Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

29. Ian

Maylene stood in the doorway;brows furrowed. “You’re back.”

I pushed past her into the small entryway and dropped my designer duffel on the floor. “Aren’t you observant?”

“I see your mood hasn’t improved and that you’re planning to stay. Yay me.” She closed the door and turned to face me with her arms crossed against her chest. “What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

“I didn’t come for abuse.”

“Why did you come, because I’m fresh outta fucks.”

“Christ, I don’t need this shit.” I snatched my bag off the floor as somewhere in the house, Maylene’s kid began to cry.

My sister slumped against the door. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m tired and cranky. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since you left. I can’t even remember if I’ve had a shower.”

I took a step back. Dark half-moons were stamped beneath tired, bloodshot eyes. Her hair was flat and stringy. And the worn and faded T-shirt she wore had dried-up crud on her shoulder and chest.

“You look like shit. What the hell—oof!” I was only stating the obvious, which meant I should’ve been prepared for the closed-fist punch to the gut.

“What the fuck, Mally?”

“Do you think I don’t know how bad I look? I won’t even Facetime with Owen right now.” Her head dropped to her chin and her shoulders shook. She let out a loud, pitiful sob. “I don’t want him to see me looking like this.”

The baby’s cries increased in volume and turned to howls.

My sister might look like shit, but I was the one feeling like shit.

I held her against me and patted her back. She really did need a shower. Instead of commenting, I offered to step up.

“Listen,” I said over muffled sobs against my chest. “You go shower, please, and then lie down. I’ll take care of Emery.”

“Elmry,” she mumbled into my T-shirt.

That didn’t sound right. “Elmery?”

She gave me a shove as she stepped back. “Good lord, Ian. She’s almost five months old. How can you not remember your niece’s name?” She angrily swiped her eyes. “You’re as irritating as a box of mosquitoes at a Sunday potluck.”

“Oh yeah?” I countered. “And you’re crankier than a drunk raccoon in a corn maze.”

Maylene looked up and smirked. “I’ll give you that one ‘cause you’re right.”

I slipped my arm around her shoulders and led her down the hallway. “You go take some me time, and I’ll go take care of little Miss Elm… Ell… Em…”

“Sweet Jesus, Ian. Ellery. Ellery. Ell-er-y. What is wrong with you?”

Ellery. Ellery. Ellery. Maybe I should get the kid’s name tattooed on my arm or something.

“It’s not my fault you gave your kid a made-up name.”

I dashed out of the line of fire as we reached the closed door to the baby’s room where the decibels had reached critical levels. Too bad I hadn’t packed a pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

Maylene grabbed me by my arms and turned me toward the source of all the noise and then pointed out the hand-painted pink gingham sign hanging on the door.

“What’s it say, Ian?”

“Ellery.”

“I didn’t catch that. Louder, please.”

You didn’t catch it because your kid is screaming bloody murder.

“It says Ellery. Ellery, okay? Rhymes with celery. I got it.”

“Do you?”

“You want me to write it five hundred times?”

“Maybe later. For now, I would love for you to do what you offered and take care of Ellery so that I can shower and lie down before I fall down.”

I arched my eye at the door, wondering if sympathy for my sister’s plight had me biting off more than I could chew. “Have you tried letting her cry herself to sleep?” I asked.

Maylene’s answer was to open the door and shove me inside, then close it behind me. Despite the air-raid siren emanating from the crib on the opposite wall, I heard the slam of Maylene’s bedroom door further down the hall.

I took a few tentative steps forward. Then a couple more. Ellery saw me and quieted for a few gasping breaths before starting right back up again. Her face was bright red and wet from the steady flow of tears.

“Hey there, girlie. What’s all this noise about, huh? I think you might be getting on your mama’s last nerve. That’s what I think.” I cooed gently and continued speaking nonsense to try and distract her from whatever it was that had her squawking. She stared at my face, her chest rising abruptly with every short breath she sucked in. I approached slowly, cooing and making funny faces. I leaned over and reached into the crib, waiting to see if she wanted me to pick her up or if she would only cry louder. Her feet kicked in the little blanket sack-thing she was wearing, and she blinked up at me with wet, star-tipped lashes.

