Do You Think You're Up For This?

“But when I get home to you, I find the things that you do will make me feel alright. When I'm home everything seems to be right, when I'm home feeling you holding me tight.” – The Beatles

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Suzie

I’m napping in the waiting room, when suddenly William’s cellphone goes off. I don’t listen meanwhile he carries on a short conversation with whoever’s on the other line. He suddenly stands up.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“The guys need someone to pick them up from the airport,” he answers.

“I’ll do it,” I offer, standing up as well. “You haven’t seen the baby yet, and I’ve been stuck here since yesterday with Rae. You should go in.”

“I’ll tell Rae where you went,” he nods, agreeing. I leave the waiting room only to run into Rae’s parents, who are just arriving.

I continue on my way after assuring them that Rae and the baby are fine, and Michael is here as well.

As much as I hate the inevitable drive in traffic up north to O’Hare, I need the time to think to myself.

More so to mentally prepare myself for the ride back with a car full of post-tour, exhausted, but somehow, still loud and obnoxious boys.

After helping them load their luggage into the car, I’m too tired to give them many details about the baby, so they begin to talk amongst themselves, allowing me to tune them out.

I’m deep in my thoughts about babies and relationships and anything related to it when I feel Mike’s hand massaging my leg. We’ve just finished dropping everyone off.

“Knock it off, Mike,” I say in irritation. I’m trying to think, not that it matters. I yawn widely.

“You’re tired. Let’s go home,” he suggests.

“I don’t want to see a hospital for a long time,” I inform him agreeably.

“What’s the baby like?” he asks.

“I don’t know. He’s a baby. His name is Elliott,” I reply, shrugging. “I…Rae wants me to be godmother,” I add uncomfortably.

“That’s great,” he smiles. I don’t answer and pull over to park the car.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Mike says, once I unlock the door and he dumps his bags in the hallway.

“You pick,” I answer, dropping onto the couch in exhaustion. He puts a dvd in and joins me on the couch, pulling me into his arms.

It’s probably one of his favorites that I think is lame, but I don’t care; my eyes are closed and I’m falling asleep on his chest while the opening credits begin.

“Do you ever think about kids, Suze?” he asks quietly, but I’m half asleep already and it’s easier if I don’t answer.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rae

I hold open the door for Michael, who’s carrying Elliott into the apartment for the first time.

It’s such a relief to be out of the hospital and back at home, especially with Michael off tour now so we can both focus on taking care of Elliott for awhile.

Michael, William, and my parents had spent yesterday finishing setting up Elliott’s room so it would be ready when we got home.

I follow him to Elliott’s room.

“Do you like it?” he asks, glancing back at me after carefully placing Elliott in his crib. “Courtney and your aunt came by yesterday to help out, too.”

“Of course I do,” I answer, leaning against him while we watch Elliott sleep. His arms wrap around my waist and he kisses the top of my head.

The walls are still plain white since we hadn’t known what Elliott would be, but everyone did a good job with decorating the rest of the room.

“We have a lot of time off,” he murmurs against my hair.

I can’t help but smile.

Things are just looking better these days.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He’s so tiny. I can’t get over it.

Tiny hands, tiny nose, tiny feet, just…tiny.

I let him curl his tiny hand around my finger, and I close my eyes, feeling peaceful as I breathe in his clean new baby smell.

He has a soft patch of sandy brown hair, but refuses to open his eyes long enough so that we can determine whose eye color he has.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying here with him, but Michael eventually joins me on the opposite side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks finally, and I tear my gaze from Elliott to look at Michael.

“Waiting to see if he’ll open his eyes,” I confess. “I want to see what color they are. He always closes them before I can decide.” He laughs.

“I told my family they could meet Elliott tonight,” he informs me, smiling.

These first few days of our bringing Elliott home have been filled with family and friends constantly arriving at the apartment at all hours of the day. Since Michael’s parents and most of his siblings are in Australia, we had Nicola set up a webcam for them so we wouldn’t be limited to emailing baby pictures.

We’ve been getting non-stop emails, phone calls, and congratulatory cards from family, fans, friends in other bands, and the label.

“We should put him down for a nap then, so he’s not tired later,” I suggest, scooping him up in my arms to take him to his room.

