by Sarina Bowen
Nicole was a little weepy as we began our trip, but I assumed it was just the break in her routine. Then she was fussy during the flight and wouldn’t eat or drink her milk. Still, not a big deal.
But as the plane started its descent, she began to whimper. And by the time I could see the lights of Miami, she was crying. The cries became howls. She buried the side of her face against my collarbone and cried like there was no tomorrow.
I couldn’t soothe her with a trip up and down the aisle, because the Fasten Seatbelt light was on. She cried, and I shushed and patted her back as people began to stare.
“It’s probably her ears,” a flight attendant said, trying to help. “If she drinks something, it might relieve the pressure.” She offered me a bottle of water, which I took.
But Nicole wasn’t having it. She screamed when I tried to sit her up, and her crying took on that desperate, hiccup-y sound of the truly despondent.
The plane took four hours to land. Not really, but that’s how it felt to me. And then came that interminable time before passengers were allowed off the plane. Everyone near me was tapping their fingers or toes, eager to flee from us.
I didn’t blame them.
When I finally stood up and took a good look at her, one ear was bright red. She’d been rubbing it against me for almost an hour, so it could have been irritated, but I had a sinking suspicion that Nicole had a bigger problem—baby’s first ear infection.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered in her good ear as she cried. “I didn’t know.”
Hell, I wasn’t even sure I had baby Motrin in my suitcase.
By the time we were able to leave the plane and head for the baggage claim, I was a nervous wreck. And she still wouldn’t stop crying.
Then I spotted a certain auburn head and a certain rugged smile. For a second I forgot to panic. There he was, waiting for me. Waiting for us.
God, I almost had to pinch myself.
Once he got a good look at us, his smile faded fast. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.
“She won’t stop crying. I think it could be an ear infection.”
Dave reached for Nicole and took her from me like any good dad anywhere. He cradled her and whispered something to her.
“DADA…” she wailed.
I felt like crying, too.
* * *
Dave
The next couple of hours weren’t easy.
To the irritation of the Uber driver, my child screamed all the way to the hotel, like we were trying to kill her. I called the team doctor in New York and asked him what I should do. He sent us to an overly bright urgent care facility, where a young physician’s assistant diagnosed an ear infection and gave us a prescription.
“Give her a dose immediately,” she said. “And a dose again in the night, if she wakes up. She should get some relief within twelve or twenty-four hours. And baby ibuprofen will help, too.”
One pharmacy stop later, and we were on our way back in the hotel’s courtesy car, with Zara looking shaken and bleary.
Still crying, Nicole relaxed into a fitful doze in her car seat. I reached across to Zara and took her hand. Her fingers laced into mine, but she looked out the window and bit her lip.
Then, finally, we’d made it back to the suite I’d booked. There was a crib waiting in the extra little bedroom and a bottle of champagne sweating in the bucket where I’d left it hours ago.
Ah, well. The best-laid plans.
Zara put the baby’s medicine in a sort of eyedropper and squirted it into Nicole’s sleepy mouth.
My baby girl was enraged. Unfortunately, Zara had to do it again with the pain reliever, and Nicole was inconsolable. She cried herself to sleep in my arms, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone look so bereft.
When I finally set her down in the crib and tiptoed out, I could hardly believe she was actually resting.
I walked quietly into the master bedroom, where Zara had sat down on the edge of the bed and then tipped her body back onto the comforter in defeat. “Wow,” I whispered, trying to lighten the mood. “That was intense.”
She sat up. “I’m so sorry. You went to all this trouble…” She glanced around the room, taking in the food, the wine bottle, the glasses. The chocolate I’d put on her pillow as a joke.
“Don’t be sorry.” I sat beside her. “Come here.” I pulled her into a hug. “I know you’re tired and stressed out. But she’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“And we’re going to be okay. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here. I missed you terribly.”
Her eyes leaked. “That’s what I came all the way here to tell you. I missed you, too. So much.”
“See?” I buried my face in her neck and found smooth skin to kiss. “It’s us. In the same room. And that’s all I really needed from you tonight.”
Her arms came around my back, and I felt her body start to relax. Slim hands traced my spine, then my ribcage. “You feel so good.”
“Come to bed with me,” I whispered. “Let me hold you. You’re probably exhausted.” I could see it in her face.
Zara got up and wandered into the glamorous marble bathroom, murmuring her approval. She emerged a few minutes later wearing a black silk nightie I’d never seen before. “You like?” she asked when she caught me admiring it. “I bought it when I thought this was going to be a sex fest.”
I cocked a finger and beckoned her. “Get in this bed, woman. We’ll just have to see what transpires.”
She gave me a tired smile, and I took my turn in the john.
When I returned, she was curled up on her side of the bed, looking anxious. “I hope she can sleep. And that the medicine works fast.”
“If she doesn’t sleep well”—I slipped into the bed beside her—“we’ll take turns holding her. It’ll be okay.” I switched off the bedside lamp and rolled close to her. “How was your trip before the screaming started?”
“Fine? I can barely remember.”