As I slid my hands under her tiny arms, I noticed that the width of my hand equaled the length of her arm. It was scary, thinking how easily someone my size could hurt someone her size without even realizing it. It almost had me retracting my hands, but the screaming had died down to a few quiet hiccups, which made picking her up worth the risk. I could be gentle. It’s not like I was going to drop her or anything.

Shit. What if I dropped her? Maylene would kick my ass. Owen would probably go AWOL so he could fly back from Afghanistan to kick my ass too.

My hands gripped a little tighter as I lifted Ellery—Emery? Fuck—celery—from her crib and held her against my chest. She might’ve been a little too big for the football hold I’d read about in one of my books, but I did it anyway since it made her feel a little more secure against my chest.

Fine, reddish-blonde slashes furrowed above her eyes as she stared at my mouth. The crying had stopped, and the exaggerated hiccups were almost gone as well. Taking gentle bouncing steps, I moved toward the door. “Your mama needs a little peace and quiet, missy. So you and I are going to head outside for a bit just in case you feel the need to start vocalizing again. That’s quite a set of lungs you got there. Ever hear of Lzzy Hale? I think you could give her a run for her money.” I rocked her gently against my chest. “I could introduce you; I know people.”

When we’d made it to the living room without incident, I checked her diaper, sending up a prayer of thanks when I found it dry. The stroller was on the front porch, but I’d be damned if I could figure out how to open it. Instead, I opted for the baby carrier that was lying in the center of Maylene’s sofa. I read about them in one of my books. It said that if a baby is exceptionally cranky and overtired, then holding them close against the chest might soothe them. I was game.

Besides, it would be good practice if I decided to hang out with my own kid. Not that I’d come to any kind of decision yet, but better to be prepared than having to wing it. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what Maylene was doing—winging it—although I wasn’t brave enough to ask if she’d bothered to read some of the books she’d given me.

I lay the baby carrier on the dining room table. It looked like a bullet-proof vest. I couldn’t tell which way was front and which was the back, nor did I know how to put the damn thing on. Maybe I should try my luck with the stroller.

“You going to just lie there or do you have any tips for how I’m supposed to wear this?”

Ellery stared up at my mouth and blinked.

“Guess not.”

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and searched for the name of the brand emblazoned on what I assumed was the front. After scrolling through endless options and models, I found a link that led to a video showing some guy preparing the carrier and then securing his kid into it. I had to watch it a few times, while the obnoxious midi-file music was enough to make my ears bleed, Ellery didn’t seem to mind, which was all that mattered.

I slipped the carrier around my waist and then hitched it up higher like in the video. I pulled the straps tight enough to secure it, and then picked her up and tried to fit her legs into the harness. Unfortunately, since she was wearing a sack, her legs wouldn’t go into the holes.

“What the fuck?” No matter which way I tried, her legs weren’t going into that harness. I laid her back down on the table and took her out of the stupid bag. Once set free, her little legs kicked and her sausage toes wiggled. She even smiled.

“I feel you, girlie. I like being naked too.”

This time when I slid her in, she fit right into the harness. She was warm and soft against my chest, and though she seemed to have no problem holding her head up on her own—she’d most likely developed strong neck muscles from all that screaming—I resettled her tiny bum into the carrier so that she was resting comfortably. At least I hoped she was comfortable. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t hesitate to scream in my ear and let me know, especially with my ears so dangerously close to her mouth.

It was warm enough outside for me to go without a jacket, but since she was now wearing nothing but a diaper and a little pink onesie, I dug a hooded sweatshirt from my duffel and put it on, zipping her inside.

“How’s that, kiddo? You comfortable? Let’s go outside so your mama can rest.”

She gurgled and kicked her chubby little legs against my hips, which I took to mean she was good with the plan, so that’s what we did.

