Chapter 10
DENNY
I knew that I needed some furniture and clothes for Ty, but now that I’m standing in his nursery at Sally’s house, I’m overwhelmed. I feel absolutely stupid and inept.
“I had no idea babies needed so much,” I murmur.
It’s an entire room!
Of course, it is. Okay, that had been a stupid realization. It’s not like I was ever shoved into the corner of a guest room as a child. I had my own space. My siblings had their own space. Yeah, that was a dumb thing to think.
“There’s more in the kitchen and Sally’s room,” Tyler says gently.
They shouldn’t, but his words feel like a punch. I’m going to guess there’s probably something in every room. Meanwhile, my house is empty. I didn’t even have a fucking sock for Ty. In the six months I knew about him, I hadn’t bought a single thing!
Tyler sets the totes beside the door I’m standing in. “Are you okay?” he asks as he stands straight. He peeks into the nursery with me, probably trying to figure out why I’m staring at nothing and everything. Likely as if it stabbed me in the chest.
“Yeah, I just… there’s a lot of stuff. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Diapers,” Tyler says, and I look at him. He’s trying to keep it light, but I can see the red in his eyes as he struggles not to cry. He looked distraught this morning as we were getting ready to come here.
Had I been a better person, I’d have left him at my house with Ty. Instead, I didn’t want to do this alone. It felt disrespectful. Like I was stealing. I imagined that’s what a neighbor would see if they watched out their windows while I loaded my car with furniture and totes of shit.
Then the cops would come, and I’d have to try defending myself. It was less stressful for me to have Tyler here.
It was not at all a considerate decision for Tyler. I’m becoming well acquainted with guilt. It’s no longer a new friend but an old growth that keeps getting bigger and bigger every day.
“You want to hang with Ty, and I’ll pack up some of his things?” I offer. It’s literally the absolute least I can do, considering I dragged him with me.
Tyler watches me. At first, it’s just us holding gazes. But then, I swear I can feel a strange charge spark between us. Maybe because we’re standing so close.
He blinks and rubs his arm, as if he feels the spark that jumped between us too. “Uh.” He looks back into Ty’s room. “Yeah, but we’ll come in here. I hate that he never got to use the room his mother made for him.”
It’s unfair. Completely and totally unfair. Sally had a life ready for him, and instead, he’s with me. I’m doing nothing but floundering. I’m not sure either of us is staying afloat.
“We should get the side sleeper in Sally’s room before we leave,” Ty says. “Then you can stop sleeping on the couch.” He gives me a bemused look as he walks down the hall.
If I could find something quippy or teasing to say in response, I would.
I think I’m feeling far too weighted with guilt at the unfairness of this situation.
Grabbing the stack of totes, I step into the nursery and muse that at least the sense of unfairness isn’t directed at me.
I’m sure that’ll come. I’ve been nothing but selfish since learning about Ty.
Tyler joins me with Ty as I open the closet and peer inside.
It’s a large walk-in, and it’s stuffed full of things.
Baby clothes hanging, a mountain of diapers, boxes of unopened toys, and things.
I don’t even know what half of them are or what they’re used for.
I only know they’re for babies because there are babies and mothers all over the boxes.
“You look like you’re going to be sick,” Tyler comments.
“I’m realizing that I am a really shitty parent,” I mutter as I pull one of the boxes out. “I don’t even know what this is.”
“It’s to help teach his core muscles and sitting,” Tyler answers. “Not knowing that doesn’t make you a shitty parent. This wasn’t planned. It’s a different headspace.”
“You’re kind to make excuses. Do I need to take it right now?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I set it back on the pile and look at… everything in the closet.
“I’m going to guess you don’t need anything from the closet immediately. That’s why it’s in there. It’s not needed yet.”
“What about the diapers?” I point. They’re stacked against a wall as if they’re tiles. I’m rather impressed that they fit together as well as they do.
“They’re probably too big for Ty. There’s a whole bunch over here.”
