Chapter 1 #3
I clear my throat, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uhm,” I start, voice catching like it always does when I’m trying not to sound like a dick, “You didn’t say much about yourself over the phone. I just wanna make sure you actually know how to handle him, is all.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t get defensive or give me that wounded look like I accused her of something.
She just nods, still holding Leon against her like he weighs nothing, like she’s been doing it for years.
“Of course, Mr. Coyle.” Her voice is soft again—earnest, not trying to sweet talk me.
Just straight. “I’m twenty-five. I don’t have kids of my own, but I’ve babysat a lot. Mostly infants and toddlers. I used to work for a family with three under five—chaos, but it taught me patience.”
She adjusts her hold on Leon like second nature. He tucks his head against her collarbone and sighs, already settling.
“I can change diapers, bottle feed, give him a bath if you need me to. Make meals. I’ve done overnights too. I know how to handle spit-ups, blowouts, and baby fevers. You don’t have to worry.”
I cross my arms, lean against the doorframe. “Lot of people say that. Then they flinch the second he starts crying.”
She raises an eyebrow—not cocky, not sarcastic. Just calm. “I don’t scare easy.”
Leon lets out a soft hum, head still buried in her shoulder.
“You smoke?”
“No.”
“Drink?”
“Not when I’m working. Not much when I’m not.”
“You got anyone you’re planning to bring over?”
She blinks. “Like a boyfriend?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Or a parade of friends. Roommates. Whatever.”
She shakes her head. “No. It’d just be me and Leon. I don’t… I’m not really social these days.”
There’s something there. The way she says it. Quiet. Clipped. I file it away but don’t press.
“Alright,” I say, finally exhaling, “You got a phone? In case I need to reach you during shift?”
She shifts Leon to one arm and pulls a cheap Android out of her hoodie pocket. Cracked screen. I don’t say anything.
“Number’s the same one I called you from last night,” she says, unlocking it to double-check.
I nod. “Okay.”
There’s a silence for a second. Comfortable, somehow. Leon lets out a baby snore.
“You want me to text you updates?” she asks.
I glance at my boots, then back at her. “If he shits through his clothes or starts puking, yeah. Otherwise, just keep him alive.”
She smiles again. Not one of those fake, all-teeth grins people flash when they’re trying too hard. It’s small, worn-in. A little tired, a little knowing. Like someone who’s already been through her share of shit and doesn’t expect life to hand her anything easy—but she shows up anyway.
“I can do that,” she says, voice steady. Confident, but not cocky. Just sure.
I nod once, sharp. “Alright.”
Step back, grab my keys off the hook by the door, and eye her one last time. Leon’s practically melted against her chest now, one fat fist curled in the fabric of her hoodie like he’s already claimed her. Lucky bastard.
“I’ll be back by seven,” I say, reaching for the doorknob. “Bottle’s prepped in the fridge, diapers and wipes are in the basket under the coffee table. Extra clothes in the hallway closet, second shelf. If he starts crying and doesn’t stop, check his stomach. He gets gassy sometimes. Rub his back.”
She nods like she’s memorizing it all. “Got it.”
“Text if there’s an emergency,” I add, opening the door halfway. “Otherwise, don’t blow up my phone. I work with heavy shit. Can’t be checking messages every five minutes.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll pay you when I get back. Cash. Unless you want Venmo or some shit—though don’t count on that, I barely use it.”
“Cash is fine.” She shifts Leon gently from one side to the other, bouncing him just a little. He hums, eyes half-lidded already. “Do you want me to write down what he eats, when he naps?”
I blink. That’s… above and beyond. None of the others even asked.
“If you’ve got the time,” I mutter. “Not like I’m logging it into some parenting app, but it’s good to know if he’s fussier than usual.”
“Alright. I’ll keep a note.”
Another beat. I glance down at my boots, then back at her.
“You need anything—anything—you call me. Don’t wait.”
“I will.”
I hover there a second longer than I should. Just watching her. She doesn’t flinch under it. Doesn’t get fidgety or weird. Just holds Leon like she’s meant to be doing exactly that. He lets out another soft baby sigh and I feel something tight in my chest twist a little.
I shake it off.
“Door locks from the inside. If anyone knocks, don’t open it unless you know them.”
She gives a little half-smile. “You think I’m new to shitty apartments?”
I huff a short, dry laugh. “Fair enough.”
And with that, I finally pull the door open the rest of the way and step out into the hallway. The air out there’s stale. Smells like someone’s microwaved fish again.
I glance back one last time. She’s already walking toward the couch, Leon tucked against her like she’s done this a thousand times.
For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel like I’m walking out into the day with my guts in my hands.