Once outside, I stood on the porch and looked out over the yard. The grass was high enough to sway. The beds along the walkway were filled with weeds and dead, dried-up plants. My sister was so intent on proving to Owen and everyone else that she was capable of holding down the fort while he was deployed—despite having a colicky baby—that everything outside said fort had fallen into disrepair.

First things first. I called Bailey and told her to find a lawn maintenance company and get a contract for them to take care of Maylene’s yard for the next year, including snow plowing. If I knew my sister, she’d be outside shoveling with the kid strapped to her chest.

“Your mama ain’t gonna like me interfering none, but too fucking bad,” I muttered to the little head peeking out the top of my sweatshirt. None of my family liked it when I threw money at their problems, but I had more than I knew what to do with. What good was having it if I couldn’t help the people I loved?

With that taken care of—and Bailey letting me know that the landscapers couldn’t get here for at least a week, despite the bribes I told her to offer them—I dipped into the garage to see what I could do in the meantime.

It had been years since I’d cut grass—not since before Beau and I left West Virginia for Nashville after graduating high school. At least my sister had a ride-on mower. With the kidlet strapped to my chest, it should be easy enough to cut the grass. I snuck back into the house and found the noise-cancelling headphones Maylene bought so she could bring her kid to the benefit concert we did back in May.

I slipped the little pink headphones over her head and when she blinked up at me, I felt a rush of warmth next to my heart. Would Madison bring our kid to a concert one day? Doubtful. But if she ever did, I’d make sure she had the best noise-cancelling headphones money could buy.

Then again, my kid would want to listen to her daddy rocking out.

I rubbed at the hollow spot in the center of my chest. Indigestion, probably.

After tightening the straps on the carrier and making sure Celery was snug and comfortable, I popped the pink binky, which was attached by a string to the carrier, into her mouth and hit the starter on the mower. The vibrations from the machine ran up through me, and the little bug on my chest smiled. And drooled.

“Not cool, girlie,” I said as the equivalent of a waterfall ran down her chin and dripped onto my sweatshirt. “Not cool.”

I dabbed at the little puddle with the edge of my sleeve, but it was pointless, as the slobber just kept coming. I resigned myself to a wet shirt and hit the gas.

“Off we go,” I said, even though she couldn’t hear me with the headphones on.

Could babies read lips?

Starting with the front, we bounced around the yard, tackling the jungle there first. Celery Ellery smiled and drooled some more, and it was hard not to watch her instead of where I was going. The kid was cute, despite the leaking. Could be worse. She could be leaking from the other end. And given that she was currently strapped to my body? I shivered. “Don’t even think about it, kiddo.”

We hit the equivalent of a pothole and the mower bounced. Ellery let out a loud laugh, and even over the droning of the mower in my ears, it was one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. I swung around and hit it again.

Ellery let out a belly laugh that honestly, melted my heart. She was a cutie, all right, but why wouldn’t she be? She had Donohue DNA, and I was a fucking…a fucking…

A fucking fuckboy. That’s what I was.

We hit the bump again. Ellery laughed, and I tried to shake off whatever it was that had just flared up to undermine me. I went around one more time and then straightened the mower and set out to finish the front before Maylene’s neighbors called to tell her some drunk was mowing doughnuts in her front yard.

Ellery blinked up at me, grinning, and not the least bit sleepy. She was enjoying the ride and the fresh air. The smell of fresh-cut grass—one of my favorites—didn’t hurt either.

“I’m a rock star, ya know, and rock stars don’t do this shit,” I patted the squirmy lump on my chest. “But for you, and your mama, I’d do anything.” I dropped a kiss on her little bald head.

We rumbled over the sloping front yard as I took a wide turn with the mower and aimed it toward the side yard. From just inches away, Ellery watched my mouth move, her peach-colored brow furrowed and the binky I’d popped back into her mouth bobbing every now and then. It looked like she was formulating a few thoughts for us to discuss later.

