Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty - Four
Dave
“W hen I told you to buy a house for Zara, I meant that you should ask , first.” My sister delivered this bit of advice while we sat on the front porch of the cabin eating waffle cones after a late lunch .
“The real estate agent had me all spun up. ‘Act now. They could both be gone tomorrow .’”
Bess rolled her eyes. “It’s good to remember that there’s a reason I negotiate on your behalf .”
“You weren’t around,” I said, defending myself. “And the houses here just aren’t very expensive. You could buy eight or ten of them for the price of my two-bedroom condo in Brooklyn .”
“Be that as it may,” my sister complained, “since you went all Tarzan on Zara, she isn’t returning your calls. So I don’t get to see my niece ?”
“I don’t remember Tarzan investing in real estate .”
Bess giggled in spite of herself. “Still. You could have eased her into the house idea. Not everybody shops the way you do. How many apartments did you look at in Brooklyn before you bought your condo ?”
“ One .”
“One other one ?”
“No. Just the one .”
My sister laughed. “Why can’t you be that decisive about your contract extension ?”
“Why didn’t you get me a better contract extension?” I fired back .
“It’s better than anyone else could have gotten you.” My sister had never lacked confidence. “Text her again. I want to hold that baby .”
“Maybe she’s busy,” I pointed out. “Her friend is getting married today. I think it’s today.” I wasn’t going to pester Zara just because Bess was Little Miss Eager. Lately, every time Bess said Nicole’s name, she looked a little possessed .
“ Please ?”
I pulled out my phone and tapped out a message. Hey, Z. Bess is still hoping to see Nicole before tomorrow night. But if you’re busy with the wedding, we’ll understand .
“I won’t understand,” Bess argued .
“ Bess …”
My phone rang in my hand. Zara’s number. “Look, pushy,” I said to my sister. “Maybe it’s your lucky day.” Then I answered the phone. “Hello, gorgeous .”
“Hi,” Zara said, sounding out of breath. “I am sorry I didn’t get back to you and Bess, but I’m having a day .”
“It’s no problem,” I said, making myself sound as chill as possible. Because maybe I really had behaved like a bulldozer about the house thing. “Isn’t that wedding today ?”
“Yeah. And I’m in a bit of a situation. It is totally fine if you two are busy, but I have a wild little favor to ask .”
“Name it,” I said. “We’re sitting on the porch doing nothing .”
“Well, is there any way I could drop Nicole off with you for about ninety minutes ?”
“Sure.” Bess would probably wet herself with excitement. “Are you having a babysitting emergency ?”
“My mother’s friend fainted at the hair salon this morning, and Mom took her to the ER. They’ve already decided it’s not serious, but they waited a long time to see a doctor and they’re not back from Burlington yet …”
“Come on over,” I told her. “It’s fine. We’ll watch her .”
Beside me, Bess let out a little shriek of joy. And, hey—if I could make my sister smile and do Zara a favor at the same time, that made two women happy. That’s two more than usual, so I was counting it as a win .
Twenty minutes later, Zara’s crappy little car pulled up beside my rental. She emerged from the driver’s side, full of apologies. But I missed the first few things she said because I was too busy admiring her in a sleeveless, flowered dress. Not only was she showing some very kissable skin, but her hair was loose and wavy, and she was wearing a little more makeup than usual, so her brown eyes looked enormous .
I had the same damned reaction to her that I always did—pure, burning lust .
“Milk doesn’t need to be warmed. It’s a hot day. I don’t care how many of those crackers she eats, either. All my plans are blown to bits today, so just keep her happy. If you can.” Zara cringed. “Once she wakes up and realizes I’m not here, she might howl. I’m sorry .”
“It will be fine ,” Bess clucked. “We can take it. I brought toys .”
Of course she did .
