Can't Fall in Love Without You (Christian Yelich)

6

Two weeks had passed since Sloane's funeral, and Christian had hardly left his apartment. People brought him what he needed — prepared meals, formula, diapers — so there was no reason for him to venture out into the world, a world where everyone seemed so much happier than he did.

It was too cold for Ivy anyway. The seasons were shifting, and winter was settling in quickly. The moodiness of the weather matched his emotions — dark and ominous. Everything was cruel and grey.

The last few days had been especially difficult for him because Ivy seemed to be developing colic. Like clockwork, she would start screaming at the top of her tiny lungs around 10:00 pm, and it wouldn't stop until morning.

He hadn't slept in days, and a lack of sleep combined with debilitating grief wasn't helping him improve or even want to get better. The holidays quickly approaching only hurt him more. The idea of traveling to Los Angeles and being surrounded by loved ones constantly offering sympathy for a problem they couldn't fix brought him to the brink of another panic attack whenever he thought about it.

The breathing exercise was the only thing that helped, and he couldn't depend on a few deep breaths to solves his problems.

He had no idea who to turn to. He couldn't burden Travis and Lindy at 10:00 pm on a Tuesday. They already did enough for him. Travis just sat with him when he couldn't be alone, and his kind, sweet wife made sure he ate. She dropped meals off whenever she cooked for her own family, and she'd stay and help with Ivy on a regular basis. In Christian's mind, the Shaw family should be nominated for canonization.

They were both more than he deserved.

There was the woman who had helped him twice in times of need. She had told him her room number, and he had miraculously remembered the small detail, even in all his pain. They were practically neighbors. But how did someone even start that conversation? "Hey, kind stranger. My wife is dead, and my baby hates me today. Can you please fix my broken fucking life?"

She had calmed him down. No one else had managed that outside of Travis. That was something. And she seemed to know about babies. That was another important something.

He swallowed his pride. Not caring that he looked like shit in a stained t-shirt and a pair of joggers, not caring that he had huge bags under his eyes, and not caring that he was holding a wailing infant, he walked a couple doors down and gently knocked on her door. He needed help. His daughter needed help. He'd do anything for her — even beg a stranger for assistance.

She didn't take long to answer the door, standing in front of him in a plain pair of navy scrubs. He wasn't surprised by the outfit; she had the calming presence of a nurse. He hadn't really considered her identity at all, but he would have assumed she was a nurse or teacher if he had given it any thought. Especially after their exchange in the hallway, where she gave him the temporary calmness he needed to get through a major interview. He was grateful, even though he wasn't able to express that in the moment.

Her eyes didn't meet his; instead, they immediately landed on the crying newborn. "We can work on this," she said softly before he even said anything. He was so relieved he didn't have to ask. He already felt needy showing up at all.

"Thank you," he replied almost desperately. "I basically live next door."

"After you." Her voice was soft and calming. He could have sworn Ivy's decibel level had dropped already.

He invited her into his apartment. "Do you mind if I hold her?" she asked. "I understand if the idea of a stranger holding your baby is absolutely terrifying."

"No, please, be my guest." He helped position his crying daughter in the stranger's welcoming arms. His heart lightened slightly when the crying decreased. It didn't disappear entirely, but it was noticeably improved.