by Watkins, TM
“Pull the tabs and fold them back, get a wipe to clean her.”
He fumbled with the nappy, getting poop on his fingers. Then he started going pale.
“Hey.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Toughen up, it's just shit. Now hold her feet and clean her up.”
“But it's in her...”
The color returned to his face, in fact he went red. Oh dear, does the playboy rock star get embarrassed at female genitalia?
“It's a vagina and you will clean it properly so that she doesn't get an infection.”
I moved closer to him, whispering in his ear.
“And if you can't handle cleaning them on your infant daughter, then you shouldn't play with them on their mothers.”
Then I stood, taking my phone and walking to the kitchen.
The light had been flashing, indicating that I'd missed a call. Stupidly I'd forgotten that I'd turned it down so that I didn't upset the baby. And it was the lawyer too. Damn it.
“Good morning Eden.” a tired voice drawled down the phone. “Which one is in the lock up now?”
“None. Fraser had a delivery about an hour ago.”
There was silence.
“A box on his doorstep with a newborn child in it. He said that a woman was meeting with you, what happened?”
“She said that she was still pregnant. She looked pregnant. Damn it.” Kevin snarled. “I thought we had more time than this.”
Then he sighed. It was a lot like my sighs really. One that said, I've got five tumors and they've all got names. The one named Fraser is the biggest at the moment and now it's got a little offshoot, yet to be named.
“She's signed everything, said she'd call me for the handover.”
“Well, she lied. Baby is here and Fraser's finger deep in poop.”
Silence again.
“Really?”
“Do I sound like I'm lying Kevin? Would you like me to put you on loud speaker so you can listen to his complaints?”
“No, no.” he sighed. “Is he keeping the child? That is, if it's his.”
“He's not being given a choice. That poor kid has already got one suck-ass parent, she doesn't need another.”
Kevin sighed his agreement. This world didn't need another kid in the care system and it wasn't as if Fraser couldn't afford to keep her. The freak could have a dozen kids running around the place and it still wouldn't make a dent in his bank account.
“I ordered a swab test when she booked the appointment to see me. Bring him and bub down tomorrow and we can get it done.”
“Okay Kevin. We'll be there bright and early.”
I sighed as I said goodbye and hung up the phone. The baby was crying and Fraser was complaining. Hot desert. Burning feet on the sand. Blisters on my back. Yep, it sounded great.
“Have you decided on a name?”
I walked into the lounge room and stopped to watch, trying not to laugh. He had her feet in the air and was taking little swipes at the mess.
“I can't do it Eden, it's so wrong.”
“There are so many fathers that clean their little girls Fraser.”
“I'll hire a nurse.”
“What on earth for?”
I walked over and pushed him out of the way, taking the wipe and cleaned her backside. Fresh nappy on and she was done.
“See?” I said as I clipped up her clothes. “Go and wash your hands with soap and make her a bottle.”
He got up with a huff, I tidied up the mess and handed him the stinky nappy. With a slight sneer he took it.
“And read the damned instructions Fraser!”
Fraser swiped the bag, muttering that I was a hard ass.
“Aww.” I picked up the baby, cuddling her into my arms to settle her. “Papa thinks aunt Eden is a hard ass. The poor thing is so hard done by. Maybe he should have kept his little pinkie in his pants.”
“I heard that.”
I chuckled as I walked into the kitchen.
“It's not a little pinkie, it's a fucking monster.”
“Did you just put your hand in your pants?”
He stopped and looked at me as if to say, yeah, so what?
“Wash them again and make sure you use lots of soap. Get under those fingernails. I've seen you scratch your ass and your daughter doesn't want ass sweat in her bottle thanks.”
“You are such a charmer.”
“I have to be, I have to put up with you and your friends. And remember, you called me here. I can easily turn around and go home. Sleep in my comfy bed and not worry about you and your little bundle of issues. Are you warming that?”
