Lymber craft's Arc

Chapter 36 of 70

By Wednesday morning Paul had not slept a full night since the clinic. Lymber woke to the sound of Jett crying and the smell of burnt toast. She heard Paul in the kitchen telling Violetta to sit down, please sit down. The puppy barked. Something metal hit the floor. Lymber sat up slow and pressed her hand to her stomach. The rule was one trip down the stairs a day. She had already used it yesterday to sit on the couch and watch Paul try to feed both kids at once. She had watched him drop a spoon and pick it up and drop it again. She called her mother from the bed. She said, we need help. Polly said she was already in the car. Polly came through the front door twenty minutes later with a grocery bag and her own coffee. She looked at Paul. Paul was holding Jett on one hip with a burp cloth over his shoulder. Violetta was under the kitchen table with the puppy and a bowl of dry cereal. Paul had a red mark on his jaw where he had cut himself shaving in a hurry. Polly said, go upstairs. Paul said, I've got him. Polly said, go upstairs and sleep. I'll wake you at noon. Paul handed her the baby. He did not argue. He climbed the stairs without looking back. Polly put Jett in the bouncer and wiped the counter with one hand while she drank her coffee with the other. She coaxed Violetta out from under the table and got her dressed. She let the puppy outside and back in. She heated a bottle. Lymber came down the stairs, one trip, and sat on the couch. Polly handed her the baby without asking. She said, you can hold him sitting. Ten pounds is ten pounds standing. Lymber held Jett against her chest and felt him settle. Polly sat on the arm of the couch. She said, Paul is going to break if you let him. Lymber said she knew. Polly said, I'll come every morning for two weeks. Not one. Two. You need it and he needs it and the kids need a house that isn't on fire. Lymber said she couldn't ask her to do that. Polly said, you didn't ask. She said it flat, the way she said most things. She said, I'm not running your life. I'm running your mornings. That's different. At noon Paul came down in a clean shirt. His eyes were less red. He took Jett from Lymber and kissed the top of her head. Polly was already at the sink washing bottles. Violetta was asleep on the rug with the puppy against her back. The house was quiet for the first time in three days. Lymber watched her husband hold their son without shaking, and she understood the recovery would hold now. The wedding ring on her finger still felt new. The next appointment was Friday.