Chapter 5 #2
Joey hiccups from the doorway. His temper tantrums never last long, but they are epic in nature.
I’ve seen other parents who can negotiate or coax their child out of a fit, but I’ve never been able to do that.
My frustration escalates his frustration, and we both end up in tears.
As long as he’s in a safe place, I walk away now and let him find me when he’s ready.
But navigating his ability or inability to share at a playgroup is a bit different than doing it constantly at home.
God, I hope I adapt quickly to handling both of them together.
“My car!” he says from the door.
“Chloe’s teeth are sore,” I say. “We’ll take turns. When she’s done, Mommy will clean it and give it back to you.”
He runs across the floor and snatches up the rest of his cars and sticks them in the basket where his toys live. While I appreciate the tidiness, there’s still a tightness in his posture that suggests we could be on the cusp of a second bout of outrage.
“Why don’t you come sit beside Mommy and meet Chloe? She’s Nanny Ashley’s baby.”
He stomps over to the couch with his arms crossed, and he gets in Chloe’s face. “My mommy.”
“Joey.” I take his elbow and draw him away. “We don’t speak to people like that.”
Our life has been full of adjustments this last week, and he’s barely gotten over the jetlag plaguing us both. Being a bit possessive of me is likely normal. Probably. Hopefully. Heaven help me, I hope I’m not raising a brat.
We’re at a standoff for, I don’t know how long, when the front door opens, and I breathe a sigh of relief. In the doorway, Ashley has a bag in his hand.
“I set your change beside your handbag. Kitchen?” He raises the stapled package.
Joey jumps up, and he rushes to Ashley. He throws his arms around his leg, and he glances toward us over his shoulder with a glare directed at Chloe. Content with the car soothing her gums, Chloe merely grins back. I chuckle at his obvious attempt to make her jealous.
“You all right, mate?” Ashley ruffles the top of Joey’s head with his big hand.
“He’s a bit worried Chloe might be stealing his mother.”
Ashley sets the bag at his feet, and he crouches to meet Joey’s gaze. “I’d wager your mum’s heart is big enough to love you and tend to Chloe. Come help Nanny Ash set the table.” He offers his palm, and Joey sticks his hand in it, sliding another look at me, as though he expects me to stop him.
While I might have preferred Ashley take the drooling Chloe off my lap, it’s probably better for Joey’s jealousy to have this child exchange presented as normal.
He’s always had his nanny or his grandparents or even my attention all to himself.
Having another child in the house might be more of an adjustment for him than I initially anticipated.
When I turned twenty-nine, I decided I was done with dating that went nowhere, and I took control over having a family.
I wanted a baby and decided to have one.
But Joey is also my parents’ only grandchild, my sister’s only nephew, and he’s never had to share the spotlight with anything or anyone other than my job responsibilities, which I’ve often been able to leave at work or until after he’s gone to sleep.
Sharing me might be a huge challenge for him.
By the time I get to the kitchen, Ashley has Joey seated in a booster. The high chair is set up, and there’s a small bowl of rice and sauce on the table along with a bottle. As soon as Chloe sees the bottle, she starts making the milk sign.
“Do you want me to…” I gesture to the highchair with Chloe in my arms, ready to slot her in.
“Yeah. Do you mind? She can have the bottle.” He plucks it off the kitchen table and sets it on the tray.
In Chloe’s excitement, she knocks it over after she’s in the chair, and he catches it midair.
“Not the first time,” he mutters before setting it in her eager hands.
She tilts it up, her feet kicking softly against the bottom of the chair.
Joey is across the table from her, eyeing her warily with his spoon shoved into the mound of rice and sauce. He’s so focused on her, that he takes a bite and chews without a single protest.
I breathe a sigh of relief that my earlier boast about his flexibility eating won’t be revealed to be a falsehood today. Likely tomorrow, when I’m not here, Joey will kick up a fuss, and Ashley will wonder how I ever called Joey a good eater.
Ashley secures the buckles on the high chair, and then he passes me a plate. He walks me through the dishes, telling me what they are and their heat level. At the end, he indicates the bread housed in tinfoil.
“Peshwari naan and garlic naan. I prefer the garlic. The Peshwari is sweeter with bits and bobs in it.” He sticks a couple pieces of his favorite on the side of his plate, and at the table, he plops one onto the corner of Joey’s dish, before tearing up the bread for Chloe.
After scooping the rice into sections on my plate, I spoon sauce and chunks of meat on each section. If I keep them all divided, it’ll be easier to figure out what I like and don’t like.
When I take a seat at the table, Ashley eyes my plate. “If you’re a bit nervous, start with the yellow one.” He points the end of his fork in my direction.
I mix up the rice and sauce, and I take a tentative bite. Coconut and cinnamon lend the dish an unexpected sweetness. Not bad at all. “I like this one.”
“Sometimes stepping outside your comfort zone works out all right,” he says before taking a bite of his dark-red curry. I can’t remember what he called it, but he warned me it would feel like shoving rice balls made of lava into my mouth.
Who willingly shovels balls of lava into their mouth? Questionable taste and judgment. But whatever I’m eating right now is truly delicious, so I’ll give him a pass.
We eat mostly in silence, and when Joey asks Nanny Ash for more of the yellow sauced chicken, I nearly fall off my chair. A miracle. Once Ashley is done eating, he feeds Chloe some of the mixture, and she claps her hands in delight at the first bite.
The whole scene is a bit surreal. Yesterday, I never would have guessed my day would have gone like this, and that I’d be happy about it. Yet here I am with a weirdly content feeling in my stomach, and it’s not just from the food.
Perhaps Ashley is right and stepping outside my comfort zone—by moving here, by hiring him, by trying to immerse us in the British culture—really will turn out well.
This week has brought so many doubts, and tomorrow my new job will bring another set of challenges.
But right now, in this kitchen, I’m giving myself a pat on the back.
Everything seems like it’s going to be just fine.