“We’re really doing this,” I say quietly.
She nods. “Yeah, we are.”
When everything’s finally ready, the nurse wheels us toward the exit. I buckle Baby Kendrick into the car seat with shaking hands, double-checking every strap like my life depends on it. She looks obnoxiously small in the carseat.
Violet claps her hands. “Okay. If you need anything, literally anything, I will buy it. I love baby shopping.”
Walker nods. “She’s serious.”
“I’m so serious,” she says. “I’ve been waiting for someone to have a baby for me to spoil.”
I look down at the baby one more time, her tiny chest rising and falling, and something settles deep in me.
We’re taking her home. I don’t know her name yet. I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. But I know that she’s ours.
“Alright, let me get the hot dad walk on video,” Violet says,holding up her phone as I pick up the carrier to head downstairs to the warm truck.
“What’s a hot dad walk?” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Just carry her down to the car.” Violet winks, and Poppy laughs.
“I am not thinking of my brother like a hot dad,” Cami grunts.
“I think he’s a hot dad.” Poppy grins.
I wink at her.
“DILF,” she mouths and winks back.
“Gross.” Cami pretends to throw up.
Poppy follows as I hook the carrier under my arm, and we walk to the elevator. My mom is at the nurses’ station watching, and she narrows her eyes at us. I turn and look straight ahead. She’s not ruining our day. She gets no attention.
We get home, and everything is hauled up to our tiny apartment, which is comical. It’s a lot of stuff and covers the entire space. Diaper boxes are stacked in the hallway, baby gear all over the living room, and piled up in the corner of our room next to the bassinet Walker has put together. Jack meets us there and helps unpack. “Man, I was in meetings all day, and when I finally check my phone, you have a whole ass kid?”
I shrug. “Apparently. She’s pretty darn cute, though.”
Jack stares down at her. “Yeah, she sure is.”
Poppy and Owen are sitting on the couch, and there’s a knock at the door. Maggie opens it and says, “Dinner’s here!”
Cash, the manager from The Black Dog, brings in bags and takes out carriers of food and sets it on the kitchen counters.
“Congrats, man,” he says, clapping my back. “I gotta get back to the bar, but Walker wanted me to drop off dinner.”
I stare at the Army-level spread of food and try not to laugh. It looks like we’re feeding a small army, not two exhaustedadults, a hungry middle school boy, and a baby the size of a loaf of bread.
“You’ve already done so much for us,” Poppy says. “But thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Walker tells her, deadly serious. “You’ve added a whole new human to your household. You need fuel.”
Everyone filters out, giving us space, and suddenly it’s just us at the table. The baby is asleep in the middle, like she called a board meeting, and we attended like her faithful peasants.
We start eating. Then we… stare at her.
Poppy murmurs, “I don’t remember Owen being that small.”
I nod. “Yeah, she could fit in a bread basket.”
