“Sure. What’s up?” Zach blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light in the hallway. At thirteen, he was as tall and lanky as his father had been at that age.
“I need a hand with Ella’s diaper.”
“So I smell.” Zach laughed. “I’ll be the wingman, but you’re piloting this one.”
I laid Ella down on another towel and mentally prepared for battle. Drawing a deep breath, I unsnapped her onesie.
Zach pulled a diaper and wipes from the bag and placed them beside me. “You got this.”
“It’s coming out the sides.” I reached and retreated several times, unsure where to touch her.
“How long has it been since you changed her?” Zach searched through the bag and pulled out tiny pajamas with feet.
“Maggie changed her before she left.” I opened the dirty diaper and swayed away from the odor. “My God.”
“Dude, that’s gross. What are you feeding her?” Zach covered his face.
“I don’t know. Formula, I guess.”
“She needs a bath, but we need one of those baby tub things.”
It seemed like I needed a lot of things…changing tables, bathtubs, nose plugs. “I can hold her over the sink while you spray her down.”
Zach motioned to me. “Let’s use wipes for now. Maggie will know what to do when she gets home.”
My hands felt too large for such a small baby. I couldn’t figure out how to clean her without going elbow deep in shit. After several attempts, I gave up and dove in. “Is it supposed to smell like that? Why’s it green?”
“I don’t know. Ryan’s stinks pretty bad.” Zach took a step back.
“Google it.” I pulled more wipes from the container. At this rate, I’d run out before dawn.
The kid whipped out his phone. “This is disturbing.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I couldn’t decide if it was better to breathe through my nose and smell it, or my mouth, and risk the odor sticking to the back of my throat.
“No look.” He shoved his phone in my line of vision. Pics of baby shit in a rainbow of colors filled the screen.
“Not helping.” My gag reflex took over.
He chuckled. “I’m still looking.”
Once I had Ella clean, I slid a new diaper under her butt and fumbled with the tabs. It looked looser than the one I’d taken off, but it stayed on. I eased clean PJs under her and stuffed her arm into a sleeve.
Ella cried until she shook, and her face turned an odd shade of magenta. “She’s turning purple.”
Zach helped me align the snaps along the inside of her legs. “They do that when they are pissed. She’s breathing, otherwise she wouldn’t be screaming.”
“True. Other than the images, did you find anything online?”
He picked her up and settled her against his shoulder. “Two webpages said smelly stools could be a food allergy. Maybe she’s allergic to milk?”
Ella quieted to whimpers and hiccupped breaths.
“We should call Maggie.” I fished my phone from my pocket.
“No, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Maggie doesn’t go out much. We shouldn’t bug her over poop.”
I followed him into the kitchen. If my brothers found out I’d asked the kid for help, they’d never let me live it down, but man-oh-man, was I grateful. “Should I feed her?”
“Yeah, good idea.” Zach traded me the baby for a bottle of water and a can of formula.
The instructions seemed simple enough. “This is a four-ounce bottle. The directions say two scoops. I mix drinks for a living. I think I can handle that.”
“You have to warm it in hot water.” Zach supervised as I made my first meal for my daughter.
I remembered Maggie said to test the temperature on the inside of my wrist. “I think it’s good. Now what?”
He took the bottle and brushed the rubber nipple across her lips until Ella got to work. “See, nothing to it.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I’d made my first bottle, and she seemed to like it. “Thanks. I’m clueless with this stuff.”
“You don’t have a lot of clothes for her. They go through a lot in a day. Plus, there’s poop on the blankets in the carrier.”
“I’ll put the dirty stuff in the washer.” I peeked around the corner at Chloe and Ryan, and glanced back to Zach.
“You need special baby soap.” He laughed, shaking his head. “You really are clueless.”
“Do me a favor and don’t tell your uncles.” I wondered if Ella would survive her first day in my care. “How come you know so much about babies?”
“I helped my mom out with Ryan when she had the baby blues. Do you want to try?” He held the baby up to me.
“Sure.” I fumbled to settle Ella into my arms but managed to coax her into finishing most of the bottle before she fell asleep.
“We should try to put her in the crib.”
I followed Zach down the hall to Joe and Rebecca’s room. The space looked the same as it had before they died, right down to the wedding photo on the nightstand. Why hadn’t Maggie changed anything? I’d be sleeping in a mausoleum.
The kid took Ella, laid her on her back, and lifted the side of the crib.
“Does she need a pillow?” I watched her sleep and wished I could crawl in with her. It had been one hell of a day.
“Not unless you want her to suffocate, and you shouldn’t use a blanket either. Her feetie-jammies will keep her warm.” Zach patted my shoulder. “It’s not hard, once you know the rules.”
“Thanks again, I owe you one.” I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off a headache. “One down, two to go.”
“Those two are easy. Ryan needs a bath, but you have to sit with him. Chloe’s attitude will drive you nuts, but she can shower by herself. Make sure they brush their teeth, and Ryan has to pee twice before bed, once after he brushes his teeth and again after you read him a story. Don’t give him anything to drink or he floods the bed.”
