“I’ll try. It’s been hard to break away from work. But now that there’s an actual reason besides my dumb big brother, maybe I’ll prioritize Vegas.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Ev. You always know just how to make me feel better.”
“I figured that was why you called. Listen, you’ll be fine. No parent knows what they’re doing when they first have a kid. Yours is just, well, six months older than most kids are when parents get started.”
“And there’s often a significant other in the equation,” I mutter.
“Valid point, but we play the cards we’re dealt. And knowing how you’ve always been a little scrappy but managed to pull yourself up more than once, I think you’ve got this under control, too.”
“Scrappy?” I repeat. “No one hasevercalled Dex Bradley scrappy.”
“No one except his baby sister.”
I can practically see the smirk on her face. “Well, thanks for nothing.”
“Dex, seriously, if you need anything, call me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Thanks. Don’t say a fucking word to anybody about any of this.” I end the call before she gets mushy and says something stupid like she loves me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I think shedidhelp.
Reality hasn’t set in yet, and maybe it won’t for a while. But I think she might be right.
As much as my first instinct was to figure out a solution to this problem, it’s entirely possible that I myself am the solution.
It’s a little over an hour later when he’s crying, and I’mtryingto change his diaper, but the kid is wiggly as fuck. I don’t want to damage any of the family jewels, so to speak, so I’m careful to wipe him the way I watched Ainsley do last night, but then the kid decides he needs to take a piss.
There’s no ready, aim, fire. It’s just fire.
The piss arches straight into the air and right onto my shirt, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do, so I panic for a few very wet seconds before I use the fresh diaper I was trying to open up, and I cover his entire area with it so at least I’m not still getting pissed on by my own kid.
He stops crying, at least. And now he’s giggling.
He’s fucking laughing at me as I pull the wet diaper away to inspect the damage.
The table is wet. The pad I have the kid on is wet. I’m wet. Jack is wet.
And he still isn’t wearing a goddamn diaper.
I pull his clothes all the way off, and I make sure he’s secure on the table before I pull my shirt off and toss it on top of his wet clothes. My shorts got a little on them, too, so I pull those off as well.
And that’s how Ainsley finds us after three hours away. She peeks her head into the baby’s room, sees Jack on the table naked and giggling along with me standing there in my underwear cursing my entire existence.
Her eyes are wide as she looks to me for my reaction.
“How was your interview?” I ask calmly.
She bursts into laughter.
“That good?”
She walks into the room. “What happened?”
“I was trying to change him, and he pissed all over me. Kid’s got good aim, that’s for sure.”
“Just practicing for writing his name in the snow in a few years.” She shrugs.
“He’s got me for a dad plus four uncles. He doesn’t need to practice quite yet, and there are plenty of guys who can train him.”
“My mom said there’s a thing called a peepee teepee to cover little boys up so they don’t do that.”
