“I can’t check on my kid?”
“Not when it’s two in the morning.”
“Please?” This time, my voice is softer. Maybe if she hears me pleading, it’ll make her want to help.
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
If I could see her, I know she’d be rolling her eyes at me.
“I love you, Gran.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Light spills out from her opening the door. “You know, in my day, we didn’t have these fancy contraptions to let you see your baby when they were sleeping.”
“Did they have electricity then?” I ask her.
“I should whoop your ass for that comment and hang up right now.”
“Hey, you volunteered to do this,” I point out.
“Did I? I don’t recall that.”
“Pretty sure you said you’d help when you moved in.”
“It’s too early to remember what I agreed to,” she whispers. I can see her in Caleb’s room, a casual flip of her middle finger sent to the camera.
“Real mature, Gran.”
“If you wanted mature, you would’ve called Stevie.”
“Is he okay?” I ask. “The sooner you answer me, the sooner you can hang up.”
“He’s fine.”
“Fine as in still breathing?”
She huffs. “Yes. He is fine. I’m going back to bed.”
Ending the call, she cuts me an evil glare through the monitor and leaves his room.
Fuck. Is this what being a parent is like? Constant dread and worry? Maybe it’ll get easier with each road trip.
But what if something happens while I’m gone?
Would Stevie think I’m ridiculous if I call her tomorrow night? Probably not. She’d go check on him, let me know how he’s doing, and that’d be the end of it.
No middle fingers or argument.
Now I wish I was able to call and talk to her. She’s only been with us a couple of months, but it’s like she’s been in my life so much longer. I never realized how nice it would be to have someone like her around.
She’s gorgeous. A knockout, really. But it pales in comparison to how big her heart is. She’s seen me at my worst and didn’t turn away.
Her soft smiles and warm glances are what keep me going on the hard days. She makes me feel like I can do this whole parenting thing.
Fuck.
Now I really shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Because the memory of running into her in the hallway, in just a towel no less, is living rent free in my head even after all this time.
And not just my head…
