“Getting Addison ready. Playdate time.”
“Hate to break it to you, but she’s not going to be the life of the party.”
“Just get some of your milk out of the fridge and prepare some bottles,” she hollers down. “Then get your ass up here and get dressed.”
“You’re swearing in front of my baby.” I blow on my coffee.
“Give me a break. It’s not my filthy mouth she’ll learn it from.”
I hear her upstairs, opening and closing drawers. A few minutes later, Eloise comes down with the diaper bag and Addison changed into a new outfit. “I told you, go get ready.”
I sip my coffee. “Are you kidnapping her?”
“No, I’m kidnapping you. We’re having a girls’ day out, so let’s go. We’ve got the usual babysitters. Now get your sorry ass ready.”
“Can I just stay here and sleep then?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry, all four of us are spending the day shopping and eating. Plus, we have to bring Ruby her gifts.”
At least I managed to get one thing done, since Ruby’s gift is sitting under the tree in Grinch wrapping.
“Then you spend the night here tonight and get up with Addison while I have a restful, full night’s sleep? Deal.” We both laugh as I set my coffee down and head back upstairs.
I strip off my clothes, throw my hair in a ponytail, and put on a little bit of makeup. I’ve definitely been sporting the new mom don’t-say-shit-to-me look, which I quite enjoy.
By the time I’m back downstairs, Eloise has Addison all wrapped up to ward off the cold on the short walk over to the Jade’s parents’ house. She’s going to be such a great mom someday. I’m assuming they haven’t been successful in trying to get pregnant since they haven’t said anything. Conor isn’t one for secrets.
“Hey,” I say, feeling like a jerk for complaining about being a mother when she’s trying to get pregnant.
She must see it in my face because she shakes her head. “Nope. One day I’ll be complaining to you, and you’ll be telling me to suck it up.”
I give her a soft smile, and she nuzzles Addison again and kisses her forehead.
“You guys are serious about trying, huh?”
She answers me by throwing my coat at me. “Here.” And then my purse. “I put the milk in the bag, and everything they need for the day is in there.”
A sudden wave of guilt hits me. “I can’t just pawn off my baby.”
“Yes, you can. Reed and Victoria are happy to help. Consider it your Christmas gift.”
I feel her eyes on me as I stare at my daughter. “Maybe I shouldn’t?—”
“You should, and you are. I know it’s hard, but mothers need a break sometimes. And it’s especially hard when the guys are in season and are away so much. Now, let’s go.” She walks to the door and opens it, and a rush of cold air pours in.
“Are you sure?” Why am I asking her permission?
Because your mind is mush from having little-to-no adult interaction.
“Yes, now come on.” She waves. “And remember this when I don’t want to leave my kid, okay?”
“Deal, but two hands on the baby. Tweetie would have a conniption if he saw you right now.” I walk by her and down the steps.
“Well, Tweetie is in Boston, so whatever.”
It’s freezing out, but this is when the snow looks fresh and white in the Midwest. When it’s beautiful and glowing. After the holidays, you notice the dirt in the snow, and the white flakes just aren’t as magical as before.
I look at Eloise and Addison and think about the times when Addison will want to go outside and play—build snowmen, have a snowball fight, make snow angels. And that is exactly why we moved to the same block as all our friends. So our kids can grow up together.
