Usually I’d bring him to my bed, with her here, that’s not possible. But I don’t have to leave him. She walks out before I have a chance to say anything. We go over to the chair where I used to feed him, and I lift the blanket, sitting down and wrapping it around us. The book he loves is within reach so I grabthat.
As I read, he makes little noises, sometimes he says the words but after a while, his eyes drift shut again. I keep reading until I know he’s asleep, carefully setting the book down.
Fuck that was one of the scariest moments I’ve ever experienced. The shit I’ve done in my life and this is what nearly broke me.
If it was safe I’d hold him like this all night but the risk of falling asleep and dropping him scares me more than not holding him. He goes down in the crib and rolls over without a care in the world and I lean over and stroke his hair.
It’s going to take me a long time to get those images out of my head. Sitting down beside the crib, I watch him, no idea how much time goes by.
When I’m sure he is okay, I get up and head back down to my room. Taylor is in my bed and I stand in the doorway and watch her. If she wasn’t here tonight, I could have made everything worse.
How do I not know how to deal with this? What kind of father am I? My phone is on the night stand so I sit and pick it up, searching for night terrors. Everything Taylor told me to do is the right way to deal with this. If anyone else had told me how to take care of my son, I would have told them to get the fuck out.
“Is he okay?” Taylor rolls over and her hand touches my back.
“Sleeping.”
After a beat, she asks, “do you want me to go?”
“No,” I set the phone down and turn around to her. She is still wearing one of my T-shirts which she must have grabbed when she followed me to Oscar’s room. “Everything you said… If you weren’t here.”
“You would have dealt with it,” she reassures me. “You’re his dad, he would have eventually come out of it.”
“You said he wouldn’t recognize me.”
“He would have, he knows your scent, your voice and that you bring him comfort. It might have taken longer than normal but you wouldn’t have hurt him, Noah.”
How the fuck she knew those are my thoughts… I shake my head, not that I don’t agree with her, she’s right. She’s amazing. She slides back as I get into the bed but I move toward her, dragging her into my side.
There are no more words, just emotions I’m not used to. Her hand gently strokes over my chest and after a moment, I take it in mine and hold it still over my heart, which eventually slows to a normal beat.
Sleep is a long time coming and I spend most of it staring down at her. It might be wrong to let her get under my skin but it’s too late to stop it. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.
She finds us downstairs in the morning, hovering in the doorway in my T-shirt and a pair of my shorts. I’m hardly going to complain about it, given her clothes are in the corner down here.
Oscar looks over at her. “Who dat?” he asks.
I can’t help the smile. “This is my friend, Ch.. Taylor.” I correct myself and wink at her. “Taylor this Oscar.”
Those words sound really fucking foreign but Taylor comes over and crouches down, reaching out a hand. Oscar stares at it, then lifts his and she gently shakes.
“Nice to meet you, Oscar. And who is this?”
“Oscar Two.”
“His name is Oscar as well.
“Oscar Two,” he repeats.
“As in Oscar number two,” I explain. Taylor smiles and nods.
“Have you had breakfast?” she asks and I shake my head.
I’ve been too busy practically smothering him, to the point he told me to back off. That made me laugh. He’s been listening to me and Jesse too much. “I’ll make some pancakes,” I start to get up.
Taylor tells me not to, to stay with Oscar while she makes them. Something about this is oddly welcome, but foreign too. She heads off to the kitchen and starts looking for the things she needs. What should be happening is me telling her to go, instead I make sure Oscar is okay and walk into the kitchen.
“I’ll leave when they’re ready,” she says. “I needed to get my clothes.”
