“So, you were hungry. Good boy.” Brad collapsed against the couch in relief as Jarrod guzzled the milk. Eager gulps filled the air, and as Jarrod’s eyes locked onto Brad’s, an overwhelming surge of emotion permeated his chest. Nothing had come close to the elation, fear and joy that swirled within him as he gazed at his son.
How could this be real? How could he have a son? With the bottle empty, the teat slid out of Jarrod’s mouth, and he slipped into a milk coma. Brad’s eyes grew heavy, and the last thing he saw was the precious gift cradled in his arms.
Chapter 15
Brad could understand why Laura couldn’t cope with a newborn. After somehow managing to get through the rest of the day and evening, Jarrod had woken him every three hours overnight. Each time, Brad had wondered if there was something wrong with him. But after a feed, a burp and fumbling his way through a nappy change, Jarrod seemed to settle.
Since Laura left, Brad’s mind had turned to mush. His stomach growled, and he last recalled eating a handful of savoury crackers at some stage when he’d paced in the kitchen trying to settle Jarrod. Had it still been daytime? He couldn’t remember.
With his son cradled in one arm, he used his free hand to flick through the internet, searching for information on how to raise a baby. This was ridiculous. How could someone his age not know the basic needs of a baby?
Scrolling through the various sites revealed information overload and conflicting viewpoints. Some sites he visited advocated for routines from birth. Others said to let the child guide the way. Some championed co-sleeping, while others warned against it. Then there was the sleeping position – on their side, on their back or their tummy. His head pounded by the time Jarrod woke an hour later demanding food once again.
Somehow, they made it through another day, exhausted, but they’d both survived. The house was starting to look like a bomb site again, but Brad didn’t have the energy to clean. Nor could he remember what he was supposed to be doing. It was only when he settled in for an early night that he remembered he had promised to call Hannah the previous day. With the new addition to his life, he’d completely forgotten.
Grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he pulled up Hannah’s number and tapped out an apology. He asked how her weekend was and said that he hoped to see her soon. A few moments later, the screen illuminated the darkened room with an incoming message.
Fairly quiet weekend. I went for a few walks with Louie. Now I’m just preparing for the week. I’d like to see you again, soon, too.
Clutching the phone to his chest, his eyes drifted shut. A tremor of uncertainty ran through him as he thought of the brunette who had brought light into his gloom. How he was going to tell her about the new development in his life, he didn’t quite know.
Like clockwork, Brad woke to Jarrod’s cries three hours later. His eyes shot open, and his brain took a moment to process what the noise was. A baby. That’s right. His son. He kicked the covers back and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face to ward off the cotton wool that had filled his head over the past twenty-four hours. Morning seemed an eternity away.
With Jarrod settled in the carrier after another feed, Brad pulled out his phone.
“Sophie, I need a favour.”
“It’s almost midnight. Why are you calling so late?” she mumbled.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise the time. I need your help.”
“What’s wrong? Where are you? What have you done?”
“I’m at home, and I haven’t done anything.” Well, he had. And Jarrod was the consequence. He paced in front of the living room window, trying to figure out how to tell his sister the news. “Are you working tomorrow?’
“No, I’ve got the next few days off.”
He punched the air in victory. “Great. Can you come over first thing in the morning? Before I go to work?”
“What’s going on, Brad?” Concern and suspicion filled her voice.
“I’ll tell you in the morning. Promise me you’ll be here early.”
A resigned sigh filled his ear. “Sure. Anything else I need to worry about before I go back to sleep?”
“No,” Brad replied. You can worry tomorrow when you find out you’re an aunt.
Chapter 16
“You’re a father.” Sophie’s jaw dropped.
Brad nodded, holding a finger to his lips as he led her to the living room where Jarrod was sleeping soundly. He’d been up twice overnight, not counting the time before he rang Sophie. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Thankfully, Jarrod had settled both times after being fed and having his nappy changed.
With one hand on her hip, and the other kneading her brow, Sophie paced in the living room. Every now and then, her eyes darted over to Jarrod.
“Let me get this straight. Laura turned up on your doorstep claiming the baby is yours? And she left him here?”
Brad nodded.
“And you didn’t say no? You didn’t think, oh, I don’t know, that the baby might not be yours? That perhaps Laura’s playing you?”
“Soph …” He held out his hands. “What could I do? She was going to give him up for adoption. I don’t think she’s playing me. The dates add up. We had that awkward conversation. Jarrod is my son.”
“And you had no idea?”
“Nope.”
Sophie sank into the armchair, her breath whooshing out of her. “I don’t know what to say. This is crazy.”
“Yep.” More than crazy. It belonged in a category of its own.
“Does Mum know?”
Brad’s gaze shot to Sophie’s. “No, of course not. Could you imagine how stressed she would be?” Not to mention disappointed. But what was new? He’d always disappointed her. Detentions at school. Rebellious antics. Veering off the straight and narrow path. He’d never lived up to his mother’s expectations. And now, having a child out of wedlock would be the biggest disappointment of all.
Sophie slapped her hands to her knees and sat up straight. “You know what this means?”