“I can handle that. Listen. I’m sorry I haven’t seen you much since your dad died.”
Zach shrugged. “You’re busy. We see you on holidays at Grandma Evelyn’s. It’s all good.”
“Are you still playing guitar?”
“Yeah, plus sax in the marching band.”
“We should jam sometime. Next time I go home, I’ll get my guitar.”
“We should do it at your place. Maggie freaks out if I play too loud.”
“Duly noted.” I returned the living room to check on the other two munchkins.
Maggie had done a remarkable job with the kids, but the house made me claustrophobic. She had piles of stuff on every available surface. I owed her one, a big one. I might not know anything about babies, but I could clean with the best of them.
“All right, troops. Gather around. We are going to do something nice for Maggie.” I rubbed my hands together as they approached. “Ryan, pick up your toys, and put them in the playroom.”
Ryan looked at me as if I’d grown a second nose. “Why?”
“Because Zach can’t vacuum with toys on the floor.”
Zach came down the hall. “Wait. How did I get sucked into this?”
“What do I do, Uncle Gabe?” Chloe beamed.
Pretending to consider her question, I tapped my chin. “You can put these clothes away. At least get them to the right bedroom, if you don’t know where they go.”
To my surprise, the kids got to work without being told twice. I started with the dishes. The tactical position gave me a central location to keep an eye on the munchkins while they worked.
The stacks of mail came next. I sorted what looked like household bills into one pile, personal mail in another, and junk in the garbage.
The kids put away their backpacks, extra shoes and coats. Once Zach vacuumed the fallen needles from the floor, the Christmas tree seemed to stand prouder. The thing really needed to go, but otherwise the place looked good.
I glanced at the clock. We didn’t have much time b
efore Maggie came home. “Bath time.”
“No bath!” Ryan made a break for it.
I grabbed him around the middle before he could escape. “Oh no you don’t, little man.”
Giggling and squirming, Ryan squealed, “I want a shower.”
I glanced at Zach and quirked a brow. He shook his head.
“Bath it is.” I tossed the boy into the air, catching him under his arms. “Chloe, take a shower in Maggie’s bathroom.”
A devilish expression crossed her face. Judging by the piles of lotions and potions, I doubted Maggie allowed her to shower in the master bathroom. Deciding to pick my battles, I let it go. How much trouble could she possibly get into?
“Zach, take my keys and get the black checkbook out of the glove compartment. Make sure you lock it and don’t even think about a joy ride.” I carried Ryan down the hall. This parenting thing wasn’t so bad.
Fifteen minutes later, I had the little man scrubbed down and in his PJs. The finish line was within my grasp. All I had to do was supervise teeth brushing and make sure Ryan emptied his bladder.
I walked into the living room and all hope of a moment’s peace evaporated.
Chloe hadn’t taken a shower. Makeup covered every inch of skin on her face, including her ears. She’d painted her nails, though I couldn’t tell if she’d used polish or a paint roller. She wore one of Maggie’s silk robes, also splattered with makeup, and a pair of her high heels. The girl looked like a miniature vampire, drag queen.
“Am I gorgeous, darling?” She preened.
For the first time in my life, I understood why animals ate their young.
“Is that nail polish?” Stupid question, the scent of chemicals hung in the air.
Chloe nodded.
“Are you allowed to play in Maggie’s makeup?” Also a stupid question. The woman didn’t allow junk food. She’d never consent to this.
Chloe bit her lower lip and shook her head.
“Go take a shower and wash that off your face before Maggie gets home. I’ll help you with the nail polish when you’re done.”
Chloe started toward the master bedroom, but I put my hand on her head and pointed her in the direction of the kids’ bathroom. “Uh uh. No way. Be careful, the floor is wet.”
The clock chimed ten times.
How the hell does Maggie do this alone day in and day out? I’d double down on convincing her to marry me. Whether she knew it or not, we needed each other.
8
Maggie
I walked through the front door, still thinking about the evening. It took me a moment to realize someone had cleaned the house. Even the two-month old Christmas tree looked better.
“Did you have a good time?” Gabe asked from the kitchen.
“Yes, I did. How are the kids?” I rounded the corner and found him at the island nursing a glass of whiskey.
“Chloe got into your makeup and nail polish, but I think I got it all off the countertop and floor. I couldn’t have done it without Zach. I gave him twenty bucks for his help. Otherwise, they’re bathed, tucked in, teeth brushed, and bladders emptied.”
“Sounds like you had fun.” I eyed his glass. “Where did you find that?”
He stood slowly, as if his muscles had stiffened from sitting too long. “Joe’s stash is still in the garage closet. Want a drink?”
“Really?” I’d gone through every inch of the house, except the garage. “Just one. I don’t drink much anymore.”
“I think Ella might be allergic to milk. Can you help me get her an appointment with a pediatrician?”
“I can, but are you staying?”
“Why would I change my mind?”
Why, indeed. So much for the kids freaking him out. “I’ll call the pediatrician first thing Monday, unless you think it’s an emergency.”
“Her poop is blackish-green and smells like the river, but she’s eating.”
“It’s probably nothing, but I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I started a grocery list and one for things I need for the baby. I hope you don’t mind I used your computer.”
