Now that I know he’s taking care of an infant, running a business, and trying to take care of an ailing parent, I have a whole new level of respect for him. I lean my head against the rungs of the crib and watch his little boy sleep. In a matter of moments, I begin to doze.
Did you think I would allow that? I don’t want that. You were careless and inconsiderate. You didn’t even think about what I might want. Haven’t you figured it out? This is and will always be the Tyler show. There’s no room for Alexa, and there certainly isn’t room for that shit.
I startle awake and realize it was just a dream. Actually, it happened, but my mind is obviously working it out through my dreams. I look through the bars of the crib and see the baby begin to stir. What will I do if he wakes? I bolt from my chair and rush into the living room to get the book. How do I warm up formula? What kind does he have? There are different types, right? He said something about his food being in the refrigerator. I am ill-equipped for this job.
I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. The top shelf contains a can of formula concentrate. I read the directions to find out I need to warm up two ounces of water for every ounce of formula. How much does he eat? I look around and see a case of bottled water. I locate a pan and measure eight ounces of water into it. I’m going to be prepared if he wakes up. I put the water on low to get in just above room temperature.
I walk back to the living room and begin to read the book. I cover the section on holding a baby, diapering a baby and feeding a baby. I put a cover over my warm water and turn the burner off. Feeling a bit more prepared, I make my way back to his bedroom and take my seat in the rocker.
I got what I needed. I got exactly what I was after. It took four fucking years of my life, but I’m set forever. Do you know how awful Wednesday nights were for me? It was hump night. I had to take you at least once a week, so you didn’t think anything was wrong in our marriage. I loved it when you were indisposed with your monthly cycle, because then I didn’t need to touch you. I don’t even like women. You thought Friday nights were poker nights. I looked forward to Friday; it was the only day I could be myself. It was the only day I could be with him.
I wake to the soft whimper of a child. I quickly take in my surroundings and realize I am at Zane’s, watching his son. I look at my watch and see it’s been four hours since I arrived. Whatever made him shoot out of here like a bullet from a gun must be serious.
I walk to the kitchen to prepare his bottle. When I am satisfied I won’t burn his little tongue off, I sneak back into the room. I approach the bed and see the little guy looking like a skydiver. His arms, legs, and head are all off the bed. He teeters on his belly until his neck muscles can’t hold him up any longer. He plants his face into the mattress and begins this exercise again. I watch a few rounds before I hear the frustration in his voice. He calls out to me with one shrill scream. It’s not a cry; it’s more of a warning things are going to escalate if someone doesn’t intervene. I set the bottle down and reach in to pick him up.
With my hands under his armpits, I pull him to me. I wonder if he notices I’m a stranger? If he does, he doesn’t let on. He simply pushes his face into my breasts and begins to root around. I’m not sure if this is a baby thing or a man thing. I had a suspicion men’s obsession with boobs started at birth, and this just confirms my belief.
I cradle him in one arm and sit down in the rocker. He is getting impatient with my inexperience. You can tell he’s used to getting what he wants right away. I grab for the warmed formula just as his scream pierces the night. With one swift move, I line up the nipple and silence him.
Snug in my arms, he suckles on his bottle. I watch his cheeks draw the milk in. A little dribble escapes from the side. I pull my finger across his cheek, catching the drip. I mindlessly wipe it on my pajama bottoms.
I read a baby should be burped intermittently, so to his dismay, I pull the bottle from his mouth and shift him over my shoulder. I see a thick receiving blanket hung over the crib. I put that over my shoulder and place him on top of it. With gentle taps, I urge the air to escape his stomach. After a few pats, a big burp emerges. Who would have thought that could come out of a baby as small as he is?
Happy with our progress, I continue the feeding. This time, his need to feed is less urgent. I look into his eyes and see happiness there. There is a twinkle that shines from him. He gums the nipple and looks as if he is smiling around it. I pull the bottle away from him and listen to him coo.
