Daisy’s gaze met her aunt’s. “It really does take a village, doesn’t it?” Then she tucked Sammy’s receiving blanket more securely around him.
* * *
“I don’t want to see Willa,” Vi complained Sunday morning as Daisy and Foster sat across from her at the table.
From the bedroom, they could hear Sammy crying. This apartment was small enough that Vi could hear him easily, but there was also a monitor set up on the kitchen counter.
“I’ll get him,” Vi said, hurrying. She pushed back her chair and rushed into the bedroom.
Foster rested his elbow on the table and pushed his hair back with his fingers. “She’s like this all the time. One little sound from him and she’s there, hovering over him.”
New mother syndrome, Daisy thought, but didn’t say it aloud.
When Vi returned, she was holding Sammy on her shoulder. He looked as if he’d fallen back to sleep.
“It’s not time for his feeding yet,” Foster said. “He has another hour.”
“Babies aren’t on a timetable,” Vi shot back. “He tells us when he’s wet or hungry.”
“And what was wrong this time?” Foster asked.
“He . . .” Vi stopped, seemingly at a loss.
Daisy reached across the table and touched Vi’s hand. “Honey, do you love Sammy?”
“Of course I do.” Vi sounded outraged.
“I mean when you look at him, does a joyous love come sweeping over you? Do you realize that you and Foster created this beautiful little being?”
Tears came to Vi’s eyes and she couldn’t speak. When Foster put his hand on her shoulder, tears began to leak down her cheeks. “I love him. I do. But I’m so worried about him all the time. You know they talk about SIDS and laying a baby on his back so he doesn’t choke, and what if he’s not getting enough to eat? And what’s going to happen when I have to go back to work?”
The tears ran freely now, and Daisy could see how complicated all this was for her daughter. “Vi, I’m going to say something you’re probably not going to like. You’re still a child yourself when it comes to life.” Vi was shaking her head and Daisy squeezed her hand. “What I mean by that is you’re not used to multitasking life. It was hard for me when I had you, but your dad had a good job. I was a stay-at-home mom for the time being. Your dad’s mom babysat when she could to give us time alone. You haven’t even had time to work up a routine. I want Willa to stop by so she can show you the steps for keeping yourself healthy as well as Sammy. You need to figure out how we can help you. Not take over for you . . . but help. You need to get out of the apartment yourself. You need to get out with the baby.”
“With Sammy? He’s not even a week old.”
“Vi, he won’t break. As long as you keep him warm and safe and fed, he’ll be fine.”
“And what if he has a crying fit while I’m in a public place? Not just that, but how am I going to feed him there?”
“Willa talked to you about this, but I’m not sure you were listening. You have to become comfortable with yourself as a mother.”
“You breastfed me?”
“I did. When I was out and about, and you needed to be fed, I found a nook where I felt comfortable. I knew how to keep myself covered without smothering you,” she said with a little smile, hoping to break the seriousness of their conversation. “You’ll get the hang of it. I promise you will.”
“Have you already talked to Willa about coming over?” Vi asked.
“I did. She can be here at lunchtime. She said she’d bring in takeout for both of you if Foster wants to join you.”
Vi patted Sammy’s back and rocked him a little back and forth. She cooed into his neck and rubbed her nose in his hair. Daisy could see that Vi was bonding with her son when she wasn’t too tired or anxious or doubting herself too much.
“All right,” Vi said. She turned to Foster. “Can you be here?”
“I can. I’ll tell Arden I’ll work on her Web site this week.”
This was a first step, and Daisy was so glad to see her daughter take it.
By lunchtime, Daisy was glad to see that Vi was dressed in slacks and a loose blouse. When Willa arrived, Daisy greeted her, asked after her, and then left. She’d eat lunch and wait for Vi to contact her.
In her kitchen at home, Marjoram joined Daisy on the stool next to her. Every once in a while, the feline would pop her head up and lean toward Daisy’s sandwich, which consisted of sliced turkey, lettuce, and tomato.
Daisy gave Marjoram a tiny piece of the turkey. “You’re not supposed to have people food, but I cooked it myself so I know exactly what is on it. But we never know what’s in our food these days, do we?”
Pepper must have heard their conversation because she came in from the living room, carrying her favorite black mouse. She plopped it at Daisy’s feet, wanting her to throw it.
“I guess I’ve neglected you two lately. That happens when a baby is born. Once Vi and Foster get their bearings, we’ll invite them over here so you can have some fun too.”
Pepper looked up at her plaintively and meowed.
“I have a rule. I don’t pick up one of your mice while I’m eating. If you let me finish my sandwich, I’ll give you both Greenies.”
As if they understood that word very well, Pepper went over to stand by her bowl. After Marjoram ate her tiny bit of turkey, she jumped down and went over to her bowl too.
“I can see how this is going to go,” Daisy said, placing her sandwich on her plate. “Greenies for you
