Milo narrows his eyes at me. “Show me to the coffee but give me a crucifix to ward off the fruitcake.”
I snort, and he follows me inside the house into the kitchen.
He’s going to fit right in in this family.
Chapter Fourteen
Cecily
It feels nice to be outside, walking amongst the trees and crunching in the snow with Milo by my side and a baby nestled against me for warmth. I was at first put off when Milo asked if I wanted to go for a walk, thinking he had no idea what it takes to just get out the door with a baby. But then I grew pleasantly shocked as I watched him do all the baby things. Milo stocked the diaper bag full of all the necessities, even an extra change of clothes for the little one and an extra blanket. I took care to mark a small tree near the cabin by tying one of my spare winter scarves around the trunk.
As we wander through the snow, Milo carries the diaper bag for me and points out icy patches on the footpath. He keeps his pace slow despite his usual long stride.
“How do you know so much about babies?”
His hands are stuffed into his pockets, and he shrugs. “I babysit for my brother sometimes.”
“You do not! Are you trying to give me baby fever?”
He laughs and tells me about his family in Philly, his two younger brothers and a sister. The middle brother has two kids under the age of 5, and whenever Milo is in town, he watches the kids so his brother and his wife can have a day date.
“That’s so nice of you to fit it in,” I say.
“Suzy struggled with postpartum depression after the second baby was born. They didn’t know a lot about it, but I just wanted to help, so I work it into my schedule.”
How could I not fall in love with this man?
I reach over and grasp his bare hand in my mittened one and say, “Your hands must be freezing.”
He squeezes. “All good now.”
Just then, Freya starts to fuss.
I wait for the fussing to pass, but then I feel the thing I’ve been dreading. A rumble near her bottom vibrates through the carrier’s layers of fabric, and it’s so powerful I feel it through the blanket that’s wrapped around us.
“Oh shit, better head back,” I say, shivering. “It’s getting colder; I don’t want to change her diaper out here in the woods. Well, I don’t want to change her at all; I’ve never done it before.”
After we turn around and start heading back to the cabin, we pass a fork in the footpath that I don’t recall seeing before. Uh oh. Scanning the distance, I don’t see the cabin anywhere. Judging by where the sun is, I can tell we’re headed in the right direction. I think.
“How long have we been gone?” I ask.
Milo checks his watch. “About an hour?”
I know we’ve been ambling, but that could mean we could be two miles away from the cabin at this point. “We’d better pick up the pace, or it’ll be dark by the time we get back. I don’t want Chloe and Phillip to worry.”
Fortunately, my parents have always been a little bit adventurous with us kids ever since they were young. Maybe because they were so young when they got married, they were clueless and fearless. I take after both of them.
“They showed me how to tell the direction by the sun’s location so I would never get lost. And it works. I can’t tell you how many times my GPS has failed me because of traffic jams or closed roads, and I find my way home because I just know I have to head east or west.”
We continue onward for some time. Freya’s fussing starts to turn into crying and eventually into wailing.
“I know we’re headed in the right direction, but I don’t know how much longer. How much time has passed?”
He answers that only fifteen minutes have passed since we turned around, which means even at this pace, it could be thirty or forty minutes before we reach the cabin. If we’re even on the correct trail.
“I know that kind of cry,” Milo says. “She’s really uncomfortable.”
“What should we do? I don’t want to change her out here in the cold,” I say.