For the last hour and a half, she felt like she was in hostage negotiations, but she had been the hostage. Stevie had bargained and pleaded while skidding close to her wit's end with putting Skylar to bed. The toddler demanded she wasn't tired, wanting one more song sang, asking for another story to be read, counting every butterfly, flower, cloud, and unicorn on the comforter, begging for Ginny to get into bed, and anything else under the sun she could come up with to prolong the inevitable. Stevie closed the storybook quietly and removed her sleeping girl's arm from across her middle, gingerly sliding away from her and holding her breath the entire time. She scooted to the edge of the bed, waiting for her eyes to pop open and her tiny voice to request a glass of water. Skylar mumbled in her sleep and stuck her thumb in her mouth, rolling over into one of her stuffed animals. Stevie didn't move a muscle and intently observed her. The child stretched her body out then drew her legs up, rolling around and tangling herself in the blankets until she was cocooned and on her stomach. "Finally," she whispered with relief. Skylar was truly asleep and not playing possum like she had a half hour ago. Stevie slid off the bed and rubbed the small of her back.
She drifted into the nursery and flicked on the light, admiring how the chandelier bathed the room in a soothing glow. Stevie found herself in the baby's room more and more as she neared her due date. It had become a part of her nightly routine. Sometimes she'd sit for hours, thinking over the past and how she came to this time in her life. Other times, she would take out all the clothing, unfolding and refolding every small outfit. She stepped onto the rug and padded towards the crib. The blonde stopped suddenly as her hand flew to her chest, sucking in a breath and allowing panic to creep into her. She opened her mouth to scream but laughter bubbled up from her throat, realizing what had given her a fright. She shook her head and stared into the glossy, black eyes of the giant emperor penguin stuffed toy. "You scared the hell out of me," she mumbled to the gift John sent a few weeks ago. He'd sent one for Skylar too along with a baseball cap. Stevie saluted the plush five foot seabird with an amused smirk and eased into the glider, propping her feet onto the ottoman.
In the dim light, she studied the violets and primroses adorning the wall. Her sister's contribution brought tears to her eyes when she first saw it. She hoped her baby would never want to paint over the art. Stevie sighed contentedly and sank deeper into the glider. Her thoughts drifted to Katherine. She and Jeff had boarded a plane to Paris days after Christmas. Stevie adored Paris but never experienced the city without its peak season chaos or for more than a handful of days. She shut her eyes and took herself to the city of lights in her mind, walking along the cobbled-stone streets, hurrying into the warmth of a cozy little café with a book or two in her bag, watching the snow shimmer on the slanting roofs of apartments, and exploring all the enchanting markets. She grew envious of her sister and brother-in-law's getaway. Stevie wished she could throw a dart onto a map and go, but she was booked for months. She hadn't even thrown a party to welcome 1981; she'd turned down every invitation to New Year's Eve parties. She'd stayed in with Lindsey and Skylar, roasting marshmallows and drinking hot chocolate.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Who needs Paris?" Stevie mumbled under her breath and pushed herself up, chuckling as the baby stirred. "Glad you agree," she whispered and tucked her hair behind her ears. She gazed into the empty crib and smoothed her hand over her round belly. "All that's missing is you, and you'll be here soon enough," she spoke faintly. "I wish you could tell me when though." She was certain she'd feel less anxiety about the birth if she knew precisely when it would happen. She tapped her manicured nails against her ribs and demurely simpered. "I know you can't unlike your daddy," she said, recalling Lindsey's attempts to get the baby's cooperation on one kick for a girl and two kicks for a boy.
Stevie shuffled out of the nursery and traveled to the basement. Lindsey had disappeared into his studio after giving Skylar a bath. She arrived at the door, biting into her lip and debating if she should knock or simply waltz inside. He hadn't told her the area was off limits. She opened the door and cautiously crossed the threshold. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow rose as music hit her ears. From what she was hearing, the quirky and eclectic influences weren't out of Lindsey's system. She wondered if he'd be lying on the floor and grunting into a microphone. Stevie shuddered as the guitar licks mimicked an annoying mosquito buzzing around her ear. Clearly, he wasn't seeking commercial success like her producer was on her album. She tiptoed, watching Lindsey hunched over the small console. His mouth was curled in concentration and his forehead wrinkled with deliberation, striving for perfection. She had seen the identical look on Skylar's features when the child put together a four-piece puzzle.
