Chapter 6
Knox
Seth might’ve questioned my character last night, but any lingering doubts were apparently superseded today by approximately twenty pounds of baby. He’d readily agreed to let Quincy leave early to help me.
Thank fuck.
A half hour ago, I’d barely known who Quincy was. Now I didn’t have a goddamn clue what I’d do without her.
“This is home,” I said loudly, so Quincy could hear me over the crying in the back seat, as I pulled the SUV into my driveway.
“The Sanderson place,” she said, referring to the elderly woman I’d bought the house from.
“I just moved in. You’ll have to excuse the mess. I’ve got boxes everywhere.”
We both got out and shut our doors. I breathed in the fresh air and appreciated the momentary muffling of the crying. Quincy hadn’t been kidding when she said that bundle smelled toxic. The whole interior of my vehicle would need to be fumigated.
Quincy met me at the door where the car seat and baby were.
She’d taught me how to attach the base and make sure the carrier was secured inside it—also that the baby should face backward. Whoops. She’d explained it was for safety reasons, and that made sense, but it seemed counterintuitive not to be able to see the infant by looking in the rearview mirror.
“Here we go. Brace yourself,” I said as I opened the door. The baby’s face was screwed up in an angry cry, still going at full volume. “How do I get the carrier out?” I had to raise my voice to be heard.
“There’s a release lever on the back, right under where Juniper’s head is,” Quincy said.
I leaned in, nearly choked on the stench, and felt around for the lever. It was easy to find now that I knew it was there. When I lifted it, the carrier loosened and I raised it out.
“Fast learner,” she said with a smile.
“I like to think I’m not stupid, just completely inexperienced.” Truth be told, I’d never felt so incompetent in my life.
I led Quincy to the front door, unlocked it, and let her precede me inside.
She gave a cursory glance around and then turned her attention to the bundle in my hand. “Let’s get her stripped down and washed up. I hope Ava gets here soon.”
“Where do you want to do this?” I asked.
She looked around again and apparently realized the open living, dining, and kitchen area wasn’t the place, as half-unpacked boxes were everywhere.
“Since we don’t have baby wipes, we’ll need some water and a washcloth. Where’s your bathroom?”
“Right there.” I pointed at the first doorway in the hall.
“Do you think you can take her out of the carrier?”
“I think I can manage that,” I said. Surely I could do that.
I set the carrier down on the floor and squatted in front of it as Quincy disappeared into the bathroom. “You’re having a rough day, aren’t you?” I said to the baby as she gulped in a breath between cries.
I’d been absorbed in the immediate panic of what to do with this baby—Juniper—and hadn’t had a real chance to wonder what the fuck Gina was thinking.
Leaving her baby? With me? Whether I was the father or not—and that was a question I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around—you didn’t just drop an infant off and disappear.
There was no more time to ruminate on Gina, not with this squalling, intimidating little bundle depending on me to figure shit out—fast.
I unfastened the straps holding her in, then worked her flailing arms out so I could pick her up. Copying what I’d seen Quincy do, I pulled the baby to my chest, bracing myself against the smell and the noise.
“Shh, it’s gonna be okay,” I said into her ear, even though I wasn’t sure of that at all.
Tense as hell, I kept murmuring into the baby’s ear what I hoped were soothing things. I could hear Quincy in the bathroom, presumably setting things up for Project Clean Juniper, so I stood there and waited for her to tell me what to do next.
And then I felt it…moisture soaking through my shirt. Damn. Somehow she’d peed on me.
“Quincy? I’ve got a bit of a problem.”
My savior popped her pretty blond head out of the bathroom with a questioning expression. “What’s wrong?”
“My shirt’s wet.”
As she walked toward me, her gaze on the infant, Quincy’s eyes widened. “Oooh, no.” She grimaced. “Welcome to blowout city. Wow. You’ve landed right in baptism-by-fire territory.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Trust me, when I woke up this morning, one thought I didn’t have was that I’d get peed on today.”
“Oh, that’s not pee,” she said, holding her hands out for the baby.
I stopped short as her meaning sank in. “This is stench?”
Quincy smiled sympathetically. “Pretty much.”
“Does she not have a diaper on?”
“She does. A blowout is when they poop so much that it literally blows out of the diaper, up their back, sometimes even up their front. They’re disgusting, but they happen.”
