Chapter 29
Ashlyn
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
It’s funny how when you are used to a baby’s cry summoning you from sleep, you feel uneasy when it doesn’t happen.
I’m not sure why, but something doesn’t feel right.
I look over at Zane, who is sleeping soundly next to me.
He’s lying on his back, one hand on his torso, one above his head, elbow bent.
His hair is tousled, and his toned chest is rising and falling rhythmically with his breath.
Yet, I feel uneasy.
It feels like I didn’t just wake up on my own, but like something woke me.
It feels like someone is watching me. Watching us.
I glance out the balcony door, and my blood runs cold.
Then I scream.
Zane flies up into a sitting position and instinctively grabs me.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” he blurts out.
“There’s someone out there,” I cry.
“Someone out where?” he asks.
“Outside,” I point.
“On the balcony?” he asks confusedly.
“Yes. I saw someone. I saw a face,” I tell him, holding on to the arm he has wrapped around me.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t know how someone could get up there. We’re on the second floor.”
“I saw someone!” I snap back.
Then my heart drops another level in my stomach. “Oh god. Bentley…”
Before Zane can ask any more questions, I jump up, dashing down the hall in a frantic sprint to his room. I burst through his door and come to a screeching halt over his bed.
But his room is quiet other than the sound machine and his suckling.
“He’s fine,” Zane says, standing over me. “See? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“But I saw someone,” I whisper, and I can feel him take in a careful breath.
“Ashlyn, I know it’s scary thinking about all the people who try to sneak around. The people who want photos and all that bullshit. But there’s no one out there.”
“You didn’t see them,” I whisper harshly.
“No, I didn’t. But he’s safe. Security is right down the street.”
“Security that people can get past,” I say, and he winces.
“Fair enough. But it doesn’t happen often. You were kind of an exception,” he says.
“Yeah, me and the woman who dropped him off in the middle of the night.”
“It’s a lot easier for a woman and a baby to get through security than someone with a camera or a weapon,” he says, and I panic.
“A weapon? Why would anyone have a weapon?!”
“No one has a weapon,” he says, taking me in his arms. “And no one is going to get inside, okay?”
I nod, but I’m not so sure.
“Now come back to bed,” he says.
“In a minute,” I tell him, scooping Bentley up and sitting in the rocker. Zane takes a deep breath but lets it out with a small smile.
I don’t care what he says or thinks. I saw someone. I know I did. And the idea of someone being out there makes my skin crawl. But it’s not fear so much as anger. The idea of anyone trying to hurt him or take him from me makes my blood boil. Because fuck that!
I hold Bentley close and rock him, humming the song from the mobile. Slowly, sleep starts to take me, but just as my eyes droop, I see a flash of light out the window and then a blur.
I let out a gasp and hop up from the chair, running down the hallway back to Zane’s room.
“I saw it again!” I say. “Someone was there. They had a camera.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, I am sure! Zane, there is someone out there. Look at the security cameras,” I tell him, and he raises his eyebrows.
I bite my lips while mentally kicking myself. “Right. I made you take most of them down.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he says. “I will have them put back up tomorrow, and I’ll call security to see if they saw anything too. Honestly, some camera creep is probably just snooping around. But as you know, they’re mostly harmless. Come, lay down.”
I hesitate, looking down at Bentley, who is still miraculously sleeping in my arms.
“Fine,” I give in. “But Bentley is sleeping with us.”
* * *
“We should have known better than to assume last night’s bliss was the new norm,” Zane drones with his hands over his face.
“He’s little,” I say in Bentley’s defense as I change his diaper.
“When do they usually start sleeping through the night?” he asks, handing me the wipes.
“When they have an established sleep schedule,” I tell him. “Diaper?”
Zane hands me one. “How do we do that?”
“If I had to guess,” I say as I pick Bentley up and wrap him in his blanket. “He had one before his mom dropped him off here. And now it’s messed up because it’s a new house and new people and he misses her.”
“Even though we’re the ones taking care of him?” he asks.
“That’s not really how it works. Not yet,” I say, and I head off to the kitchen to get a bottle.
Zane follows. “I’m sorry. I’m just in over my head here.”
“I know,” I say with a yawn. “We both are, honestly.”
“Listen,” Zane says as he grabs the bottle and holds out his hands. “Let me take him. You get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?” I ask groggily. Because as much as I love taking care of babies, I’m pretty tired. Okay, I’m delirious and running on autopilot right now. “Don’t offer it if you don’t mean it.”
“I mean it,” Zane says softly, and I pass Bentley off to him.
“Let me know if you need me,” I say.
“We will be okay, won’t we, Little Man?”
Even in my zombie state, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I squeeze his shoulder before heading off to bed.
When I wake up, the house is quiet. Sunlight is pouring through the windows, warming the room to a cozy temperature. Outside, birds are singing, and the air is salty and sweet. Everything feels lovely. And that loveliness is even more amplified when I walk into the nursery.
Zane is passed out in the rocker, an empty bottle in one hand. Bentley is lying in his crib, bright-eyed and kicking and jabbering away.
I run a hand through Zane’s hair and he stirs, looking around to get his bearings.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey. Is Bentley okay?”
“Yes. Bentley is fine,” I tell him, scooping Bentley up to show him. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I can take it from here.”
“That sounds great,” Zane groans, pushing up from the chair.