Yet another knock on our door comes a few hours later, after we’ve just finished feeding him.

It’s the Butcher and Sisky, with matching grins on their faces and arms outstretched. William comes in behind them as well.

“Just be careful he doesn’t throw up on you, he just ate,” I warn Sisky, placing Elliott carefully in his arms.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think I want to hold him anymore,” Sisky frowns upon hearing this news, trying to hand him off to the Butcher, who backs away, his hands raised in defense. William takes him from Sisky’s arms.

“Did you name him what me and Butcher said-” Sisky begins.

“We did not name him Andrew Adam,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “Or Adam Andrew, either. It’s Elliott.”

“Well, we’re going to call him Baby Chiz,” Butcher informs us.

“Whose accent is he going to have?” Sisky continues with the questions.

I glance at Michael before laughing. That hadn’t even occurred to me.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I wake up to Elliott crying for what has to be the third time tonight. I glance at the clock. It reads 4:23 am.

“Michael, it’s your turn,” I say, but I can hear his soft snores even while the baby cries. I groan in frustration, dragging myself out of bed and across the hall to the baby’s room. “Why don’t you stop crying?” I sigh, picking him up and rocking him in my arms. He quiets a little, but I decide to heat up some baby formula in the kitchen in case he’s hungry.

I yawn, turning on the stove and getting the bottle warmed up before bringing it back to the living room with me. He’s finally quiet as he’s sucking down the baby formula, and I try to keep my eyes open.

I take him back to his room when he’s done eating, but then he’s crying again, so I sigh and settle myself in the rocking chair, humming as I rock him slowly even though it’s making me drowsy...

I wake up in a panic, realizing I fell asleep holding the baby and wondering what kind of horrible mother I am. I calm down, also realizing that I’m covered by a blanket and there’s a pillow behind my head that wasn’t there earlier.

I stand up, bringing the pillow and blanket back to the bedroom. I climb into bed beside Michael, who’s lying there peacefully with Elliott sleeping on his chest.

He turns his head to smile at me as I arrange the covers back over myself and scoot closer to him.

“I hope he looks like you,” I murmur, kissing his shoulder. He laughs and I start to sing softly.

“He likes your voice. See? He’s smiling, I think.”

“It’s too early for him to smile,” I point out, but I can’t help but smile myself.

I fall asleep again knowing that I have to savor small perfect moments like these.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Michael

“No, Seb, we didn’t name him Sebastian Jude!”

I laugh as I see her roll her eyes in exasperation as she listens to whatever Seb is saying over the phone.

“His name is Elliott. Well, tell him ‘Jude Sebastian Chislett’ just sounds stupid.” She sighs, glancing at me. “No. William’s the godfather.” She rolls her eyes for the second time. “Tell him Suzie’s godmother. No, he can’t have two-”

She’s wearing one of my t-shirts that’s too big on her with sweatpants and her hair in a messy ponytail.

She’s as gorgeous as ever.

I impulsively take the phone from her and hang up on Seb, tossing it onto the coffee table.

I’m sure he’ll understand.

“Michael-” she begins in surprise, but I interrupt by urgently pressing my mouth to hers, pulling her onto my lap by the waist. She smiles against my lips, running a hand through my hair. I slip my hands under her shirt, feeling her shiver as I tickle her soft skin.

We’re startled apart by Elliott’s loud cry.

“Rain check,” she says, kissing my cheek and then disentangling herself from my arms.

I follow her to Elliott’s room, lingering in the doorway as she picks him up and carries him to the changing table.

“Here,” I say, when she’s done, holding out my arms to give her a rest. Looking down at him, I’m still captivated. His eyelids open and close as he drifts back to sleep and I place him back in his crib.

“He has your eyes,” Rae tells me decisively, when we’re in bed for the night. I rest my forehead against hers and kiss her for what must be the hundredth time today. “I don’t think they’re green enough to be mine, but I'm not sure,” she continues, reaching over to tangle her fingers in my hair. “I hope he looks like you.” She's been saying that ever since we brought him home.

“Except for the teeth,” I joke.

“I like your teeth,” she grins, pulling my head closer to hers for another kiss.

I’m living for moments like these, because in a few months, these long perfect days with Elliott and Rae will be limited.