3. Bailey
“Bay-wee. Wake up.”Sticky hands patted my cheek.
I tucked my face under my blanket. Someone giggled in my ear.
“I up, Bay-wee.” Little hands tugged at the blanket.
Still tired, I lifted the blanket, grabbed my two-and-a-half-year-old brother Preston, and hauled him onto my bed. He immediately snuggled into the curve of my body, laying still for all of three seconds.
It was a fantastic three seconds.
“Press, just chill, buddy.” I tried to hold his squirmy little body still, but he wasn’t having it. He rolled in front of me, twisting my blankets until he’d exposedmy back to the cool air of my bedroom.
“I hungwy.” Preston placed one hand on each of my cheeks, forcibly turning my face to meet his. I still hadn’t opened my eyes. A small hand deserted my cheek to pry one eye open. I complied rather than get poked.
“Is Mom awake, bud?” My voice was scratchy. What time was it? Late enough the sun streamed through my windows. Why hadn’t I pulled the curtains before getting into bed?
“Mommy say get up.”
Mom was definitely awake. Preston being awake wasn’t always a dead giveaway. Sometimes he came into my room before going into hers.
“Is the baby awake?” Preston wasn’t the youngest. My parents divorced when I was little. Mom remarried when I was five. It took her and my stepdad another three years to start their own little family. Stella had just turned ten. Benson, seven. Preston would be three soon, and the baby, Delia, was barely a month old.
Preston nodded. “Dewia eating.”
Delia still didn’t sleep at night. My sweet-tempered and nurturing mother had turned into a sleep-deprived zombie with a short temper over the last few weeks. I didn’t blame her. But the woman was barely hanging on by a thread, so I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and threw back the blankets. I could at least make Press some breakfast to helpout.
It was only eight-thirty, and I was dying to crawl back into my bed, but when I saw my mom half-prone on the couch, Delia asleep on her shoulder, I knew I was in for a long day of babysitting.
I poked Mom’s shoulder. “Hey, go back to bed. I’ll watch Preston.” Stella wasn’t home. She’d had a sleepover at her friend’s house. When I passed Benson’s room on my way downstairs, I noticed him watching Netflix on his tablet. He’d be fine until his stomach started growling.
“Hmm.” Mom’s eyes fluttered a few times before focusing. She glanced at Delia sleeping on her shoulder and groaned. “I hope this little one figures out day and night sooner rather than later.” Delia was still sleeping all day and staying awake most of the night.
“Want me to take her?” I secretly hoped she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. I could handle Preston and the baby at the same time,but it wasn’t easy.
Mom shook her head. “No, I’ll take her back to my room. I just need a couple of hours to be human again. Thanks, Bailey. I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll feed Preston and cat-nap on the couch while he watches cartoons.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Gingerly, she rose from the couch, trying not to rouse the sleeping tyrant on her shoulder. Delia was adorable but still a stinker. “I heard you coming in this morning, B.”
I cringed. “Mom, I’m sorry. We were gonna play games, but Dallin—”
“Fell asleep,” she interrupted. She knew my friends well.
“Yeah.”
“Bailey, I’m not blind—”
“Mom, I swear it’s not like that. I’m not stupid—” I interrupted her this time, but she wasn’t finished.
“I know you aren’t. But stupid and na?ve are completelydifferent things.” She paused, letting her words sink in. And they did. I couldn’t help thinking she was wrong. I wasn’t na?ve. I knew things would never change between Jamie and me.
I tried to deny her words, but Mom lifted her hand, the one not supporting the teeny life perched on her chest.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, hon. I haven’t given birth to five kids and not figured out a few things about the birds and the bees.”
“Ew, Mom—” I did not want to think about that.
“I’m serious, Bailey.” She wasn’t going to be put off. “I know you have feelings for Jamie.” Her voice rose, cutting off my pointless denials. Delia squirmed. Mom swayed where she stood and patted the baby’s back. “Just because Jamie is clueless about your feelings doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of screwing up. I don’t want him to take advantage of you. I know he has a reputation.”
“How do you know that?” She did know everything. It was like mom super powers or something.
“I have my ways. Just be careful.”
