Chapter 13 Voss
VOSS
Not that I have much to compare him to, but Axl is a good baby. He doesn’t cry often. He sleeps well. He eats pretty good, too. Dr. Mark says he’s gaining weight like he should be.
For a moment, I stand over his bassinet and stare. I made that. I didn’t do any of the hard work, but still… he came from my genes. He’s my kid. I created him.
The thought makes my chest feel tight and overfull. Not in a sappy way but almost in a concerning way, as if someone is forcing too much air into my lungs and they’re going to burst.
I take several quiet steps backward and drop onto my bed when the backs of my legs hit the edge.
I’m so fucking tired. Even with as good as Axl is, feeding him every three hours is exhausting.
Then there’s changing him, washing him, worrying about whether he’s breathing.
Every little sound that comes out of him can be alarming because I don’t know what it means.
My eyes close. Everything in my body feels heavy right now. I’m so tired. It’s a lot of effort to turn my head to look at the clock. 11:48. I used to stay up later than this. I also got a solid six hours of sleep when I went to bed late. I’m lucky if I get two uninterrupted hours right now.
He’s only three weeks old. The dozens of books I’ve read said that he could become a much worse sleeper. He could turn fussy. He could scream all day, and I’ll never understand why, because he doesn’t even know how to tap the place that hurts.
He could start teething super early, and that could make him miserable. He could just not sleep. Some babies struggle with sleep.
I miss Brek. I’ve barely seen him since Axl’s birth. He visited once when he and his friends stopped by to meet my son, but otherwise, I haven’t seen him. I hate that.
Forcing myself up, I decide I’m going to change that. Right now. God, I feel sluggish. My feet feel like they’re filled with cement. I’m so fucking tired.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks. Now I understand why Uncle Noaz and Briar were always so damn tired. And there were two of them!
I set diapers, a change of clothes, and another blanket at the end of Axl’s bassinet.
Then I gently unlock the wheels and we’re off.
I bought this bassinet because it’s on wheels and therefore easy to move around my room.
It also has a max weight limit almost three times what the average bassinet does.
I kept looking at them, thinking what a waste of money when they can only use it for a month.
The hall is empty when I poke my head out. “Time for your first field trip,” I tell Axl. “Be a good boy, okay?”
I wheel his bed down the hall and stop in front of Brek’s door. For just a second, my chest feels tight, thinking that maybe he’s locked his door again. It’s not like he signed up for a newborn in his room just so I can hold him.
My sigh of relief sounds loud when the door opens easily. Thank fuck. I shut the door silently behind me and give myself a minute to let my eyes adjust. There’s a light on somewhere. As I stroll Axl toward Brek’s bed, I see that he left the bathroom light on.
Brek is spread out on his stomach.
I park Axl near the wall so neither of us trips over him if we climb out of bed. For just a moment, I rest my hand gently over Axl’s chest. Just to feel his breathing. His heartbeat. Is he too cold? Too hot? Is he uncomfortable? Did I wrap him snugly enough?
My god, do these worrying questions ever stop?!
He’s fine. I turn away and strip on my way to Brek’s bed.
For just a moment, I pause and glance back at my son.
Well… he’s a newborn. No matter what happens tonight—and I don’t anticipate anything happening—he’s far too young to remember.
This isn’t a science fiction novel where my boy is a different breed and remembers shit from days after his birth.
Probably.
I climb into Brek’s bed. He jerks awake and looks at me. I get close enough so he can see that it’s just me. Sighing, he drops flat on the bed again. I take that as an invitation that I can join him. He didn’t ask me what the fuck I was doing here. Nor did he tell me to go away.
With my hand on his hip, I pull him toward me. He wiggles and twists until he’s against my chest and I can bury my face in his hair. Brek sighs. I’m nearly asleep when he pulls free. Before I can ask him what’s wrong, he’s facing me, and we’re tangled together chest to chest.
Okay, fine. This is better.
Brek sighs. His fingers move absently over my back. I tangle my fingers in his soft hair.
Once again, I’m almost asleep when he says, “Are you supposed to be in here?”
I’m far too tired to understand what that question means. “Do you want me to leave?”
He shakes his head.
A minute passes before he asks, “Does Lorissa know you’re in here?”
