There wasn’t much that could scare me and I had a habit of running head first into challenges. Sometimes I even pursued the worst of them. But every time I picked Colin up there was this new and uninvited sense of fear trying to push its way to the front, sharpened by a very hostile thought.
I have no fucking business being here.
Colin was still squirming and twisting and I realized I should probably check his diaper. Sure enough, it was heavy and saturated. I had him on the changing table, trying to figure out which way the new diaper was supposed to go, when he let out a squawk, followed by a stream of piss that hit me square in the chest.
“Good aim,” I muttered, managing to get the diaper secured on his body before wiping my chest off with a fist full of baby wipes.
Once he was wearing a clean diaper Colin agreed to be snapped back up into his stretchy one piece. Somehow I did it wrong because I wound up with a front snap that had no match and made the whole outfit look lopsided. But hey, the kid was clean and no longer crying so I wasn’t going to make a thing out of it. I carried him to the kitchen to retrieve one of the last remaining bottles Kat Doyle had prepared. She’d given me two cans of powdered formula and a lot of very precise instructions that I immediately forgot because there was only so much information I could stuff into my head in the space of a few days. No big deal. I’d just add bottle preparation to the long list of things I’d need to figure out.
Colin began energetically drinking a bottle in the cradle of my right arm while I tried to operate the coffee machine one handed. Normally I avoided caffeine but this seemed like a good morning to make an exception. I was surprised to see that the time on the clock above the stove said 8:50 am. My sense of time was all screwed up. I’d assumed it was earlier.
The coffee machine splashed one final stream of liquid into the mug that said ‘Hawk Valley Happiness’. There’d been a half dozen just like it in the cabinet. I didn’t bother with cream or sugar, swallowing the contents as fast as my mouth could stand the heat.
Meanwhile, Colin finished his bottle and let out a whimper. I thought he might still be hungry so I offered him another bottle. He seemed happy to have it.
The knock on the kitchen door almost made me drop my mug of Hawk Valley Happiness. Roxie jumped up. She watched the shadowy shape outside, barked once and then started wagging her tail.
“Did you forget you’re a watchdog?” I asked, flicking aside the yellow curtain covering the glass panel.
Kathleen Doyle waved to me from the other side and I didn’t know whether to groan with annoyance or fling the door open with gratitude. Mostly Kathleen was all right. No longer the skinny nerd who used to follow me around, she was all grown up with a kid of her own and she was obviously grieving over her cousin’s death. Plus she adored Colin and she seemed to know everything about babies so she’d been amazingly helpful. But she could also be exhausting. Kathleen was packed with high energy and extreme competence and at the moment dealing with her felt like a real pain in the ass. Still, I opened the door because she didn’t deserve to see the dickhead side of me.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, preparing to step over the threshold before I’d invited her in. She had her kid with her, a little girl with brown pigtails and a pouty expression. She didn’t look like Kathleen. She probably looked like her father, whoever that was. I hadn’t been rude enough to ask.
Colin responded to the sound of Kathleen’s voice, forgetting the bottle and trying to launch himself in her direction. Kathleen cooed and plucked him out of my arms without asking. Roxie was delighted with her sudden visitors, thumping her tail against the stove and licking the kid’s face.
“I like this dog,” the girl announced, giggling.
“Emma,” her mother warned. “Be careful about petting dogs you don’t know.”
Emma scowled at her mother. “But he likes me.”
“She,” I corrected, cracking a smile. “Her name is Roxie.”
“See Mommy? It’s a she. She’s nice.”
“You still need to be careful.”
I turned to Kathleen. “Look, it’s fine. Roxie wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Kathleen wasn’t listening to me. She was too busy fussing over Colin. “Are you hungry, angel? You want more ba-ba?”
Ba-ba??
Kathleen grabbed the bottle from me and deposited it back into Colin’s mouth. She hummed and rocked him back and forth. I had to admit, the kid didn’t seem bothered by all the attention. He stared up at her with infant awe and seized a clump of her curly red hair, waving it around.
“Is he getting everything he needs?” she asked and finally looked my way. What she found caused her to blink, purse her pretty red lips and return her gaze to the baby.
