Chapter 18 The Neonate and the New Parents
THE NEONATE AND THE NEW PARENTS
*Samantha*
The Friday before Christmas, Kaitlyn’s apartment was a zone of clutter and chaos.
Packing cubes and zipped pouches covered every square inch of the sectional and ottoman.
Every open surface bore witness to at least one pile.
Baby onesies in a pastel avalanche, an unsettling number of travel-size Clorox wipes, industrial-strength diaper paste, and a dizzying array of chargers, cables, and adaptors.
I’d spent the day running interference on a fifteen-pound screaming potato so Kaitlyn could do recon at the shops and come home armed for her flight to California.
Now, in the late afternoon, the apartment was a battle between two competing energies.
Kaitlyn, coolly methodical, folding and zipping and stashing with the efficiency of a veteran general; and Joey, who’d managed, against all odds, to wedge his entire body under the living room coffee table and was making a series of wet, determined noises that suggested the imminent birth of a tooth.
But then he cried. It was his tired cry, not his wet-diaper cry.
So I made him a bottle of stashed breast milk and rocked him to sleep.
When I came out of the nursery a half hour later, I felt tired, but determined.
My job, as I saw it, was to be a sounding board and also to keep Joey from swallowing anything not on the pediatrician’s approved foods list. I was failing at the second one (at last count, he’d gnawed the corners off two foam packing blocks), but I was crushing it at the first.
Because all during Kaitlyn’s packing session, there had to be an emotional component.
It was required by law, like how TSA makes you take off your shoes even if you’re wearing Crocs and have a TSA PreCheck tattooed on your forehead.
Kaitlyn’s emotional component was, “Tell me everything about your sex life, and don’t leave anything out. ”
Earlier, I’d tried deflecting. (“Don’t you want to talk about Martin?”) But Kaitlyn had batted that aside. (“You already know everything.”)
Now she was on her fourth packing cube, expertly shuffling pajama sets and toddler socks, when she said, “So, as you were saying before you put down Joey, you’re going to Rome on Monday. What’s the plan—just watch him play chess and drink espresso?”
I shrugged. “There’s a spa at the hotel.
He’s got matches, interviews, and press the whole time.
I’ll mostly be making sure he eats and sleeps and maybe helping him avoid the international chess paparazzi.
” I paired the word paparazzi with jazz hands.
“It’s going to be a lot of room service and weirdly elaborate breakfast buffets. ”
Kaitlyn eyed me over the rim of a Ziploc full of charging cords. “What’s on your mind? Something is bothering you.”
I hesitated. I hadn’t planned to say any of this out loud, not yet, but it was Kaitlyn. So, why not.
“It’s weird,” I said, picking at a stray Cheerio glued to my thigh. “We sleep together every night, and always end up cuddling. And then, in the morning, he’s—like—extremely ready to do something as soon as I wake up.”
Kaitlyn snorted. “Martin is the same way. It’s like, as soon as I crack an eyelid, his hands are all over me.”
I shook my head, not sure how I wanted to put this next part. “But with Andreas, it’s strange. He only ever wants to give me orgasms.”
She stopped stuffing pajamas and looked at me, full attention now. “What do you mean?”
“He’s obsessed with my body,” I said, feeling both ridiculous and, if I was being honest, smug.
“He stares at me all the time. Like, it’s not even subtle.
It’s like he’s memorizing every square inch for a quiz.
But he never lets me return the favor. It’s like he’s .
. .” I trailed off, realizing I didn’t know how to finish.
“He’s shy?” Kaitlyn guessed, still folding but now mostly on autopilot.
“I don’t know if that’s it. He’s a little shy, I think.
” I stared at the ceiling, running through all the data points.
“But it’s more than that. Like, I know he really enjoyed it when I gave him a hand job, but I get the sense he’s denying himself for some reason.
He's put up this internal boundary that he doesn’t let himself cross. ”
Kaitlyn finished a cube and zipped it with a flourish, then set it on top of the suitcase with a thunk.
“That’s understandable. If you remember, I was very shy when I first started becoming intimate with Martin.
I hated being naked in front of him, and not because I disliked my body.
It’s just, it felt weird, and not good-weird.
It made me feel vulnerable, like it was a risk.
Do you think that’s what’s going on with Andreas? ”
I considered this. I’d shared everything with Kaitlyn, because all people needed someone they could talk to about absolutely anything, and Kaitlyn had always been that person for me. Likewise, I had always been that person for her. So, I knew she’d listen with full seriousness.