“Yes!” he snapped.
“Not hot?”
He groaned and thumped the tin of formula on the counter. Lucky for him the lid was still on.
“If it's too hot you will burn her mouth.”
“I can read the instructions Eden.”
“Fine, fine. Just test it before you offer it.”
I wandered back into the lounge room, searching out the remote.
“What's on television at this hour? Ooh, shopping. You are going to max out papa's credit card when you're old enough, aren't you?”
She began to fuss, almost like she knew it was bottle time.
“Sorry darling, I think papa's having trouble out there. Let's find something better than the shopping channel.”
I flicked the channel, Pretty Woman was playing.
“Ooh, this isn't too bad. You won't understand it so I'll explain it. See, Julia plays a special lady friend for men and Richard plays a business man who is really rich. The two of them play hide the sausage for a little while. Much like your papa really only Richard is smarter than your papa. He doesn't get his special lady friend pregnant.”
“Her mother isn't a prostitute Eden.” Fraser grumbled as he held out the bottle.
Yeah right. She just screwed you because you're a rock star, not because she liked you. Suck it up Eden and ignore your mind.
“Oh, look. Papa's going to feed you. Go on papa, sit down and well get you set up.”
The lumbering brute sat down beside us, I propped a pillow and placed the baby into his arms.
“There you go.”
I leaned back and watched as the baby drank greedily. She was a quiet child and even though she was clearly hungry she didn't complain. Fraser had lucked out far too easily.
“Dude turn that shit off.”
Oh, I'm back to dude. Bye Eden, it was nice to see you again. I picked up the remote and said goodbye to Julia and Richard and their steamy sex scene, understanding why Fraser had suddenly become uncomfortable. After all, sitting with his daughter and the dude watching a bit of movie loving was clearly too much for the man.
“Where is she going to sleep?”
I opened my eyes, blearily looking at Fraser and the baby who was asleep. Putting my head onto the back of the lounge and shutting my eyes for a moment clearly hadn't been a good idea.
“Rub her back to help her burp, I'll find something.”
“How?”
“Against your chest will be fine.” I yawned, getting up from the lounge. “At least if she vomits it will go over your chest and not the lounge.”
I ignored his panicked questions about her vomiting, instead preferring to search for something to put her in. In the laundry I found a plastic wash basket and searched for some soft blankets in his linen closet. There wasn't any. I wandered through to his bedroom and grabbed a pillow off his bed and sleepily made my way back to the lounge room.
“My pillow?”
“Is now temporary bedding. You can buy another one, cheapskate.”
Stuffing the pillow into the bottom of the wash basket, I then tucked the bunny rug into the sides. Fraser lowered her into the basket, placing her onto her side.
“Is that right?”
“Don't know. Considering she's sleeping in a wash basket, I'd say that it doesn't matter. We can take turns in keeping an eye on her if you're worried.”
<
br /> He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at the child.
“I.. you know. I don't want her to die or anything.”
“Well, there's the laptop. Do some research papa.”
Fraser nodded and began to search the internet. I laid on the lounge and put a pillow on my head. Burning hot sands in my dreams, here I come.
Chapter Three
I woke to the sound of whimpers, opening my eyes I saw the baby was still in the wash basket and her father was asleep on the lounge. The laptop was on its screen saver, thankfully Fraser had the sense to plug it in before it ran out of battery power.
“Hello darling.” I whispered, lifting her from her temporary bed. “Did you sleep well?”
As I held her in my arms I looked down at Fraser, his body stretched out over the length of the lounge. An arm laid over his eyes to hide them from the light. There was formula powder on his jeans and... dear god. I turned away and rounded the lounge, flicking off the light. I did not want to look at the mound. When he said it was a fucking monster, he was probably right.
