Page 46 of The Guest Cottage
“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.”
After a searching look, Pixie nodded. “Thank you. Soup sounds incredible.”
“Try to drink all the juice.”
It amazed Marlow, but Cort treated the woman with the same care he’d give to an overwrought teenager.
“You’re both so kind and it’s killing me.” Again, she swiped at her eyes, but the tears kept flowing. Her face was now blotchy, her eyes swollen and her nose red. “You can’t know . . . can’t imagine.” With a shuddering breath, she admitted, “I’m so afraid.”
“Well, no reason to be afraid now.” Marlow put the baby on his back and then tried to figure out the workings of his little clothes.
“I can do that,” Pixie offered, already reaching into the diaper bag to find a nearly empty tub of wipes and a lone disposable diaper.
“If you’re able, that might be best.” She wasn’t at all sure she wanted her renewed initiation with babies to begin with a soiled diaper. Carefully, she lifted the baby and turned him, so Pixie had the business end.
Even with her hands shaking and weak, the young mother made quick work of it.
Then the two of them sat there staring at each other, a wrapped-up dirty diaper between them. Talk about bizarre scenarios you never saw coming.
Marlow got to her feet. “I’ll get a bag.” She darted into the kitchen and was immediately pulled up against Cort’s warm chest.
Against her ear, he whispered, “How’s it going?”
She honestly couldn’t say. “It’s . . . tricky.”
Putting his forehead to hers, he said, “Remember, I’ve got your back. Anything you need from me, anything at all, just let me know.”
His generosity left her without words, so she hugged him as tightly as she could and hoped the gesture expressed all the things he made her feel.
With his hands moving up and down her back, he said, “You could call in sick today.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m determined to be the best employee Herman has ever had.” It was part of her campaign to remain in Bramble. The town had four hundred and one citizens.
She wanted to be number four hundred and two.
“You,” Cort said, nudging up her face so he could give her a light kiss, “are determined to do it all, but you don’t have to.”
“For me, I do.” It was how she operated. A part of her genetic makeup. All or nothing. That mode had gotten her through life so far, and especially through the past difficult months of Dylan’s cheating and subsequent death. Instead of braking, she accelerated into the twists and turns, and hopefully, she’d get to the finish line—with peace of mind her goal—all that much sooner. “How about you? Do you need to be somewhere?”
“I texted Wade to tell him something had come up and I wouldn’t be over today.”
“I’m sorry. My problems shouldn’t interfere with your life.”
After a searching look, he turned to the stove to stir the soup, then switched off the burner. Keeping his back to her, he said, “Here’s the thing, Marlow. This shouldn’t be your problem either. You don’t own it, didn’t ask for it, and aren’t obligated to handle it. Except that you’re a good person.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And so am I.”
Damn it, nowshefelt like crying. Not the same despairing tears that Pixie had wept, but tears of tenderness. “Thank you.” Cort was another twist she hadn’t seen coming, but in many ways, he was proving to be the best part of Bramble.
Back to business, she set out a tray. “Use this. Grab her some crackers too, from that cabinet. And then maybe refill her juice?” She opened a drawer and found a disposable plastic bag. “I need to remove a dirty diaper.”
They shared a quick smile, and Marlow returned to Pixie.
The girl looked nearly asleep with the baby in her arms, hungrily nursing.
“Oh.” Okay, this was something she’d never seen before.
Hastily, Pixie pulled the blanket up over the baby’s face to also cover her breast, but he only pushed it away. “He was hungry.”
“Does it take him long?” They both spoke in whispers. “I only ask because your soup is ready.”
