Chapter 26
DENNY
I have half a mind to take us on a short road trip to Toronto to attend Winnipeg’s next game. We’d have had to get a box to keep Ty warm, but it’d be worth it. If Ty didn’t have his two-month well-child exam today, I might have truly considered it.
We sit in the waiting room with two other small children. One is crying and won’t stop. The other is three with a runny nose, constantly wiping his snot on the back of his hand, and playing with the waiting room toys.
Needless to say, I make sure we’re as far away from all of them as we can be.
When the snotty little kid tries to come say hi to my baby, I make it very clear that sick children are not allowed near my infant.
Their mother wasn’t happy with me. Tyler might have implied that she’s irresponsible if she thought we should be allowing our new baby, who’s just building an immune system, near her sick kid.
“You do you, Karen,” Tyler said as he shifted his body so she had her back.
I tried really hard not to laugh at the look on her face. I’m not sure if it was Tyler’s dismissal or calling her Karen. Her indignation at having her kid told no suggested that nothing else we said bothered her.
Now I’m watching Tyler as he takes Ty out of his carrier. We’re alone in the exam room, but there are only two words that float through my head right now, and they’re both being said in Tyler’s voice—our baby. That’s what he said. Our baby.
A thrill of excitement mixes with warmth so thick that it presses against my lungs and makes my breath shallow. Our baby. I know I made it clear that I wanted to raise Ty together. Everything else aside, I want Tyler to be Ty’s second parent.
For many reasons, really. Not least of all, I’m scared and don’t want to do this on my own.
I think we’ll both suffer far too much if I have to try.
Then there’s also the fact that he’s Sally’s brother.
Fact of the matter is, I never knew Sally.
I would never be able to tell Ty about her.
Having Tyler here means that Sally is here.
The memory of her will be alive, and Ty will know his mother.
Maybe it’s also because he’s the only true family Ty has outside of me.
Yes, I have siblings, but for all intents and purposes, I don’t.
I have no relationship with them. Last night’s conversation with Leon is the longest I’ve spoken to him…
maybe in my entire life. One conversation doesn’t equal a relationship.
With Tyler here, Ty now has two members of his family.
Maybe for a more selfish and separate reason that truly has nothing to do with Ty, I want to keep Tyler around.
For me. It’s more than just enjoying his company.
It’s more than epically good sex. There’s something between us.
Even through his grief and my panic, it stirred and bubbled and pulled us together. It grows all the time.
Like right now, in a way that I hadn’t ever thought would make me feel any particular way. Telling some biddy off to protect our baby. Calling Ty our baby. His protectiveness. His uncaring dismissal of her opinion and expectations to be polite when it came to Ty’s health.
All of it leaves my heart racing. My breath shallows. The edges of my vision are dark, while I can only see him as he brings Ty to his chest and coos to him.
He looks up, meeting my eyes. His smile is soft. Probably unsure why I’m looking at him the way I am, however it is I’m looking at him. Tyler crosses the room and hands me Ty.
“Everything okay?” he asks as I settle our baby into my arms. He brushes Ty’s hair aside and gently rubs Ty’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He nods. Something keeps me trapped in his pretty eyes. I’ve loved his eyes since he first stood on my porch. A random thought in the back of my head had me seeing them. Even in my exhaustion. In my near breakdown. His eyes stuck with me.
Now I get to look at them every day.
“I’m really good,” I repeat.
His smile is soft. There’s a warmth spreading between us. Not that sexy charge that happens often. Maybe because I’m holding Ty. Maybe because this has nothing to do with physical attraction. This is something far better.
There’s a knock on the door right before it opens. Tyler takes a step back and turns to face it.
Ty’s pediatrician’s name is Dr. Soothsayer. I’m pretty confident that she changed her name. I love everything about it.
“Good morning,” she greets with a smile. “How’s Ty doing? Any concerns?”
One of my favorite things about this office is that they remember small things like nicknames.
I’m sure their records have all those notes, but it also means they take the time to read the notes.
I’m not ever called Dennis. It’s always Denny.