Zane heads down the hall, and I head into the kitchen, strapping Bentley into the high chair. “Alright, Sweet Boy, what’s it going to be? We have protein pancakes, egg whites, low-fat yogurt, berries, something mushy and green…” Bentley grunts, and I scrunch up my nose. “Yeah…my thought exactly.”
I make Bentley a bottle and some rice cereal mixed with banana puree.
Then I grab a yogurt with some berries for myself.
“You really have turned this hour upside down,” I tell him as I spoon-feed him the cereal.
“You’ve turned everything upside down. But that’s okay.
Some of the best things in life are unexpected.
Even if they did happen in a less than ordinary way. ”
Bentley makes sucking noises as he figures out how to handle the texture of the food, and I smile at him, catching some of the banana on his chin with the spoon. “You look like him,” I tell him. “Like your daddy.”
For a moment, I wonder what Bentley’s mom looks like. And what drove her to abandon her baby. I know that people have their limits, and things are almost never black and white. But it’s still hard for me, in my position, to wrap my brain around it.
Bentley knocks the spoon out of my hand with a squeal, sending a glob of banana and cereal everywhere. I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, boy,” I smile, setting everything aside. “I take it you’re finished? I also think you’re going to need a bath.”
I unstrap him and we head into the bathroom. I run the warm water and grab the baby soap, a powder-scented one, not the lavender, and unbutton him from his sticky clothes.
Bentley squeals and splashes around, sucking on the teether. I handed it to him to keep his hands busy while I wash his hair, hands, and feet.
“Are you teething?” I ask. He gnaws on the teether vigorously with his front teeth. “I think that answers that,” I say as I continue scrubbing banana out of his curls. “That would also explain all the hard nights, huh?”
Bentley just continues to splash around, and I laugh as we finish the bath. After I dress him, we play for a while, and then he yawns, ready for his morning nap.
“See?” I say as I rock him for a few minutes before laying him down.
“We can start a schedule. Pretty soon we’ll have a routine that works for all of us.
” I turn on his mobile and walk out of the nursery with a smile.
Then I head to my bathroom. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a bath of my own, and with both boys crashed out, I am going to enjoy it to the fullest.
I take my time, using oils, a deep conditioner, and a face mask. Then I lather myself in lotion and do a vitamin C skincare routine. I haven’t done that since I crash-landed in Zane’s hot tub. My life has been off the rails since that night.
I slip into a summer dress and put on some mascara and lip gloss before heading out into the kitchen. No offense to Zane and his nine percent body fat diet, but I need more than yogurt. I am surprised to find Zane in the kitchen with Bentley.
“Oh,” I say. “That was a short nap.”
“Not really,” Zane says. “You were in the bathtub for two hours.”
“I was?” I ask, looking at the clock. “I was.”
Zane smirks. “After letting me go back to bed, I would definitely say you deserve it.”
“He’s teething,” I tell him. “I think that’s why he’s been so fussy.”
“Ouch, yeah. That would do it,” Zane says.
“But he’s happy now. Why don’t we get out of the house?” I ask.
“Both of us? With Bentley?” he asks.
“Yes,” I laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time. You’re not afraid of being seen, are you? With us, I mean.”
“Of course not,” he says. “It just feels so…family-ish,” he answers.
“Does that bother you?” I ask, but Zane just smiles.
“Not at all. Maybe we can get lunch too,” he says.
“That sounds amazing.”
We pack up and head out. It takes longer than normal, of course, though I don’t know if Zane was expecting it to take quite as long as it does. Just packing the diaper bag took forever. Once we get the stroller loaded up and Bentley buckled in his car seat, we are ready to go.
“I feel like every day we do something new. Something that makes me feel like I am in over my head,” he admits. We are at a little lunch cantina downtown, within walking distance from a park. He’s eating a taco salad that is mostly meat and lettuce, and I have a platter of street tacos.
“You’re not in over your head,” I argue, taking a sip of my mid-day happy hour special margarita.
“Zane, you just found out that you’re a father.
Not only that, but you pretty much got full temporary custody overnight as well.
At least until they figure out what’s going on with Nikki.
And yet you’ve kind of just embraced the whole thing. ”
“What else would I have done?” he asks, and I shrug.
“A lot of other people might have walked away and left it to the police and CPS to figure out,” I say, and Zane actually tenses up. “He’s my son. CPS doesn’t need to be involved,” he says sternly, but I just smile.
“That’s what I’m talking about. That’s what matters. Not whether or not you know how to put on a diaper so it won’t leak or how to use a wipe warmer,” I say.
“For the record, wipe warmers are dumb,” he says. “A lot of baby gear is dumb.”
I laugh at that because he’s not entirely wrong. The fact that he figured that out so quickly is pretty impressive.
Bentley starts fussing in his stroller, and I pick him up, kissing him on the forehead before hushing him. Zane’s smile is warm as he watches me.
“You know, playing mom looks good on you,” he says. His choice of words is interesting; my lips screw into a smile.
“Well, playing dad looks good on you too,” I say. Even though Bentley really is his, and he really did become a dad overnight without warning.
“You know, maybe…” he says, reaching across the table to take my hand in his. “Maybe we aren’t playing.”
“What do you mean?” I ask softly as my heart thumps in my chest.
“Maybe this could be our life. Me and you, and him. Maybe it could be real. Maybe it could even be forever…”
My apprehensive smile tugs into a full grin, and I lean over to kiss him. With Bentley between us, our lips collide, and for the first time, I feel like I could finally get what I’ve always wanted.