December 24th, 2014
Blair woke up in the middle of the night to the sharp sound of Henry's cry coming from the baby monitor on the bedside table. She reluctantly opened her eyes and glanced at the alarm clock. It was 2:10 AM and her son, who had recently started to sleep through the night, had clearly decided to break his new regular pattern on Christmas Eve morning.
She glanced over her shoulder to see her soundly asleep, completely indifferent to the noise husband and sighed, well aware of the stressful day she had ahead of her. She took a mental note to complain to Chuck about the fact that his son had gotten this special talent for bad timing from him, first thing in the morning.
Pushing the duvet back, Blair gently freed herself from Chuck's tight hold. She sat up against the headboard and reached out to the baby monitor to turn it off, before rushing to get up. She put her deep red silk nightgown on and crossed the completely dark bedroom to the door, silently closing it behind her when she walked out, and headed to the nursery.
Their son's room was the closest to the master suite. Hanged on the mahogany door was a silver plaque displaying Henry's monogram; the composition of curvy letters was embossed under a stylized crown, which was an evident prelude to the nursery's theme: royalty. That shape was indeed recurrent all around the room, along with Henry's initials, which were embroidered, incised or painted everywhere. A light gray textile wallpaper, whose delicate damask motif gave a vintage, classy atmosphere to the space, covered the walls. Studded with the shimmering silver of tasteful Tiffany accessories, the large nursery looked regal and elegant; every piece of ivory white furniture was embellished with equally silver decorations and the fabrics – curtains, pillows and carpets – were an alternation of dark royal blue and light purple. Even now that it was only dimly illuminated by some of the nightlights on the walls, which were always left on to make sure Henry was never surrounded by pitch dark, the room gave Blair a deep sense of satisfaction and, entering, in spite of sleepiness and hurry, she couldn't help but smile.
She reached the bassinet – a lavish piece dressed with white Irish linen and a voluminous bow on the front – from where Henry was crying loudly. His cheeks were blushed from the effort of sobbing and damp with tears.
Blair promptly picked him up, settling him in her arms with his tiny head against her shoulder. "What's wrong, Hen?" she whispered, cradling him as she gently stroked his back. "Are you hungry?"
It was actually a rhetorical question, whose only purpose was to calm Henry with the melodious sound of her voice. She knew he needed to be fed, so she grabbed a cashmere blanket to keep him warm and sat down on the stuffed glider chair, placing a dark blue cushion behind her back.
Forty minutes later Henry was fully satisfied. His cheeks weren't red anymore; they were back to their natural pale color, perfectly dry and soft. He was sated, changed into a new diaper and comfortable. Much to his mother's dismay, though, he was wide awake.
Determined to make sure that Henry didn't lose his sleeping pattern and knowing that rocking him and lulling him was a mistake, Blair had settled him back into his bassinet and she was doing her best to stay quiet as she patiently waited for him to fall back asleep on his own.
Her plan, however, was miserably failing; all that she had accomplishedhad been making her son show off his freshly achieved skills of rolling over onto his back and laughing. Henry was clearly enjoying himself. Blair, on the other hand, was completely exhausted and quite resigned to the fact that getting a good night's sleep wasn't an option anymore, since she had given their baby nurse the Christmas week off.
A gentle knock coming from the other side of the room stopped her from mentally cursing that decision and she turned to see Chuck standing on the doorstep, a frown darkening his sleepy face.
"Is everything okay?" he asked as he as he quickly walked over to where she stood, next to the bassinet. His hoarse voice and unusually clumsy steps told her that he had probably just woken up and, not finding her in bed, he had gotten alarmed and hurried to come see if she and the baby were fine.
She nodded and smiled at him in a reassuring way. "Yes, of course," she told him in a whisper as he slid an arm around her waist. "Except for the fact that you gave your son the marvelous gift of bad timing." She rolled her eyes. "He doesn't want to sleep. He wants to roll and laugh instead."
Chuck's expression immediately softened with relief and, when he looked down at a joyful Henry, he chortled. "Well, you would too if you had just learnt how to do it," he pointed out, reaching out to tickle the baby's cashmere covered tummy with his free hand. In response, Henry laughed again and kicked his legs enthusiastically.
"You really are awake," Chuck commented with a smile on his lips.
"Chuck," Blair rebuked him, grabbing his arm and pulling it away from a now happily babbling Henry. "Don't play with him. He'll end up confusing night and day."