I turn to see where he’s pointing. “Why does she have some that won’t fit him yet?”
“She had a baby shower at work.”
I press my lips together as I turn away. That’s something I should have known.
Closing the closet door, I turn to the dresser and open the drawers. Clothes. Thank fuck. He’s been wearing the same three outfits every day. Sometimes all three in one day when I don’t catch his spit up or his fountain pisses.
Tyler watches me as he cuddles Ty to his chest. As neatly as I can, I transfer all the clothing from the dresser into a tote. Only because the clothes are so small do I manage to get most of them in a single tote. I turn to the shelf of tubes and boxes and shit.
“All of that,” Tyler says.
Obediently, I do as he instructs. He continues to point me around the room, and I find a year’s worth of blankets and crib sheets, toys that he’s far too small to use, and more blankets. When I give Tyler a dubious look, he just smiles and nods, telling me I need to take them.
He says I don’t need any of the furniture right now, but we should think about moving it at some point. The changing table specifically is useful, but we can take the foldable play and sleep thing instead as a temporary solution.
The morning has Tyler pointing out things I need to take. Four totes from Ty’s nursery, and another tote and the side sleeper from Sally’s bedroom, which he didn’t want to step into. I have two more totes filled from the kitchen alone.
Then there are the seats and carriers and stroller and bathtub and, and, and, and…
By the time I have most of what I can fit loaded into my SUV, I’m feeling breathless with inadequacy. Sally had things that Ty wouldn’t be using for three years, and I didn’t have so much as a damn baby spoon!
Tyler loads Ty back into his carrier, and we leave Sally’s house as I eye the moving pod sitting in the driveway. It feels as though there’s a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow around.
“You okay?” he asks for the second time.
“Yes,” I answer, though I’m not entirely sure that’s true. “Are you?”
“I dread needing to actually attend to Sally’s… life. The house. Her bills.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“How about we start with her house? Figure out where her mortgage is, and I’ll pay it off.”
Tyler looks at me with wide eyes. “Why?”
“Because I think you need to take as much time as you need, and I think Ty might be able to learn about his mother by keeping her house and her things.”
I’m startled when tears immediately spill down his cheeks. He turns away to catch his breath.
“I’ll help you as best I can,” I say quietly. “I’m afraid it’s primarily on you to find access to everything in her life, though.”
“You didn’t know your fiancée at all,” he comments, sniffling.
“I didn’t,” I agree.
I expect more questions, but the rest of the car ride is quiet.
While I don’t always park in the garage unless a storm is coming, I back in so I can unload the vehicle under cover and out of the biting cold.
Tyler brings Ty inside, and I begin unloading everything, lining the entryway with it until it feels as if it’s going to fall down around me.
It takes me twenty minutes to get it all out, and then I’m standing just beyond it and staring. What the hell am I going to do with all this? Where does it go?
Tyler stands beside me, and together, we examine the haul we brought from Sally’s house. “It looks like it multiplied inside your car,” he comments.
I snort. “I was thinking that. Where am I going to put it all?”
“In Ty’s bedroom,” he answers.
“He doesn’t—” I stop myself from finishing that because I was about to sound like an asshole.
“He doesn’t have one yet,” Tyler finishes for me. He’s kind enough to add ‘yet’ to the end of the sentence. “You need to give him one.”
“There are three empty rooms upstairs.” I turn to look toward the stairs. “Any of them are fine.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
I meet Tyler’s eyes. “Yes.”
“The one down here is better.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s close, and he’s only barely a week old. You should be close to him—Mr. I’m sleeping on the couch until he goes to college.”
I roll my eyes and turn away. His quiet laughter at my response tugs a smile from me, and I appreciate the light teasing. This feels heavy for all of us, and it’d be easy to be crushed under the weight.
Taking one of the totes, I walk down the hall to the spare room on this floor. There’s a bed in it that hasn’t been used until Tyler showed up. Otherwise, the room is mostly for displaying whatever hockey memorabilia I collect. Mostly tokens of big moments in my life and awards.
