Until the question about getting married came up, of course.
But Zeke had swiftly changed that subject.
With a little help from his friends.
Those kids were…a lot. And she suspected watching them was like looking back on the Landry cousins when they were those ages.
It was all just a bit overwhelming and it made her want to crawl into Zeke’s lap, wrap her arms around his neck, and rest her head on his shoulder.
Which had to be the strangest urge she’d ever had in her life.
She wasn’t a cuddler any more than she was a hugger, but Zeke had a way of making her feel comforted and taken care of. And making her want more and more of it.
No, he didn’t have first-aid supplies at his house and he couldn’t make grilled cheese, but he made her feel sure that she would always have first-aid and grilled cheese if and when she ever needed them.
It was weird. And probably hormonal.
“What’s this?”
But it was obvious what it was. Ellie Landry, the owner of the most popular local restaurant and a cook extraordinaire, had just set down the bowl of frosted fruity cereal. She set a tiny silver pitcher next to the bowl that Jill knew held milk.
“I thought maybe you could use some comfort food.”
“I thought comfort food was stuff like pasta and grits and, around here, gumbo.”
“What comforts us depends on who we are.”
Jill blinked rapidly. She got fussed over by her own family, but it had been a while. She knew the teariness definitely had something to do with hormones. Still, she very much appreciated it.
“It’s that obvious I needed comforting?”
Ellie pulled out the empty seat next to Jill. Jill frowned. She didn’t remember there being an empty seat next to her. But before she could ponder that further Ellie was sitting and leaning in.
“You’re unexpectedly pregnant. And thrown into the middle of all of this. And you’ve only been here for six weeks. And things aren’t going so well at work. Yeah, I guess I figured maybe you needed comforting.”
“How did you know things weren’t going well at work?”
Ellie smiled. “Zeke talks about you a lot. Probably more than he realizes.”
Jill sighed. “That’s nice. Except that what he’s talking about is true.”
“Do you always get things right with the penguins?”
Jill thought about that for a moment. Then she nodded. “Yes. Penguins are the one thing I know for sure. I’ve spent my life studying them. Working with them. I’ve dedicated myself to them. All of my time and energy. And now, I’ve been entrusted with these eight and I can’t seem to make anything work.” She looked at Ellie. “How am I supposed to have a baby and make sure it’s safe and healthy and raised properly when I can’t even take care of the things that I have literally spent years figuring out?”
“Ah,” Ellie said, nodding. “And that’s why you need comforting.”
“Yeah, I guess so. No offense to your grandson and all, but Zeke and I don’t really have any business raising another human being.”
Ellie chuckled. “Why is that?”
“Because we are both completely irresponsible.”
“Now what makes you say that?”
“I can’t get to any appointments on time. I don’t remember birthdays or other important dates. He keeps falling off of things or getting hurt other ways. Neither of us should really be using a stove. If you give either of us anything other than cotton or denim we’ll probably ruin it.”
“The problem is that your definition of responsible is wrong.”
“What do you mean? Being responsible is being able to take care of things, right?”
“Being responsible is making sure that the things that need taking care of get taken care of. And I believe it means admitting when you’re not the best one to take care of something and calling whoever is. For instance, if something needs built or fixed, Zeke or Mitch should do it. But if your dog is sick, Tori or Griffin should take care of that. And if you need kickass shrimp creole or the best muffuletta you’ve ever had, you call Cora. But you want bread pudding that’ll ruin you for all others, you call me.”
“But shouldn’t we be the best ones for our baby?”
Ellie scoffed. “Having a baby means you just magically know how to fix everything and heal everything and make everything?”
“I guess…not.”
“I’ve done it five times. And those five have done it eleven more times total. And I can promise you that none of us have all the answers even now.”
“But…I like having answers.”
“You’re going to have to get over that.”
This wasn’t particularly reassuring.
“If it makes you feel better,” Ellie said, reading her expression. “By number five, you do know a bit more than you do with number one.”
“Number five?” she repeated. Jill felt her stomach turn over. And she wasn’t sure if it was her or the baby reacting to the idea of having four more.
“But I’ll tell you a secret…every one of those babies will be different—thank God—so no matter how much experience you get, it won’t totally prepare you. It’s not like bread pudding, or building houses.” Ellie shrugged. “Actually, I’m guessin’ it’s a lot more like taking care of penguins.”
“How so?”
“For all they have in common, I’m guessin’ those birds are all individuals, right? Just when you think you know what you’re doin’, one will surprise you.”
“Or eight of them will surprise you.”
Ellie smiled. “Exactly.”
“Considering nothing is going according to plan with the penguins, that’s not really comforting,” Jill told her.
“Oh, did you think I was trying to be comforting?”
“You weren’t?”
“The cereal is supposed to be comforting. I’m here to tell you that being uncomfortable is just fine. If you’re not feeling discomfited about being a mom, you’re not taking it seriously enough.”
Jill felt how wide her eyes were. “So I should be worried and there’s nothing that can make me feel better?”
“I don’t know about should or shouldn’t… you just will worry. So there’s no sense in worrying about the worrying. What you can do about it, is ask for help. If nothin’ else, havin’ other people worry with you feels better than worryin’ alone.”
Jill thought about that. She appreciated Ellie’s honesty. She wasn’t saying it was all going to be all right. Which Jill wouldn’t have believed.
“It’s like a hurricane,” Ellie said.
“Having a baby is like a hurricane?” Jill asked.
“For sure. Once it’s comin’, it’s out of your hands to slow it down or stop it. You just have to hold on tight to something that’s anchored deep, pray a lot, and get ready to clean up a lot of mess.”
Jill gave a soft laugh. But…she looked at Zeke. Hold on tight to something that’s anchored deep. Yeah. She had that.
“And cleaning up messes is easier with more hands,” Ellie said. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”