Somewhere during the few hours of sleep that I'd had, he'd lost his shirt again. It was thrown over the back of the lounge, almost slipping off completely. I stood at the door and looked at him, a twinge of pleasure bolted through me as I dared to look at the monster again. God damn, it looked like it was going to break the zip at any moment. I stifled the heated gasp as the bolt of pleasure burned inside me.
“Let's not discuss that, shall we baby?” I whispered. “Our little secret.”
In the kitchen I cleaned the bottle and teat one handed, I am the master of this mommy nonsense.
“Shit baby. What are you doing to me?”
I sighed. Aunt. Yep, Aunt Eden.
The kettle boiled, rattling hard as it clicked off. With a lot of dismay I looked around at all of the outdated appliances. Anyone would think that he has a phobia about throwing things away.
“Your papa needs to do some upgrading. Stop being such a tight ass and splurge on a new kettle.”
I poured the boiling water into the tub and gave the bottle a second cleaning. It was likely that this wasn't the right thing to do but without information I was rather blind to it all. So I could only assume that a bit of suds first and then boiling the shit out of it would do the job.
“Hot stuff baby.”
Thankfully I had found the tongs and dumped the bottle onto a fresh kitchen towel. She began to whimper again, bopping her head against me.
“Sorry darling. There's no milk in there for you.”
Would be a whole lot easier if there was. When the bottle was cool enough to handle I managed to get formula into the bottle, all without a single spill. Yep, I had this aunt nonsense under control. Teat in the cap and screwed on.
“Yeah, good to go baby.”
She suckled at the milk, staring at me the entire time. Her little hand reached up to mine, grasping at a finger. So this would be where I admit that she has me completely smitten. Yep, I was a goner.
I'd never thought much about children. Sure I'd envisaged having them one day. At twenty-five I was in my prime according to my mother. It was one of those hints. You know, when are you going to find mister right and settle down, give me some grand kids? I'd shrugged her off and suggested that she either wait a few years or look to my sister for the answer. Not that Reese was planning on kids any time soon.
But little baby here had me thinking differently now. Which wasn't ideal considering that I was in a really well-paying job, about to tour America as part of the job and live out of a suitcase for a year. Children of my own were out of the question. Maybe little baby could get this cluckiness out of the system. No doubt she will be lumped on me when her father goes out partying. Yep, spend a year raising the kid and then have to walk away, returning to good ol' aunt Eden. Bastard. I hated him for it already.
I turned and he was doing his impression of a door again. Standing still, staring at me.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure.”
“Kevin's going to do a swab this morning. You need to go and get a car seat so she can come with us. And for Christ’s sake, pick a name for her.”
“I can't decide and part of me worries that she's not mine. That I'd have to give her up.”
Yep. Know that feeling already.
“And I can't be seen going into a baby store Eden. You are going to have to do it for me.”
“Alright. I'll go and get a few things while I'm out. What are you going to do long term?”
He frowned as he leaned on the bench. I pulled the empty bottle from the baby's mouth and set her at my shoulder, gently patting her back.
“The baby Fraser, are you going ahead with this nurse thing or are you going to do something else? Give up the partying ways to be her father? You can't leave her here by herself to go out on the town.”
“Yeah. I know.” he sighed. “You should move in.”
“What?”
I stared at him, unable to understand the statement. He shrugged, right as the baby burped loudly.
“Oh well done.” I cooed at the baby and then narrowed my gaze at her father. “So tell me your reasoning Fraser, I'm not really sure why you'd want me here helping you.”
Even though I really want to.
“You seem to have a pretty good grip on the situation. And we're about to go on tour anyway, it's not as if we won't be living in each others pockets anyway. I don't need another person getting in my way. You're bad enough.”
“Gee thanks.” I said dryly. “On that note, you can change the nappy and I'm going to get a car seat.”
I left the baby with Fraser, happily striding out of the house and not in the slightest bit upset. No nurse, just Eden. I could live with that. Not sure how things would be in a years' time when the tour was over and we went back to our own lives. Though I would still have to deal with them on a daily basis and I would still see baby a lot. I sighed as I climbed into the car and turned the engine over. This was a complete mess.