I set the tote at the bottom of the bed.
Tyler’s standing just inside the door. His suitcase is on the floor, the top propped up against the wall. Yeah, I’m a shitty host. Just one more thing added to the growing list of reasons I’m shitty.
“If I move Ty in here, where are you going?” I ask.
“Well, for now, I can still stay here too, if that’s okay. That way, I’m close to Ty, too. Just in case. When it’s time to bring his crib in, and we need to move the bed out, I’ll just take a room upstairs.”
I nod absently. Fuck. Moving all this shit sounds exhausting.
Add it on top of the exhaustion I already feel.
Admittedly, I’m far less tired since Tyler arrived.
While I try not to let him shoulder the responsibility for my son, I’m relieved that he’s here to watch him while I take a shower and a nap from time to time.
“You don’t have to move anything out for now,” Tyler says, understanding my dread as if it were written across my forehead. “We’ll move around what’s already here. Okay?”
My shoulders relax. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. What’s in the drawers?” He points to the short, long dresser across from the bed.
I shake my head. “Extra bedding, primarily. I think it’s mostly empty, though.”
“Good.” Tyler comes into the room and opens a drawer. “Let’s start with what he’ll use most. Clothes in the top drawers, yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He meets my eyes and offers me a small smile. “We’re in this together. If you’re okay with that. I’m not trying to over—”
“You’re not,” I cut him off. “I’m okay with that.”
Tyler’s smile remains soft as he bows his head. My fingers itch to touch him. His smooth skin. His shiny, silky hair. Those perfect fucking lips, man.
I clear my throat and turn away. “Where’s Ty?”
“I set up the travel folding playpen with the bassinet top. I had you grab that and all the added pieces because there’s a changing table on top as well as a bassinet and mosquito net that goes over the entire top like a tent—because it’s super important to have the net in February in Winnipeg.”
I chuckle.
“We can bring him in here,” Tyler offers. “I left him in the living room since I knew we’d be back and forth, and there's less noise out there while we move around in here.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agree. “So… I’ll bring in more totes?”
“How about you put the side sleeper back together instead?”
“I swear, I’m not always going to be this amenable to taking direction, but I’m feeling stupidly overwhelmed and out of my element right now, so thank you for giving me direction.”
Tyler smiles. “That works out well enough because I don’t like to be in charge usually. I’m not unfamiliar with kids, and it’s clear that you’re about to sink into the floor if I don’t give you something productive to do.”
“You’re not wrong,” I mutter on my way out.
I stop by Ty long enough to make sure he’s still sleeping. And breathing. The number of articles and comments from people about babies who have stopped breathing in their sleep terrifies me. I didn’t even know that was a thing!
The side-sleeper bassinet broke down into a handful of pieces. Tyler made sure I took off all the fabric that could get dirty before I loaded it into my car. Wise decision since my dirty, sweaty hockey gear is usually what’s in my car.
It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to put it together, but Tyler has walked by three times, bringing totes into the spare bedroom.
I wheel the side sleeper as quietly as I can and stop in the doorway to watch him sorting through the clothes and bedding and whatever else he has spread all over the bed.
My chest feels warm as I watch him. Breathless. There’s a knot in my throat, but it doesn’t feel the same as it had all morning. This is different. It’s affection. Attraction.
All the things it shouldn’t be. Yet, I can’t look away as he gets Ty’s belongings in order. Already, the spare room I used to display all my hockey shit is looking more and more like a baby is taking over. I don’t hate it. I don’t hate that there are touches of Tyler in there, either.
Swallowing, I leave the side sleeper where it is and return to the hall to find something else to put together. The whisper of guilt over the initial acknowledgement that Tyler is stunning now grows to encompass the fact that maybe I might be a little attracted to him.
Attracted in a way I don’t ever recall feeling toward Sally. His own sister. The mother of my child. My deceased fiancée.
Wow. I’m a real piece of work.