I was still bare chested, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, but I wasn’t going to break a sweat running upstairs for something better. Kathleen had barged in here unannounced. So if she wanted to scowl and blush and pretend like she was trying not to stare then I hoped she had a damn good time. I took another sip of coffee.
“He’s fine,” I said, slightly bothered that she was questioning whether I was taking care of Colin.
She checked out his crookedly snapped outfit. “Really?”
“Sure. We’ve been having a great time together, invited a few strippers over last night, huffed some glue and partied until the sun came up.”
“Mommy, what’s a stripper?” Emma asked.
Kathleen was annoyed. “Something we’re not going to talk about right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s my fault, Emma,” I said, setting my mug down. “I said a bad word. I’m sorry.”
The child stopped petting Roxie and squinted up at me. “Who are you?”
“Honey, this is Nash Ryan,” Kathleen said. “You’ve met him. He’s Colin’s big brother.”
The little girl was doubtful. “He doesn’t look like a brother. He looks like a dad.”
Kathleen tried again. “He’s Uncle Chris’s oldest son. Remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Emma said and her face fell. It must have been explained to her on some level, the tragedy of Chris and Heather. But there was no telling how much a little kid really understood about death. She probably wasn’t even in kindergarten yet. I’d been a teenager when I first encountered real tragedy and I’d still been totally blindsided by the permanence of it.
But then Roxie licked Emma’s face again. Emma laughed and the dark moment passed.
Kathleen cleared her throat. “Hey, Nash, can I ask you something?”
I yawned. “What’s up? You want some coffee?”
“No thanks.” She pointed to the empty bottle on the counter. “Did you just give Colin a bottle?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “He just woke up and he seemed really hungry.”
“So this is his second bottle?”
“Unless the rules of arithmetic have changed.”
“And have you burped him?”
“No. He didn’t seem like he needed it.”
Kathleen exhaled a little too loudly and scowled a little. I got the feeling I’d just given her the wrong answer.
There was still a little bit of liquid left in the bottle but Kathleen withdrew it from Colin’s mouth and began to transfer him back to me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said in a singsong high-pitched sweet voice when Colin grunted in protest. “Your big brother’s just gonna burp you.”
I have no fucking business being here.
Colin was still squirming and twisting and I realized I should probably check his diaper. Sure enough, it was heavy and saturated. I had him on the changing table, trying to figure out which way the new diaper was supposed to go, when he let out a squawk, followed by a stream of piss that hit me square in the chest.
“Good aim,” I muttered, managing to get the diaper secured on his body before wiping my chest off with a fist full of baby wipes.
Once he was wearing a clean diaper Colin agreed to be snapped back up into his stretchy one piece. Somehow I did it wrong because I wound up with a front snap that had no match and made the whole outfit look lopsided. But hey, the kid was clean and no longer crying so I wasn’t going to make a thing out of it. I carried him to the kitchen to retrieve one of the last remaining bottles Kat Doyle had prepared. She’d given me two cans of powdered formula and a lot of very precise instructions that I immediately forgot because there was only so much information I could stuff into my head in the space of a few days. No big deal. I’d just add bottle preparation to the long list of things I’d need to figure out.
Colin began energetically drinking a bottle in the cradle of my right arm while I tried to operate the coffee machine one handed. Normally I avoided caffeine but this seemed like a good morning to make an exception. I was surprised to see that the time on the clock above the stove said 8:50 am. My sense of time was all screwed up. I’d assumed it was earlier.
The coffee machine splashed one final stream of liquid into the mug that said ‘Hawk Valley Happiness’. There’d been a half dozen just like it in the cabinet. I didn’t bother with cream or sugar, swallowing the contents as fast as my mouth could stand the heat.
Meanwhile, Colin finished his bottle and let out a whimper. I thought he might still be hungry so I offered him another bottle. He seemed happy to have it.
The knock on the kitchen door almost made me drop my mug of Hawk Valley Happiness. Roxie jumped up. She watched the shadowy shape outside, barked once and then started wagging her tail.
“Did you forget you’re a watchdog?” I asked, flicking aside the yellow curtain covering the glass panel.
