“That’s not a possibility,” I said, more firmly than I’d intended. “She’s going back to Amanda, whether that girl likes it or not.”
Jaz petted Gretchen’s head, and the baby gurgled contentedly. “But…” she started. “Well… even if you don’t want Gretchen, it doesn’t exactly sound like Amanda is the most stable person. I don’t even mean you not being able to find her. I’m talking about her dropping this kid at your door before the umbilical cord’s even fallen off.”
My back straightened, and I set my beer down on the coffee table. “So what?”
“I’m just saying, she may not be the most fit to be a mother.” She grimaced, clearly implying I should keep the infant I’d never wanted. “It’s a shame the baby’s father isn’t in the picture.”
“When I get in touch with her, I’ll find out who he is. He should be paying child support at the very least.” I softened into the armchair, letting its soft plush hug me. “Really, it’s amazing Amanda got this far without this happening.”
Having said all there was to say on the matter, I glanced at my watch. It was six now, which probably meant Gretchen should eat. She seemed to do that constantly.
I got up. “I’ll heat up some formula.”
“I’ll change her diaper.”
Jaz followed me into the kitchen and laid a towel on the table without asking. Not that there was much of anywhere else to do it, but it didn’t seem the most hygienic.
With a sigh, I decided to wipe it down later. Disinfectant—one more thing for the neverending new-baby-owner shopping list.
Although we were both occupied with our tasks, Jaz didn’t take the opportunity to shut up. “You know, I’ve never used a baby-changing station before,” she said, sanitizing her hands. “It was pretty easy to figure out, though.”
“Doesn’t seem too hard,” I snorted. “I’m sure I’d handle it fine if I ever need to.”
“And I’m sure you will need to, considering…”
I slammed the microwave door shut. “Not my baby.”
“I know, I know. Sorry.”
She had her hands full with Gretchen, and I reminded myself again of what a favor she was doing me. Even my own mother, this kid’s grandmother, wouldn’t do this much for the baby.
My friends would help me, if I ever got over my pride enough to ask for assistance. But I doubted they’d offer more than a few hours of babysitting here and there. Jaz’s immediate readiness to take on a full-day commitment was something completely different.
I leaned against the wall while I waited for the microwave to do its work. “So how’d Gretchen deal with the mall?”
She fastened the clean diaper around Gretchen’s bottom. “I think the noise frightened her a little.”
She was about to go on when a knock came at the door. My brow furrowed, and I tensed.
“Are you expecting someone?” Jaz asked.
I forced a smile. “No. Let’s ignore it.”
“Why? It doesn’t have to be some Mormon missionary just because you don’t know who it is. Can you really not think of anyone who might be at your door right now?”
I could, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. Even if we’d almost been having a nice chat, my personal life was absolutely none of her business, especially when it came to who I assumed was at the door
.
“It might be Amanda,” she said. “Let’s go see.” When I only glared in response, she grabbed Gretchen off the table. “If you don’t want to open it, I will.”
I gritted my teeth. This fucking busybody… “Leave it alone, Jaz. It’s fine.”
She didn’t seem to be listening, so I raced after her… just not fast enough to keep her from opening the door.
The welcoming smile on her face disappeared as she saw the visitor was neither my sister nor a white-shirted missionary. I hung behind her, bracing myself for the shitshow that was about to happen.
“Who are you?” Jaz asked the woman who stood in the doorway.