Tyler is noted as a second parental figure and an uncle. He’s referred to as such.
“He’s doing well though I have nothing to compare it to,” I say as Dr. Soothsayer washes her hands. I’m sure she did before she came into the room, but I appreciate seeing it in front of me, too.
She turns to face us as she dries her hands.
“He seems to be eating everything but there’s conflicting information online. If he’s still hungry, I can give him more, right?”
“Yes,” Dr. Soothsayer answers. “Start with an extra ounce. If he’s inconsolably hungry, then we should take a look at him further.”
Tyler and I are both shaking our heads.
“No, nothing like that. We’ve given him a little more when he still acts hungry, and he only drinks another ounce or so. Then he’s content and sleeps again.”
“Good. You can adjust his feeding as needed. If you find he’s extra hungry first thing in the morning, go ahead and offer him more. Many people are hungry in the morning. Do you still feed him throughout the night?”
We both nod.
“Yes. We’ve been waiting until he’s hungry, mostly. Letting him tell us when he’s ready. So that makes sense then, doesn’t it?” I look at Tyler and he agrees.
“Very good. What else?” Dr. Soothsayer asks. “Still getting milk from the hospital or have you moved to formula?”
“Both,” I answer. “However, we’ve been talking about moving a little more toward formula.
April—the nurse who’s graciously made herself available to me since taking Ty home—made a comment that the hospital has been running into shortages.
I don’t want to take away from other babies that need it more than Ty. ”
“Ty’s needs are just as important,” Tyler says.
“No, I know, but some babies struggle with formula. Ty doesn’t. That’s all I mean.”
Dr. Soothsayer listens to us, nodding as we go back and forth as to whether Ty needs the milk or can go to formula.
“How about you compromise? I would like to see him continue to gain the immunity offered in breast milk as long as possible. There’s nothing to replace that. However, since he does well with formula, you can cut down the intake of milk. Maybe halve your order and supplement with formula.”
I look at Tyler, and he nods. He tries to hide his smile by bowing his head. Maybe because I’m making sure his opinion is as important as mine is. That’s what you do when you co-parent, right?
“May I?” Dr. Soothsayer asks as she comes toward us.
I hand Ty over so she can begin her exam, talking to us about what she’s looking for and what she notes as she does. We listen, probably far more intently than needed.
As Dr. Soothsayer is beginning to dress Ty again after checking his feet and legs, Tyler nudges me, giving me an expectant look. I have no idea what he wants, though.
He chews his lip as he looks between us and then blows it out. “Can we… your mom?” he asks.
“Oh. Yes. Can you do an exam specifically looking for abuse?”
Dr. Soothsayer pauses and then looks up at us. “Is there concern?”
“No,” we both answer.
I release a frustrated sigh and pull out my phone to show her the original video of my mother yanking Ty from Tyler’s arms. Then I show her the video of last night, letting her hear all the things my mother spews as she demands access to my son. Then I explain the situation over the last month.
“I just want it on record that you’ve done a thorough exam as if there were concerns of abuse, neglect, malnourishment… whatever. I want it on record.”
Dr. Soothsayer presses her lips together. “Those are some very serious accusations by someone who has handled your child roughly.”
“I know. I’m confident that both CAS and the police department understand that my mother is speaking out of her ass—excuse my language.
She as much as said so in the video last night.
However, it’s their job to check all accusations, so I really want it on the official record or whatever that my son is perfectly healthy and being taken care of as he should be. ”
She nods. “Very well. Let’s see.”
Once more, she goes through the process of examining my kid, far more thoroughly this time. As she did during her initial exam, she tells us what she’s doing and why, and what signs she’s looking for. She notes what she finds.
When she’s finished, she looks up at me.
“Ty is perfect. I find no sign of abuse. He’s also very calm as I move him around and look at him.
He’s aware, and his fussing here and there is likely because he’s cold.
Most babies don’t enjoy being naked because it’s far colder than the environment they grew in.
His fussing could also be because we’re interrupting nap time.