If his eyes hadn't been half open and puffy from sleepiness, the look he shot her would have been of pure annoyance. Blair, staring at his unintentionally comical expression, had to repress an amused giggle. "Go back to sleep, Bass," she lift herself up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Henry and I will be just fine."
Chuck shook his head. "No, you go back to sleep," he replied, pulling her closer. "You'll have a busy day tomorrow."
He was referring to the fact that they were hosting the Christmas Eve party. Last Christmas Chuck and Blair had started the tradition of inviting their family to join them at their winter house (a chalet on the Austrian Alps that Chuck had purchased two years ago as an honeymoon gift to his bride) for the holidays, but this year they had changed the plans. Blair wasn't feeling like traveling just yet and both she and Chuck wanted Henry to spend his first Christmas at home.
This meant that all of their relatives and closest friends would have come for dinner, which was surely a source of extra stress for Blair's neurotic personality. Everything had to be impeccable; she never approved anything that was even just slightly different from how she wanted it.
"We both know you are incapable of relaxing and letting the staff do their job. You can't be sleep deprived."
Blair glanced down. There was something in the way he talked about her that never missed to make her feel utterly loved; even the things that everyone else considered as flaws, such as her exaggerated perfectionism, sounded like delightful qualities when told through his charmed, respectful words. They were always accompanied by a look of admiration and a smirk, the same expression she caught on his face when she looked up again and smiled at him.
"Fine," she heaved a resigned sigh. She knew her husband well enough to understand that he wasn't going to step back and thus there was no point in attempting to make him change his mid. He was always very careful to make sure she didn't get too tired and, plus, Blair had a feeling that he simply wanted to take the chance to spend some time with Henry. His schedule had been rather busy over the past two weeks and he hadn't had many moments alone with the baby; even just watching him as he waited for him to drift back to sleep would have made him happy at this point.
"But, please, don't talk to him too much," Blair kept on, trying to maintain a strict yet low tone as she instructed him, in spite of the tenderness she was feeling watching his smirk turning into a content, victorious smile. "And no cuddles. Don't spoil him, just wait for him to be asleep and then come back to bed."
"I'll do my best," was his laconic, not very promising answer. To keep her from replying, he bent his head and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
When he freed her from his firm embrace, Blair gently squeezed his arm and kissed his shoulder. She darted one last glance at Henry and grinned before turning to the door and walking out of the nursery. She knew she was leaving her sleepless and quite active son in the safest hands.
Hours later Chuck was woken by Blair's voice murmuring his name and her delicate fingers searching his face. In spite of her gentle ways, he gradually became aware of an unusual sensation of discomfort and disorientation; he was cold, his back and neck were hurting and his left arm felt completely numb. He let out a feeble moan, sluggishly raising the hand he could move and groping for Blair's.
She took it immediately and clasped it. "Chuck," she called him again, raising her tone just a little, as her fingers trailed up to his hair. "You need to wake up and let me take Henry."
Chuck slowly opened his eyes and they immediately focused on Blair, whose face was only an inch away from his. "Good morning," she said in a soft voice, a tender smile on her lips.
Behind her, Henry's room was lit by the first pale morning lights, coming from behind the rich blue, now opened curtains. He blinked a few times, becoming conscious of the source of his lack of comfort: he had clearly fallen asleep crouched on the nursery's glider chair, with Henry nestled in the crook of his arm and his legs stretched out on the ottoman. The last thing he remembered was sitting down there as he held the baby.
"What time is it?" Chuck asked in a drowsy, hoarse voice, as his wife took a still asleep Henry from his arms and settled him in hers. Watching her as she laid their son down back into his bassinet, he tilted his head on both sides to stretch his neck and scowled when he realized it was stiff.
Blair, who was fixing Henry's covers, glanced over her shoulder and shot him an amused look, as if she thought that the situation he found himself into was quite hilarious. "It's almost six, Chuck. You spent the night here," walking back to the glider chair, she informed him of the obvious fact that he hadn't slept in his warm and comfortable king-sized bed. "You could have least gotten a blanket for yourself," she pointed out, leaning over and taking his hand in hers again. "Your hands are ice-cold."
Chuck took a deep breath of irritation and rolled his eyes, as he moved his legs from the ottoman and tried to find a comfortable position. "It's not like I planned to sleep on an armchair, Blair," he answered, slightly harshly. Blair might have been entertained by the occurrence, but he wasn't at all; he felt very tired and he had backache. "I had just managed to make him sleep – "
"To cuddle him to sleep, you mean," she interrupted him, raising her eyebrows as she sat down on his knees and slid an arm around his velvet robe covered shoulders. "Which I told you not to do."
