Chapter Twenty Nine - Goodnight

It was the 30th day of Astron, and Lilas was due to give birth in a little less than three weeks. In the weeks since Pippin’s birthday, she and her husband travelled into Tuckborough to purchase new baby furniture for the nursery. All the day long, Pippin and Merry finished setting up the new furniture while Lilas decorated. The three hobbits worked all day fitting together the pieces of the wardrobe, crib, and cradle--which would go in their room until the baby was able to sleep comfortably throughout the night. All twelve knitted baby blankets were piled neatly inside the little wardrobe along with a few baby clothes given to her by distant Took or Banks relatives. The ladies of the Smials were planning a Baby Tea for Lilas in the coming days.

Lilas stood at the door surveying the décor, absently chewing her fingernail. She loved the yellow curtains her sisters-in-law and friends had helped her to sew. Perhaps someone would surprise her with a matching linen set. A sudden sharp pain was felt under her lower rib; gasping, she melted into the nearby rocking chair.

Merry noticed her grimacing. “Are you all right, Lilas?”

Pippin turned towards his wife, then crouched next to the rocker, “He’s kicking again, isn’t he?”

Lilas nodded mutely. Exasperated with the near constant kicks and movements from the baby, she took a breath then said, “I can hardly wait until this is over with!” Her annoyance showed when she stressed the last couple of words. Lilas saw the gaping stares from the lads. “Being pregnant, I mean. I want t’ hold my daughter--t’ watch her sleep…t’ dress her up in ribbons and lace.” Lilas imagined herself strolling in the garden, pushing her beautiful daughter in the pram for all to see.

“Getting up at two o’clock in the morning for feedings…changing his soiled nappies!” Pippin interjected. He had a wry grin on his face as he winked at Merry.

Then Merry added in Lilas’ defense, “Watching her grow up into a pretty young lass…”

“Don’t side with her, Merry!” Pippin nudged his cousin. “HE! You have to remember he’s a HE.” His attention was now directed at Lilas. She had reached into a box of knick knacks and was now primping the yarn-hair of a rag doll in her hands. “No!” he said, shaking his head. The symbol of the doll’s gender not lost on him he repeated his efforts, “No rag-dolls allowed, Lilas!”

Ignoring her husband’s pleas, the pregnant lass slowly got to her feet, then as if the doll were a true hobbit-infant, she gently laid the doll in the crib, then began humming a soft lullaby.

“She’s gone and cracked now,” Pippin murmured to Merry.

Merry gawked at the most unusual scene that played out before him. He spoke in a soft voice, “I think you’re right.”

Lilas looked at Pippin, narrowing her eyes, “I’m not cracked--I’m practicin’.”

Merry was still staring, “Practicing what?”

“I’m practicin’ being a Ma,” replied Lilas, tucking imaginary blankets around her “baby”.

Merry looked at his young cousin, nudging him, “Go on! Help her.” He grinned wickedly, “You’re going to be the baby’s Dad.” His eyes twinkled with mischief when Pippin stared at him in disbelief. Merry added, “I want to see you cradle and kiss the little lass.”

“I’m not kissing a rag-doll, Merry!” Pippin hissed in retort.

Merry gasped in mock horror, “You’re not rejecting your own flesh and blood, are you?”

“Stop it, Merry!”

Merry was almost laughing; he thoroughly enjoyed teasing Pippin whenever the opportunity presented itself. “For shame, Pippin! Not acknowledging your own child!”

Between Merry’s goading and Lilas’ imploring soft, brown eyes, Pippin didn’t know which hobbit he woud get back at first when this was all done. He inched closer towards the crib. Acknowledging his child--rejecting his flesh and blood! How absurd!

Lilas knew Merry was having a jest at her husband’s expense, so she went along with it. She tenderly lifted the “baby” out of the crib and held “her” out for Pippin. “Ye should at least kiss her g’night.”

“I am not!” he said, eyeing the rag-doll as if it carried a disease.

Lilas put her hands on her hips, the doll swaying in her grasp, “Ye have to! Ye’re her Pa!” The sparkle in her brown eyes suddenly clouded over, then she held the doll aloft for Pippin to take. She said more softly, “Kiss her.”

Pippin wondered if Lilas was still playing a game with him, or if she was now serious. He glanced back at Merry who was no longer laughing; he merely shrugged at his cousin. Pippin took in a deep breath. “No one had better ever find out about this!” He took the rag-doll from his wife, then held the “baby” in his arms. Slowly and tenderly, he laid a kiss on “her” forehead. “Goodnight…,” he stole a look to Lilas who seemed to be watching him unresponsively. There was something deeper going on behind those brown eyes. “…Rosebud.” There--he said it. Not Boromir, not Mellessë …but Rosebud. Pippin saw that those same brown eyes now glistened with tears.

Merry, seeing a private moment was forthcoming, quietly excused himself, leaving the couple alone in the nursery.

Pippin took his wife in his arms, “What’s wrong, Lilas?”

She sniffed before answering, “Promise me that ye’ll kiss her every night? Every night--not just the ones when ye’re not angry with her?”

Promises weren’t necessary for the young Took; he had grown up with his parents tucking him or his sisters into bed at night. Or bidding them a goodnight’s sleep every single night of their lives until the day they moved out. Hugs and kisses at bedtime were as natural as breathing in Paladin’s home. In contrast, Pippin remembered the demeanor of her father when they visited Chestnut Lane. Sad thoughts stabbed at his heart; Pippin imagined a lonely little girl desperate for her father’s love in a simple goodnight kiss. He very much wanted Lilas to know that it would be different in their family. He gently squeezed her shoulders, “I promise I will kiss her every night of her life.” He held Lilas for a long moment until she felt protected once again. Cradling their “baby” once more in his arms, he gave “her” another kiss, “Good night, sweet Rosebud. I love you.” He then carefully lifted the imaginary blanket before laying the “baby” down. He turned to Lilas, “Has she been fed and changed?” Lilas smiled and nodded. Pippin then brought the “blanket” over the doll.

Pippin guided his wife out of the nursery and into their bedroom. “You’ve had a long day,” he said. “It’s past your own bedtime, young lass.” Pippin helped her into her nightgown then helped her into the bed. He could see that she was exhausted. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, “Goodnight, Lilas--I love you.”