“That’s fine.” I glanced at the stack of papers on the bar. My hand trembled as I picked up the second notice from the power company. “You paid my bills?”
“No. Your personal mail is unopened on the desk. I paid the household expenses.”
I started to speak, but he interrupted. “Consider it rent.”
I couldn’t believe it. Part of me wanted to yell at him for invading my privacy, but the other part wanted to hug him. It’d been a long time since someone had done something so nice for me. “Thank you.”
“When did you start dating?” Gabe pulled down a glass, poured a respectable amount of whiskey and topped it off with a splash of Coke to add color.
“Thanks.” I sipped the drink and gasped.
“You’re welcome.” He chuckled and reclaimed his barstool. “Are you avoiding my question?”
“A few months ago, on a dare.” I eased onto the stool next to him.
“A dare?” He ran his hand over his stubbly chin. “What kind of dare?”
Not wanting to go there, I shrugged. “How’s work?”
“Don’t change the subject. Tell me about this dare.”
“Shanna dared me to sign up for an online dating service. I went out with two guys from the site but took down my profile when I met Justin.”
He smirked as he refilled our glasses. “And it’s working out?”
Nope. “I guess.”
Gabe grew quiet.
I waited until I couldn’t stand the silence. “Three weeks is a long time to be away from your place.”
“If it’s an inconvenience, I’ll figure out something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I could use a vacation. Florida’s nice this time of year.”
I loved the idea of a few days with nothing to do except work and sleep. “The kids have next Monday off of school…”
“You’re pretty excited over a hypothetical trip.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “Or is it a couple of nights in a hotel with me?”
“You could take the kids to Disney with your parents. Your mother has them every other weekend anyway. Plus, you said you needed to talk to your dad. That way, I could get some work done and have a sleepover with Justin.” I had no idea why I’d suggested that—not when I’d rather sleep with Attila the Hun.
“Ella’s too young to travel.” Gabe grinned, seeming to hold back laughter. “Besides, Chloe told me your sleepovers end at eight-thirty, remember?”
I lifted my glass and downed half its contents. “My sleepovers are a lot of fun.”
“They used to be.” He flashed me a crooked grin and wiggled his brows.
“Not that I remember what a grown-up sleepover is like.” I ignored his damned grin and his eyes and his biceps. Instead, I focused on the countertop.
“How long has it been?” He emptied the remainder of the whiskey into my glass.
“Um…” I stared at the ceiling, making a show of counting on my fingers. “When did you dump me again?”
He choked on his whiskey. “What? Wait. You haven’t slept with anyone since me?”
Damn it, I should’ve lied. “I didn’t want to do the rebound thing. Then I was busy with school. Then Rebecca died…and the rest is history.”
He seemed to consider my words. “I thought you had a boyfriend now?”
“We’re taking it slow.” Why am I lying to him?
“Glaciers move faster, Mags.”
My face heated, though I doubted it had anything to do with blushing. The alcohol had gone straight to my head faster than this conversation had gone into the gutter. “I can’t…”
“Can’t what?” He turned to face me.
“Actually, he dumped me, but that’s not all. He did it loudly in a crowded restaurant and left me with the check.” I shot him what I hoped was a withering glare. “I spent the rest of the night at Shanna’
s watching bad cable and eating ice cream.”
“The guy sounds like an asshole.”
“He’s not the first asshole I’ve run across.” I folded my arms.
“I should have returned your calls.” Gabe reached for my shoulder.
“Water under the bridge.” I dodged his hand and went for my drink.
Gabe scooted the glass out of my grasp. “Is it?”
“Yes.” At least I thought it was until he’d showed up looking all sexy and cleaned my house and paid my electric bill. “Besides, I can’t jump in the sack with anyone. Your mother watches me like a hawk. She’s taking me back to court next month. If I start sleeping around, I’ll lose the kids quicker than the Baptists make it to Sunday brunch.”
Gabe slid the drink in my direction. “She doesn’t need to know.”
I raised the glass for a toast. “Here’s to your mother getting a new hobby besides harassing me.”
“Is she that bad?”
“She’s on me like a tick on a two-legged hound dog.” Imagining Evelyn clinging to a dog like a starving vampire made me giggle.
Gabe snorted and motioned to my glass. “More whiskey? You’re more fun drunk.”
“Why, thank you.”
“How’s work going? Are you writing another crime novel?”
I downed the remainder of my drink. “No. I haven’t had time to work on another book. I write society pieces. They’re garbage.”
“I’ve read your articles. They’re not garbage.”
“No one reads reviews for cultural events in New Orleans. Locals know what they like, and most tourists come for booze, boobs, and beads.” I winked. “Oh sorry, that’s right up your alley.”
“Just because I run a bar doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate culture.”
“I remember the ballet turned you on.”
“Thinking about what I would do to you after the ballet turned me on.”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to think of a snarky remark but snapped my mouth shut. Damn him, and his after-the-ballet sex talk.
Gabe grew quiet, which made me nervous. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Don’t be. I chalked it up to a learning experience. I’m over it.”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 5