His eyelids are heavy. However, I have no concerns with Ty’s welfare. ”
While I knew Ty was being taken care of and that I’m not doing anything to hurt my baby, hearing the doctor agree makes a weight I didn’t know I was carrying fall away. In my peripheral vision, Tyler looks like he feels the same relief. He blows out a breath and looks at me with a smile.
“Thank you. I know that probably took up more time than we were allotted, but I appreciate it.”
Dr. Soothsayer nods as she redresses Ty.
“I take all accusations seriously. Not just because that’s my oath as a doctor, but because child abuse is a topic that I hold very close to my chest. Equally so, false accusations can be just as harmful to a child as actual abuse.
Pulling a child out of their home and potentially putting them into another that is less than ideal can have an equal trauma on a child.
I hope you get this taken care of. Please give my number to the police and CAS should another incident arise. ”
“Thank you.”
She hands me back my baby and then grips my arm before washing her hands and wrapping up the appointment. “Take your time getting him ready. We’ll see you in a month, Denny, Tyler, and Ty.”
She leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.
“You know, I feel a ridiculous amount of relief now that he’s been examined specifically to address these stupid accusations,” Tyler says. “I know he’s fine and healthy and not being hurt, but now an official report or whatever is on record.”
“I know. I felt the same relief.”
Tyler adjusts Ty’s straps in his car seat, holding them open so I can set him inside. Together, we get him buckled and covered over. When he’s settled, I wrap an arm around Tyler’s waist and rest my head against his. He sinks into my side, and for just a minute, we relax.
This one thing should discredit everything my mother calls in with. I’m feeling really great when we check out and head to my car. That is, until we climb in, and my phone rings. Coach’s name flashes across my dash.
The team is in Toronto, so I know I’m not supposed to be anywhere right now. I hit the answer button.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Denny. Everything okay?”
I look at Tyler and put the car back in park. “Yes. Is everything okay with you?”
He chuckles. “I take it you haven’t been online today.”
My shoulders tense. “No. We’ve been at the pediatrician’s.”
“Ty okay?”
“Just his well-child check. He’s fine. In fact, she said he’s perfect.”
“Good. Denny, there’s a woman posting all kinds of wild shit online.”
Tyler’s already pulling his phone from his pocket when I look in his direction. There are voices in the distance before Coach speaks again. “Ren says he knows some legendary lawyers. Epic is the word Felton used. Ren says they’re good.”
“Oh my god,” Tyler mutters. I examine his face as he scrolls on his phone. He looks at me, eyebrows knit together low on his head. Not in surprise, but in concern.
I have a feeling I don’t want to know. Still, he hands me his phone, and I’m looking at a post on Spectrum. In my opinion, Spectrum is the scum sludge of social media with their hypocritical Community Standards, lack of policing hate speech, and excessive bullying.
Which means I’m not in the least bit surprised that’s where Tyler found what Coach is likely referencing. My fucking mother has made a post about how the Canadian systems are failing to protect her innocent grandson from an unhealthy, inappropriate environment.
It’s a long, rambling speech, reminding me of certain individuals making political speeches who talk for two hours and say nothing at all. However, as in those instances, there are very serious accusations and threats veiled here.
I take a breath, trying to release some of my tension.
“Denny?” Coach’s voice surrounding me reminds me that he’s still on the phone.
“Yeah?”
“I know this is going to be difficult, but don’t engage. I understand that this is a very serious, personal attack, but we need you to keep your head down for right now.”
“Coach—”
“We know you, Denny,” he says, voice quiet. “We know it’s lies. Your team is absolutely furious, but just like other instances in recent months, unfairly or not, we need to make sure PR and the team are on the same page before addressing anything publicly.”
“You want me to let this go unchecked?”
“I want you to call a lawyer. Call the police and relay what’s happening. I want you to take a breather before engaging, but Denny, it’s never a good idea to engage, regardless of who’s saying what. You know that.”
I do know that. He’s not wrong. But letting her spew her bullshit into the world is equally problematic. All the weight I recently shed in the doctor’s office is now piled higher and heavier on my back. I want to scream.