Chuck sighed nervously. "To make him sleep," he repeated, ignoring her objection. "And I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to wake again, so I sat down…"
"…and you fell asleep like a rock," Blair concluded the sentence for him. "I know, Chuck."
Chuck looked daggers at her for a moment, but then Blair's expression softened and, noticing her affectionate look, he glanced down and let her cup his cheek.
She pressed a kiss on his temple. "Go to our bedroom," she told him, her free hand running through his hair. "Henry will need his morning feeding soon and you," she paused and, smiling, she tapped her index finger on his jaw, making him smile back faintly, "you need a few of hours of decent rest in an actual bed."
It wasn't before he got to give her a good morning kiss that he decided to stand up and follow her advice. She was almost always right, he thought, aside from when she expected him not to spoil Henry as much as he couldn't help but doing.
Three hours of good sleep hadn't brought relief to Chuck's back and neck. When he got up again after breakfast, around half past nine, they were both still protesting against the discomfort he had put them through during the night. He trudged up to the stairs and, reminding himself that they needed to have an elevator installed as soon as possible, he slowly started to climb them down to the second floor, where he expected to find Blair completely absorbed by the preparations for Christmas Eve party.
The entire house had been beautifully embellished weeks ago, with crystal decorations, embroidered red velvet ribbons and rich garlands, but he was sure that Blair had still several things to take care of before she could finally consider herself satisfied.
Therefore, he wasn't surprised to see her in the living room, standing in front of the enormous, opulently decorated tree that had momentarily taken the place of the antique grand piano which usually occupied that spot in front of the tall, arched windows. Dorota and two housekeepers moved frantically around the pine, putting perfectly wrapped gifts under it. Each time a package was settled in its place, Blair canceled an entry from the list written on the clipboard she had in hand, her lips curving into a tiny, self-satisfied smirk.
Chuck, who had stopped halfway down the staircase to watch that amusing scene, didn't bother to announce himself. He silently stepped over to where she was standing and, when he got close enough, he laced his arms around her waist from behind, making her start and let out a gasp.
"There are so many gifts under that tree," he murmured against her neck before she could say anything or move, placing a light kiss under her ear. "I wonder which one is for me."
Blair promptly handed the clipboard to Dorota, temporarily assigning her the task to check the list, and then turned into his embrace to face him. "None of these is for you, Chuck," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Some are for our guests, but most of them are for Henry. Nate had something like fifteen gifts delivered this morning," she emphasized her bothered words by rolling her eyes. "Including a giant stuffed giraffe I have no idea where to put. Or what our three months old son is supposed to do with it, for the matter."
"Nathaniel simply enjoys being an uncle," Chuck chortled, slowly running his fingers up and down her forearm. "And who knows?" he smirked at her. "Maybe growing up Henry will end up loving the giant giraffe."
Blair shook her head. "This has gotten out of hand," she said, trying to speak in a serious tone. "You need to talk to him, he can't keep on showing up with a new present every day. We'll end up having to leave the house to make room for all the stuffed animals."
Chuck, who, contrary to his wife, was pretty entertained by his best friend's enthusiasm and his habit of bringing gifts to their son, shrugged. "It is true that he isn't so good with self-control," he conceded with a slight smile. Blair darted him a skeptical glance and he chuckled. "Okay, he isn't at all," he quickly added. "But we should have probably thought about it before adding 'Nathaniel' to Henry's names. There's not a thing that we can do to stop him now. He feels too important."
Blair rolled her eyes again before sighing resignedly. "I suppose this is the price to pay for such a beautiful name; 'Henry Charles Nathaniel' sounds so grand, so perfect."
"It is," Chuck agreed and leaned in to kiss her beaming lips.
It was then, as he bent his head to deepen the kiss, that he remembered the pain coming from his neck. He couldn't help but wince when they parted and his reaction didn't pass unnoticed by her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked immediately, a worried frown puckering her brow.
Chuck didn't answer right away. He knew that, if he had confessed his momentary situation of discomfort, Blair would have wanted to talk about what had happened during the night and he really wasn't looking forward to be lectured about how he wasn't supposed to spoil Henry. But denying evidence wasn't a good idea either, he thought, especially when his wife was already so busy with party planning; she tended to become rather dangerous under pressure and, if normally she couldn't stand things being kept from her, in this circumstance she wouldn't have forgiven his attempt to lie. He sighed, coming to the conclusion that honesty was, unfortunately, his best option.