Quirking an eyebrow, Brad slowly shook his head.
“It means that you need to sort yourself out now that you’ve got someone else depending on you. No more boozy binges. No more messy house. No more flitting between girlfriends.”
“Laura was my last girlfriend and look how that turned out.” Brad looked pointedly at his sister.
“Exactly. So whatever’s going on up here,” Sophie tapped her forehead, “you need to sort out because this little guy doesn’t need two deadbeat parents.”
“Tell me what you really think,” Brad mumbled. She was right, of course. In his short life, Jarrod already had one parent who didn’t want him, and one parent who hadn’t known of his existence. What a great start to life. Cupping his head in his hands, Brad tugged on his hair. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to breathe life into a failing business and raise a child?
“You’ll end up bald if you keep doing that,” Sophie remarked. He shot her a glare that diminished the smirk on her face. “But seriously, Brad. Mum would say pray about it. It probably wouldn’t hurt you to do that.”
The token platitude that everyone spouted off when times got tough. Pray about it. I’m praying for you. Give it over to God. How many times had he heard those phrases growing up? Did prayer actually work? All the prayers in the world hadn’t saved his father’s life. So, how was prayer going to help his situation? Was God going to miraculously save his business? Was He going to send down money from heaven? Was He going to swoop down and babysit Jarrod so he could work?
“And, we’ll have to get him checked over at the doctor’s to make sure he’s healthy and his immunisations are up-to-date.”
“His health record’s here.” At least Laura had thought to leave that for him.
Sophie scooted over to Jarrod’s soft crib and stroked a finger over his cheek. “He is adorable.”
“Of course, he is. He takes after me.” Brad chuckled, finding a moment of humour amid the situat
ion.
“He’d better not. I don’t want to be scraping him out of tricky situations when he’s older.”
Brad rolled his eyes before showing Sophie the bags that contained all the baby supplies. The formula was in the kitchen, and he’d sterilised the bottles by boiling them in hot water as per the instructions he’d discovered on a health website.
“Look at you.” Sophie patted him on his back. “Instant Dad and doing awesome.”
“I don’t know about that.” Brad grabbed his cap and keys off the bench.“But we’ve survived so far.”
“And you’ll continue doing so.” Sophie shoved him toward the front door. “Now, go. Have a good day. And don’t worry about us.”
“Sorry for this, Soph. But I really appreciate your help. Don’t be a bad influence on my son,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Me?” Pressing a hand to her chest, she shook her head. “Never. I’m the one who’ll steer him away from all the bad influences.”
Brad left the house and jogged to the ute parked in the driveway. He started the engine and a myriad of emotions swept through him as he drove away. Anxiety about leaving his son. Fear about his future. And something that felt a lot like joy bubbling deep inside his chest.
Chapter 17
The rest of the week passed by in a blur. Morning and night merged into one endless time warp, and Brad couldn’t tell what day it was or which way was up. Caffeine had become his lifeblood, and he felt like he’d done a few rounds in the ring. Sophie didn’t look much better. They’d been tag-teaming Jarrod’s routine, although she had done the majority of the work, as she was with him through the day while he pulled some hours at the office, which meant she’d gotten very little rest over the week.
Brad thought hangovers were rough, but tending to a newborn 24/7 was in its own category of anguish. No wonder sleep deprivation was used as a torture tactic in hostile situations.
Much to his disappointment, he’d barely made contact with Hannah, other than to text her each evening to ask about her day. She gushed about working at Liberty House and the hospital, while his answers were short and elusive when she asked about his day in return. She probably assumed he was busy working. If only. Truth was, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to see her. He missed her. She was the first woman who ‘got’ him. But he had no idea how to bring up the fact that he was now a dad. So he kept his texts short and sweet, biding time to think of how best to approach his new parenting status with her. As with everything else, denial seemed best for now.
There was no chance of a lie-in on Saturday morning with the Jarrod-alarm waking Brad at five. After making breakfast for him and Sophie, he settled Jarrod and pottered around the house tidying up from the disaster of a week.
Mid-morning, he yearned for a nap, but Sophie forced him to shower and freshen up before dragging him to the Bubs ‘n More superstore in town.
The parking lot was full of an assortment of SUVs, and a low whistle escaped his mouth as they stepped through the doors into the store. Every possible item of baby paraphernalia known to man filled the warehouse-sized store, from wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling.
With Jarrod cocooned against his chest in a baby sling Laura had left behind, Brad eyed the sea of baby items. “Where do we start?”
“By getting out of the doorway.” Sophie smiled an apology at a couple trying to enter the store as she tugged on his arm and led him across to the display of timber cots in an assortment of stains – walnut, cherry, black and white. He had no idea there were so many sizes and colours to choose from.
“What are these?” He picked up a length of quilted material from one of the cots.
“Cot bumpers.”
“Cot what?”
“Cot bumpers,” Sophie repeated. “They protect the baby from hurting themselves if they bump against the edge of the cot, and they stop their limbs from getting caught in the railings.”