No longer the screaming, red-face runt that had been thrust upon me when I arrived, everything was cool as we cruised around the rest of the yard, focusing on whatever divots I could find for laughs. Totally drool-worthy.

By the time we finished the yard, put away the mower, and went back inside, the sun was sitting low in the sky. I stepped into the house to find Maylene stretched out on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, and a magazine in her hand.

The bags under her eyes were still there, but far less noticeable than they were when I’d arrived. Her sleepy smile warmed my heart nearly as much as Ellery’s had.

“You’re the best brother in the world.”

I snorted. “Duh.”

“How about I treat you to dinner at Roosters. I don’t feel like cooking or even reheating leftovers. I could go for one of their burgers.”

The soft, warm little person strapped to my chest sighed and her eyes fluttered—more closed than open. “What about this?” I whispered, pointing to Celery Ellery.

“What about her?” Maylene smiled. “You’re doing a fine job. Besides, I’m taking a mental health day. You offered to help, and I accepted.”

“Yeah, but?—”

“And be gentle when you take her out of the carrier and put her in her car seat,” Maylene said as she rose from the sofa. “You don’t want to wake her up. If you’re lucky, she’ll stay asleep in the car seat and you’ll be able to eat in peace.”

“You’re serious? You’re not gonna take care of your kid?”

My sister gave me a happy, sleepy smile. “Not tonight, buddy. She’s all yours.” Her smile widened. “Consider it on-the-job training. You’re welcome.”

Looking down at my niece, a whiff of baby shampoo and something unrecognizable but just as sweet, washed over me. Something that had me wanting to nuzzle my nose in the rolls of her chubby little neck. Instead, I planted a gentle kiss atop the soft, pulsing spot atop her head and took a deeper breath. It was addictive.

Maybe I did need that on-the-job training.

“Fine,” I whispered, not wanting to wake little Elm… Shit! Celery! My kid was getting a normal name, like Mary or Susan.

Last thing I wanted was to go around forgetting my kid’s name.

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Maylene asked around a mouthful of a burger as big as her baby’s head.

“About what?” I responded, shoveling French fries into my mouth.

“About the price of oil in the Middle East,” she snarked. “What the hell do you think I mean? Jesus, Ian, you are not this dense.”

I frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

She snatched my half-full glass of beer and took a sip.

“Hey!”

“You’re driving,” she said, grinning. “I’m on a break, remember. You, my friend, are on uncle duty. When we get home, I’m going to pop in some earplugs and then sleep the sleep of the dead.” She lifted my glass. “This will help. Besides, the doctor said if I time it right, an occasional drink is fine. The alcohol will be out of my system in two hours. And since I’ve got breast milk stored in the freezer at home, and you’re the one getting up with her during the night, it”s all good.”

Lucky me.

The kid slept soundly beside me in the car seat, which meant she would probably be awake most of the night. If Maylene was hoping to get me to sign up for fatherhood, robbing me of sleep wasn’t the smartest way to go about it.

She drained the glass and yawned. “Listen up. When a man and woman meet, fall in love, and get married?—”

“For fuck’s sake, please tell me you’re not going to tell me about the birds and the bees. I’m way beyond that.” I grinned. “Have been since I was fifteen.”

The I-can-still-kick-your-ass look she shot me had me biting my tongue to keep from laughing.

“May I finish?”

I waved her on.

“When a man and woman meet, fall in love, and get married, settling down, buying a house, and often times, having a baby, are the typical order of things—or at least that’s what we were taught to believe. That doesn’t mean you need to follow any of that. Not everyone does. But the thing is, baby bro, you’re gonna be a daddy. Like it or not. And judging by how you are with Ellery—and I swear to God, if you ask me who Ellery is, I will give you a wedgie that you’re gonna feel until your next birthday—judging by how you are with Ellery—even the limited time you’ve spent with her—I know you’re going to be a terrific dad.”

Her voice softened. “You’re a natural, Ian. You were born to be a father. After all, you’re just an overgrown kid yourself.”