“Maybe,” I said.
Kaitlyn abandoned the pajamas and perched on the edge of the coffee table. She watched me for a second.
“Have you asked him about it?” This was the most obvious solution.
I made a noise like a deflating tire. “I don’t want to push. I figure he’ll tell me when he’s ready, right?”
Kaitlyn smirked. “I guess you just have to accept him giving you multiple orgasms every morning and every night until he’s ready to tell you why he’s holding himself back from reciprocation.”
“He’s taken so many cold showers, he actually got a cold last week,” I said, and we both laughed, but I felt a little bad for him, too.
Kaitlyn pressed her lips together and said, “Poor baby. He’s got it bad for you. Why won’t he just let himself feel good?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The only thing I can do is be patient.”
She seemed to study me for a moment, eyes narrowed as if looking through a microscope. Then she said, “Have his brothers harassed you again?”
I shook my head. “No, thankfully. I haven’t seen either of them for weeks. Are you suggesting that the threat from his brothers could be giving him psychological cock-block?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. And what about his father. Any news?”
“No. In fact, Andreas hasn’t heard anything for days, which is strange, so he sent someone to investigate. He should hear back today or tomorrow.”
“Then, do you think maybe Andreas is being cautious because of the ‘friends-with-benefits’ and ‘no-strings’ thing you two have going on?”
I blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe he’s falling in love with you and he doesn’t want to be devastated when you leave. So, he’s holding himself back, reserving parts of himself.”
My heart picked up pace, and I felt my cheeks flush. “Do you think so?”
Kaitlyn nodded. “If it were me, I would do the same thing.”
I fumbled for a counter-argument. “What? Hold yourself back?”
“Yes,” she said. “Because why would I give myself—my body—fully to someone who doesn’t also want all of me? That’s how I think, but maybe that’s not how Andreas thinks.”
She went back to her packing cubes, folding and stacking, but I could tell she was watching my reaction out of the corner of her eye. I stared forward, feeling a weird combination of guilt and longing.
After a minute, I blurted, “I think I’m in love with him.”
Kaitlyn froze. The pajamas in her hands sagged to the table, forgotten. She turned to look at me, her expression raw and shocked. “Are you serious?”
I nodded, because anything else would have been a lie.
She said, “Oh my God,” and sat down hard next to me.
“I know!” I picked up a throw pillow and pressed my face to it, muffling a scream.
Kaitlyn set her hand on my knee, squeezing until I looked at her. “Are you going to tell him?”
I nodded, still half buried in the pillow. “Yes. I feel like I’ll burst if I don’t tell him. And it’s not fair, right? It’s not fair of me to keep calling this no-strings when I want strings. We’re heading to Rome for his chess tournament on Monday. I think I’ll tell him in Rome.”
Kaitlyn smiled, real and big, then pulled me into a hug. “You’re not feeling squeamish anymore about him legally adopting you?”
I shook my head. “No. Not at all, actually. I haven’t thought about that in weeks. Besides, it’s all for revenge. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just paperwork, and I certainly don’t consider Andreas a father figure at all.”
“Have you talked to your therapist about this? This is huge for you.”
“Yes. And she agrees. I should be honest with him. And, she didn’t say as much, but I get the sense she approves of him.”
Kaitlyn laughed, and the sound was warm and safe, like a heated blanket right out of the dryer. “For the record, I approve too. I think he’s great, and I love how he pampers you. You deserve pampering.”
I smiled and felt a little overwhelmed by my happy feelings, which were rare and precious.
Waving my hands in the air, I said, “Let’s change the subject. I’m already too obsessed with him as it is. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay . . . How’s work? You haven’t talked about work in ages.”
I gave her the quick version of the drama that happened with Dr. Hauser and James before and after Thanksgiving, hitting the highlights—the funding reinstatement, the departmental gossip, Dmitry’s campaign to befriend Andreas.
When I finished, Kaitlyn shook her head. “I can’t believe all of this was happening and you didn’t tell me!” She smacked me with one of Joey’s onesies. “You really are obsessed with Andreas. You didn’t even tell me about something so important. Oh! Speaking of important. Wait right here.”
She jumped up and disappeared down the hallway, then came back less than a minute later, carrying a pile of folders and papers. On top of the stack was a thumb drive.
“I know you told me not to, but I had Martin’s people do some investigating about your dad and this is everything they found, in hard copy and digital.”