I realized I was still standing in the foyer. So much for women being able to multitask.
I went to sit on the couch. “Why am I still holding him?”
“Because it wouldn’t be very nice to stick him on the floor now, would it?”
“I meant, why aren’tyouholding him?”
“Because I have a kitchen to clean up and laundry to do.” She slapped a dishtowel over her shoulder. “If you’d prefer switching tasks—”
“No. That’s fine.” She started to turn when I sputtered, “But what do I do now? Does he need to be burped?”
“Not at nine months. Once he’s done drinking, he’ll probably go down for a nap.”
And he did. He passed out still latched onto the bottle. I went over to the crib to put him down but the moment I laid him inside, his lids sprang open in time with his mouth, so I scooped him up and held him until his lids slammed home.
Instead of placing him back in the crib, I toed off my boots and sprawled onto the couch, then kicked my legs up and let Liam’s baby sleep-drool over my chest while I dozed off myself.
Chapter 5
Napping together must’ve created a bond between Storm and me, because after he woke up, he threw me a whole collection of smiles. Mom brought up cases of our old toys, which she’d kept in pristine condition, and although she sat down and played with him, she kept needing to go do something or other, making me the primary caretaker.
Mom was the sort of person who put aside everything and was a hundred percent present when someone needed her, which led me to believe her comings and goings were orchestrated. My guess: entrapment by baby. If I was stuck babysitting, I couldn’t creep off the compound. My mother was smart like that. Some may even call her devious.
“Okay.” I was on all fours beside Storm, poised for our crawling race. “When I say go—”
Storm burst out laughing.
I grinned. “You think it’s funny now. Wait till I leave you in my dust. So, as I was saying, Storm, when I say GO.”
He burst out laughing again.
Ha. It was the word that set him off. “You really like the wordgo.” I emphasized it on purpose.
He laughed so hard he actually tipped over onto the rug.
“Whoa there, little man. You all right?” After I ensured he was okay, I chuckled.
He grew very serious.
“Go.”
He cracked up, legs and arms wriggling like he was doing the backstroke.
“You’re really something, aren’t you?”
Serious face.
“Go.”
The laughter that burst out of him was mesmerizing. No wonder Mom had never wanted to stop making babies.
“We’re never going to get to that ball if you don’t stop cracking up when I say the word.”
“Talking about this ball?” Liam’s voice made me look up so fast my neck cracked. He was crouched and tossing the red plastic ball from hand to hand.
As I sat back on my heels, Storm flipped over and crawled at lightning speed, dormant wolf genes already strong. He gripped his father’s thigh and tugged himself upright, repeating a litany of, “Dadadadada.”
Liam swung him into his arms and stood. “Missed you too, kiddo.”
