I still don’t understand how she can be so quiet one moment, and the next she’s scaring me to death. Sometimes I believe the police are gonna knock at my door and take her away because they think I’m torturing her.
For a moment, surprised by the movement, she quiets, and I’m ready to call it a win, but when the new experience becomes an old thing she begins fussing again.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” I ask, patting her bum to check if she needs changing, but it’s dry. I’ve already failed with the dummy, so maybe she needs her bottle. “Do you need your bottle?” If only she could talk, it would solve half of my problems.
I pull the blanket from the chair and place it on top of Arianna. The last thing I want is for her to get a cold. I open the door, and quickly walk to the kitchen, the movement making her cries stop.
The moon is shining through the window tonight, immersing the room in a pallid light that allows me to avoid turning the light on. It would make Arianna even more finicky than what she is.
I open the cupboard and pull out one of the bottles, then pull the big can of dry milk towards me while I bounce Arianna to keep her calm. I remove the top of her bottle that’s only resting on the bottom, and then open the can and use the smurf-like spoon inside to gather some of the milk.
My hand trembles before I can reach the opening, and some of the powder spills on the counter. “Oh, come on, man, it’s not rocket science,” I whisper to myself, and my voice sounds desperate and tired. I spoon some more until I reach the required quantity.
Arianna chooses that moment to break the silence and her cries echo through the house.
I hope Jay is a heavy sleeper, because Arianna is not taking prisoners tonight. I quickly prepare the bottle and once it’s warm, I taste it on my wrist, and for the grace of some deity it’s at the perfect temperature.
Jay helped the first few nights, because I wasn’t able to do anything. He was calm, handling everything between one yawnand the next, and at the same time teaching me how to be a dad. I’ll be forever grateful for what he’s done for me, for us.
I can’t believe it’s been just over a week that we’ve known each other, because he slipped into my life on tiptoes as if he’s always been part of it. Even now he keeps asking before we go to our rooms if he can help. While I want to say yes all the time because of the stress that caring for Arianna on my own puts me through, I also love having her all for myself.
By the time I settle on the chair in the room, Arianna’s screams have softened into tired hiccups.
I press the bottle to her tiny mouth, and the silence spreads through the house, interrupted only by her powerful suctions. Arianna drinks greedily, her eyes fluttering and her hands gripping the bottle as if she’s afraid it’ll be taken away.
I stare at her small, relaxed and perfect face, her lashes still damp from her tears, and her mouth, so similar to Halia’s, working at an even pace. I use one of my fingers to caress her nose, just a little tilted up, and she stops sucking for a moment as if deciding whether my touch is disturbing her or not.
I would give everything to have Halia here, so she could enjoy this moment with us. Enjoy the smell of talc and milk, enjoy the weight on her arm, enjoy the small sounds she’s emitting while hungrily drinking her bottle. How many things is Halia going to miss, and in losing her I gained something precious. Something I’m going to defend with my life.
All at once, a bone-deep exhaustion spread through me, mixed with something I’m afraid to call joy. I’ve never been so tired, and I’ve never been so needed.
Jay sleeping in the other room fills my mind, and for a moment I wish he was here to tell me that I can lean on him and that everything’s going to be fine.
I have this nagging feeling that something is coming, but I’m not sure if it’s just my anxiety or if my guts are talking to me.
When I brought Jay home I thought I was saving him, but now I’m not sure who’s doing the saving. What I wonder sometimes is how someone can feel like home.
When the bottle is empty, I rock Arianna for a while, exhausted but too emotional to let her go so soon. When her finger wraps around mine I swallow hard. “Baby girl, we’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out. And if we can’t, Jay will tell us what to do.”
I place the bottle on the bedside table, and stand so I can put Arianna down. Then I sit again on the chair, looking at her and thinking how lucky I am. I never thought I could think or say something like that, but in this now quiet room, with Jay sleeping in the other one, this house finally feels like a home.
Unable to go back to sleep, I walk to the kitchen, in need of a glass of water. I rub my eyes, trying to dissipate the exhaustion caused by the sleepless nights that babies bring with them.
I spot Jay leaning on the sink, his hair a mess but perfect for his face.
Under the moonlight Jay looks like an angel.
An angel I want to make mine.
CHAPTER 14
Jay
Ispent the afternoon in my room trying to get in touch with Jeremy, without any success. Until finally just before bed he sent me a message saying he’s good, and that he just needs time.
In need of hearing his voice before I fall asleep, I blast his phone with calls, but calling doesn’t convince him to answer.
Leaving him a few days to cool down is the only option, but I’m close to chasing him down so we can talk without interruptions.