I’m not sure why he’s asking. My brain is sluggish as I think about whether Lor knows I’m in Brek’s room. Probably not. I didn’t announce it. But I don’t think this would be the last place she’d look for me either. She knows we’ve been hanging out. She knows I’ve spent many nights with him.
“Dunno,” I say. “Sleep, Brek. I’m so fucking tired.”
There’s a chance he falls asleep first, but I think it’s me, and I don’t sleep long.
I’m startled awake when someone whispers my name over and over until I nearly jump up from the bed.
My glasses are askew, which speaks to how tired I am.
I haven’t fallen asleep with my glasses on since I was a kid.
However, that means I can see Mary Sue, one of the staff from the kitchen. “Mr. Van Doren,” she whispers. “Voss. I’m so sorry. It’s feeding time.”
I stare at her dumbly. Feeding time? It’s still fucking dark out and I’m not hungry.
She must take pity on me since she holds up Axl’s bottle. Oh. Right. My baby.
I groan, letting my head fall back. I thought I could do this without a nanny, but I don’t think I’m cut out for single dadding.
“Voss,” Isabel says again. “Would you like me to feed him?”
“No, it’s okay,” I say as I struggle to make myself move. She gives me a solid several minutes and doesn’t ask again until it’s clear I’m not moving.
“I promise I won’t leave this room with him,” she says. “I’ll feed him, burp him, change him, and make sure he’s fast asleep. Promise.”
Only because I’m feeling a little sleep drunk do I nod. “Thank you. You’re getting a raise.”
I catch her smile as I roll back over to curl back in Brek’s arms. He holds me close but doesn’t seem to have woken up. Maybe he’s exhausted too.
Once again, I wake up what feels like minutes after I fell asleep. The room is dim. I’m not sure what wakes me until I hear Axl begin to cry again. A sound that is very unfamiliar to Brek, since he jerks awake and sits up.
“Just Axl,” I assure him as I kick my feet from under the covers. “Go back to sleep.”
Brek doesn’t move. I’m not sure he’s entirely awake.
Axl is right where I left him. There’s a sticky note on the back of the bassinet that has a short report with times.
2:35 began feeding.
2:59 finished feeding. Drank all three ounces.
3:13 burped well. Little spit up. No mess.
3:18 changed diaper. Only wet.
3:25 back in bassinet fast asleep.
Mary Sue
I sigh as I rock Axl gently. She needs a fucking bonus at the very least. This is far out of her duties. I kiss the top of Axl’s head and glance at the clock. He finished his last bottle at three. He’s not due until six. The clock beside the bed says there’s still half an hour until feeding.
“Are you hungry now?” I ask quietly as I rub his back. He’s no longer crying. Not even fussing. Hell, I think he fell asleep again. “You just want Daddy, huh? Fine, but we’re going back to bed.”
I climb back into bed with Brek. He immediately curls against me until he feels Axl. Picking his head up, he looks at my newborn for a minute.
“I’m sorry. I should have asked.”
He sighs and tucks his face into my neck. His body curls around me again. Brek doesn’t respond to my words, but I nearly get sappy when he rests his hand on Axl’s back. Holy fuck. God, why do I feel like I can’t catch my breath?
I don’t fall back asleep. Maybe because I’m concerned that the way my heart races will bother Axl.
“Does Lorissa know you’re in here with Axl?” Brek asks. The question sounds familiar. Has he asked that before?
“I don’t know.” Well, that sounds familiar too.
We’ve had this conversation already. Probably when I was barely awake.
“Do you want me to send her a text?” As the question comes out of my mouth, I realize I didn’t bring my phone with me.
I brought my baby and whatever he might need. My needs were not important.
This is parenthood, isn’t it?
“You don’t think she’s going to be upset?” Brek asks.
“Why would she?”
“He’s her baby, right? And you…”
Oh, there’s been some wild confusion here. “Brek, she’s not staying. We’re not together.”
He’s silent for several minutes. “Your dad called you a perfect little family.”
I chuckle, closing my eyes, and turn my face to kiss his head.
“She birthed my son, Brek. She’s always going to be family.
But we’re not together. We were never together.
I brought her home with me because… New York wasn’t safe for her when she couldn’t move around while pregnant like she used to.