I curved my body around hers and put my hands on her shoulders. “Relax, baby.”
She tried. I worked my thumbs into the tight muscles of her back and used my fingertips to ease her shoulders.
“That’s…really awesome,” she slurred.
“That’s right,” I whispered. “I believe it’s the first thing I ever told you—that I’m great at stress relief. Pro level.”
She laughed, but then her laughter died when I reached around and teased her nipple with my fingertips, tracing a circle around it until I felt it pebble under the silk. She arched her back, offering me her neck, and I began to drop kisses there.
“Mmm,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I was too tired for this. But maybe not.”
“I’m gonna do all the work,” I promised, kissing my way down her arm.
She gave me a wise smile over her shoulder. “You must be desperate.”
“I am.” I rested my chin on her arm. “But not the way you mean. I’m a big boy, Z. I can go a couple of months without sex, if I know I’m going to see you again.” Her expression softened. “Of course, now that you’re here, I’m suddenly dying.”
She grinned and I was happy to see that naughty sparkle return to her eyes. A defeated-looking Zara was more worrying than a screaming baby. “Where do you want me?”
“Stay right there,” I said, putting a firm hand to her hip. “Don’t you move unless I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir.” She said it cheekily, but her cheeks heated.
Just to make my point, I gently pushed her head against the pillow, facing away from me. “Close your eyes.”
She snapped them shut.
“Good girl,” I whispered as my fingertips began exploring her body. I dragged them down the front of her gown, sliding over silk and then skin when I reached her knee. Her lips parted in appreciation, and I felt her relax against me. “That’s right,” I coached, dragging my hand over her body again. I paid special attention to her breasts, whi
ch I was allowed to touch again. And suck. I worked the strap of her nightgown down and leaned over her body until I could get my mouth on her.
“Mmm,” she sighed.
My hand worked its way beneath her gown, and I made a noise of appreciation when I found no panties in my way. “I do like this outfit. It’s my favorite.”
She smiled with her eyes closed. And when I ran a palm down her bare belly and between her legs, she shifted and spread her legs for me.
“That’s my girl,” I whispered in her ear. “Always ready to take my cock. You want it, don’t you.”
“Yeah,” she gasped as I tucked my fingers into the slickness waiting for me.
My lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear as I stroked her sweet pussy. She moaned and pressed against me everywhere.
It was all too easy to kick off my boxers, lift her leg, and slide inside her from behind. “Unhh,” I exclaimed as her body welcomed me. We lay there a second, our breathing rapid, and I swear every cell in my body vibrated with expectation. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” I flexed my hips and she rolled hers, too.
Heaven.
“You are perfect,” I whispered over her shoulder.
She grabbed my hand and clutched it. “Pretty…great yourself.”
“You make me feel lucky.”
“Well, you’re getting lucky,” she pointed out.
“No.” I chuckled in her ear. “I meant all of it.” I lay down on my side and pulled her against me, even if it meant I couldn’t keep up my good work for a second. But I needed her to feel this connection all the way down to her soul. I had a point to make, and now seemed as good a time as any. “I’d do it all again, Zara girl. With you. No regrets.”
She went still in my arms.
“You’re it for me. I don’t care if there are gonna be earaches and lots of days missing you. I’ll take it, because you’re the best there is.”
“I love you, too, honey,” she whispered. “I think I always have.”
My heart gave a big old kick. “Thanks for finally letting me know.”
I felt her smile even if I couldn’t see it. She pushed her ass back against me to remind me that we were in the middle of something important. That was Zara for you. She liked to keep the upper hand.
But so did I. So I rolled, taking her to her stomach, spreading myself out on top of her luscious body. I braced myself on my forearms and began to move, and she moaned her approval.
Skin kissed skin. I was against her. Above her. Beside her. Inside her. Everywhere I needed to be, all at once.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dave
The baby woke again in the darkest part of the night. Zara got up to soothe her. She gave her another dose of medicine while I lay in bed listening, waiting to offer my services if we were in for a long night of passing a screaming child back and forth.
But Zara came back to bed fifteen minutes later, startling me out of a doze as she tucked a quiet Nicole in between us in the bed.
I reached down for my boxers on the floor and pulled them on, then lay down on my back, giving them some space.
We dozed. Then we slept. And nobody cried.
When I next awoke, there was sunlight on my eyelids and a little hand feathering its way through my hair. And when I opened my eyes I was startled to see Nicole a few inches from my face, looking right at me.
She was startled, too, blinking suddenly when our gazes met.
“Dada,” she said, her voice small.
“Hi,” I whispered, watching her. She looked surprisingly chipper given all the previous day’s miseries. But, heck. I’d been young once. I knew exactly how different it felt to have the youthful resilience of childhood, instead of the muscle pain that greeted me each and every morning now.
I sat up carefully, checking in with my body the way a professional athlete in his second decade of play always did. I clocked all my minor aches and pains, then reached for my baby girl. “Come on,” I whispered.
Nicole climbed into my lap, then looked over at Zara. “Mama,” she said.
