Falling Fast
Disclaimer
I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.
Chapter #24B
Cold, Lonely Nights
"Good job." I told her, "You're being very gentle."
"That's good?" she asked.
"Excellent." I told her, nodding. "Babies are very, very fragile and need to be handled with a lot of care. It's really scary, because even a little bump on the head could do sooo much damage." I voiced my own fears.
"Wow." She gasped. "That's scary."
"It is," Owen agreed, "but Miley and I are going to be very responsible and Isabella's going to turn out just fine." He said, assuring both me and Taylor at the same time, "Right?"
"Right."
FALLING FAST B
Two days later Izzy and I were both discharged from the hospital. I was terrified of bringing her home; who would watch her every second? How would I know if she was okay? What if I didn't hear her cry? Dad tried to calm me down, but nothing really worked. Because Isabella was premature, she wouldn't be allowed out of our house (except for trips to the doctor's) for at least a month. I was able to convince dad to let Owen stay through dinner that night, and we whiled away the afternoon just watching our baby and talking about our plans for the summer. We came to the conclusion that Owen would get a job in the morning and then we'd switch off Izzy so that I could go to the studio in the afternoons. Dad agreed to let Owen stay through dinner occasionally, his ban loosening to allow Owen in a room with me as long as we weren't alone together with a closed door.
Still, after dinner that night dad made Owen leave.
"G'night, Miley," he whispered, giving me a tight hug.
"Good night." I murmured. He pulled back from my embrace and, with a tentative glance at dad, leaned in again to let our lips brush for a moment. One, amazing moment. Then he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Izzy's forehead.
"Night Izz." He whispered, his words carrying on the wind, "I love you." She made a tiny noise of acknowledgement before turning in towards my warm body. He smiled, caressing her cheek softly. "I'll be back around 8?" he asked.
"Don't you have school tomorrow?" I asked. Unlike me, Owen hadn't taken up homeschooling.
"Long weekend." He answered, smiling.
"Eight then." I agreed, watching him saunter off the porch and into his car.
"Come on back inside." Dad ordered, opening the front door for me, "It's getting cool out." I nodded, tearing my eyes away from Owen to come back into the warmth of home. "Miley," he began, closing the front door, "maybe you should start putting Isabella to bed now." Slowly, I looked down at the baby in my arms. She flexed her tiny fingers at me and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible yawn.
"Will you help me?" I asked cautiously.
"Sure." He laughed, "go up to your room, I'll be there in a second." I left, walking up carefully. The jagged motion of walking upstairs did nothing to soothe my daughter. She began to whimper, so I held her against my shoulder, using one hand to hold her, the other to rub her back. That soothed her a little bit, and by the time dad came upstairs she was calm again.
"Can you undress her?" he asked, moving to set something up in my bathroom.
"Sure." Carefully, I unzipped her and pulled her arms slowly from their sleeves. She seemed to prefer being naked because she didn't fuss at all.
"Turn on your CD player and come in here." Dad told me, and I heard him running my bathroom tap. Carefully, I bundled Izzy up in a towel and turned my boom box on, lowering the volume. A tape I had recorded specifically for her began to play. The songs were all lullabies, some prewritten, others that I'd written myself. The singers were different combinations of me, dad, and Owen.
"OK," he explained, "when you were a baby your mom and I always gave you a bath before bed. But when babies are really little like Izzy, it'll be less nerve-wracking for you to do a sponge bath." Silently, I took in my counter. The extra space beside my sink held a beach towel folded into a thick, absorbent mat. Beside it were two clean rags, and the sink was half full of luke warm water. Carefully, I placed her on the towel.
"Always keep your hand on her." Dad warned. Reaching across me, he dipped one of the rag into the sink and wrung it out a little bit. "I'll show you how to do one leg, and then you can do the other?" he proposed. I nodded, and watched intently as he wiped down all of her left leg, even between her little toes. All too soon, he handed the rag back to me. Carefully, we switched so that he was holding her down and I washed her other leg. "Good." He said, encouragingly. He helped me to wash the rest of her, and then to dry and dress her. Finally, she was ready for bed. Dad and I sang to her, and within twenty minutes she was asleep enough not to wake when I set her down to bed.
FALLING FAST B
That night, in my dark lonely room, I couldn't go to sleep. I just couldn't. I couldn't be the only one responsible for this little being. I couldn't handle that kind of responsibility. With me, alone, in the room I would be the first to respond – Isabella's first line of defense against whatever caused her to wake up. It was so damn scary. I wasn't babysitting this kid. I was mothering her. Everything I did or said, every bat of an eye, would affect her forever. And with that thought I left my bed, padding softly over to the nearest bedroom.