Fraser had foolishly parted with his credit card. So I bought a juicy reprieve to drink and wandered around the oversized baby store, leaning on the trolley. I had found a sterilizer, one that utilized a microwave oven. Not sure if the hotels that we were booked into had them in the hotel room but I figured the kitchen staff would be obliging. There was also a warmer in the trolley, a fine little contraption that would heat both milk and food evenly. A couple more bottles and a carrier to keep them warm, a nappy bag and more nappies. Clothes, bub was going to be a fashion hit. Bedding, oh and a travel crib. Couple of books and of course, the main thing that I came here for. A car seat. More wipes, several more packets of nappies, a thing to lay her on when bathing and toys. Yes, lots of bright and squeaky toys.
This shop, for all that it was great in its variety of baby goods was a real pain in my head. For some unknown reason they thought that playing child friendly music at a really loud volume was a good idea. Just so that we are clear about what I term child friendly music, I am not talking about some teeny bopper with PG lyrics. I am talking about nursery rhymes to modern music with squeaky sounds and funny voices. Annoying. Baby was not going to listen to this kind of nonsense.
Knowing her father, she would be raised on the classic hard rock and metal music. I could already imagine her in a few years' time with a mass of messy brown hair like her father. Guaranteed that she would be in a black shirt and a pair of jeans, giving the devil's hand signal as she rocked it out listening to Led Zeppelin. Fraser was a huge Zep fan.
Every time I turned an aisle, I found something awesome. In selecting an item that had several choices available, I chose the best and most expensive. Not only to stick it to Fraser but to spoil a gorgeous little girl. And yes, I get that she wouldn't know.
The woman behind the checkout looked at me like I was a little crazy.
“Sister found out.” I shrugged. “Thought she was retaining fluid.”
“Oh really?” she said drea
mily. “That's so weird, right?”
I nodded and piled the bags into the trolley.
“The poor thing, that's so unexpected. Talk about having your life thrown upside down.”
Yeah, you're right about that. My poor 'sister' didn't know what had hit her. Or him.
“Doesn't she want a proper bed?”
“Oh, this is just a temporary thing. You know, until things settle down.”
And dear sister comes off tour.
“Well here.” she passed a thick catalog to me. “You can phone your order and we can deliver it within a couple of days.”
“Okay, thanks.” I said quietly, unsure of the future.
Who would know what was going to happen? I'd just gone crazy with Fraser's credit card and yet there was a very real chance that he wasn't the father. Shit a brick.
“No problem.” the woman smiled at me brightly. “Have a great day.”
“You too.” I muttered and pushed the trolley out of the store.
Warily I looked around the street as I put my sunglasses and hat back on. I hated having to hide like this but since walking the red carpet with the band at the last awards ceremony, I was outed. Now I was stalked just as much as they were, they were adamant that I was involved with at least one of them. One tabloid suggested that I was their go-to girl when the pickings were slim.
Little did they know that the pickings were never slim and that those boys could have a hundred women lining up at their door if they wanted. That's each, not in total. Some of them had no shame either. How they got the bands email address I don't know but after I opened one that was a picture of a woman trying to prove she was a virgin and asking one of them to be her first, I'd had enough. New email addresses were created and the old ones were closed.
There was no one around, rather surprising but I guess there was something more interesting. Likely to be another celebrity, maybe found sleeping in the gutter along the strip. That happened last week and the starlet was yet to recover from that fall from grace.
I loaded the bags and the boxes into the boot, keeping my wits about me. The paparazzi could be anywhere, with those long range lenses they didn't need to be in my face. I'd have to spend the afternoon stalking the internet for any pictures, not that it would do any good. Once it's out there, it's done. Memories of the quiet tumor and his fiasco at the lagoon resurfaced. Oh the drama.