“Trust me doll, the last time I brought somebody home was when Justin Timberlake was still dating Britney. Besides, the men I get involved with like to keep personal space exactly that—personal. I swear I pick the wrong men.”
“You and Vicky both.”
“Uh, no . . . Vicky has dated some gorgeous creatures. She just won’t settle down with one instead of pining for that married loser Patrick.”
The door opens and Vicky appears with a shopping bag and Haden behind her.
So, here’s the thing. Since I’ve been back home (all seven days), Haden has come over every day. When I told him he didn’t have to, mainly because I knew how exhausted he was, he got offended and ranted on about parental rights. Jerk. And so he’s now formed his own groove on the couch, and I may have even seen an extra toothbrush hanging around in the bathroom. It’s like a goddamn zoo in here sometimes, but secretly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Standing behind Vicky, he is armed with what look like pizza boxes . . . oh the smell. I know I should start to get rid of this baby weight, but who can resist the smell of melted cheese?
“I got pizza, and yes . . . it’s that fatty cheese you girls want.”
“What a gentleman!” Kate roars.
“Eloise would kill me for getting anything but low-fat sheep cheese.”
“You mean goat cheese.” I laugh.
“Yeah, whatever.”
The four of us dig in while Kate turns on the TV. We get stuck watching some game show and we argue over the answers. If not for them bringing me down with their silly answers, I would have won a million dollars and a brand new car by now.
On cue, upon finishing my slice, Masen begins to squirm in the rocker beside me. I go to pick him up, placing him over my shoulder and patting his back gently. Last night he was extremely unsettled and didn’t want to feed, so of course, I barely slept.
“No offense Pres, but you look like hell,” Vicky says, taking Masen off me only to have Haden immediately take him out of her arms.
“Baby won’t sleep and Mommy would love a shower.”
“Go shower,” Haden commands.
I’m not going to say no to that; I’m desperate to feel like myself again. I stand up, sore in all the wrong places, and begin to make my way to the bathroom.
“Oh wait! So you know how you were talking to me about how your nipples were bleeding from feeding?” Vicky rummages through her purse, unaware that she just embarrassed me in front of everyone.
“Um . . . yes, but you didn’t really need to broadcast it.”
Haden snickers, his head down and a grin on his face.
“Ta-da! The Mexican nipple hat!”
She produces this small box, and lo and behold, it does look like a Mexican hat . . . for my nipples.
“Where on earth . . . ?”
“I Googled your problem, spoke to some moms at my Pilates class, and found them at the drugstore.”
“I’m not sure whether to laugh at you or hug you.”
“I think you’ll be hugging me when your nipples aren’t tugged like a milked cow.”
I head to the shower, shaking my head at her. Inside the bathroom, I carefully take off my clothes. My boobs are sore, veins popping. I decide to feed him and release the pressure after a quick shower. With my incision on the mend, I wash myself as instructed. I wrap a towel around myself after briefly drying my hair, leaving it damp. When I head back to the room, Haden is sitting on my bed with Masen.
“You feel better?”
He doesn’t look my way when he asks and I feel practically naked standing here in a towel. He has no concept of personal space and hangs out in my room every time he comes here.
“Yes, a million times better. Probably better if I get some clothes on in private . . .”