks.”

  “She sounds divine. I’m happy it all worked out.” He cleared his throat. “I’m hiding in the garage. I better get back in the house before she notices I’m out here. But thanks for letting me know.”

  I sighed. I had so much I wanted to say to him about everything we’d been through. I looked at Grace and let it all go. “Okay, bye.”

  “You’ll be fine. You don’t need me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.” I hung up the phone. Theo slept in the chair next to me, his arms hugging his chest. He had delivered my baby and stayed by my side. We both had been through so much in the past year. His eyes opened.

  “I love you,” I said.

  He smiled. “And I love you.”

  The next afternoon, Theo opened the door to the condo, carrying my bag and a vase full of flowers. “You never said what you thought of the baby’s room,” he said. “If you don’t like it, I’ll change it however you want.”

  Grace was asleep in the carrier car seat, and I set her on the floor. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

  Theo put the flowers on the coffee table and turned to me. “Not even a peek?”

  “I promised you I wouldn’t look until you showed it to me.”

  Theo took my hand. “Let’s have a look.” He took me to the door I hadn’t entered since those first days he stayed with me, before he moved into my bed. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he turned the knob.

  The room was as enchanting as a fairy tale. In soft, muted colors he had painted a castle and a whimsical bridge by a beautiful garden. The mural covered every wall. On a hill, a weeping willow bent in the breeze, surrounded by butterflies, and just past that was a dark and inviting magical forest. From the ceiling hung origami stars made of printed paper.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked, pointing at the stars.

  “If you think I folded stars out of the actual pages of a fairy tale, you’d be correct. I found the discards from the print collection in your office.”

  “Theo, this room…” I turned around slowly. “This room is perfect.” I sat down in the glider and picked up the e. e. cummings book he had left there. “Your book.” I held it up for him.

  “It’s for Grace.”

  Not exactly bedtime reading for a child, but I knew the book had special meaning for Theo. “Thank you,” I said, and when I flipped it open I saw he had drawn in nearly every margin. Sketches of me sleeping, my hand draped across my pregnant belly. One of me standing in a doorway, with a slight smile on my lips. A drawing of Theo and me laughing together. Another of me in bed, reading. Theo had created his own love story between the lines. Tears filled my eyes as I turned the pages. “I can’t believe this was here all along and I had no idea.” I looked up at him.

  “Remember the night I bought the book, and you traced your hand on a poem? You showed me a part of you, of your love of books, and how you don’t put boundaries on that love. And Meg, I know sometimes you doubt yourself, doubt your ability to be a mother, but when you love, you are fierce in that love. Grace is a very lucky little girl. Come here.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed the side of my face. “We talked when you were in labor, but I have a few more things I need to say.”

  He tilted my head, framing my face with his hands, smoothing my hair back.

  “I love you,” he said. “I want to be with you forever.” He shifted and reached into his pocket, and pulled out a little box. Theo opened the box and removed a vintage solitaire engagement ring. “Will you marry me?”

  I inhaled, ready to respond.

  “Before you answer, I need you to know I’m ready to be your husband, and I’m ready to be Grace’s father.” I stood very still, overcome with emotion, as he took my hand and kissed it. “Let’s share this life together.”

  I threw my arms around him. “Yes, I will marry you, Theo.”

  He put the ring on my finger and we kissed. That was when I was sure that my happily ever after had already begun.

  Dear Reader,

  We hope you enjoyed When You Make It Home, by Claire Ashby. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon.

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  Acknowledgments

  Writing a book is a long journey, and I arrived here with love, support, and faith from some very awesome people.

  First, a huge thanks to my girl, Kim Aleman. You were with me from day one, always ready to have a serious conversation about these people living in my head. Sure, you kept refilling my glass of wine, but you always took me seriously, so thank you.

  Next, my heart goes to everyone at Red Adept Publishing for believing in Meg and Theo’s story. Special thanks to my brilliant editors, Michelle Rever and Sarah Carleton, for seeing my vision and leading me there.

  Thank you to my fabulous sisterhood of writers, Brenda Hummel and Elizabeth Buhmann, for reading and rereading my pages. Thank you for helping me tear it down and build it back up. And thank you, Kate Moretti, for your guidance along the way. I am a better person and a better writer for having you all in my life.

  Thank you, Steve Kozeniewski, for letting me pick your brain endlessly. You might’ve helped with a few things in this book.

  To Alex Horton, you captivated me with your Army of Dude blog. Thank you for taking my call, Alex, and sharing your journey home with me. You are an inspiration.

  Throughout the writing of this book, I came across many stories of survival. After reading Bryan Anderson’s No Turning Back and his articles in Esquire and watching his HBO Documentary, I felt as if I knew him. One day, I hit a point where I had a few questions that I couldn’t find the answers to on my own. I contacted Bryan, and he replied as if we were old friends. Thank you, Bryan, for answering my most intimate questions. You are amazing.

  Thank you, Lois and Amy, for your unwavering love, and thanks to Don and Edith for believing in me. I love you all.

  To my husband and the wild monkeys: you are my everything.

  And finally, to the one person I have to thank twice: Brenda, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going every step of the way.

  About the Author

  Claire Ashby was born and raised in the heart of Atlanta. At a young age, she began keeping journals and over time embellished the details of her quiet days. Eventually, she let go of writing reality altogether and delved completely into the world of fiction.

  When she’s not reading or writing, she spends her time watching extreme survival shows and taking long walks after nightfall. She has an unnatural love of high places, but still regrets the time she skydived solo. She believes some things are better left to the imagination. She resides in Austin with her family and a pack of wild dogs.