"Lily!" I whisper-screamed through her open door.
"Yeah?" she asked, looking up from her book.
"Can you sleep in my room tonight?" I begged.
"I'm just at the part where Jacob kisses her!" she whined.
"Lils, you've read that book a bazillion times."
"Why do you want me there?" she asked, turning on her main light.
"I'm scared."
"You're a big girl, Miley. You're fifteen years older than her. You can do this."
"Pleaaaaaaaaaaase?" I whined again, adding in my famous pout.
"Fine." She sighed, "God, you'd think you're the baby."
"Thank you." I whispered, leading her back into my room. With Lily in my extra bed (the one that had been originally in the room and I hadn't bothered to make dad move when mine had come in) I felt secure enough to fall asleep as my head touched the pillow.
FALLING FAST B
I jolted awake a little more than an hour later to a high-pitched wail. What the heck could make that loud a noise? And then I remembered, Isabella.
"I got her." I whispered as Lily rose from her own bed. She got up anyways, following me over to the crib. There was my Izzy, red-faced and streaked with tears. "Hey baby." I whispered, gathering her in my arms. "What's wrong?" her only response was to continue crying, which I didn't find at all useful. "Guess I'll have to find out myself." I sighed, lifting her bottom near my nose. "Well, you don't need a diaper change."
"She could be hungry." Lily suggested.
"Right." I agreed, grabbing a bottle I'd left in my mini-fridge and warming it in the old microwave dad let me keep for exactly this purpose. When it was ready I tested the liquid against my wrist – perfect temperature – before feeding it to Izzy. She latched on, sucking away. I relaxed, but too soon. A second later she started wailing again. "What's wrong now?" I muttered. "Do you have any ideas Lil?"
She shrugged, "maybe she just woke up and you just need to get her back to bed?"
"hmmm." I considered the idea, sitting back in my rocking chair. "want to help me sing to her?" I offered. Lily nodded, coming to stand beside me. "What should we sing?"
"Mary Had a Little Lamb?"
We sang for an hour, eventually running out of children's songs and started in on the Top 40 minus curse words. Still, nothing did us any good. She eventually stopped crying as much, but she was still fidgety and would start whimpering if we stopped singing.
"What're we gonna do?" I moaned as she set in on another wail.
"I think we should get mom." Lily confided.
"What?"
"Well she has more experience; she'll know what to do. Maybe she'll know some trick that we don't."
"K, but let's ask dad, Heather should get her rest."
"Can you wake him?" Lily asked. I nodded, handing her Izzy and slipping across the hall to our parent's room.
"Dad?" I whispered, standing next to his sleeping figure.
"mhhkaaa?" he asked.
"Dad?!"
"Huh- Wha-What's up Miles?" he asked, rubbing his tired eyes.
"We can't get Isabella to sleep; it's been, like, an hour." Immediately, he got up, out of bed, and followed me into my room. He motioned for Lily to pass him the infant, and she complied.
"Have you tried feeding her?" He asked, and I nodded. "Does she have a dirty diaper?" I shook my head. "Okay." He sighed, holding her close. "You're a fussy little baby, aren't you?" he cooed. She gurgled in response. "Yeah, you're just a wittle bit fussy." Then he was talking to us, "I'm afraid you just have to wait it out. If she isn't hungry and she doesn't need a diaper change, and she isn't missing anything, then I don't see what could be wrong. Does she have her blanket?"
"Her what?"
"The blanket Heather made her."
"It's here." I handed him the pink blankie, which had been bunched up in a corner. He wrapped it around her. She settled almost instantly. She closed her eyes, not asleep but at least calm. She buried her tiny body into the soft fabric like a caterpillar into a cocoon.
"Looks like she was just cold." He told us, laughing. "You two go to bed, I'll take care of this." He offered, settling into the chair.
"No, I should-"
"Miley, its fine. She's my granddaughter after all. You go to bed."
"Thanks dad." I replied, burying myself into the covers.
Author's Note
Awww, cute!
Dance team tryouts! Ahhhhh! But at least my current team won FIRST and GOLD in EVERY CATEGORY we competed in! Yayzers! (well . . . er . . . we were the only teams in our category but . . . er . . . that doesn't matter, right? WE STILL GOT SHINY TROPHIES!)