It Must Be Fate

She had never married, despite having plenty of interest. She had no real interest in any of them however. All she truly wanted was to have a child, a desire that had led her to medical intervention. It had worked, she had been expecting a beautiful baby boy, and then weeks before her due date, she was told the baby had no heart beat. Burying that child had been the hardest thing she’d ever do, something her heart would never heal from.

Lady Cygna Threadbare didn’t have any children.

So why had she been awoken to the sound of a baby crying?

Is this a hallucination? She sat up in her bed, despite being sure this was her grief addled mind making her hear things that weren’t there. Still the crying continued, and she threw the covers off her to investigate. As she stepped into the hallway, she realised the sound seemed to be coming from outside her house. She lived in the middle of nowhere, her nearest neighbours living a few miles away, so it couldn’t be anyone nearby with a new child.

She made her way down the stairs, realising the crying seemed to be coming from behind her front door. She approached, her heart almost beating from her chest and her stomach doing flips. She slowly opened the door.

On her front step, was a small cardboard box.

And there they were, the smallest baby wrapped in grey cloth, crying their little heart out.

Her breathing hitched, and without thinking twice she bent down, gathering the baby in her arms. The poor child was freezing to the touch, how long had they been out here? How long had they been crying before Cygna heard them?

“Hush now, it’s okay,” Cygna softly whispered, holding the child close. She needed to warm them up. “I’ve got you little one, you’re safe now.”

How could someone be so cruel? To leave a defenceless child on her doorstep! The barbaric nature of the act was vile. She glared down at the box as if it had answers, noticing there seemed to be a slip of paper that had been left underneath the child. She reached down for it, turning it over to see the message left for her.

“I’m sorry. Please take care of him.”

Him. This child was a little boy. Like the one she had to bury.

She blinked back tears as the boy began to cry again. Shaking her head, she quickly closed the door. I need to keep him warm. She walked to her living room, finding a much thicker and fluffier blanket to wrap the boy in. The softness of the new blanket seemed to calm him down.

Oh, what should I do? She knew she should contact the authorities but… What if this was her chance? She had wanted a child. And here one was, left on her doorstep. Cygna very much believed in the concept of fate, and oh, how this chance encounter seemed like fate to her.

She reached for her phone, resting the baby against he shoulder, as she inputted a very familiar number. Oh please pick up.

“Hello?” A very groggy voice came through the other end.

“Hetchel, I am so sorry to wake you up,” Cygna apologised, bouncing the baby slightly as he started to fuss.

“Lady Cygna, my child, what on earth has possessed you to ring me at this time?” Before Cygna could even think of a response Hetchel continued with, “you should be resting.”

“There’s a child,” Cygna softly replied. Hetchel made a confused sound. “I woke up to the sound of a baby crying, and I found him in a cardboard box on my doorstep.”

Hetchel was quiet for a moment, before asking “what do you mean? A baby? In a cardboard box?”

“I think someone’s abandoned him,” Cygna explained. “He was so cold Hetchel, I don’t know how long he was out there.” Another horrifying thought came to her mind as the baby gently gurgled in her ear. “Oh, what if he hasn’t eaten? I don’t have anything to feed him with. What do I do?”

“Shh, my child, you need to calm down,” Hetchel softly said, and Cygna could hear rustling in the background. “I am on my way. I will make sure to bring some formula. For now, just make sure to keep him warm.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod, despite Hetchel not being able to see the action. “Okay I will, thank you Hetchel, thank you so much.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hetchel softly reprimanded. It reminded Cygna of when she was a child and Hetchel was caring for her. “I will be there soon.”

The phone call was dropped, and Cygna decided that she should put all her attention into the child while she waited for help. She cradled him in her arms, like she’d been taught to do in her mothering classes. She gently touched his cheek, relieved when he seemed a lot warmer than he had when she first found him.

He needs a name.

She couldn’t keep referring to him as the baby or the child. The note had not given him a name, so Cygna decided it was up to her.

“Bobbin,” she said softly, and the baby cooed, almost like he was approving of her name. “Your name is Bobbin Threadbare.” There was no doubt about it. Bobbin had been brought to her by fate, there was no way in hell he was anyone’s baby but hers. “From this point on, you are the most important thing in my life. I will not let anyone ever hurt you again.”

Bobbin’s little mouth quirked, and she was so sure he was trying to smile at her. She wasn’t sure what the future held for them, but she knew this.

Bobbin was her son, and he would be loved.

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