“Hey, little man, what’s your name?” I ask.
I know it’s silly because he can’t answer, but I just feel the need to talk to him, to let him know I’m here and will take care of him. I will protect him while he is mine. I whisper to him about lots of things. I tell him my hopes and dreams, and I tell him he has a great daddy. I watch as his eyes begin to droop. I know I should put him back in his crib, but I can’t bear the thought of letting him go. He feels so good in my arms.
I feel his weight shift and sit up abruptly, feeling as if I might drop him. When I open my eyes, he’s gone. Zane is standing above me, looking exhausted. His baby is sleeping peacefully in the crib.
“Hey, I’m so sorry.” He helps me up from the chair and guides me out of the room. He closes the door slightly and walks me down the hallway. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s okay. It was a bit of a shock at first. I had no idea you had a child.”
“Well, it’s a fairly new experience for me as well.” I watch him reach into his wallet and pull out a few twenties.
“No, I don’t need the money, Zane. Let’s just say I’m a friend helping out a friend.”
He looks at me and puts his money back in his wallet. “I owe you an explanation.” He pulls me to the couch and forces me to sit.
“You don’t owe me anything. However, I would love to know the name of your son. I called him little man all night. It would have been nice to say his name.”
He pulls his hands through his hair and groans. “I’m so sorry. I was in a panic, and none of the girls could come right away. I didn’t want to take him to the hospital, because there are so many germs there and he’s so little. His name is Aaron Michael Abbamonte. He’s three months old, and he’s amazing.”
I see his tired eyes light up, and a look of peaceful contentment washes over his face.
“Little Aaron is a doll. I fed him and rocked him.”
“Did you change his diaper?” he asks as he moves his head from shoulder to shoulder, as if trying to crack his neck.
“Oh, my God, no. I’m an awful babysitter. I just wanted to comfort him, and so I fed him. He’s probably lying in a pool of his own urine.” Tears pierce my eyes, and I begin to sob. I don’t know what’s come over me. “I tried to take care of him, but I failed him.”
I feel the sofa shift as he scoots closer to me. His arms wrap around me as he pulls me to his chest. I breathe him in. What I smell calms my nerves, and I switch from all-out blubbering to an occasional whimper.
“You didn’t fail him. You met his immediate needs. Kids are quite forgiving, and I’m sure he won’t hold it against you. He’s been in a wet diaper before, and I guarantee he will be in a wet diaper again. Hell, if he hates it that much, he will learn to potty train early or change himself.” He chuckles lightly. The movement of his chest rubs against my cheek. I flush at the intimacy of our position. I push off him and sit back.
“Alexa, I really appreciate you coming over on a second’s notice. My mom had fallen at the home she lives in, and they thought she had broken her hip. I met the ambulance at the hospital. As it turns out, she just bruised it badly. I should get you home so you can get some rest.”
“Oh, no you don’t. I slept while I was here. You need to grab a few good hours of sleep before the little man wakes up again. I read some of the book on the table. It would appear babies his age have a ravenous appetite and no real need for continuous sleep. Go climb in bed, Zane. I will hold down the fort for a w
hile. Off you go.”
He gives me a wary look. I see him waver between going to bed and arguing with me. In the end, he stands up and heads toward his room.
I sneak down the hallway about fifteen minutes later and peek in on Zane. His breathing is deep and steady. I pull the door closed as I back away. I walk to Aaron’s room and gaze at him for what seems a lifetime. His tiny hand is fisted up near his mouth. His tiny lips suck on his knuckles. He doesn’t seem too upset over his wet diaper.
I tiptoe out of his room and walk back to the living room. Curling up on the couch, I doze.
Did you really think I loved you? I wish it were that easy. Alexa, you’re a likable girl, it’s just that I never did like you. I liked the package deal you came with. You took down walls that would have taken me years to breach. Honestly, it was your father’s money and power that got me hard. That’s what I was after. Unfortunately, I had to marry you to get it.
