Page 119 of Puck them

“You’d really get married just like that?” Davina asks.

Oh my sweet summer child.

“I have a ring,” I tell her. “Rhodes and Skylar proposed two weeks ago. The only thing keeping me from walking down the aisle has been planning it. This way, I’m saved from being presented with fifty different types of flowers and cakes. I honestly can’t tell you how much getting married isn’t an issue. If there’s a sensitivity class your department gives for working with different types of families, I suggest you take a refresher course. This energy you keep giving me for being a man living with men is getting very old.”

Davina is silent, but I can practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.

“Fine,” she says. “Lenora is at Trinity Hospital. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

My hand finds the keys to the Jeep in my pocket, and I begin running toward the exit.

“I’ll see you then,” I say. “Thank you, Davina.”

“Fly your mother out tomorrow, Mr. Jeffries. This baby will need as much community as possible,” she says, hanging up on me.

Since my phone is still in my hand, I text my group chat with the guys to tell them what’s going on.

Me

I’m headed to Trinity Hospital to see a little girl who is now an orphan. Davina wants to place her with us but we need to get married. Oh, and I need a car seat for babies. Can you get me one?

Skylar

Woah. Yes to all of that. Fishman is still living in Lakeview, it’ll be faster for him to bring you one. We’ll wrap this up and leave the party for our board members to collect the checks.

Rhodes

Oh no. A baby and a wedding. How ever will I celebrate the best day ever?! Be careful driving, we’ll order a crib online and meet you at the hospital. I’ll ask Alfonso to give us a ride there. Love you!

I gotEdna to track down Alfonso before our playoff games to offer him and his brother tickets. Ever since, he’s offered to drive us on the rare day we need a ride. As I told Davina, a little kindness goes a long way.

The drive to the hospital passes by in a whirlwind, and I make the dash in my fancy shoes across the parking lot to the front doors where the social worker is waiting for me.

Her brows raise as she sees I’m in a full tux, but she doesn’t say anything as she gets me a visitor pass and leads me to the fourth floor. Lenora is in a nursery, and I can see by the name on the bassinet that she’s screaming bloody murder.

Someone isnothappy.

Davina speaks with a nurse, and she explains that the baby hasn’t been wanting to take a bottle. I offer to help, and they give me a robe type of garment to both protect the baby and my clothes before bringing me inside the nursery. The nurse gets me settled into a chair and brings Lenora to me.

The baby’s face is flushed from crying, and her brown eyes are puffy as well.

“Hi, sweet girl. Are you hungry?” I ask, glancing at the nurse who is preparing a bottle. “I know, it sucks huh? Your tummy is all rumbly, your blood sugar is tanking, and I bet your little head hurts? Goodness, it’s so tough being a baby, huh?”

Taking the bottle from the nurse, I continue to speak to Lenora as I rub the nipple of the bottle over her lips. A little milk drips onto them, and she flicks out her tongue suspiciously.

“It’s not poison, I swear,” I tease her.

“You talk to her like she’s a person,” Davina says, watching me.

“That’s what she is,” I retort. “What’s it gonna be, sweet girl? Do we like the taste of milk? Ah, and there we go. It tastes yummy, doesn’t it?”

I keep her elevated in my arms as I feed her the bottle, and lean back in the rocking chair as I continue to talk to her. Lenora’s dark eyes remain on mine the entire time, as if she’s memorizing every word I say to her.

Her eyes get heavy as she begins to finish the bottle, and I smile softly as she releases the nipple on it. I keep it close by in case she decides she wasn’t done, while making sure it doesn’t drip on her. I carry the one sided conversation effortlessly, which is funny because I hate small talk.

Lenora relaxes as she sleeps, and the nurse quietly claps.

“You’re a natural,” she says, taking the bottle so I can slowly adjust the baby.

“I’m sure I’ll stumble eventually,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off Lenora.

“And as you so eloquently told me, when you do, your pack will help you back up,” Davina says. “I’ll get the paperwork in order for you to take her home. You’ll need a car seat.”

“Someone is bringing one,” I mumble, feeling officially talked out.

The nurse and social worker leave me to bond with Lenora, and I hope one day I’ll be able to call her our daughter.