Chapter Tariq “Reek” Horton
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
By the second day after Cairo got here, I was already learning that newborns had no respect for time, sleep, or peace.
I was in Ava’s kitchen shirtless and pacing the floor with Cairo in one arm while I waited on a bottle of Ava’s breast milk to warm.
He had been whining for the last five minutes, not full-out crying, just making that restless little fussing sound babies made.
I kept bouncing him against my chest, with one hand cupping the back of his tiny head and the other rubbing slowly up and down his back.
“I got you,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. “I got you, RoRo.”
He smelled like milk, baby lotion, and that soft warm baby smell that still did something to me every time I breathed him in.
It was crazy how natural he felt in my arms now.
The same nigga who had spent half this pregnancy scared of fatherhood was now in Ava’s kitchen pacing a line in the hardwood floor because his son was hungry and he wanted to be the one to settle him.
I turned toward the microwave to check the bottle and nearly jumped out my skin when I saw Ava standing in the kitchen entryway watching me.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
She looked soft and sleepy in one of my T-shirts with her bonnet on and her arms folded under her breasts. Her light eyes were still drowsy. “I woke up looking for my crying baby, and both of y’all were gone.”
I glanced down at Cairo, then back at her. “When I came in with the food, he was crying and you was knocked out. So, I took him. You needed that nap.”
Ava stood there like she wanted to argue, but she was too tired to.
I reached into the microwave, grabbed the bottle, and shook it gently. “Go lay back down. I got this.”
That skeptical little look stayed on her face.
I walked over and kissed her forehead with Cairo still in one arm. “For real. Go back to sleep. He’s straight.”
That was still new too. Her trusting me enough to let me say that and not instantly challenge it.
Over the last two days, I had thrown myself into fatherhood in a way I hadn’t expected.
I was obsessed with him already and gentler towards him and Ava more than I knew how to explain.
The same man who once swore he didn’t want kids was now moving like this baby hung the moon and his mother deserved to be carried through every hard part of healing.
And the wildest part was that none of it felt like a burden.
Taking care of Ava and Cairo didn’t feel like some weight on my life I had to force myself to accept.
It felt like real purpose, the kind that made the rest of my old excuses feel cheap.
I loved the quiet parts most; the late-night feedings, Ava half asleep against me while Cairo made those little greedy noises trying to eat, the way he settled when he heard my voice, the way Ava looked at me now when she caught me doing little shit for them both.
Ava sighed and rubbed at one eye. “Okay. But if he really starts crying, come get me.”
Looking at her, I tilted my head, “Why? I got him.”
She smiled at my resistance. “Make sure the milk isn’t too hot.”
“I know how to test a bottle, Ava. Go to sleep.”
She playfully rolled her eyes but finally turned and shuffled back toward the bedroom.
Once she was gone, I took Cairo into the living room, dropped down on the couch, and got comfortable. He latched on fast. His little hands were balled up near his face while he drank like he was starving. I sat there watching him and felt that same deep, humbling feeling settle over me again.
He had just finished half the bottle when somebody knocked at the door. I already knew who it was. So, I stood, balanced Cairo against my shoulder, and went to the door.
It was Saint and Legend, coming to meet my son.
Saint came in with Legend right behind him. The second Saint saw Cairo on my shoulder, his whole demeanor softened.
“Check out nephew,” he said, already stepping closer.
Legend glanced down at him and smiled. “He little as hell.”
I stepped aside so they could come in. “Y’all keep it down. Ava sleep.”
That got me a taunting look from both of them.
Saint grinned. “You in deep.”
I nudged him with my elbow as he walked by. “Man, shut up.”
After we got comfortable on the couch, Saint looked over Cairo, as he continued to feed from his bottle in my arms. “He look like you.”
Legend nodded. “Yeah. Poor lil’ nigga.”
Suddenly, Cairo made this thick little grunt against my shoulder that did not sound right.
I frowned.
Then I felt warmth. Too much warmth.
I pulled him back just enough to look and instantly knew some foul shit had happened. “Aw, hell nah.”
Saint leaned in. “What?”
“He had a blow out.”
Legend started laughing.
I looked down at my son like he had personally betrayed me. The back of his onesie was done. His blanket had caught some of it too. I could smell it now, and that smell hit the back of my throat disrespectfully.
“Yo,” I grunted. “This is insane.”
Legend was bending over laughing. “You can be around blood and guts, but baby shit about to take you out?”
“That’s not the same thing,” I gagged.
Saint was no help at all. “That nigga got hit with that newborn sniper fire.”
I carried Cairo toward the changing table in the corner of the living room and laid him down real careful. Then I peeled the blanket back like I was defusing a bomb.
The smell got worse.
I turned my head, gagging again. “Yo.”
Legend was standing over me now, still grinning. “You better not throw up on that baby.”
“I’m not gonna throw up.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
I cut my eyes at him while trying to unsnap the onesie without smearing the situation into a bigger disaster. “You just used to this because you got so many kids.”
Saint stood at the end of the table with his arms folded, useless as hell.
“Need me to tap in?” Legend asked.
“No,” I refused quickly. “I got it.”
Even with all the gagging, cursing, and clowning from them two, I got Cairo cleaned up, wiped down, and in a fresh diaper and onesie. Little man just laid there blinking at all three of us like he hadn’t just detonated himself ten minutes earlier.
By the time I was done, Saint and Legend were still laughing, and I was looking at my son like he was one of the opps.
“He did that on purpose,” I muttered.
Legend clapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
I looked down at Cairo, all clean again and making little satisfied noises like none of that had been his fault. And even with the smell still lingering and my stomach still not fully recovered, I smiled. Because if this was what came with him, then I was taking all of it.