Chapter 12 – Ink
INK
When I got home, I parked my bike and walked over to Dice and Daphne’s.
It was close to London’s bedtime, so I lightly tapped on the back door before letting myself in.
“Hello,” I said quietly as I entered the kitchen.
Then I heard London crying from down the hall.
Before I could take another step in that direction, Diablo appeared in front of me like the little devil I knew he could be.
I’d grown to really like him, but I can admit that he scared the shit out of me when I first met him.
I swear, for the first few weeks, he’d show his teeth the second Daphne turned away, like he was taunting me.
But somewhere along the way, he figured out that Dice and I would protect Daphne the same way he did.
“It’s just me,” I said and reached out to pet his head.
“What’s wrong with little London?” I asked.
Diablo snorted, followed by a huff, before he plopped down on his bed beside the couch.
“Daph!” I called. “You need some help?”
She appeared in the hallway and hurried in my direction with a very upset London in her arms. “Yes! Take her,” she said and handed her screaming, and somewhat sticky, daughter to me. “I’ll be right back.”
“Why is she sticky?” I asked as Daphne ran back down the hall. London let out a loud wail and tried to burrow her head into my shirt. “What’s the matter, sweet girl? I’ve never seen you so upset.” The little whimper that came from her broke my heart.
Daphne reappeared moments later with her arms full of baby shit that she dumped onto the kitchen table. “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“I think she might be sick. She fell asleep earlier than usual and woke up crying. At first, I thought it might be her teeth, but then she threw up. I got her cleaned up and gave her some medicine, but she threw that up too, which is why she’s sticky. Sorry,” Daphne grimaced.
“I can handle a little baby vomit. Now, if she shits on me, that’s a different story,” I joked. “What do you need me to do?”
“Can you hold her for a minute while I run some water in the sink? I’m going to give her a quick bath and then see if I can get some medicine in her. Does she feel hot to you?” she asked while she zipped around the kitchen.
I gently placed my hand on London’s cheek and moved it to the part of her forehead not smushed against my cut. She was still sniffling and whimpering, but she wasn’t full-blown crying, so I didn’t want to disturb her if I didn’t have to. “Yeah, she feels hot to me.”
“Hot? Or warm?”
“She feels like she has a fever.”
“Crap. Okay. Let me grab the thermometer.”
When Daphne ran back into the kitchen, I placed one hand on her shoulder. “Take a breath, mama. You’ve got this, and I’m not going anywhere until Dice gets home.”
Daphne burst into tears. “She’s never been sick before,” she cried. “I don’t like that I can’t fix it.”
“But you are fixing it. You’re doing everything you’re supposed to be doing. Now, quit crying and wash your daughter before she permanently adheres to me with her stickiness.”
Daphne snorted and laughed at the same time, causing her to blow a snot bubble out of one nostril. She squeaked and quickly grabbed a paper towel. “If you tell anyone about—”
“About your secret talent?” I finished for her. “Come on, Daph. All the kids will love your new party trick.”
“No,” she said and pointed her finger at me. “No.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “What are we doing with Princess Sticky?”
“Let me have her. Can you put the duck in the sink while I check her temperature?” she asked.
“Uh, sure. What does the duck do?” I asked as I took the duck over to the sink and dropped it into the water. “Oh, is this a thermometer?”
“Yeah,” Daphne said distractedly. “It measures the water temperature and will light up to let you know if it’s too hot or too cold. Red for too hot and green for too cold.”
“Really? Seems like they would have used blue for too cold and green for just right,” I said.
“That’s almost exactly what Dice said,” she laughed. Daphne’s laughter was cut off by the most thunderous of baby farts. The following seconds were total chaos. London wailed, Daphne screamed, and the kitchen filled with a horrific odor.
I turned from the sink, torn between laughing and puking. Daphne had one hand on London to keep her in place on the table while the rest of her body was as far away from her daughter as she could get. Why? Because London had blasted Daphne with a stream of baby diarrhea.
“I don’t know what to do!” Daphne cried.
I walked over to the table and carefully picked up London, holding her at arm’s length. “I’ll deal with biohazard number one while you take care of biohazard number two.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t walk through the house like this,” Daphne said and started extracting herself from her shit-covered pants.
There I was, holding London away from my body as the remnants of her explosion dripped off her legs while Daphne stepped out of her destroyed pants, both of them crying. And that’s when Dice walked in.
“What is going on in here?” he asked, walking toward me.
“Dude, I’d move if I were you. You’re in the hot zone.”
He looked between London and Daphne, clearly not knowing what to do. “Help Daphne while I dunk her in the sink.”
“Wait! You need the duck.”
“I’ve got the duck,” I said and carefully lowered London into the water.
Picking up the tiny washcloth Daphne placed on the counter, I squeezed some baby soap onto it and quickly washed London.
Dice and Daphne were still cleaning up the aftermath when I finished, so I put a diaper underneath her and wrapped her in a towel to keep her warm until they were ready to take over.
“Uh, I’m not trying to rush you guys, but I think she’s about to fall asleep.
Do you have a sleeper or something you want me to put her in? ”
“I’ll take her,” Daphne said and reached for her daughter.
I scrunched my nose and stepped away from her. “Not until you wash your hands. I won’t have you messing up my hard work.”
Daphne rolled her eyes but went to the sink and washed her hands while Dice tried to stifle his laughter.
“Thank you,” I said when she returned. “We take hygiene very seriously, don’t we, little rocket?”
Daphne groaned as she took London from me.
“What?” I asked. “Too soon?”
“Yes. Until I forget what her warm shit on my legs feels like, it will be too soon.”
Dice made a gagging sound, and I shook my finger at him. “You weren’t here to see it in real time, so you don’t get to gag.”
“You didn’t see it either,” Daphne pointed out.
“No, but I heard it and smelled it. On that note, how in the bloody hell did something so little produce that much of something so wretched? I’m seriously asking. That was a lot of poo she sprayed on you.”
Dice was chuckling in the kitchen while Daphne was shaking with silent laughter, which is what I wanted. Sometimes a little humor was all that was needed to make a stressful situation bearable.
“All right,” I said. “My work here is done.”
“Hold up. You don’t usually come over this late anymore. Did you need something?” Daphne asked.
“Oh, I’d just gotten home from Presley’s and wanted to see how Macy was.”
“She’s doing okay, all things considered. She’s going to be sore for the next few days,” Dice said.
“Presley said you had a somewhat cryptic conversation with her at the hospital today and asked me what you meant. I assumed you were referring to the little wanker we disarmed at the diner last year, and that she might be a target if she’s been seen with me.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Why? What did she think I meant?” he asked, sounding worried.
“She didn’t have a clue what you meant. I explained what I thought, but I wanted to check with you and make sure I was right.”
Daphne laughed. “You two practically share the same brain. Why was there any doubt?”
“No one asked you, poopy pants,” I teased.
Daphne lifted London into the air and aimed her rear end toward me. “Careful, I’m armed and dangerous.”
“I’ve seen the damage she can do. I’m out,” I said and headed for the door. “Seriously though, call me if you need something. I don’t care what time it is.”
“Thanks, man.”
As I walked into my empty house, I realized that the chaos I’d just experienced was far better than the silence that greeted me.