Chapter Text
“Angel my bum,” Luke mumbled under his breath as he made a futile attempt to study his history. It had only been a couple weeks since the newborn Elizabeth came home, and Luke was already eager for her to leave. How could such an innocent little girl make so many awful screeching noises? Sure, he had put up with Lizzy’s tantrums for the first few days, but now he was just tired of it, in both senses of the word. Her crying was even louder at night, making it almost impossible for him, let alone anyone else, to sleep.
On top of that, Luke figured there wasn’t a single moment the baby didn’t need something. First it would be food, then a diaper change and, occasionally, she would be found sobbing in her crib because her blanket wasn’t wrapped to her liking; the list could go on. When Luke would try to ask Claire a question, her answer would always be the same: “Not now, Luke, I need to go take care of Lizzy. Maybe later.” Oftentimes he had already figured it out for himself by the time she got back to him.
The boy’s train of thought was interrupted by Claire, who was standing across the room with the wailing infant in her arms. “Luke?” she pleaded. “Help?”
With a long sigh, the boy reluctantly stood up and crossed the room. He knew the drill. He stretched out his left index finger, Lizzy’s personal favorite, and offered it to her. She immediately grabbed onto it, and, as always, her crying slowed to soft hiccups. “Can’t you find her a toy or something?” Luke questioned. “I kind of need my finger back.”
“I’m sorry, Luke,” Claire sighed. “It’s the only thing that will keep her quiet.”
Luke let out a long sigh. “You should be glad!” his mother said, attempting to cheer him up. “Very few can pacify a baby with a single finger!”
“I guess,” Luke responded solemnly. He paused. “She doesn’t like me better, does she?” he whined. “You’re her mum, so why doesn’t she stay quiet around you?”
“Babies are strange that way; you can never tell what they’re thinking.” With her free hand, Claire gave the boy a soft pat on the head. “In fact, I remember someone else who was difficult to please…”
Luke’s eyes lit up. “Really? Who?”
Claire laughed sweetly. “You, of course! And especially when it came to food! I could only get you to nurse when I had eaten certain things. Chocolate in particular. And absolutely no carrots.”
The boy laughed as well. “I still don’t like carrots!”
“I remember the first time you wouldn’t eat… I was so afraid. But when I took you to see the doctor, he said that some babies are just particular.” She smiled at him. “I’m just glad you liked chocolate.”
Luke smiled in return, his grin growing as he heard a light snore coming from the tightly-wrapped bundle in his mother’s arms. “Finally,” Luke sighed, pulling his finger out of Lizzy’s grasp.
Claire laughed softly and whispered, “Why don’t we go see what the Professor’s up to? I’m sure he’d be glad to spend a little time with his daughter while she’s still sleeping.”
Luke nodded enthusiastically and followed the mother to Layton’s personal study. “Professor,” Luke whispered to him through the door. “Look who came to visit!”
Layton looked up from the papers on his desk and smiled. The boy, taking his father’s warm smile as permission to enter, bounced into the room. “She’s asleep now, so we thought that you might like to hold her when she isn’t crying!” Luke grinned.
The Professor chuckled quietly. “I suppose it’s worth a shot.”
Claire approached his side and carefully laid the infant in his arms. A sniffle, a wince, and an unhappy squirm later, she was already back in her mother’s arms. There was not a doubt in his mind; his suspicions were confirmed.
“Hershel, don’t worry yourself,” Claire said in an attempt to soothe him.
“No, Claire,” he replied bluntly. “I can’t keep lying to myself, so I’m facing the facts: my own daughter doesn’t like me!” His voice became strained, momentarily losing his gentlemanly composure.
“That isn’t true, Hershel. You know better than to come to irrational conclusions like that.”
“But if it’s so irrational then why am I the only person she can never be content with?”
Claire thought carefully for a moment, her gaze drifting to Lizzy. “I’m… not quite sure,” she slowly replied. “But I know that she’s not going to go on with life ‘hating’ you. You’re her father. And you are far too kind for anyone to hate."
He was quiet for a moment. “Do you really think so?” Layton asked, his cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of embarassment.
“I know so,” Claire insisted, smiling brightly. She leaned over and gave him a light kiss. “You’ve done a fine job raising Luke,” she continued in a whisper. “I know you can do just as well with Lizzy.” She could see a little glimmer in his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned upward, his worries dissipating.
“May I?” the Professor asked, holding out his arms. She gently placed the squirming babe into his arms. She whined unpleasantly, and Layton rocked her gently. “Now, Elizabeth,” he chuckled, “I’m your father, so that means I’m going to have to hold you once in a while!” Lizzy’s whines slowly and eventually transitioned to a softer gurgle.
Claire and Luke both grinned, glad to see Layton more at ease. “Who knows?” Luke chirped. “Maybe this means I won’t be the only one who can calm her down!”
His mother laughed. “I wouldn’t quite count on it just yet."