“Oh, my gosh, Mom. It is so not like that.” My cheeks burned. “The last thing I want to deal with right now is...this.” I gestured toward Delia and Preston, whoclung to the bottom of her fluffy robe.
“Oh, my gosh, Bailey. I wasn’t talking about that.” Her brow wrinkled with genuine concern, and she frowned at me. “But now I am.”
Yikes. How did I get myself into these situations? “It’s. Not. Like. That!”
Mom’s sigh was filled with long-suffering. “Look, kiddo, I was talking about you getting hurt.” She glared again. “Not getting pregnant. I’m worried you will get your feelings hurt.”
“Okay, okay, jeez.” I pulled my hair out of my face, stalling for time. I didn’t want to discuss my heart with my mother, either. “I don’t want to get my heart broken.” It happened anyway. All the time, especially at times like last night when I knew Jamie had gone into the woods to make out with someone.
Mom’s expression softened. It onlyaccentuated her exhaustion. It was nice to know she could still worry about me when she already had so much on her plate.
“I know, honey.” She tucked a lock of my auburn hair behind my ear. “Thanks for helping with the kids. I only need an houror so. Then I’ll get up and start on some laundry. It’s piling up in there.”
She wasn’t kidding. The laundry room floor had disappeared sometime mid-week. I’d start in there after getting Preston some breakfast. So much for cat-napping on the sofa.
Mom had made it halfway to her room when Preston spilled Dad’s half-full Dr. Pepper he’d left on the coffee table on the carpet.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control,” I mumbled under my breath as I headed into the laundry room for a dirty towel to clean up the mess. It was gonna be a long day.
JAMIE
“Everyone’s goingto Sam’s lake house tonight. You in?” I asked, lying on Bailey’s bed. She was in her closet folding and hanging her laundry while I played Candy Crush on my phone. “Bales?”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of tired.”
Yeah, the bags under her eyes kinda gave that away. I felt terrible for Bailey. She had a lot going on at home.
The house had been sparklingclean when I walked in about an hour ago. I didn’t think Bailey’s mom had left her room at all. That meant Bailey had spent all day cleaning while I slept in my spotless basement apartment. And if the delicious smell coming up the stairs from the kitchen was any indication, she’d started dinner, too.
“Come on, don’t you want to get out of here for a while?” I would if I were in her shoes. Kids were great and everything. Benson and Preston, Bailey’s little brothers, could be a lot of fun. But they wore me out. I was always glad to escape to my quiet house after playing with them. The only break Bailey got was when she left thehouse. I was determined to drag her out, kicking and screaming if I had to.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure I want to go to a party.” She stuffed a bunch of rolled-up socks into a drawer.
“It’s not a party per se. It’s casual. You can chill on the pier all you want.” It was totally a party, a last-minute, awesome attempt to one-up Seth’s bonfireas the last party of summer, but I played it down, hoping she’d agree.
“If there’s alcohol, music, and teenagers, it’s a party, Barnes.”
She had me there. “What else are we going to do?”
“Watch a movie? Eat popcorn? Sleep?” She sounded more hopeful with each suggestion.
“That’s what lazy Sundays are for. Saturday nights are for parties. Er, get-togethers.” I cringed.
Finally done with her laundry, Bailey fell beside me on her queen-sized bed. As the oldest, she had her own room with the big bed her grandparents used when visiting. “Is Dallin going?”
Preston chose that moment to walk into the room. “Hi, Jamie!” he yelled, jumping up on the bed and pouncing on my gut. I caught him in a headlock and tickled his little belly.
I turned to Bailey. “Is Preston the cutest kid on the planet?” I asked in answer to her question about Dallin.
She grinned. “Yes, he is.” Reaching for her little brother’s feet, she held them to save my future children as I tickle-tortured him. Preston squealed and giggled and tried to squirm away from us.
When Preston was all out of breath from laughing, I gave the kid a break. His face was red and sweaty, but he had a huge smile, too. Bailey stood up and began straightening her already perfect room. I lifted Preston Superman-style above me on the bed. It was a game we played a lot. Preston loved it.
“You in, Bales?” I asked, not giving up on the party idea. “It’ll be fun.”