The plan was always for her to stay long enough to recover from birth, and then she’d go home, and Axl would stay with me. ”
“Oh,” he says. “So… she’s…”
“She’s not Mom,” I say gently. “She’s been calling herself my oven. It’s kind of funny.”
“You’re not upset about that? That she doesn’t want to be his mom?”
“As someone who had less than an ideal mother, I’m sure.
There’s a common misconception that a child is going to be lacking without a mom and a dad, but that’s bullshit.
Children suffer far more when their parents don’t want to be parents and are forced to anyway.
They suffer far more when parents are present, but they’re shitty parents.
Abusive parents. Drunk parents. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m confident that I’ll be a much better parent than Lorissa because I want to be, and she adamantly doesn’t want to be. ”
Brek kisses my shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make assumptions.”
“Not your fault. You’re a product of the indoctrination of the world around you.”
“Ouch.”
I grin. I pull my arm free, and Brek sits up to let me move. I bring it under him and pull him close. Brek smiles, settling back into my side again. “I’m sorry you thought something changed with Lorissa and me when Axl was born. I should have told you.”
He sighs. “No. I shouldn’t have let my insecurities get the better of me.”
“I agree. And I’m sorry I didn’t ask before bringing Axl in here. I missed you, and I was so damn tired.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” His fingers gently rub along Axl’s back. “Why was he crying? Is he okay?”
“Seems to be fine. Maybe he just wanted to be held; I don’t know. They’re kind of a mystery for a while.”
Brek huffs. “That sounds a little terrifying.”
“A bit,” I agree. “He’s a relatively easy baby, though I try not to say that too often. But yeah. I try not to read the horrors because I imagine I’ll become kind of obsessive about keeping him alive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh no. We’re not talking about it. I feel like it’ll be challenging the universe, and I don’t want that energy out there concerning Axl.”
Brek smiles. “Okay.”
“But yes, it’s a little terrifying. I’ve done many things in my life that have been scary, but holding this little person and knowing that I alone am responsible for his health, safety, and happiness?
Not just that, but there’s greater responsibility too, right?
Like making sure he has a good education, that he doesn’t turn into a shit human being who thinks science isn’t real and believes every bullshit line tyrants and their mindless sheep post online without thinking for himself. ”
Brek laughs. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Mm,” I agree. “Raising a kid comes with so much more than providing clothes and food. These aren’t things you really think about as you’re dropping thousands of dollars for a bunch of shit that he’s going to outgrow in a month.
Most of the shit in his closet and these fancy pieces of furniture,”—I wave at the bassinet—“aren’t going to make it through more than six months of his life before he outgrows them. Kids are money pits.”
He laughs again. This time much louder. It startles Axl, and he whimpers, wiggles. Brek presses his face into my chest. I grin.
A knock on the door has Brek picking his head up. Then he looks at the clock with a frown.
“It’s okay. Just someone from the kitchen bringing me a bottle for Axl.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, the door opens. Mallory smiles when she sees we’re awake. She crosses the room and hands me a bottle.
“Thank you,” I tell her and sit so I can adjust Axl to eat. Mallory brings me the spit cloth from his bassinet before leaving us. “Another case in point,” I say as I convince Axl to wake up to eat. “I have a house full of help. Imagine being an actual single parent without help.”
Brek shakes his head. “No, thanks. Those people are a lot stronger than I am. I think I’d have a breakdown. I can’t take care of myself on a good day.”
“Yeah, I get that. There was a very surreal moment when I was checking out online with a purchase of over $8,000 of baby shit and thinking to myself, what would I do if I were concerned about money? How does the rest of the world afford this shit? I’ve never taken my privilege for granted, and this is my privilege talking, but I’ve never felt it so potently than in that moment when I was buying shit to provide for my child.
There are people who don’t make that much in three months! How do they raise kids?”
Brek doesn’t answer, and I remember he also came from a relatively wealthy family. Not a family like mine, where he was treated well, but money wasn’t a concern for him. His family was in the upper class of society.
We sit in silence while Axl slowly drinks his bottle of hospital provided breast milk as I think of another thing I’m responsible for teaching my kid—not to be an entitled dick because he comes from money.