I am changed. I don’t think I was ever a bad person, I’m just different now. I hope a little better of a person, too. I know I have a hell of a lot more patience.
I hear Lindsey’s footsteps, and I turn as she walks into the room. Frankie is strapped in his car seat while his mother lists to the right from the weight on one side. She and the baby are car shopping today, and they’re waiting for Jim. Their “friendship” seems to be heading in a more serious direction, but it’s none of my business.
“What kind of car are you going to look at?” I take the car seat from her and sit with Frankie on the couch until Jim arrives and the three of them will head out in the Cadillac. It already has the other part of the car seat strapped in the back, and, well, it’s more reliable than the Malibu.
“I have my eye on a few different Subarus that are top safety picks by Car and Driver magazine.”
Frankie is wearing his “Ladies’ Man” onesie and socks that are too big. His sleeping cheek rests against his neck pillow.
“Hey, baby.” I run my finger across the back of his chubby little hand. “Do you think he needs a haircut?”
“Oh, no. His hair is too beautiful to cut.”
He is beautiful and I love him so much—enough to make me think I hear the faint tick of my biological clock. “You could put it in a man bun.” Since he came home from the hospital, his thick hair has gotten wavy, and his pink skin has tanned up. With each passing day, he looks more and more like his mom.
“That’s crazy.”
“No.” I point to Frankie’s head. “That’s crazy. It’s even growing down his forehead. I had a widow’s peak, and it’s not fun.” As if he hears me, he sticks out his tongue in his sleep. “See?”
“He could totally rock a widow’s peak.”
I chuckle as I hear the sound of a car parking in front of the house. It’s Simon’s white truck, not Jim’s Malibu, and it isn’t stopping just long enough to let Jimmy out.
I haven’t seen Simon since Mom’s funeral. For some reason, when he walks into the house with Jimmy, I feel like smiling. I guess that means I’m not mad at him anymore.
“I haven’t met this guy,” he says, and heads straight for the baby next to me.
“I told ja he has da hands of a football playa. ‘Who Dat.’?”
Simon bends down on one knee to get a better look. “Un petite cochon.”
“Talk about.”
At least Jim knows what Simon just “talk about.”
Simon lifts his gaze to mine. “How are you doing, Lou Ann?”
Lou Ann? What happened to “tee Lou Ann” or “tee Lou” or “cher”? “I’m good. How have you been?”
“Good. Busy.” He points to Frankie. “How’s life with the ladies’ man, here?”
“Better now that he sleeps.” I look up as Lindsey walks toward me and says, “I don’t know when we’ll be back.” She picks up the car seat. “Do you want me to pick up anything for you while we’re out and about?”
“No, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay, but call if you think of something,” she says as she heads out of the library.
“Hold up a minute, Jimmy.” Simon stands and waits until Lindsey and the baby are on the front porch. He takes Jim aside and talks to him, but I can’t understand a word either of them says. I can gather it’s about Lindsey and the baby, and things get a little heated when Jim raises his voice and angrily leaves the room.
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll calm down.” Simon sits next to me and watches Jim through the window. “He just didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”
“About?”
“About playing at being a daddy. It’s all fun and games now, but if he’s not real sure this is what he wants, he needs to walk away before that baby gets used to him in his life.”
“It sounded as if he didn’t like your advice.”