Leave the Pieces (Strawberry Inn Book #5)

Chapter 2

EMORY

I quietly closed the door to my parent’s house behind me and came face to face with my dad holding his latest book, “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“Hi, Emory,” he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “How was the concert?”

“Oh Dad, it was amazing. They did two encores, that’s why I’m so late.” The final concert of the week-long music festival was tonight. It was only our second year, but this year’s festival was twice the size of last year’s. In addition to the acts playing on the main stage, we had a smaller stage in town where the main celebration of all things strawberry takes place takes place. 

“We could tell,” he chuckled. Mom and Dad lived on the vineyard grounds, which happened to also be the location of the main stage. They live far enough away that the sounds aren’t miserable during the week. They assured me it would be fine though, considering all the money and notoriety the festival brings in.

“I’m sorry about that,” I apologize, even though there isn’t much to be sorry for. “Is that why you’re still up?”

“Only part of the reason. Your mom was getting Callum to sleep and I knew you’d be home soon.”

“Thank you again for watching him. I know it can be difficult when he doesn’t calm down. It is just impossible to run the shows with him.”

“Emory, sweet child, it is never a hassle or a difficulty to watch our grandchild. You know that! Nobody expects you to run a full music festival with a child strapped to your chest, especially closing night!”

“I know, but he’s my responsibility, none of you asked for that.”

My dad shakes his head, “You have got to stop feeling guilty getting help from family. We all stepped in to take care of Hayes when Blair moved back home and your mother loves any time she gets to spend with Esme and Callum.”

“But he cries…” I tried to explain my reasoning for the hundredth time.

My dad put his hand up to stop me, “Yes, he cries. We know he cries and he needs somebody there to get him through whatever he’s going through but listen,” he pauses and in the silence, I realized that I didn’t hear the faint crying that has been my soundtrack for the last few months.

“He’s asleep?”

“I’d say about twenty minutes ago the crying turned to whimpers and then nothing. Your mom is still in there with him, just in case, but he’s fine and we are too.”

“I love you both so much, Dad.” Unable to control my emotions, I start to cry. Dad wraps me in his arms and gives me one of those good bear hugs that only a dad can provide. “I’m so proud of you, Em,” he whispers, “this year has been one of your hardest, but you’ve grown in so many ways because of it. I’m just so proud of you.”

His compliments only lead to more tears, ironic that my son isn’t crying, but here I am. I really am a mess. I wouldn’t change anything about the events that led to Callum's birth, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were a little different. Here I am, trying to do it all, but I constantly feel like I’m failing. It feels good, but also a little bit sad, for my dad to tell me how proud he is of me. Am I really doing that great of a job when I’m spread so thin?

“I’m going to go relieve Mom of her duties,” I finally say after I’ve calmed myself enough to stop crying.

My dad smiles at me again, “She really does love spending time with him, sweetheart, even through all the tears.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I drop my purse on the couch and head up to the room mom converted into a nursery when Esme was born. She takes her job as a grandma very seriously. I expect to see her holding Callum while he sleeps, he much prefers gentle movement over being still, but when I open the door to the room, I’m surprised to see her in the rocker without a baby in her arms.

“Hey,” she whispers. “I heard you come in. How was the concert?”

“It was great, Mom,” I match her low volume. “I feel bad for leaving before everything was wrapped up, but my team practically pushed me out.”

“Of course, they did.” Mom looks over to the crib, “He’s asleep and seems content.”

“Dad said it took a while. I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Stop apologizing, Emory. You cannot control what is going on with him and you’re doing everything you can to get some answers.”

The answers were what I wanted. The pediatrician in Strawberry was a very kind man, but he did not take my concerns with Callum seriously. At first, he blamed the crying on being hungry, said my milk must not have come in or he wasn’t getting anything in his system. I found a lactation consultant to meet with online and we went through a bunch of scenarios and determined there was nothing wrong with my milk production. 

After that, he suggested an allergy. I worked with the lactation consultant again to cut out things from my diet that might be the cause. I was down to practically a vegan rabbit diet and he was still having these huge crying fits. Even after changing to a special formula, nothing worked. That’s when he just said it was colic, that it was normal, and that he would grow out of it. 

“I’m just hoping for something, you know? It’ll just give me some hope that it won’t always be like this.”

“Here, take a seat, Em.” My mom got up from the rocker, “You’re probably exhausted.”

“No, Mom,” I wave her off. “I really should just be getting home with him.”

“Emory, he’s sound asleep, just let him sleep.”

“I can’t, Mom. I’ve let enough people watch him this week. I can’t pawn him off once again.”

“You’re so stubborn. You don’t have to leave him here, but you can at least leave him sleeping and use the bed next door. I’ll even give you the monitor so you’re the one that has to get up with him,” she smirks, knowing that she’s got me there.

“Fine, Mom, but I’m making breakfast in the morning as a thank you.”

She kisses my temple, “Deal, but there is one more thing you have to let me do.”

Sighing, I take a seat on the rocker. She may have offered the bedroom, but I’ll probably just sleep here. “What else do you want, Mom?”

“Well, calm down now, Emory. You’re getting a little too excited over there.”

“Oh hush,” I shake my head. “What is it, Mom? Just let the cat out of the bag.”

“Your appointment this week, please let me go with you.”

“Oh, Mom, there is no way you want to go with me. It is just a routine visit with a different pediatrician.”

“I want to be there to support my daughter as she supports her son. You never know what this new doctor might say, two sets of ears are better than one.”

I think about it and she’s right. Considering how foggy my concentration has been for…well..months now. “I’m planning on driving up the day before. Can you handle staying in a hotel room when to two of us?”

“Stop asking silly questions, Emory. I would do anything for my children. I know you know that.”

“I do, Mom. I get everything now.”