* * *
Ruby
I wakefrom dreams of babies and Jem, immediately on alert for her cry, exhausted after the third night of parenthood. I’m surprised to see the sun shining through the window and the large bedroom empty of Jem and our daughter. How did I sleep so late? I head out of the bedroom in my T-shirt and pants, and downstairs as I search for them.
The tiled floors of the old farmhouse are cool against my feet as I check the large kitchen, and the silence worries me—our house isn’t silent recently.
Then I see them.
Stretched out on the long sofa in the lounge lies Jem, shirtless with his daughter resting on his chest. His tattooed arms look odd surrounding her pink suit, the girl tiny against his broad chest. She’s facing me, her cheek pressed against her dad’s skin and lips parted, sleeping as peacefully as him.
An overwhelming surge of love for both of them pushes through my heart and soul. The calm of the scene and the peace on Jem’s face removes any doubt that when the baby arrived, he wouldn’t cope with the reality. His constant attention to us both, the pure love in Jem’s eyes when he looks at her, at both of us, is more than any child could ever want. Jem can give his daughter everything, but the most precious thing he can give her is in front of me. All-encompassing, selfless love that holds us together.
Jem shifts and tightens his grip on her, a curl falling across his face as he moves. I cross and kiss his forehead and he opens his eyes, looking at me in sleepy surprise. “She wouldn’t settle and I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers. “She likes to sleep like this apart from when she’s hungry and I don’t have the equipment.”
His mouth tips a smile at one corner and I kiss him. “Thank you.”
Jem cups his large hand around her head, stroking her face with his thumb. “Can we sort this name thing out, please? Bryn started calling her Diamond which is bloody stupid.”
I sit on the chair arm. “But we can’t agree and that never ends well.”
“Yeah, but this is one situation where we have to agree. I don’t think she’ll appreciate the name when she’s twenty.”
“I know, but after my mother’s fail at my name, I’m cautious.”
“I had a thought, but I’m not sure what you’ll think.” He rubs his cheek.
“A name?”
Jem nods and closes his other hand around mine. “I thought… Quinn.”
His words strike my heart. Nobody said his name for a long time. “Quinn?” I whisper.
“Quinn is a girl’s name too—and pretty cool. He sounds like he was a cool guy.”
My eyes fill with tears but despite the ache in my chest caused by the suggestion, the name makes perfect sense.
“Ruby?” Jem’s tone is cautious.
“I guess…”
The little girl shifts and murmurs, rubbing her face against him.
“See!” he says triumphantly. “She likes the name!”
“You’re funny. And yes. Quinn. You win.”
“Wow, I’ll add that to the short list of times I have.” He sits, carefully holding his daughter in place against his chest. “Come on, Quinn, let’s take a walk outside before your mum changes her mind, and wants to call you something boring.” He pauses. “What about her other name?”
“One thing at a time, Jem.”
The topic of marriage came up once and very briefly because I shot the conversation down before he got more than one sentence out. Not a proposal but one of Jem’s ‘we need to plan the future’ sessions. Jem bought me a ring, which he gave me the day Quinn was born, insisting this wasn’t a proposal but a commitment that he’ll be here forever.
I wish I could believe that in every corner of my soul, but I that will take time. Marrying Jem won’t take that doubt away, but I suspect my heart will win over soon enough. I twist the diamond and ruby ring around my right ring finger as we edge around the topic.
“She can have both surnames,” I say.
Jem smirks. “Quinn Butler-Jones. We sound like landed gentry.”