“Okay.” Zara let out a deep breath. “I have to get back for the ceremony before Audrey has a coronary. The handoff would have been easier if Nicole hadn’t conked out in the car, but…” She opened the back door, and there was the baby, strapped into her car seat in a checkered dress, rounded limbs flung out in every direction, eyes pressed closed .
“I’ll pick her up,” I offered, but Bess beat me to it. She carefully unclipped the harness and fit her hands under the sleeping child. Supporting her head, she lifted the baby out of the car .
“Hey, listen,” I said to Zara, realizing something. “If you need me to bring her to you at the Shipleys’ farm, I’m going to need the car seat .”
“Oh, jeez!” Zara slapped a hand across her forehead. “You’re right. There goes another ten minutes. I have to show you how to secure it …”
I pulled out the keys to my rental and offered them to her. “Let’s just switch .”
She hesitated less than half a second. “I owe you big, hockey man .”
“ Hockey man ?”
She shrugged, handing me her set of car keys. “I’ll text you the address as soon as the ceremony is over. I really appreciate this!” She jogged around the car, heading for mine .
“Take a breath, babe. Everything is fine .”
That’s when Nicole let out a wail .
“Uh-oh,” Zara said, hesitating, her hand on the door .
Go , Bess mouthed, rubbing the baby’s back .
Zara bit her lip. Then she jumped in my car and drove away .
* * *
U nfortunately, Nicole was quite determined not to join the list of females I’d made happy today .
Woken from her nap to find herself with strangers, she would not be soothed. If anything, the wailing got louder .
Bess tried everything. She offered the kid a bottle of milk and a handful of crackers. She fetched a toy she’d brought from a specialty shop in Michigan .
Nope, nope, and nope. Nicole’s face had turned bright red, and I didn’t know how one small person could make so many tears .
There was nothing wrong with my child’s lungs, that was for sure .
Poor Bess paced the house with the baby in her arms. “Shhh, honey,” she said. She tried singing a couple rounds of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” But nothing worked .
I didn’t know I’d have to step in until my sister began to look tearful herself. “I know I shouldn’t be offended,” she said. “She only wants her mother .”
Uh-oh. Sad sister. It was time for an intervention .
“I’ll take a turn getting yelled at,” I told her, scooping Nicole out of her arms. “You relax for a minute.” Maybe find some ear plugs .
Nicole howled at me when I took her. She opened her mouth so wide I could see her tonsils rattling as she cried. Like the baby on The Simpsons , except cuter .
“I know, girl,” I said, just in case she was listening. “You want your mama. We’re going to see her in a while. She’s pretty great. I understand how you feel .”
The crying really seemed to bounce off the walls of the cabin, so I pushed open the screen door and went outside. The breeze had kicked up, tossing all the leaves on the branches. The baby’s cries became a little distracted as she followed the movement with her big brown eyes .
“How do you feel about hammocks?” I asked her. Did other people ramble on to babies like this? Probably. It would be rude not to ask her opinion. “This hammock is my favorite thing about the cabin,” I told her, sitting carefully down in the center of it. I rocked for a moment. And when the crying didn’t get worse, I tilted until I was lying down in the hammock, one foot anchored on the ground for stability .
Nicole turned her body, struggling a little until she was lying in the crook of my arm. That took some effort, so she had to stop crying to do it. She began making little snuffling sounds, her back hitching with each shuddery inhale. Then she let out a big, resigned sigh .
“Sorry you’re stuck with me,” I whispered, and she listened. I nudged the ground with my foot, and we swung gently .
One little hand suddenly gripped my thumb, but she didn’t complain .
“It’s nice here,” I pointed out. “Not too hot, not too cold. If you want to finish that nap you started, now might be a good time. Just sayin ’.”
Small fingers sifted through the hair at my wrist, and I rocked the hammock gently again. We had a view of the treetops, where the breeze whispered. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bess’s face appear in the window of the cabin. She was probably wondering what I’d done to stop the crying. But she was smart enough not to come outside and ask .