“Alexa, wake up. It’s okay.” I hear his voice and feel the soft stroke of a hand across my hair. I flail about, thinking it’s Tyler. The thought of him touching me makes my skin crawl. “Alexa, shh it’s okay. I heard you whimpering. It looks like you were having a bad dream.”
I settle down and curl up on my side. I’m trying to wrap my brain around what’s happening. His hand softly caresses my cheek. His fingers push my errant hair away from my face. His thumb runs under my eye, grabbing the tear that must have escaped. I relax under his care and inhale deeply. I’ve missed the touch of a man stroking my skin. It has been so long since anyone has touched me. I wish this moment could last forever.
In the background, I hear the beginning sounds of an unhappy baby. Zane rises from the couch to take care of his son.
“Can I get him? I owe him a diaper change. I would also love to see what the little man looks like in the light of day.”
“Sure, he’s all yours. He seems to like the ladies. I would certainly rather wake up and see your beautiful face instead of mine.”
I ignore his compliment and hurry down the hallway to redeem myself.
Chapter Five
I pick the little bundle up from his crib. In the morning light, I can see his bedding is indeed a depiction of Hey Diddle, Diddle. On the cover are fiddle-playing cats and moon-jumping cows. His room is painted powder blue and contains everything a baby could want or need. I hold him out in front of me while his legs dangle and kick. I see he is soaked through, and it breaks my heart I didn’t change him on our previous date.
“We need to stop meeting like this, little man. Your daddy says your name is Aaron. I think that’s a fine name. You and your dad have it covered from A to Z. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” I pull him close and feel his wetness soak through my PJs, but I don’t care. He feels so good in my arms.
We walk to the dresser, where I pick out his clothes for the day. On top is a tiny pair of blue shorts and a red, white, and blue striped shirt. I transfer him to the changing table and peel off his wet clothes. I pull back the tabs on his diaper and rid him of the ten-pound weight.
“Careful, there is something about cold air and its stimulating effect on his bladder.” Just as he finishes his last word, a fountain of pee shoots directly for me. I try to stop the stream with my palms but only manage to create a bigger mess.
Zane rushes to help me. I bust out in laughter. I reach down and flick Aaron’s nose. “Funny little man, aren’t you?”
“I tried to warn you,” Zane says. He looks at the pee drip from my chin and laughs. He pulls out a wipe and cleans me up with it. “I’m going to give him a quick bath and get him dressed. You should jump in the shower yourself.”
Disappointed that I’m being dismissed, I slump my shoulders and walk toward the door.
“There are towels in the cupboard, and if you look in my third drawer down, there are some shorts with a tie at the waist. In my closet are my T-shirts. Grab whatever you want. I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re done.” He picks up his naked son and follows me out the door. He turns off into the bathroom a few steps into the hallway as I continue to his room.
In the shower, I take hold of his bar of soap and bring it to my nose. It’s a scent I recognize. It’s his scent. I scrub the night’s sweat and Aaron’s pee from my body. I giggle at the thought of what happened. Little man gave me a golden shower, and I was okay with it. His arms and legs kicked and wiggled like he was enjoying his ability to make a direct hit. I watched his little smile as he got a bull’s-eye to my chin.
I let the water pour over my head and run down my back. Why do I keep reliving my nightmare in my dreams? I almost forgot the last one. The shock of waking up with Zane comforting me made me forget what had disturbed me in the first place.
I pour his shampoo into my hands and work it into a rich lather. I rinse and look around for conditioner. Of course he doesn’t have any; why would a man need a de-tangler or conditioner? Hell, the fact that he has shampoo is shocking. He could be the kind of man who thinks a bar of soap is multi-purpose.
