Chapter 3
When Dot awoke an hour and a half later, she made sure everyone in the house knew she was there.
All was quiet besides the soft hiss coming from the oven, but the silence was pierced by an ear-splitting scream.
If Callie hadn’t heard the sound on many occasions as a young mother, she would’ve been worried.
In fact, Sasha did think something was wrong.
Less than a minute after the baby started wailing, Sasha came running down the stairs with her little one cradled in her arms. “Uh—Mrs. Ward?!”
“In the kitchen, sweetie!” Callie called back, but she rushed around the corner anyway to meet the girl. “What’s the matter?”
“She’s so pink!” Sasha said, her voice trembling. “Look!” She showed Callie her baby’s reddened face. “Is she sick?”
Callie shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She reached for the baby. “May I?”
Sasha nodded, handing the child over without any of the hesitation she had before.
Sasha’s hands were shaking with fear. Callie could feel the heat radiating off the baby from the moment she took Dot into her arms. She started to unravel the first layer of wrappings around the child, only to find that she was dressed in a wool onesie underneath and that her feet were double layered with socks.
“She’s overheating.” Callie took the baby over to the couch and started to undress her.
Dot squealed and fought against Callie’s efforts as best she could, but once the onesie was off and the baby was simply laying there in her diaper, she calmed down.
“There you go.” Callie smiled, rubbing the baby's fingers with her thumb. “All better. You were just getting a little too hot, weren’t you?”
Sasha stared at the child with soft, glossy eyes. “I didn’t—” Her bottom lip trembled. “I didn’t even think—At the shelter, it’s always so cold…”
Callie reached for Sasha’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. It makes perfect sense that your instinct was to wrap her up.
Babies do get cold easily and you’ve been living in circumstances where keeping her bundled up was the right move.
But now, you’re in a house that doesn’t have a draft.
” She chuckled. “Not to mention, I cranked the heat up last night when I heard we might be getting some frost. I might’ve gone a bit overboard. See—it’s partially my fault too.”
When Dot stopped crying, and Callie was able to finally see her striking blue eyes that complemented those dark curls; she looked like a painting.
“There’s no need for you to worry now.” Callie reassured Sasha and gently brushed her finger over the baby’s cheek.
“She’s just fine. Maybe a little hungry, but other than that, she’ll be alright. ”
“I’ll get the formula. And her bottle,” Sasha said, rushing back to the room. When she returned a few seconds later, she still looked pale and frazzled. Callie took the baby into her arms and stood up, facing Sasha.
“When my first child was just a year old,” she said as she rocked on her feet, falling into a natural rhythm that relaxed the baby, “he fell out of the swing at the park. I thought he was old enough to sit up and not wobble around, but—well, I don’t really know what happened.
One moment he was laughing in the swing, and then the next he had somehow gotten his legs out of the holes and toppled down into the wood chips.
To this day, I still don’t even know how Taylor slipped out of the seat, but he did, and he fell face forward. ”
Sasha gasped. “Was he okay?!”
“He was fine,” Callie answered with a laugh.
“He cried for a few seconds, until David grabbed him and blew a raspberry into his belly, and then he was all smiles. We took him to urgent care just to make sure, but they said he was alright. Babies are more durable than you think. But I wasn’t okay.
I felt guilty for weeks. I thought I was the worst mother in the world.
” She tapped her chest. “Even telling you the story now, my heart hurts a little.”
A sad smile formed on Sasha’s lips, tears welling in her eyes as she folded her fingers around her baby’s small hand.
Dot leaned forward, requesting to be handed over to her mother, and Callie obliged.
Sasha seemed an expert at balancing her child with one arm and holding multiple items in her other hand.
Callie’s heart broke just a little bit, thinking about how much this young woman had to take on all alone.
Sasha hugged her daughter close. “It’s just... she’s everything... And I—I don’t wanna mess up...”
“I understand,” Callie said. “That’s perfectly natural. In fact, I’d be worried if you didn’t feel that way now that you’re a mom. What I’m trying to say is... we all make mistakes sometimes, but the key is keeping your head up and moving on. Dot’s fine now. That's what matters, right?”
Closing her eyes Sasha drew in a deep breath and pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s head. “Yeah... you’re right.” She smiled and turned to Callie, her voice breaking a little as she spoke. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Callie said, placing a reassuring hand on Sasha’s arm, “I mean it.”