The baby was a warm weight against my ribcage. The breeze was sweet on my face. The July day held its breath for me, and the baby didn’t start crying again .
I must have dozed off. The next sound I registered was the faux-shutter noise of a phone snapping pictures. I opened my eyes to see Castro standing over me, grinning away, tapping the screen repeatedly. I gave him a glare. Don’t wake up this baby or I will end you . Nicole was passed out, her little face turned into my chest, her eyes screwed shut .
Grinning, Castro backed away, then handed the phone to Bess who was lurking nearby. They fled when I gave them another glare .
I lay there a while longer. Parts of my body were numb, and my healing shoulder was stiff. But a twenty-million-dollar signing bonus wouldn’t have been enough to make me move .
Who would even recognize me right now? Two weeks ago I’d driven to Vermont with very different ideas about how my vacation—and my life—were supposed to go. Whatever Castro had captured on that camera was a shot I’d never expected to pose for. It was madness. I knew this .
Weirdly enough, I didn’t mind all that much just now .
* * *
E ventually Nicole woke up from her nap, this time in a better mood .
Bess spread a blanket on the lawn, and the baby deigned to sit on her lap, snacking on strawberries, while I did some stretches on the grass and watched my sister. She’d brought Nicole a wooden school bus with little painted peg people that fit inside the top. The bus rolled on its perfect wooden wheels, but the baby seemed to like taking the people out and then putting them in again, one at a time .
The toy looked handmade, and I wondered where Bess had gotten it, and what she saw when she looked at it. Bess and I never had anything that nice to play with, ever. I remembered loving the Head Start program my mother had dumped me in when I was four because they had toys there, and I could touch them whenever I wanted to .
Jesus .
The worst thing about the last two weeks wasn’t the stress of finding out I’d fathered a child. And it wasn’t getting yelled at by a baby or my sister. The worst part was a brain full of shitty old memories. No lie—every tense conversation with Zara was easier than five minutes alone with my own head .
I pulled out my phone to distract myself. There were texts from Zara, with an address for the farm. Her mother was scheduled to arrive at the wedding during the ceremony. And Zara would text me when it was over, probably around six .
It was almost six now .
I knelt beside the spot where Bess sat with Nicole. “I’m going to change. Don’t want to walk through someone’s wedding wearing this.” I pointed at my gym shorts and T- shirt .
“Good plan,” Bess said without looking up .
But when I got up to go, Nicole squawked. Then she raised her short little arms up to me .
“Wow, Davey.” Bess put a hand on her heart and smiled. “The lady wants your attention .”
“I’m just going upstairs,” I said to Nicole. “I’ll be right back .”
That apparently wasn’t good enough. She put her little hands on the ground and pushed herself into a standing position. Then she came for me .
“Fine,” I said, caving. I didn’t want her to cry again. “Let’s go find a nicer shirt for me to wear.” I scooped her up and carried her indoors .
Upstairs, my bed was unmade. So I awkwardly tugged the comforter up while holding Nicole in one arm. “Okay, little miss.” I deposited her on the bed. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” I opened the closet to locate the button down I’d brought to Vermont. I grabbed my T-shirt and pulled it off. Then I tossed it at Nicole, and it came down on her head .
She giggled from underneath .
I hastily buttoned up the clean shirt and pulled my nicer pair of khakis out of a drawer. But then I hesitated. Nicole had shrugged off the T-shirt and was watching me. So I turned away like a prude and changed my pants facing into the closet. If she had an opinion on the color of my boxers she did not express it .
When I turned around again, she had crawled to the edge of the bed and was leaning down, head first. So far down that —
I lunged, catching her by the waist just as she nearly executed a face plant onto the wood floor .
She squawked as I moved her back onto the bed .
“Everything okay up there?” my sister called. She must have been hovering at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me to fuck up .