“Mama’s sleepy,” I whispered, because Zara was lying on her face, dead to the world. “Come with me.” I grabbed some shorts and a polo shirt and carried her into the living room.
Funny how I could find the diaper bag and change a diaper before I was fully awake. Although I got stuck on the next bit. “Do you still drink milk in the morning?”
“Baba,” Nicole said, which was her word for the sippy-bottle thing she drank from these days.
“Where do you suppose that is?”
Nicole walked over to the diaper bag, then began to root around in it. But I spotted the cup beside the hotel suite’s little kitchen sink. “Here we go. Let’s go fill this up,” I said.
* * *
The point of staying in a luxury hotel wasn’t the stylish furniture in the lobby or the elegant pool with the disappearing edge. The point was handing an empty sippy cup to the first concierge I could find, and watching that person scurry off to fill it up with milk.
“Baba,” Nicole said with a frown, watching it disappear.
“They’re going to hook you up,” I promised. If I were a smarter man, I would have asked for coffee, too. “Let’s look around while we wait.” I spotted an aquarium across the way and carried her over to it.
As we looked through the glass, a grumpy-faced bass swam past us at a rapid rate, and Nicole gasped. “Fissy!” she exclaimed.
And, wow. It was so cool to hear new words coming out of her. She’d made a big leap forward since I’d seen her in Vermont, and I’d mostly missed it. Sure, I’d heard a few words on Skype, but that was nothing like holding her and hearing that little voice at close range.
Maybe it had taken me a little longer than it could have, but being Nicole’s father felt right to me now. Your life has just changed for the better, my sister had said on that first, terrifying morning after I’d come back to Vermont. I hope you’re not too stupid to figure that out.
Well, sis. I got there. It just took a while.
“Excuse me, madame,” a man’s voice said behind me. “Is this yours?”
“Baba!”
I turned around to find a young guy holding Nicole’s sippy cup, and it was full of milk. “Thank you,” I said, flashing my key card. “Where do I sign?”
He handed me the bottle and a bill wallet, where I filled in my room number and a generous tip for Nicole’s beverage of choice.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, and was gone.
In order to let Zara sleep a bit longer, I carried Nicole out the sliding glass doors and across a patio. When the patio ended, the sand began. The beach was really wide here, so the hotel had made a shady enclosure with hammock-like chairs. Every one of them was empty now. I sat down carefully so the thing wouldn’t swing sideways and dump us both onto the sand. Then I eased back and let Nicole make herself comfortable against my chest.
She lifted the sippy cup immediately and began to drink the milk. The poor kid was probably starving since she hadn’t stopped crying long enough consider food last night.
Kicking off my flip flops, I buried my toes in the cool sand. Somewhere in the distance, the ocean crashed against the beach in rhythmic waves. And seagulls chased each other on the horizon, their cries carried off by the wind.
“I gotta say, it’s pretty nice right here,” I told my daughter.
There was no answer, except for some slurping sounds. While I rocked us in the chair, she drank every drop, then handed me the empty bottle. I could almost hear her adding, Listen, Dada, this bottle was too small.
In a minute I’d get up and find out how to order some room service. After the night we had, I thought we were due for some serious chow.
But first… I dug out my phone. It was barely seven, but that meant my sister was up and showered and nearly ready to head for her office. I tapped on her ID in Skype so she could see Nicole.
She picked up immediately. “Heyyyyyy!” she squeal
ed.
“Hey!” I repeated. “Look, Nicole, it’s your crazy aunt Bess. Can you tell her hi?”
Nicole lifted her hand and waved at the screen, while Bess swooned. I let my sister chatter to the baby for a while, then I told her I needed to go see about breakfast.
“Wait,” she said, remembering that I was alive. “Since you’re here, it’s time for my weekly nagging.”
“I’m on vacation,” I said quickly. We didn’t need to talk about my contract extension today. Jesus.
“Look, I was talking to Hugh this week on another matter…” Hugh was my team’s general manager. “He asked where you stood on the question of two years versus three, and of course I told him you just weren’t ready to think about it. Eventful summer, blah blah blah…”
“Right. So?”
My sister bit her lip. “I wondered whether I should have asked him how he felt about a one-year extension.”
“One year?” I didn’t see how that really helped the discussion.
“Well, yeah.” She gave me a cautious smile. “I thought maybe you were having trouble choosing because suddenly it was harder to think three years out.” Her eyes flicked to Nicole. “A one-year would buy you some time to think things over.”
“Huh.” Then again, they could drop me after a year. “I’ll think about it. Gotta go. Hotel pancakes are calling our name.”
Nicole made a happy noise. I was pretty sure they were calling her name, too. I set her down in the sand to say goodbye to my sister, and Nicole plopped down on stubby knees to run her fingers through the sand.
“Come on, angel,” I said, standing up slowly. “Let’s go order some food.”
She reached up to wrap her hand around my finger. And we walked back inside together.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Zara
I woke up alone. There have been times in my life when I woke up alone and felt sad about it. This wasn’t one of those times.