Kathleen Doyle waved to me from the other side and I didn’t know whether to groan with annoyance or fling the door open with gratitude. Mostly Kathleen was all right. No longer the skinny nerd who used to follow me around, she was all grown up with a kid of her own and she was obviously grieving over her cousin’s death. Plus she adored Colin and she seemed to know everything about babies so she’d been amazingly helpful. But she could also be exhausting. Kathleen was packed with high energy and extreme competence and at the moment dealing with her felt like a real pain in the ass. Still, I opened the door because she didn’t deserve to see the dickhead side of me.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, preparing to step over the threshold before I’d invited her in. She had her kid with her, a little girl with brown pigtails and a pouty expression. She didn’t look like Kathleen. She probably looked like her father, whoever that was. I hadn’t been rude enough to ask.
Colin responded to the sound of Kathleen’s voice, forgetting the bottle and trying to launch himself in her direction. Kathleen cooed and plucked him out of my arms without asking. Roxie was delighted with her sudden visitors, thumping her tail against the stove and licking the kid’s face.
“I like this dog,” the girl announced, giggling.
“Emma,” her mother warned. “Be careful about petting dogs you don’t know.”
Emma scowled at her mother. “But he likes me.”
“She,” I corrected, cracking a smile. “Her name is Roxie.”
“See Mommy? It’s a she. She’s nice.”
“You still need to be careful.”
I turned to Kathleen. “Look, it’s fine. Roxie wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Kathleen wasn’t listening to me. She was too busy fussing over Colin. “Are you hungry, angel? You want more ba-ba?”
Ba-ba??
Kathleen grabbed the bottle from me and deposited it back into Colin’s mouth. She hummed and rocked him back and forth. I had to admit, the kid didn’t seem bothered by all the attention. He stared up at her with infant awe and seized a clump of her curly red hair, waving it around.
“Is he getting everything he needs?” she asked and finally looked my way. What she found caused her to blink, purse her pretty red lips and return her gaze to the baby.
I was still bare chested, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, but I wasn’t going to break a sweat running upstairs for something better. Kathleen had barged in here unannounced. So if she wanted to scowl and blush and pretend like she was trying not to stare then I hoped she had a damn good time. I took another sip of coffee.
“He’s fine,” I said, slightly bothered that she was questioning whether I was taking care of Colin.
She checked out his crookedly snapped outfit. “Really?”
“Sure. We’ve been having a great time together, invited a few strippers over last night, huffed some glue and partied until the sun came up.”
“Mommy, what’s a stripper?” Emma asked.
Kathleen was annoyed. “Something we’re not going to talk about right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s my fault, Emma,” I said, setting my mug down. “I said a bad word. I’m sorry.”
The child stopped petting Roxie and squinted up at me. “Who are you?”
“Honey, this is Nash Ryan,” Kathleen said. “You’ve met him. He’s Colin’s big brother.”
The little girl was doubtful. “He doesn’t look like a brother. He looks like a dad.”
Kathleen tried again. “He’s Uncle Chris’s oldest son. Remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Emma said and her face fell. It must have been explained to her on some level, the tragedy of Chris and Heather. But there was no telling how much a little kid really understood about death. She probably wasn’t even in kindergarten yet. I’d been a teenager when I first encountered real tragedy and I’d still been totally blindsided by the permanence of it.
But then Roxie licked Emma’s face again. Emma laughed and the dark moment passed.
Kathleen cleared her throat. “Hey, Nash, can I ask you something?”
I yawned. “What’s up? You want some coffee?”
“No thanks.” She pointed to the empty bottle on the counter. “Did you just give Colin a bottle?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “He just woke up and he seemed really hungry.”
“So this is his second bottle?”
“Unless the rules of arithmetic have changed.”
“And have you burped him?”
“No. He didn’t seem like he needed it.”
Kathleen exhaled a little too loudly and scowled a little. I got the feeling I’d just given her the wrong answer.
There was still a little bit of liquid left in the bottle but Kathleen withdrew it from Colin’s mouth and began to transfer him back to me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said in a singsong high-pitched sweet voice when Colin grunted in protest. “Your big brother’s just gonna burp you.”
