I sigh. He really has adjusted to the notion of fatherhood quite quickly.
An hour later, we’re both in hats and sunglasses at the drugstore. I suggested hats and sunglasses in case we’re recognized while buying a pregnancy test. I don’t need this leaked to the media.
Daylen has placed every pregnancy test in the store in our basket. I stare at him. “I don’t think we need thirty of them.”
“We want to be sure.”
“I don’t think I could possibly pee enough to manage all these tests.”
“I can pee on some of them,” he offers. “We’re a team, right?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I hope this kid has my personality, not yours.”
He chuckles, but I stare at the overflowing basket with my hands on my hips and disapproval written all over my face.
He scrunches his nose. “Fine. We don’t need all of these.” He then places one of them back on the shelf. One.
We head to the cashier, and he hands her the basket. She smiles at him. “Will this be all, sir?”
He shakes his head and deadpans, “No, I just wanted to show you what I’ve got so far.”
Her face falls in confusion.
I interrupt, “Ignore him. He thinks he’s a comedian. This will be all, thank you.”
We get in his car to drive back toward his house, which happens to be unexpectedly nice. I was shocked when I went there today.
“Why do you have such a big house?” I ask while he’s driving. “You’re a single man.”
“I’m not single, I’m a married man, but yes, I bought it while single. I had a place in the city, but then I got BJ. She was antsy being cooped up in an apartment all day. She needs space. The house has a doggie door and a huge backyard. Now she can come and go as she pleases and run around out back when I’m not home. She’s got a lot of energy, like her daddy.”
“What do you do with her when you go on road trips?”
“I told you before. I have Chef Benny. He takes care of the house and the dog. He also does a lot of grocery shopping and meal prep for me. I should call him. He needs to start meal prepping for you to ensure you’re eating a healthy diet. If you give me a list of things you do and don’t like, I’ll give it to him.”
“You have a butler?”
He turns to me. “You have an intern.”
“True, but I don’t even pay him yet. Though I’m giving him a few bucks starting soon.”
“Benny isn’t a butler. He’s more of a…household manager.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s modern-day nomenclature for butler.”
He smiles.
“What’s so amusing?”
“That was a big word. I told you our kid will be smart.”
I lean my head back on my headrest and admit, “I learned that word from Harper last week. She’s smarter than me and she’s nine years old.”
He chuckles. “I love that kid. I hope we get one just like her. We should use the same word of the day toilet paper she has. It works.” He then rattles off about a million other things he wants us to do for this child. He’s making my head hurt, planning our future. I don’t even know what I’m having for dinner tonight, let alone what school system my kid will be in, which apparently Daylen has now mapped out.
“Daylen,” I plead, “please slow down.”
He looks at the speedometer. “Oh shit, you’re right. Precious cargo on board. See, I told you that you’d be a good protector.”
