A Falice Story

40. Bringing Home Baby

Alice's POV

"Are you ready to go home, peanut?" FP coos with a dopey smile on his face, as he double checks that Isla's secure in her carseat. She wasn't exactly thrilled about being stuck in it, but now she's contently sucking on her pacifier and is just about ready to drift off to sleep.

"Honey, are you sure we bundled her up enough? It is pretty chilly out after all..." I ask him, putting on my own jacket and scarf. 

FP smiles at me, pecking a kiss against my cheek, "She's plenty warm, Al. If we bundle her up any more we won't be able to find her in there," he jokes. 

I smile down at the carseat, "I know, I know--I just--I don't want anything to go wrong. I just love her so much...and...and..." I feel my eyes start welling up and I bite my lip trying to hold it together. Damn these hormones. 

FP sets the carseat back down on the bed and wraps me into a hug, "It's okay, babe. Everything is going to go just fine--trust me." 

I let him hold me a while longer and I rest my head on his chest, fixing my gaze on Isla who's now sound asleep. We admire our perfect little girl and I relax into FP's arms, my fear and anxiety about bringing her home starting to melt away.

"Isn't she just the cutest?" he says, his hand running up and down my back.

I nod, "She really is. It'll be so nice to get home."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm pretty sore."

He kisses the top of my head, "Well, then I'll make sure to take really good care of you when we get home."

*

FP pulls into the driveway just as Isla is waking up. Her little cries echo through the car and I get out, opening the passenger door, "It's okay, baby girl--mama's right here," I say putting the pacifier back in her mouth, which seems to do the trick--for now.

FP insists on carrying the carseat inside and I catch him smiling down at her, "We sure do make cute babies, don't we Al?"

I run my hand on his back, "We definitely do, babe--but let's not get any ideas for another one, huh?"

He smirks, "Yeah, but we also know how compatible we are..."

I playfully slap his shoulder, "Which is why I'm insisting we start using protection every time." 

"Whatever you say, hon."

We are just about to open the door when it swings open, revealing the kids on the other side, "Welcome home!" they all chant as we walk in. Hotdog is barking feverishly, jumping up on me, trying to get my attention.

"He missed you a lot," JB says with a smile.

I get down to Hotdog's level, petting the sheep dog, "Hi, buddy. I missed you too. You're a good boy, aren't you?"

He whines and starts pacing around FP, who is still holding the carseat. 

"Don't let him jump up on her," I say trying to calm the dog down. FP passes Isla over to Betty, who cradles her while FP squats down to pet Hotdog. "Hey--calm down boy, it's just us."

"He knows something's different," JB comments, wandering over to admire the baby.

Gladys emerges from the kitchen, "Hey guys. There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry--don't worry, I didn't make it," she says with a wink.

"Thanks, Gladys," I say as I walk over to Betty to collect my baby, "I have to feed her, but then I'll come down and grab something for myself," I say, exiting the room.