That made sense. Did they need one? He didn’t know. Jarrod wasn’t moving around too much yet, so perhaps it could be purchased at a later date. Placing it back in the cot, he continued browsing. Who knew there were so many different types of cots and mattresses and pillows? Did a baby know the difference between a deluxe mattress or one made of latex? And when did his sister become so knowledgeable about baby stuff?
Other couples wandered around the store. Heavily pregnant women smoothing hands over their bellies. Serious looking fathers-to-be inspecting every nook and cranny of the cots, testing the sliding mechanisms on chests of drawers, going for a jog with the running prams. And then there was him. Clueless. Overwhelmed. And paralysed by the fear of making a wrong decision.
A perky sales assistant with bright red lipstick and a chin-length bob approached them. “Can I assist you with anything?” She smiled, clasping her hands together. He could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes, calculating her commission from the naïve instant dad. He felt like a fraud and was waiting for a voice over the loudspeaker to announce that the guy with spit-up on his shirt and heavy bags under his eyes was in no way deserving to be a father.
“We’re just browsing, thanks,” Brad replied. He didn’t need to be conned into forking out hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars for stuff he wasn’t even sure if Jarrod would need.
“What about this?” Sophie held up a playmat of some sort once the sales assistant had moved onto the next couple.
“What does it do?” Brad checked out the mat and then the price tag. His eyes widened. It would need to feed the baby, change its nappy, rock it to sleep and recite the alphabet for its exorbitant price.
“Never mind. We don’t need it.” Sophie placed it back on the pile.
“Don’t be lured by pretty things, Soph.”
As he wandered through each section of nursery furniture, rocking chairs, changing tables, and an entire area dedicated to educational toys, a dull throb began in his temples. There were so many things to choose from. So many decisions to make. So little money to spend. He didn’t even want to think about the dent this would make in his bank account. Funny how he’d offered to pay Laura child support, but she had in no way offered the same in return. He supposed she’d carried Jarrod for nine months, and had given birth, but still, that was a small sacrifice compared to the next eighteen years that he would be supporting their son.
“Maybe we should call Mum and ask her advice,” Sophie suggested, holding up a hooded onesie that looked more like a bear suit with brown fluffy ears on the hood. “She’s the expert. She’d know what’s needed or not.”
“No!” Brad shouted, garnering curious stares from some nearby shoppers before he lowered his voice. “No, not yet.”
“You’ll need to do it soon,” Sophie replied. “It’s not like you can keep a baby a secret forever. Besides, we’ve got to go up there soon for Damien’s birthday.”
He’d forgotten all about that. Just like everything else that had slipped his mind since Jarrod arrived on the scene. “I know.”
But Jarrod had only been in his life for a short time, and he needed to process the new addition himself before informing anyone else. He certainly wasn’t ready to inform his mother that she was a grandmother. She would be devastated. Given that she was so family-oriented and had supported his father throughout his ministry while raising him and his sisters, she would be mortified that Laura wanted nothing to do with the baby. How on earth was he going to break the news to her and Damien?
He could already hear her voice. “I’m disappointed, Brad. We raised you to know better.” How many times had he heard her speak those words? Even in adulthood, it seemed he hadn’t learned his lesson. With each passing year, he seemed to be creating more disappointment. This time, it wasn’t something that could be fixed with rest, greasy food and painkillers. This was a permanent consequence of his choices.
Brad and Sophie finally settled on a jogging pram and a portable cot – so he could take Jarrod to visit others, if and when that happened. A swing and a cheap playmat wer
e added to their purchases, as well as a walnut-coloured crib that would be delivered the next day.
Sophie slapped his hand out of the way as he went to pay at the counter. “An aunt has to spoil her nephew.”
“Just this once.” He warmed at Sophie’s ability to embrace his situation and her new role wholeheartedly.
Jarrod began making noises indicating he was getting restless. The last week had taught Brad that it wouldn’t be long before the little sputters would turn into a full-blown wail. The size of Jarrod’s lungs were phenomenal, and he was surprised his neighbour hadn’t filed a noise complaint given the number of sleepless nights they’d had.
After ensuring Sophie was happy with their purchases, he gently bounced the baby up and down, patting Jarrod’s back as he made his way toward the exit. “Shh. It’s okay, little guy. I feel the same way about shopping. We’ll be out of here soon.”
“Oh, how adorable!” A heavily pregnant woman wearing a brightly coloured tunic dress stopped Brad near the doors. Her male companion gave him a tight smile and made to enter the store. “How old is he?” The woman peered in the top of the sling and stroked Jarrod’s cheek.
“Er … four weeks.” Or was it five? Or six? When had Laura arrived unannounced on his doorstep? Sleep deprivation had jumbled his brain.
“How are you finding it?” The woman’s eyes danced with enthusiasm as she rubbed a hand over her protruding belly. “I’ve heard so many stories of sleepless nights and difficulty feeding. Oh, and the nappies! Do you and your wife take turns changing them? Do you take turns getting up through the night, too? I’ve heard some couples do that. We’re going to, aren’t we, Tom?” She nudged the man beside her who looked as stunned as Brad felt at the rapid-fire words gushing from her mouth. “And have you booked your son into school yet?”
Remnants of the Heart (Winds of Change Book 3) Page 8