I held Juniper, still crying, away from me, toward Quincy, and noted the mustard-brown streaks up and down the front of her formerly white-with-pink-bunnies one-piece outfit.
“Hell,” I finally said.
“You go shower,” Quincy said. “I’ll get her out of this outfit and… You don’t have other clothes for her, do you?”
“She showed up with the clothes on her back, the car seat, and the blanket, which I’m betting is toast now too.”
“Likely.” Quincy held Juniper at eye level, and the baby stared at her between cries.
“You’re gonna need some new outfits, aren’t you, sweet pea?
” Switching from her baby tone to her normal one, she asked me, “Ava said she’d go to Nashville, right?
I don’t know of anyplace in town that has baby clothes.
We can wash these, but she could have another blowout an hour later. ”
Jesus. “I’ll text Ava.”
“Have her bring the diapers and formula here first. Emergency. Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’ll be out to help in five minutes,” I said, texting Ava as I headed toward the master suite on the opposite side of the living room.
I’d pulled my shirt over my head by the time I hit the door to the bathroom and tossed it to the floor, disgusted.
After shutting the door behind me, I set my phone on the counter, stripped down, then started the water, feeling shell-shocked and like the day was surreal.
I was in and out of the shower quickly, though I scrubbed like crazy with soap to get the smell off. I dried and dressed in clean clothes—sweats and a tee because who knew what I’d be getting myself into for the rest of the day.
And then what?
I didn’t have a place for a baby to sleep. I didn’t have a high chair. I didn’t have one bit of confidence that I could even make it through the next hour with an infant, let alone until tomorrow.
Once I was dressed, I hurried back out to Quincy to see what I needed to do next. I found her in the hall bathroom with a naked pink baby in the sink, splashing her hands in the shallow water, no longer screaming.
“You got her quieted down,” I said, grateful but scared she’d tune up again at any moment.
“She loves the water. Don’t you, sweet pea?
” Quincy had a hand around the baby’s middle, supporting her, even though it appeared she could sit on her own.
“This is our third round of clean water. Juniper was a mess. Can you hold on to her for a second while I grab the towels? We’re going to dry her off with one and swaddle her with another until we get diapers, ointment, and clothes. ”
“Swaddle,” I repeated, probably sounding like a moron taking mental notes—because I was.
“I’ll show you how.”
I put my hand around Juniper’s tiny, pudgy torso the way Quincy had.
Quincy stepped to the towel rack near the tub and grabbed the clean towels.
When she returned to the sink, she edged in close so she could reach Juniper, and I caught the scent of Quincy’s hair.
It was sweet, something I couldn’t quite place, but it somehow reminded me of sunshine.
As soon as she had a secure hold on the baby, I stepped back. The bathroom was small enough I couldn’t go far, but I did my best to give her space. I needed every ounce of my focus to go on what the baby needed, not how good Quincy smelled.
She had Juniper dried off in no time, with me watching every move. We moved to the spare bedroom next, where she spread a dry towel on the bed and taught me how to swaddle Juniper into burrito form. Halfway through the process, the crying started again.
“She’s hungry, I’m sure,” Quincy said.
“Ava should be here any minute.”
“Good. You want to pick her up, maybe pace? Sometimes that will help them calm down, although when they’re hungry, not much besides food will settle them.”
I picked up the bundle, the incessant crying skyrocketing my stress level, but at least she smelled clean now.
And who could blame her for screaming her head off?
She was having a hell of a day, one that would likely be formative in her whole life.
You didn’t get deserted by your mother and not come out unscathed.
My chest constricted at that thought. My own mother had done the opposite of Gina and made every effort to make up for me only having one parent.
She’d handled all of this and more. A crying, stinky baby for a couple of hours?
Take that times a million and that was what my mom and all the other single parents out there did to raise children.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to hug my mom one more time and tell her a heartfelt-more-than-ever thank-you. I swallowed hard on the sadness that rolled through me.
It struck me that I was in the position to be for this baby what my mom had been for me. A rock and a provider, at least until I figured out a long-term plan.
“Knock, knock.” Ava’s voice rang out from the living room, and though I didn’t know if I’d ever relax for as long as this baby was in my care, I did breathe out some relief as I strode to the living room with Quincy trailing me.
“The holy saint of baby food is here,” I told Juniper, even though she was hollering too loudly to hear a thing. “I owe you for life,” I told Ava.