Frosted Midnight: A Christmas Novella by Breena Wilde, !2 NAs of Christmas Page B

tree.
    My mom and Heather nodded in agreement.
    “I’d go see him, Willow dear. He needs to know about Emma, take some responsibility.”
    That made me angry.
    “Why should he get to swoop in, pretend to be the hero, and have any part of her life? He missed the midnight feedings, the colic, the first time she smiled.”
    My mom pushed the thick auburn curls off my sweaty neck. “Is it fair that he’ll miss anymore? Especially with… you know… it’d be nice if Emma had her father around.”
    I sighed. Tears filled my eyes. “What if I tell him and he doesn’t want her? What if he rejects us , me, again? I-I don’t know if I can handle that.” I shook my head, sat down on my Christmas-themed slipcovered couch, and put my head in my hands.
    My mom sat beside me. Sara sat on the other side. Heather and Liv kneeled in front. I took in each of them, so grateful for my family. We’d survived without a father. Emma would survive too, especially if she kept these amazing women in her life.
    “If he makes that decision, then he makes that decision. Then we’ll know for sure he’s a fucking idiot and we can move on,” Liv said, pulling me into a hug. 
    “I’ll stay tomorrow night and watch Emma. Then you won’t need to worry,” my mom said, wiping her eyes.
    “Thanks mom.” I sniffled.
    Heather stood. “’Kay, we’ve got wrapping to do and a movie to watch.”
    “Right, let’s get to it,” Sara added.
     

     
    After my mom and sisters left I read the email from Austin again. And again. And again. I also finished off my eggnog and had another. Not the smartest move with all of the medication I was taking, but Austin had thrown me for a loop. At two-thirty in the morning I responded:
     
    Austin,
     
    I’ll be there, but no funny business.
     
    W.
     
    Then I proceeded to wish I could take it back. How could I assume there’d be funny business? Of course there wouldn’t be. He left me, like, got out of my bed, walked out, and never came back. Why would I think he’d want more of that… more of what I had to offer? The stupid words ate at me until I finally fell asleep on the couch.
    It seemed like moments later Emma’s cries woke me. I went into her little room. As soon as she saw me, she stopped crying and smiled.
    That was all it took to change my mood. It didn’t matter if men didn’t find me attractive. It didn’t matter if the man I still loved rejected me. What mattered was the sweet girl smiling up at me from her crib.
    I picked Emma up and changed her. Then we went into the kitchen where I sat her in her bouncy chair, made her bottle, and turned on the coffee.
    When the bottle was warm, I went into the living room and sat in my favorite old wooden rocking chair. It was the same one my mother had rocked me in when I was a baby.
    “You ready, Emma girl?” I cooed.
    She smiled and drank. Content. Her eyes held mine and I wondered if she knew, if she understood how much I loved her, how I would do anything to protect her and keep her safe and happy. Anything within my power, anyway.
    “Positive thoughts, Will,” I told myself in a soft voice.
    Emma let go of the nipple and smiled as though encouraging.
    “I can’t die, right? I have too much to live for.”

 
     
     
    I spent the day with Emma. We went to the beach because she loved to listen to the birds and the rushing sound of the ocean waves coming onto the sand. Then we at e lunch at a restaurant that overlooked the beach—well, I ate clam chowder and Emma napped.
    When we got back to our cozy house my mother was there, her Rover parked in front. She got out and helped me get Emma out of the car.
    “Did you forget your cell phone again?”
    I shrugged, unsure about whether I had it or not.
    My mother clucked her tongue. “What if something happened? What if there’d been an emergency?”
    I was suddenly tense. I knew it was her job as my mother to worry, but it was irritating the crap out of me. “Nothing happened. I’m fine.