Page 115 of Backup Plan

This is a kind of love I’ve never known. I got close once with two boys who looked like the woman I fell for, but there was never that sense that they were mine since their mother and I were never outwardly together in front of them.

But when Liora’s dark eyes meet mine, there’s a recognition between us. Our eyes are the same. She has my nose, or so says everyone I’ve sent pictures to. My chin, too, which is sharp on a baby, and my dark hair.

She’s already tall for her age, and every ounce of her is pure perfection.

She lets me know when she needs something by crying her cute little head off, and it’s up to me to figure out what the problem is. So far, it’s been pretty easy. She’s either wet, dirty, or hungry.

But I have a feeling it won’t always be this simple. I also have a feeling there will come a time when I don’t get woken up every two hours, and maybe there will even be a day when I miss it.

I doubt it, but one never knows.

I’m sleep-deprived, and I think Dolores senses it because she offers to come stay with me on Wednesday night so I can sleep for a few extra hours while she takes the night shift.

It’s an incredible help, and it’s crazy how sleeping a full seven hours in a row completely recharges me.

I work on setting up deliveries to my new home with the help of someone from that same division helping out as an assistant while I work on making my transition to town. When I arrive, the house should be completely set up for me and move-in ready. I’ve shipped boxes of my shit, so it’s all ready to go.

With Dolores’s help, I even order stuff for the bedrooms just in case someday Penny decides she wants to move to San Diego after all. If she doesn’t, well, I’m all set in the event I ever do meet someone who wants to fill the house with more kids, though I can’t exactly picture life with anyone other than Penelope Wade.

I’m ready for this.

I’m just missing one thing.

Well, three.

Penny, Sammy, and Benji.

I have no idea what’s going on with her, and I want to call, want to ask, want to meet for coffee…but I can’t. I’m waiting out the divorce before I make my move.

I have no idea where she’ll land when it’s final, but I haven’t given up hope of a reconciliation for the two of us.

I need a plan in place when I arrive with Liora, that’s for sure. At the baby’s one-week pediatrician appointment, I ask Dolores if she’ll come with me.

She does.

I swear to God, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

I decide I’ll pay her triple what I usually pay her for all the extra help.

She asks the important questions.

“Liam is moving to San Diego and needs to be there by the middle of next week. Is it safe for him to take the baby on an airplane?”

I never even thought to ask that one.

“It’s best to wait for the two-month immunizations, but if you don’t have a choice, she’s healthy enough that you can take her,” the doctor says. “Just try to limit exposure.”

I blow out a breath. I have no idea what that means, but the search function on my internet browser has recently become my new best friend.

My phone rings later in the evening—or buzzes, actually, since I’ve taken to silencing my notifications so as not to wake a sleeping baby—and I see Everleigh is calling.

“Hey,” I answer. Liora is asleep in her bassinet in my room, and I’m down in the family room catching the highlights on SportsCenter as I spend more time watching the monitor trained on my newborn than on the television.

“How’s my niece?” she says, bypassing standard phone greetings altogether.

“Sleeping peacefully. I’m watching her on the monitor now.”

“And how’s my little brother, the new dad?”