Chapter Thirty-Eight
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Thanks so much, everything looks great. We’ll be in touch,” Anton says as we duck out the door of Orchard School For Early Childhood, the facility where Paloma now attends daycare.
“Marisol’s instincts continue to impress. That was the best one yet,” I say, clutching a few brochures on our way down the sidewalk. This was the fourth tour of the fourth daycare facility on our list, and while most of them have seemed like perfectly adequate childcare facilities to my untrained eye, this one left me with a slightly shinier overall impression. “The last one was okay. The staff were friendlier, at least. But this one had a nice atmosphere, and the whole place felt like a well-oiled machine.”
“Mmm hmm.” Anton nods, holding my hand firmly in his as we walk back to my new Honda through the slushy parking lot. I turn to study him. He asked a lot of questions on some of the previous tours, but I realize now he’s been mostly silent the last hour.
“I guess the waitlist is sort of an issue.” I run my free hand over my almost five-month bump. “If it’s really more than a year, we’d have to figure that out. Or I guess look into hiring a nanny in between...”
Anton doesn’t say anything, just climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the car .
“Everything okay?” I ask, fastening my seatbelt carefully under my stomach. I still get a little wigged out every time we have to travel in a car.
He turns to look at me thoughtfully. “Can I talk you into a milkshake?”
We wind up at a little burger place I read about near Wash Park that spins peanut butter cookie shakes you have to eat with a spoon, they’re so loaded with big pieces of cookie and peanut butter cups. Anton says it’s not a shake if you can’t drink it, but he’s obviously wrong.
Christmas music plays overhead and everything is decorated for the holidays, just as it was at the school. The last four weeks feel like they’ve flown by.
As we wait for our food, I set the school brochures aside and pull up the app where I’ve been tracking all the stuff like childcare options, baby names, and must-have baby supplies. I’m making a few notes on the Orchard School, when Anton clears his throat.
“Do you remember me telling you Carl was interesting in opening up a branch office in Colorado Springs?”
I set my phone aside, giving him my full attention. “Oh, yeah. Wasn’t that ages ago? Is it still happening?”
“He first brought it up last summer. I don’t think we’ve talked about it since. Anyway, things are starting to happen with it. Carl is partnering with a colleague down there, but he wants someone to travel between the two offices for continuity.”
I raise my brows. “And that would be you, I presume? It sounds like a cool opportunity.”
Everything about Anton’s posture says the opposite, but he nods. “Yeah, it is. We’d get to improve the customer experience, expand what we offer...” He pauses as our milkshakes arrive and I reach for my spoon. “Anyway, if I’m on board, Carl will make me a junior partner.”
I suck in a breath and clap my hands together. “Anton! That’s amazing!”
He stirs his shake with his useless straw.
“It could be,” he says. “But it would mean I’d be gone a lot. Like, upwards of twenty-five percent of my time could be spent in the Springs. And there might be stretches of time I’d need to just stay down there. Like, so much Carl is looking at buying a company condo.”
I sit back in my seat as his point finally sinks in. “Oh. I see.”
He glances up at me.
“I mean... if we figure out childcare, it would be workable. But it does change things...” I stir my shake, trying to wrap my brain around this shift in our future. It sounds like I’d be on my own some of the time, getting the baby to and from daycare. And some overnights. And if anything went wrong, there’s a chance I’d be dealing with that solo, too...
“When would all of this begin?” I ask.
He exhales, pushing his shake aside. “They think the new branch could be off the ground by May.”
“Wow, okay.” I rest my spoon on my napkin. I’m due May sixteenth. “Um, maybe a nanny would be a better option for us, then. There would be fewer logistics. Maybe I could even get help in the evenings?—”
“I don’t want that, Lydia.” Anton’s voice is sharp, though he looks like he’s going to be sick. “I don’t want you to have to hire someone to fill in for me—I want to be there. If you’re up in the middle of the night taking care of our child, I want to be able to help.” He picks up the school brochures, then sets them down with a curled lip. “I don’t love the idea of our kid being with strangers during the day, but if we’re not even there to be parents at night...?”
I frown, shaking my head. “I know, but I don’t see any other way.”
He shifts uncomfortably, wiping up a drip of ice cream with his napkin. “There are different ways people approach this. Celia, for example...”
My eyes widen, my pulse hammering suddenly in my forehead. Is he really going to pull this on me now? “No. We discussed this. I’m sorry, I just can’t?—”
“Not you, Lydia.” He takes my hand in both of his, looking right into my eyes. “What if I stay home?”
My lips part. “You?”
“I—I’ve been thinking about it a while. I know it’s not the norm for dads, but fuck that. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Our finances will be tighter, but they would be anyway, paying for childcare. And I could probably do some consulting on the side for extra cash.”
I blink at him, trying to jump my brain out of its lag. First he was going to be junior partner, now he wants to quit his job?
“It wouldn’t have to be forever. We could still put ourselves on a waitlist for this place and see how it goes.” He gestures to the brochure. “But I want to be home with our baby, Lydia. I want to be around to be their dad the way my mom was around for me.”
At the mention of his mother, the corners of my eyes prick with tears. It’s been five months since she passed away, and this first holiday season already feels heavy with her truly gone. I squeeze his hands and lean toward him.
“I couldn’t do it—stay home,” I say truthfully. “But if this is really what you want...”
He nods without hesitation. “We had a meeting about it the other day, and it was all I could think about. I just can’t put my whole heart into a job if it means not being there for you, and never getting to see our family.”
I glance at the brochure and blow out a breath. “Well, maybe I can stop worrying about tuition. And I still haven’t touched that money from Henry, so we would have that cushion.”
“I spent the past week going over our budget,” he says, shifting into his no-nonsense finance tone. “Healthcare will be one of our biggest costs, but we can make it work. And Lydia, you should be so proud—the Pooches are already doing well enough to keep us afloat and comfortable. Anything extra I bring in on the side will just make things easier.”
I smile, raising a brow. “Maybe I’ll push Henry harder on employee health insurance.”
He chuckles. “We won’t be surviving on ramen noodles. But if things start to feel hard, I can always go back to work. Even if it’s to a different firm.”
I study him more closely, my heart warming when I register the true joy in his face. He wants this—maybe he needs this. Briefly, I imagine Anton at home, cuddling our little infant. Changing their diapers, feeding them, taking them out in a stroller. And of course, that very domestic modern male image somehow lights a fire inside me, sending out waves of arousal into my nipples and between my legs. Because this is what my hormones do to me now. I’ve gone from having to concentrate so hard to even have sex, to it taking all my focus just to avoid thinking about it.
“Well.” I let out a breath and look down, resting my hands on my still-small bump to divert my attention. “I was okay with daycare because it would allow me to keep doing the things I want. But if being home with our baby is what you want, and it makes sense, then I really can’t argue.”
Anton’s eyes glitter, and the way he smiles really does remind me of his mother. He picks up his milkshake glass and holds it out until I pick up mine to clink against it.
“To the best thing for all three of us.”