Sasha replied with a small, grateful nod. After a pause, Sasha breathed in deeply and her eyes widened. “Mmm, something smells good!”
“Oh!” Callie’s eyes widened. “I have to check on the chicken!” Rushing back to the kitchen, she opened the oven and grabbed her mitts, rescuing the chicken in time.
It was well toasted on the top but not burnt.
After setting it down on the counter, she got to work throwing the veggies in for a few minutes.
“Woah! Didn’t know I’d be staying with a chef,” Sasha noted as she meandered into the kitchen.
Callie chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not. I just wanted to make something special for your first night. Make it feel like home.”
A soft, grateful smile formed on Sasha’s lips.
“You could’ve just made frozen fish sticks and I’d be happy.
.. anything would be better than what I’ve had lately.
..” She paused, gently brushing her thumb over the baby’s head.
“So, thanks. It means a lot.” She then moved to set Dot in the little plush playpen David had brought out of storage.
Heading back into the kitchen, Sasha began preparing a bottle for the baby.
As she moved to microwave the cheap plastic bottle, Callie made a noise at the back of her throat almost involuntarily.
Sasha stopped her work and turned to Callie, blinking. “Oh—nothing.” Callie shook her head. “I—I was just going to let you know that we have some glass bottles in the cupboard if you’d like one.”
Sasha’s brow furrowed and she chuckled. “You’re saying to give her a glass bottle? Uh... I don’t want her to break your stuff.”
“Right, no. I—it might sound a little weird, but they’re made for babies, so they’re pretty durable. Plus, I bought the best ones I could find online.”
Sasha tilted her head. “Are the glass ones better?”
“Um—well—” Callie stared down at the chicken and bit her lip, plastering on a smile before she met the girl’s gaze again.
She didn’t want to make Sasha feel like she’d messed up again, so she tried to be delicate.
“I don’t really know if it’s true or not.
It could just be one of those things you read on the internet.
” She laughed nervously. “Or maybe they’re just trying to make us afraid of plastic, so we buy more glass ones.
Anyway, I just saw somewhere that glass is supposed to be healthier, that’s all. ”
Sasha slowly set the plastic bottle down onto the counter, her eyes searching Callie’s expression. “Are the plastic ones bad for her?”
“No!” Callie waved her hands. “No, not at all. It’s like—hmm.
” She sucked air through her teeth, silently cursing herself for starting this conversation.
She should’ve minded her own business and let Sasha use whatever bottle she wanted.
When her kids were young, she’d also used plastic bottles—it couldn’t be that bad.
“It’s not that the plastic ones are harming her.
.. I don’t think... It’s—it’s just that if you have the glass ones, those are supposed to be… better.”
“Because of microplastics?”
“And other chemicals...” Her eyes darted quickly for a moment, but she tried to cover up her anxiety with an even bigger smile.
“Besides, they’re easier to clean. That's what I read on this one blog, anyway.” Callie fidgeted with her thumbs, searching for the right words.
While plastic bottles weren’t the end of the world and she didn’t mean to judge Sasha for using them—she’d already purchased the ones that were proven to be safer.
Moreover, since she’d already dug herself into a hole, it seemed too late to pull back.
“Here, let me make the bottle. How about you have a seat and relax.”
Sasha looked over at the baby, who was happily sitting in her playpen, watching the adults talk. “Okay,” she said, sliding onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Thanks for getting the other kind. They probably weren’t cheap.”
“They were on sale,” Callie lied, as she poured the milk from the plastic bottle into the glass one. Next, she grabbed a pot, filled it with water, and turned on the burner.
Sasha leaned forward on her elbows. “So, is that the better way to heat up a bottle?”
“Huh?” Callie chuckled. “Oh, no. This is just the way I know how. I was worried I’d make it too hot in the microwave, not sure if its better. If anything, it takes longer.” She smiled over her shoulder. “But if Dot starts fussing, I’ll switch to the faster method.”
“She doesn’t really fuss a lot,” Sasha replied. “That’s why I was so worried earlier, I thought something really serious was going on.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I thought— well, I don’t even wanna say it, actually.”
Callie nodded. “It’s scary, when they cry like that.”
Sasha let out a weary sigh. “That’s for sure.”