It’s a bit early to put him in jammies, at late afternoon, but I don’t know what’s happening downstairs, and this will be one less task Baker has to think about later tonight.
Once Camden is all snuggled in his jammies, we both climb into his new big-boy bed that was delivered this week. It’s essentially a full-size mattress placed on the floor, surrounded by a bed frame that somewhat resembles a gate. Camden seems to love it, and it’s nice because we can snuggle up with him to read his books when putting him down. That’s the first thing Baker said when he saw it, which sold him on it.
Once next to him, Camden cuddles up to me, and I wrap my arm around him and begin to read. In just a few minutes, I feel his little body relax, and when I look down, he’s fast asleep. I keep reading a little longer, just to give him time to fall into a deep sleep before I move and risk waking him up.
“Did he go down okay?” a whispered voice asks, one I’d recognize anywhere.
“He did. I think the bath helped, and I put him in his pajamas,” I reply, keeping my voice soft. Discarding the book, I start to move gently, but Baker’s voice stops me.
“Stay,” he says, his voice like gravel.
I instantly freeze and relax back into the mattress. Baker closes Camden’s bedroom door and walks toward the bed. My eyes widen when he moves to the foot of the bed, steps over the railing, and lies down on the other side of his son, on his side, facing me.
On instinct, I, too, turn to my side to face him, tugging the soft blanket up over Camden to ward off the chill of the air conditioning, before my eyes lock on hazel ones, which are so full of sadness.
“Whatever it is, I’m here.” My words are soft, but he nods, letting me know that he heard me. I want to press for more, but instead, I remain quiet as we stay locked in a staring contest.
“He loves you,” he finally says, his eyes darting to his son, then back to me. “It’s been a week, and you’ve captured my son's heart.”
“He’s always had mine,” I confess. “He is the sweetest little boy.”
Baker nods, but then goes silent on me again. I’m trying to think of something to say. This usually isn’t an issue for me, but seeing his reaction downstairs, now is not the time for humor. Something’s wrong, and I know he’ll tell me in his own time. If not, I’m sure the girls will fill me in.
“Thank you for taking care of him. I know today is your day off, but I appreciate you jumping in.”
“Of course,” I reply as the silence once again surrounds us.
“She’s gone,” he whispers brokenly.
“Who’s gone?”
“Natasha.”
I’m confused. She’s gone, as in, she’s moving away? I’m running scenarios through my mind when he speaks again.
“She was on a small plane, headed to one of the smaller islands of Hawaii, and her plane went down.” His tortured hazel eyes find mine. “She’s gone. Levi was with her and the pilot. No survivors.”
“Oh, Baker,” I breathe, as my heart cracks wide open for the little boy sleeping peacefully between us. “I’m so sorry.” I know that’s not the right words to say, but I’m failing at speaking anything else at the moment.
“She wasn’t the best mother, but she was alive, you know?”
“I know.” I nod, because he’s right. She might not have been making Camden a priority now, but there was always a chance she could change her ways. Now, that chance has been taken away. “What can I do?”
“You’re here,” he says, his sad eyes meeting mine. “I don’t know how to navigate this. Her parents are deceased, and I don’t think she’s close to any other family.”
“Then we’ll lay her to rest properly. I’ll do everything I can to help you.” Training camp starts Monday, and I know this is going to be a lot on his shoulders.
“I want to say that I can’t ask you to do that, but, Sloane, I’m drowning here. My heart aches for my son, who will never get to know his mother. She wasn’t the best, but she was his, you know? I hate that he won’t remember her. It’s ironic because if she had kept going down the path she was on, I was going to ask her to sign her rights over to me. Now, here I am, potentially planning her funeral.”
“I’ll do it,” I tell him. I can’t only see, but hear the anguish this is causing him.
“The worst part is how many times I’ve thought that if she were out of our lives, it would be better. I could stop wondering if she was going to be present for him, and just move on, but, Sloane, I promise you, I didn’t want this. I would never wish this on anyone.”
“No, of course not. This isn’t your fault, Baker. Your feelings were based on her actions. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Hell, we all thought it,” I tell him. “We all saw how her ignoring Camden affected you, and I might be a bitch for saying this, but you know who it didn’t affect?” I pause, waiting for his reply, but all he gives me is a slight shrug. “Cam. You love him hard, Baker. This little boy is happy and healthy, and while you might be letting guilt set heavy on your shoulders, know that you’re an incredible father, and it shows in this little guy. That’s all you, Baker. She’s barely seen him for the last few months. You give him the love and safety that he needs. I hate that he lost his mother. I do. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that the Sinclair men are going to be just fine because you have each other.”
“And you. I can’t—I’m going to need you, Sloane. He needs you. The thought of leaving him with a stranger right now, I hate it, and I have to get through this before I can even think about interviews and finding someone new.”
“I’m here for as long as you need me,” I assure him. “Honestly, the chances of me finding a job this close to the school year starting are slim, so don’t worry about that. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