I step out of the shower onto the bath mat and reach into the cabinet for a towel. Even his laundry smells like him. Why am I so obsessed with his smell? I pull on the shorts and cinch them tight with the drawstring. I could put two of me in these shorts. I toss the black T-shirt over my head and let it fall. It reaches my knees. He must shop at the big and tall store. I could wrap a belt around this shirt and wear it as a dress. Who needs the shorts?
I look in the mirror and frown. My face is flush from the hot water, and my hair is a mess. I reach into his drawer, pull out his brush, and drag it through my hair. I put some of his toothpaste on my finger and “brush” my teeth. Feeling clean and refreshed, I head into the living area.
As I reach the end of the hallway, I hear him talking to someone. Not wanting to disturb his conversation, I slink into the living room, trying not to make a sound. I lean against the wall and watch him. Aaron is lying over his left forearm. His little legs are hanging next to Zane’s elbow, and his head is cradled in his hand. Zane is gently bouncing him up and down and speaking softly to him. I listen intently.
“Let’s make some pancakes for our guest, buddy. We have to make up for your lack of etiquette. You’re not supposed to pee on girls; they don’t take too kindly to that. You’re lucky you’re cute and she has a good sense of humor.”
I continue to watch the scene unfold in front of me. Aaron seems to answer his dad. His cooing and gurgles almost sound like a response to his dad’s chiding. My heart clenches at the heartwarming scene. Here is this big man who is obviously in love with this little boy. I wish I had a picture of this moment to remind me some fathers are good.
“What do you think she will like? Should we fix her our special blueberry pancakes, or just keep them plain? You were a lucky man last night to have her holding you against her breast. I walked in on the two of you and almost felt jealous.”
His statement takes my breath away. He felt jealous of his baby? I didn’t even think he took notice of me. He always seems so grumpy and out of sorts. I suppose I should cut him some slack; he’s got a lot going on. I keep my eye on the sweet pair in front of me.
Feeling like I am watching something that wasn’t meant for my eyes, I decide to interrupt the intimate family moment between father and son. I clear my throat and walk toward the kitchen.
“Look at you, all full of surprises. I'm impressed you can hold a baby and cook at the same time. Let me help, either give me the little man or hand me the spatula. I have limited experience with both, so choose wisely.”
He begins to laugh. The sound reverberates from his chest and makes its way out of his mouth in a melodic fashion. His laugh has the deep tone of one of the famous tenors. Looking from the spatula to the baby, you can tell he’s debating.
“Although I would love to see you in the kitchen, Aaron would probably prefer to be in your embrace than slung over my arm.”
I whoop with glee; I was hoping I would get the baby. I would hav
e happily flipped pancakes, but snuggling with this little, baby-powder fresh bundle of joy makes me giddy with happiness.
“Yes! I was hoping I would get you. Now that your junk is covered, I can rest easy.” I lift him up by his underarms and gently swing him around. He gets a shocked look on his face, and for a minute I’m afraid he is going to cry. I pull him down and into my arms, where he roots against my breast. “Did you feed him? He seems to be looking for something to eat.”
Zane looks at his son, frantically moving his head back and forth against my breast.
“He’s definitely my son. I suppose he’s going to be a breast man. He just ate, so it’s not about hunger. He just likes the boobies.”
I pull him away from my chest and rock him back, cradling him in my arms. His arms flail around in an attempt to get control of his body. He’s left a large drool mark on my borrowed T-shirt. I can certainly see why his daddy has to shower or change several times a day.
“Just like a man. However, I didn’t know your gender developed a predilection for women’s parts so early in life.”
“Oh, it just starts there. From that point on, we zoom in on everything. There isn’t a part of a woman I wouldn’t worship for hours. I can tell he’s going to be a ladies’ man. He’s already got you hooked, and it’s been less than a day.”
“Is that why you keep him hidden upstairs? I had no idea your house was up here. I saw you heading upstairs with all of these little girls, and well…”
“Well, what? What did you think I was doing up here with high school students?”
I lower my head and turn in shame. I had all sorts of awful thoughts about him and what he was doing.
True North Page 5