CHAPTER 18 #3
It’s not until this moment that anxiety hits.
Carefully, I lay Hallie out on the small mattress resting on top.
She greets me with a soft smile and lets out a nonsensical word.
Then she proceeds to wiggle out of the towel she’s wrapped in.
I stand close so she can’t fall off and reach for one of the diapers from the pile off to the side.
I stare at it for longer than necessary. I’m not dumb. I know how this works. But putting a diaper on a real, live, wiggling child makes it somehow like an experiment I’m trying to navigate without any actual instructions as to how to go about it.
I turn back and plead with Bodie, “A little help.” He’s running his hands over Tanner’s wet curls as Tanner proceeds to yank toys out of his wooden, ornate toybox and toss them to the floor. The box is dark wood and stained. It looks like something you’d see on a pirate ship. It’s beautiful.
Bodie stands next to me. He smiles at Hallie and tickles her. This does not help my anxiety at all because, if anything, she becomes more wriggly. When the tickling stops, Bodie looks at me. His blue-eyed gaze pings from me to the diaper, to Hallie, back to the diaper, and then back to me.
Amusement dances over his face. Those damn dimples make an appearance, though he tries to stifle his grin.
“Shut up,” I snap.
He meshes his lips together, but he can’t hide that he’s getting a kick out of this. I try to pass him the diaper. He holds up his hands and takes a step back.
“She’s your baby,” I insist.
“Yes, but you’re my helper.”
“Bodie.”
Tanner climbs up on top of a chair beside the changing table. “Mama calls him Weese.”
I force a smile at Bodie—or Reese, or Weese, or whatever this asshole’s name is—while he grins at me like a fool. I open the tabs of the diaper, lift Hallie’s legs, and slide one side underneath.
Bodie laughs. “Other side down.”
I spin the diaper and work it up and over her little tummy, attaching the tabs. She kicks her feet, and the gaps on the sides make it obvious it’s too loose.
Bodie is about to say something, but I hold up a finger. “Not a word.”
He chokes on another laugh.
I tighten the straps a few times until they look to fit just right.
Bodie hands me the PJs.
Fuck. I don’t know how to do this. Like any of it. I honestly thought I might never get the chance to. I push that thought down when emotions rise rapidly to the surface.
Come on, Lily , it’s not hard. And it’s stupid that it stresses me out or has these weird, uncomfortable feelings fluttering in my chest. I don’t even know what the feelings are. They’re simply there and unexpected, maybe even a bit unwelcome.
When I think about it, I realize there’s a burn behind my eyes and nose. I fight it. Of course I do. I do not, under any circumstances, let people see me cry. So I do what comes naturally and click off my feelings until I can psychoanalyze them at another time or forget about this entirely.
Because I don’t even know what’s happening to me right now.
After the pizza arrives, Bodie lays a blanket on the front room floor, and Tanner, Bodie, and I guard our plates from Hallie when she comes close.
I lean against the couch, watch her toddle from one place to the next, and put various toys inside her mouth.
Eventually, Bodie places her in her bouncer.
Tanner sits on the blanket scarfing down a breadstick as he watches an animated movie on the TV. Bodie falls asleep on the couch while I watch the kids do their thing.
I’m not going to lie. I get a tad overwhelmed by the normality of it all. When Tanner wakes his dad, because there’s a question he needs answered and does not care one iota whether Bodie is resting or not, I ask, “You good if I head out?”
He groans as he sits up and combs his hands through his unruly waves. He doesn’t seem entirely with it, but looks around at the kids and then at me with glazed eyes. “Yeah. Sorry, I was beat. Didn’t mean to pass out on you.”
“It’s fine.”
I peel myself off the floor and get to my feet. He pushes off his thighs and stands. After I’ve collected my Coach purse, he walks me to the door.
“Ah, domestic bliss. Am I right?” He laughs at this like it’s a joke.
But I can tell, in a way, it isn’t, and in a way, it is.
He loves it, but it’s also hard. He loves his kids.
But it’s as if some part of it doesn’t work for him, and maybe that’s okay.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe he doesn’t either.
It could be his free spirit that longs for family, but feels hindered by it at times.
I let it go because I don’t know him or this type of life well enough to judge.
I tell Tanner goodbye and smile down at Hallie one last time before I follow him to the door. He thanks me profusely as I step past him and onto the porch.
“Same time tomorrow?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Tomorrow, Taffy’s coming.”
“Thursday then?”
I stop in the middle of the yard and think about it. Turning, I meet his hopeful and desperate expression, which is kind of adorable. I exhale in exasperation, and a blinding smile splits over his face. I hike my purse up over my shoulder and spin my keys around a finger.
“I’ll owe you big time,” he says.
I point at him. “You better.”
I’m just about to slip into my car when he hollers in jest, “This could be you one day.”
The temptation to flip him off comes over me. I give in and hear his deep laugh. I shut my door and let the words I feel spill over my lips. “I’m not so sure about that.”