“Yup! All set!” Except I’d thought the baby might know better than to dive to her own doom . My heart was pounding from the near miss. I could just picture handing Nicole back to Zara with a giant bruise on her face and a possible concussion .
Note to self—don’t take your eyes off the kid .
Tucking in my shirt in record time, I scooped Nicole off the bed. “Try not to scare me like that again,” I whispered. “At least not until I figure out what the hell I’m doing .”
“Ba-bah-de-da,” she said, as I carried her into the bathroom to do the worst one-handed tooth-brushing job ever. It was a mystery to me how Zara ever got anything done at all. Single moms must develop some kind of ninja skills just to get through the day .
By the time I carried her downstairs, Zara had texted to say that the ceremony was over and that I could bring the baby to Shipley Farm. “She says her mother will be there shortly,” Bess added. Then she looked up from my phone, and her face lit up. “Holy cow. You are hilarious .”
“What?” I looked down at myself, wondering what I’d done .
“You’re twinsies! I need a picture. Stand on the porch.” She snapped her fingers .
When I looked at Nicole, I saw what she meant. The pattern on the baby’s blue checkered dress was awfully similar to the one on my blue and green checked shirt .
“Adorable,” my sister said, aiming her phone at us, as I tried not to roll my eyes .
After the photo, Bess took Nicole out of my arms for one more squeeze. “You are my favorite baby,” she said to Nicole. “Please don’t get much bigger before I find a way to see you again .”
The look on Bess’s face was one I’d never seen before. Pure yearning. She carried the baby to her car seat, strapped her in, and put the wooden bus on the seat beside her .
“You could drive over there with us,” I offered .
Bess shook her head. “You go. Spend a few minutes with Zara. I’ll start dinner with Castro. I told him I’d try out a recipe for peach pie .”
Huh. My sister wasn’t much of a cook. Eating a pie she made might require some diplomacy. “All right. See you in a bit .”
Zara’s car was a piece of shit, I noted as I drove away. It had a hundred and eighty thousand miles on it. But one feature was nice—she had an extra mirror clipped to the rear-view, and when I glanced at it I could see Nicole’s face in the back seat .
Another single-mom innovation .
Finding Shipley Farm was easy. There were a hundred cars lining the otherwise sleepy dirt road. I added Zara’s car to the end of the line and climbed out. “Okay, girlie,” I said to Nicole. “Let’s go find your mommy .”
Nicole smiled so widely that I found myself smiling right along with her. I took stock of both of us. My fly was zipped, and my shirt was tucked in. “You look like a big girl in this dress,” I told Nicole, smoothing it down. “Very appropriate for a wedding .”
I carried her the quarter mile or so up the long driveway, past rows of apple trees not unlike the pear trees on Zara’s family farm. Only this place seemed bigger .
So this was Shipley Farm. It was a nice spread, I had to admit. I wondered what Zara thought about this wedding. If she’d gotten her original wish, it might have been her wedding, right? If Griff hadn’t ended things, she and I would never have had our fling, and Nicole wouldn’t be propped onto my right hip as I approached a wide, oval lawn where guests stood in clusters .
Would an outcome featuring Mrs. Zara Shipley have been better for everyone ?
Ten days ago I would have said yes. But now Nicole was a very real weight on my arm. Bess was deeply in love with the baby, and I had to admit that Zara seemed happy—if not with me, then with life in general .
Besides—nobody had asked me, anyway. I was starting to realize that getting older was just a lengthy exercise in getting schooled on all the ways you weren’t in charge of your own destiny .
The baby wiggled in my arms as we approached the wedding guests. She wanted to get down and run across all that green grass. But I couldn’t give in. There was a cocktail hour in progress. Caterers circled with trays of drinks. I scanned the crowd for Zara, but other women wearing the same exact dress kept fooling my eyes .
Someone pointed at me—a stranger who whispered into his date’s ear. I felt eyes on me, but I didn’t really care .
There was only one person here that I needed to find .