The Adventures of Harry and Grace Part II

Lifelong Calling

Resting his head on the steering wheel, Harry releases a sigh. Today was frustrating in every shape and form. Spending the last ten hours in the studio was a waste of time because he couldn't create a single phrase that would work for his third album.

"This isn't working." Harry growls, the frustration wafting off his body like the steam from the water in a hot tub.

"Relax, H; it's been awhile. Maybe you should try playing the guitar? Might help it flow more." Mitch unwraps the strap from around his shoulders, handing the instrument to Harry.

"I don't think it's any use if I'm honest. This isn't working; I'm tired. We've been here awhile." Harry looks down at his phone, noticing a message from you that includes a picture. Unlocking his mobile, Harry's eyes well up with tears at the picture of his sleeping baby girl. Grace is now four weeks old, and Harry's heart aches to hold her, kiss her, sing her to sleep.

"Grace asleep?" Mitch asks, pulling Harry out of the trance he was in.

"Um, looks like it. First night in her crib. Moved her to her own room last night." Harry pauses before running his hands through his hair. "Can we try again tomorrow? I'm tired and honestly miffed about the whole day. Thought it would be easier I guess." Harry shrugs before picking up the leather bag on the floor. Placing it on the couch, he begins to pack up his gear.

"Understandable, man; it's not easy to come back to work. You've had some major life changes." Mitch comments.

"Yea. But this is my thing. My calling in life. I was made for this." His voice is somber, and Mitch gets the vibe that Harry is feeling his magic talent has disappeared.

"It will come back. Just got to find some inspiration." Mitch claps his hand on Harry's shoulder, bringing him in close, hugging his friend tightly. "Go give that baby a snuggle. Recharge. I'll see you in the morning."

Grabbing the bag off the passenger seat, Harry pockets the keys and exits the car. His feet drag heavily as he makes his way through the garage and into the house.

"Babe?" Harry asks softy, noticing the lights are off. He doesn't call again, thinking you are probably already in bed. Typically if Grace is asleep during later hours, so are you.

In the kitchen, Harry places the leather bag on the table, leaving its contents for the morning. Slipping off his tan Gucci loafers and stripping his coat, Harry pads across the wooden floor towards the stairs.

The carpet feels soft under his feet as he climbs the stairs, hoping he can slide in bed and fall right to sleep. Running his hands over his face, he lands on the top step.

A small light is coming from his daughter's room, pulling Harry's attention and thoughts towards Grace. Her door is open, and Harry quietly pads into her room. Leaning over the side of the white crib, Harry runs his finger down her chunky cheek as soft puffs of air leave her lips.

Stripping off his navy cardigan, Harry moves to pick up his baby. The pull towards Grace is strong as if she is a magnet and Harry is a piece of metal. Knowing the risks of lifting a sleeping newborn, he decides it's worth it.

Grace stretches her body as Harry lifts her from the crib; he places her on his shoulder, adjusting the floral nightgown to cover her tiny piggies. He grabs the blanket, placing it over the top of her small body. Grace begins to startle, making small noises that are like a warning to Harry that she is going to wail soon.

"Shhh. Daddy's got ya." He says, swaying her back and forth. "Missed you today, Bug. Did you miss me?" Harry whispers softly to the baby who squirms against his chest. "Go back to sleep, love. Daddy's here." Kissing her forehead, Grace's grunts and moans begin to subside.

Sitting down in the rocking chair, Harry pushes them back and forth, helping Grace to calm down even more, settling her body into his. Her mouth drops opens softly and her breathing begins to slow down and her feet rub softly together just like yours do, tickling Harry's chest.

"Couldn't write today." He whispers softly to Grace, but mostly just to get the frustration from the day out in the open and off his chest. "It's not like me." He pauses, allowing his brain to think about today and what was going on.

"I wonder if this is a sign. Maybe being an artist isn't my true calling? It shouldn't be this hard. Uncle Mitch told me I need to look for some inspiration, but what if I can't find any?" The doubts of his career begin to sink in and his heart begins to fall. He loves his job and feels extremely blessed for the success he has had. But what if his time has passed and he is done?

Grace turns her head towards Harry, allowing his eyes access to her face. His heart melts as he looks at her soft baby features. "The first time I held you in my arms was full of magic, and I felt an explosion of love for you." His hand runs his thumb across her cheek. "Baby, my baby. Oh how you've changed our world." He begins to sing. Words to a song that doesn't exist. Harry is writing a song, holding his inspiration in his arms. "My heart is wrapped around yours, tighter than your curls are curled."

The words continue to flow out of his mouth, creating a song that is sweet and soft. "You did it, Bug. You helped me find my inspiration." Kissing her temple, Harry rests his head on top of hers. Rocking them slowly back and forth. As Harry closes his eyes, he realizes being an artist isn't his true calling, but being a parent is.

You reach over to turn out the lamp light before going to sleep. The soft singing and elucidating words had stopped coming from the baby monitor, but Harry has not come to bed. Deciding to check on them before you sleep, you stand and make your way to your daughter's room across the hall.

The sight that is before you is unlike any other. Harry's head rests gently against the newborn's. She snuggles on his shoulder peacefully and content. The crease between Harry's eyebrow has been smoothed out, and his body is relaxed. This is what he was made for. Yes he could charm a crowd with a flash of a smile and sell millions of albums in moments. But being a daddy to Grace is something nobody else can do. Your heart warms as you walk over, leaving a small kiss on the foreheads of your loves who stay asleep, content in having each other forever.