I look between the two men, who seem to be exchanging words that are silent to the female ear. I think this is the part of West Side Story when they start snapping and walking towards each other. Why, I have absolutely no idea.
“Okay, well. Thanks, Calvin,” I interrupt the awkward exchange.
He turns to me and nods. “Anytime.” He looks briefly past me and then down to Willow. “See you soon, Will.” He stretches out one arm, and I pause like an idiot—not realising he was inviting me into a side-hug. I lunge forward, and our bodies awkwardly meet. We pull away, giggling softly. “All right, well, I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah!” I answer a little too eagerly.
“Nice to meet you.” Calvin waves to Warren, who raises a hand before shoving it deep into his jeans pocket.
“Bye,” I say as I move the suitcase away from the door and let it shut. I turn and notice that Warren is still leaning in the same spot, looking at me like I have something on my face.
“What?” I huff.
“Who isthatguy?”
“That guy,” I mimic his mocking tone, “is Calvin. Willow’s nurse and my… friend.”
“Do nurses usually provide a door-to-door service, or is that reserved for the hotter single guardians?” His grin is teasing, but his voice is deadpan.
I’ll skip over the fact that he called me hot—again—but my heartdoesskip a beat. I choose not to respond to Warren and instead kneel down to take Willow out of her car seat.
I stand and curl Willow into my chest. “Willow, meet Warren. Our grumpiest roommate.”
Just then, Luke pops out of his room. His face beams as he steps quickly towards me. He signs hello a few times and reaches out for Willow’s hand. I look at Warren, who must literally be glued to the floor in order to resist taking a closer look at the world’s cutest baby.
Eventually, he moves to tap Luke on the shoulder.“Let’s clear the hallway. Let Willow see the rest of the apartment.”They filter out into the living room; Warren sinks into the armchair and Luke onto the couch.
I look down at Willow and up at the apartment around me. I have wanted her here for so long—the moment feels surreal. A wave of anxiety passes through me as I realise that what was a team of nurses, paediatricians, cardiologists, and respiratory therapists, is now only me. I’m incredibly unsupervised.
I sit down on the sofa and lay Willow between Luke and me. She is shy of three months, but she is the size of a one-month-old, weighing only ten pounds.
“Can I hold her?”Luke asks. I look at Warren for permission, hoping to avoid another loft incident, and he nods.
“Of course. Remember to support her neck.”I reach down to lift Willow into Luke’s lap.
Luke’s smile widens as he looks down at her in the crook of his arm. He’s a natural. Perhaps he’s had younger foster-siblings before. I glance towards Warren, who watches Luke with a worried expression. I try to meet his eye to reassure him, but he doesn’t look away from them.
After a few minutes, Willow fusses, and Luke tenses before looking at me to take her. I smile and lift her onto my chest, leaning her on me so I can make use of my hands.
“You did great. She’s a little fussy because it is time to eat.”
I move towards the bouncer chair in the corner of the room, placing her gently inside so I can go make a bottle. Taking the formula out of the diaper bag, I get to work in the kitchen. The gurgles and grunts get progressively louder.
Looking back towards Willow, Warren and Luke are nowhere to be seen. My heart sinks. I can’t help but think humans aren’t meant to do this alone. Still, I won’t ask for help—not after Warren’s judgements and comments. I’ll have to do this by myself—but how hard could it be?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I haven’t slept longer than two consecutive hours in weeks. Willow hates sleep. She also hates the bassinet, my bed, her bouncer chair, her play mat. Pretty much everything except my arms.
I didn’t know how good I had it before, when I could lie in bed until my bladder forced me up. I could fall asleep without worrying about not getting at least six hours—even if I stayed up way too late. My body is no longer 80 percent water. It’s now mostly coffee sloshing around in my veins.
I bring Willow’s bouncer chair into the kitchen so I can make my breakfast. She fusses as I bounce the seat with my foot, trying to stretch across the kitchen to find ingredients. I’m out of milk. As well as eggs, bread, cheese, and basically everything else—though I knew that yesterday. I close the fridge and grab a granola bar from Luke’s box on the counter.
Not my finest moment, stealing from a minor, but I’ll pay him back.
The coffee pot fills, and I’ll have to drink it black. I’ve never had the taste for black coffee before, but now I can’t seem to function without it.I make Willow a bottle, and for a desperate second, consider splashing some into my mug.No,I tell myself, you can’t use formula in place of creamer.I bring both of our liquid breakfasts to the couch. Watching the sunrise may be the only perk of guardianship so far.And Willow too… obviously.
Warren’s door opens, and I count the fourteen steps he takes from his room to Luke’s. Same thing every morning. Warren wakes up long before the 7:30 alarm he insists they both set, walks to Luke’s door, opens it, flips the lights on, then waits about twenty seconds before entering. Luke showers while Warren makes them both breakfast, usually cereal or toast and eggs.
