Beth
Are you sure you don’t mind watching Robbie today?” Jo said when she dropped him off at the farmhouse in the morning.
“Of course not,” I assured her.
“I packed his lunch. But you can give him whatever you’re eating. Cut up, of course. He’s not picky.”
My stomach contracted. I nodded. “Don’t worry.”
“I only... I just need one day to write without any distractions, you know? And Eric has to meet with suppliers all day, and Alec had to go back for finals, and I’msofar behind with this book.”
“I know.”
“I thought things would settle down after the wedding.”
“It was a beautiful wedding,” I said.
“It was.” Jo beamed at me over her baby. “Thank you for singing.”
I ducked my head. “It was Colt’s idea.”
“It was your song.”
“What did you think of him?” I asked shyly.
“Colt? I didn’t really get a chance to spend much time with him.” Jo glanced at me. “He sure likes being onstage.”
“He’s a wonderful performer.”
“Right.” She set Robbie down, and he toddled off to play in the hay. “When do you go back on tour?”
“Um, I’m not sure? Colt says... He thinks I need a rest.”
“Yeah, running after a toddler all day is super restful.”
“It will be fun,” I said.
And it was.
We played all morning. Robbie was absorbed by everything, completely in the moment, climbing and jumping off hay bales, stomping in puddles by the water trough, breaking into contagious giggles at the baby goats.
I fed him lunch from his little thermal bag. Jo had packed containers of grated cheese, diced melon, and blanched snap peas along with a packet of German teething crackers. I arranged everything carefully on his tray, admiring the pretty colors, the different textures.
Whatever you’re eating, Jo had said.
A shadow fell. Maybe I should add more protein. I found some leftover chicken in the fridge and shredded it for him. Robbie dug in, drooling and smiling his wide, nine-toothed smile. Clearly, I was an amazing aunt.
He offered me his cracker, and I gobbled the air by his fist. “Nom nom.”
He giggled and held out the cracker again. More smacking noises. More peals of laughter. I laughed back, relaxed. Unguarded.
And then he mashed the cracker against my mouth.Gack.
Although... It didn’t taste terrible, actually. A little bland, like sweet toast. The crackers probably weren’t even that bad for you. I mean, they were made for babies. And I was so hungry. I ate another one as I washed Robbie’s face and hands. Finished the pack as I wipeddown his high chair. I shoved them quickly into my mouth, not thinking, not tasting them, even, hiding the wrapper in the trash.
After lunch, I sat with him on the braided rug in front of the fireplace, singing “Baa Baa Black Sheep,” “Old MacDonald,” and “Itsy Bitsy Spider” while Robbie bounced and clapped.
“More?” I asked.
