Twas a cold, blusterous day. What I expected to be a joyous day , turned out to be one dull and bleak. As I cradled my newborn child in my arms, I thought about how this would change my life. Questions raced through my head. How will my sons adapt? How will the family react? What affect will the baby have on the whole house? All I could think of, was merely one more mouth to feed. Still pondering this effect, I tried to see my husband Neville's thoughts were on the subject, but alas, it was no use. He was lost within the text of his book and completely oblivious to his surroundings. He's always been like this. Neville was a scholar child in his youth. Books were much like the friends he never had. He wasted away much of his youth just reading, never being in the outside world of reality. I left him with his book and fell back into my thoughts. Neville and I lived in the enormous mansion with our whole family. We also live in a great location. Middle of the forest where people get lost almost all of the time. But what can I say, it's still a great house. I managed to gain some sleep before arriving home, somehow keeping my baby from slipping out of my arms. I awoke to a very unpleasant shout.
"Lydia! Be careful, the baby almost slipped and fell! Don't you know you never sleep with your child in your arms like that!" he barked in his nagging tone.
"First off, the baby is your child too. Secondly, 'the' is a he, Chauncey. I'm sorry Neville, but I'm exhausted. You'd be the same way if you had to take care of the baby with no sleep for a week after eight hours of labor!"
Neville seemed to shut up after I snapped at him. We arrived almost immediately after that, and I was still unsure of how everyone would take to Chauncey. Why was I worried? There are many people living in my mansion. And half of them aren't even my family.
Carrying the sleeping Chauncey in my arms, I hesitantly walked up the stair to my front porch. There, I awaited Neville to escort me inside, as well as protect me from the predicted giddy mob waiting for our arrival. Sure enough, as we walked through the front door, three smiling faces greeted us. Simultaneously, they all shouted,
"Welcome Home! We're so happy! WHERE'S THE BABY!?!?", all wanting first dibs to cuddle the child.
The first face I could make out through my headache and blurred vision was Nana. Nana was Neville's mother, a sweet old lady who became my first close friend of the family. When Neville's father died, she was terribly depressed and had no where to go. Kind, but reluctantly, Neville allowed Nana to live with us. When she started to live here, I spent most of my time with her, consoling her on her lose as she told wonderful stories of her youth. Nana also spent most of her time knitting. Everyday, she would be found in her husband's old rocker, knitting away aimlessly to pass the time. She continues to do so today, only coming out for food and special occasions. Knowing her gentle nature, I quickly handed Chauncey to her.
"AWWWWWW, just look at this little bundle of joy. Thank God I just finished my blanket I made, You'll be warm tonight little one" said Nana eying Chauncey as though he was a precious jewel.
"I want to see him next! When's it my turn?"
"Quit whining! I want to see my new grandchild so I'll hold him for as long as I want to!"
" Until you drop dead? I hope………"
"Miss Petunia! That's a horrible thing to say!" I shouted, increasing the pain in my head.
" Come on Lydia! She's hogging the baby and knowing Nana I may never hold him 'till his first birthday!"
I try to ignore Miss Petunia's fights with my mother-in-law. Remembering the she is best friend always prevents me from slapping her. She and I have always been childhood friends, now closer then ever. Miss Petunia really is caring and kind person. She's also the most beautiful person I know. She always loved to participate in beauty pageants during her twenties. Her favorite one, was the GHOST pageant, standing for Gorgeous Hostess Of Society Today. She always stole the crown with her amazing body, dress, talents, and all around performance. She had it all, until she hit thirty, and her parents died, leaving her nothing. Left alone on the streets, she came to me first, hoping that we could give her some place to stay. I could never turn her away, so I made a special room just for her. As for little tiffs with Nana, it all started when Nana called Petunia an artificial, no soul bitch for criticizing her knit work, and it went all down hill from there.
With my head pounding and having severe dizziness , I couldn't possibly handle anymore 'welcome home' greetings from the family. Neville, noticing how tortured I was, came to my rescue.
"Honey, you've had long day, why don't you go upstairs to our room and get some sleep, I'll take care of Chauncey till you wake up."
It seemed angels sang a beautiful hymn when he said that. With a quick peck on his cheek, I scurried up the stairs, watching Nana, Petunia, and the one woman I couldn't identify, hovering over my baby. Shakily, I opened the door and collapsed on my bed. Striating myself out, I tried to relax and fall asleep. When I finally did, it was the most serene I have felt all week.