Six #3
She wasn’t downstairs, which I learned after I moseyed through the kitchen for trail mix and an apple. I realized my twenty-minute power nap had been over two hours, and I felt guilty, hating that I’d left Naomi to step in once again because I was tired.
I headed up the stairs and pushed open the door to Felix’s nursery and choked on my trail mix.
There were three women, with three babies on the floor, all changing diapers. I hacked and coughed, trying to catch my breath so I could ask what the fuck was going on.
“Oh, no! Adam’s wheezing.” That was Keelie. Well, now I knew who was here.
Naomi jumped up and whacked my back. “Are you okay? Adam, can you hear me? Should I call an ambulance?”
“N-no,” I wheezed. “Choked on my snack. Wasn’t expecting so many babies.”
“That’s what we Wildcatters do,” Millie said. I glanced up in time to watch her lips curve into a smile. She shoved her chunky frames up her softly freckled nose and I marveled at how hard Luka Stol had fallen for the bookish girl next door. “We make babies and win championships.”
“Not necessarily in that order,” Keelie said, no doubt not wanting to threaten the current team’s potential Cup run. She was the most superstitious of the CATS, as well as the staunchest supporter.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I meant how did all these kids get here and why were they on the floor of the nursery, but my throat ached too much to push out that many words right now.
“Keelie and Millie were showing me their diapering techniques. You know, to minimize blowouts,” Naomi said.
I dropped to my knees and scooted forward. Sore throat and hydration needs be damned. Our kid hadn’t made it through over two diaper changes before he needed new clothes…and often a bath. “Show me.”
They all laughed, but Keelie walked me through the steps as Millie chased after her now-crawling daughter, Bree, and Naomi brought me a bottle of water.
“The last nanny never showed,” Naomi said, settling back in the rocking chair. She’d picked up Felix and held him while she rocked. His eyes drifted shut.
Bree was into a container of toys and Brooks was batting at the activity pad’s dangling toys, cooing and gurgling in delight.
Having kids in my house was the best. I loved the innocence and sweet sounds and laughter. And I wanted more of this encompassing joy.
Maybe it was because I spent my earliest years in the chaos of a large family—one that no longer functioned as one.
I never saw my other siblings besides Owen; we hadn’t been close, and I wasn’t even sure they knew I played hockey.
Or maybe it was because I was a hockey player, used to the rowdiness of the locker room.
Whatever the reason, I wanted more hangouts here.
Brooks got fussy about half an hour later, so I helped Keelie buckle him into his car seat.
We both knew she didn’t need my help, but Millie had been shooting Naomi surreptitious glances, and I was giving them a minute to talk.
I headed back up the stairs and hovered outside the door—not lurking like a creeper but not stepping into the room.
“Just consider talking to someone,” Millie murmured. “I know it helped me through those early days.” She sighed. “No one can explain how much work a newborn is, really, until you have one.”
“I’m thinking about it,” Naomi said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Millie hugged Naomi and did that mom-rock-sway thing I’d noted Naomi did so too, though completely unconsciously.
Then, with a smile, she picked up her wriggling baby and headed out.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Millie suggested I come to the group—that’s what tomorrow is—for new moms. It’s for support from diapering and feeding to mental health and babysitting. This group is special, though, because once a month, they have a psychologist come in to listen to the mom’s concerns.”
“Do you think you need anything specific?” I asked as I leaned my shoulder against the door.
She pondered the question before meeting my gaze. “Maybe. I mean, I think a nanny’s smart, but I’m just so overwhelmed with the minute-to-minute, day-to-day. That’s what Millie was talking about—how hard it is to have another being constantly need you.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m feeling that, too. Oh! Owen said he knows someone in the area. Ashley something. Owen passed along my contact details, so we can talk to her, too. Soon.”
“I don’t know, Adam. I mean, Paloma has a background in early childhood development, and I trust her with Felix completely. Even so, I didn’t like the candidates we talked to today…”
“Yeah, but Owen knows me—my quirks—many of which Felix shares. What do we have to lose?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I just…” She looked so lost. I hated that look.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
She smiled, and her eyes gleamed. “Besides all the diapers and late-night feedings?”
We both chuckled because there was no way Naomi would ever want me taking over that much of the parenting.
“Yeah, besides all the crap.”
She snickered, then sobered. “I don’t think so. I think some of this I’m just going to figure out.”
“Fair enough.”