"I have a stiff neck," he admitted, averting his eyes from hers; he wanted to avoid the I told you so stare she would have surely showed him. "And my back hurts."
"Well," Blair uttered, carefully releasing him from the grip of her arms. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before deciding to sleep on an armchair."
A scowl suddenly darkened Chuck's face and he glanced up to give her an offended look. A somewhat smug smile was curving her lips and he found it pretty offensive. "I don't want to discuss it," he let go of her waist and walked away from her, pacing to the couch. "Because I did absolutely nothing wrong," he declared proudly, as he cautiously and slowly sat down.
He immediately noticed the Moses basket settled right next to where he had took a seat and realized his son's presence. He grinned at the sight of a very much awake Henry smiling at him from the comfortable Dupioni silk nestle he was laid on. The baby still smiled indistinctively at everyone, but Chuck could have sworn that there was something different about the way he responded to his presence.
Blair, who had promptly followed him and was now standing in front of the couch with her arms crossed against her chest, took a long breath before clearing her throat to draw his attention. "You spoil him, Chuck," she told him when she didn't succeed, staring as he started to toy with Henry's tiny hands. He had been trying to teach him to bat them together for a few days now and, as in that moment, his attempts always made the baby chuckle.
Blair got carried away by the scene for a moment and she had to shake her head to remind herself that she was trying to reprimand him. "He has just begun to sleep through the night. He will lose the habit if you cradle and cuddle him to sleep every time he wakes up. It's not good for him or for you."
Chuck didn't glance up at her. "Mom is being mean to us, isn't she?" he spoke to Henry as he kept on bringing his hands together. "She doesn't want me to hold you when you can't sleep. How is it fair?" Henry gurgled in response and Chuck smirked. "My thoughts exactly," he leaned over and, in spite of the pain it caused him, he was more than happy to kiss his son's forehead. "Not fair at all."
There was nothing Blair could do at that point but smile; a wide, loving smile that, in spite of its brightness, still wasn't enough to express the warmth she sensed in her chest realizing how joyful they both looked. She could tell that Chuck felt much more secure around Henry now than he had during the first few weeks; there was a new serenity, a peaceful look on his face whenever she caught them together, that never missed to soften her strictness. All the rules and the recommendations she had read regarding the best way to raise a baby lost their meaning in front of the way Chuck was always full of affection for their son and incapable of containing his love.
Blair's silence convinced Chuck to look up at her and he smirked when he noticed her both resigned and placid expression. "Come here with us," he offered, reaching out for her to take his hand. "Take a break from your Christmas euphoria."
Blair took a playful moment of hesitation before indulging him, which made Chuck pout. "I'm in pain, remember?" he reminded her, pleading eyes and begging voice. "Be merciful, Blair."
Laughing at his dramatic statement, Blair finally grabbed his hand and let him pull her to sit down next to him and Henry. She carefully started rubbing his back, her hands moving gently up and down the velvet robe he was still wearing. Christmas Eve preparations were forgotten for the whole next hour, which Blair spent spoiling the two men she loved more than anything.
That night, though, Chuck would have made it clear in front of their family that, to him, showing love wasn't just about indulging; it was also – and according to him, especially – about grand gestures. Henry's first Christmas gift from his father turned out to be something so exaggerated but so perfectly matching the Bass style that no one got really surprised, not even Blair, who, after a brief moment of exasperation, welcomed the news with a proud and pretty pleased smile. Most of people would have said – and probably rightfully so – that Chuck lacked of any real sense of proportion, but purchasing a tower and renaming it after his son was what he called normality.
Notes:
[1] I imagine Chuck turning really soft and indulgent around Henry. I don't think he can – or want to –be strict. We also know that he loves spoiling Blair and I can't imagine why he wouldn't do the same with Henry – actually, he'd probably spoil his son even more than he spoils his wife, grand gestures included!
[2] Details in this chapter: Yes! The giraffe I mentioned in this chapter is the one we can spot in the living room of Chuck and Blair's townhouse during the flash-forward; I like to think it was Nate's gift and that it accompanied Henry all through his childhood. There is a description of Henry's nursery in this chapter. I must say I'm a bit obsessed with interior design and furniture, so I made a lot of researches to picture Chuck and Blair's son's room in my mind: if you are curious to know where the inspiration came from, check on Gigi Brooks stuff. They surely have a thing for crowns!
[3] English is not my first language, I'm Italian. I apologize for possible mistakes.
[4] A big thank you to my dear Daphne for trusting me to write about this beautiful and delicate topic. And, as usual, for correcting it.