Closing the door firmly behind me, I close my eyes, breathing deeply for a few moments, trying to center myself. Then I wrench open the drawer and sort madly through all the junk collected in them. No luck. No earplugs to be found.
Dashing upstairs, I check both bathrooms up there too, finding nothing.Shit, shit, shit.
Well, I guess I’ll need to use other coping strategies until the baby calms down, which will hopefully be soon. I’m sure it will be fine. Surely babies can’t cry for two hours straight, can they?
Chapter 22
REED
Idon’tknowexactlywhere he’s going when Dylan scoots down the hall to the bathroom like his ass is on fire, but I’m tempted to join him. Instead, I stay where I am and continue chatting, although it’s gotten a little harder with the addition of a screaming baby. I’m stunned to admit it, but I’m actually having a great time so far.
Grace and her husband do not look like they’re coping well with their new baby. Granted, I don’t know many new parents, but the few I do know never looked quite as awful as these two. It’s worrisome, and I wonder if I should check in with them as a doctor to make sure they’re getting the care they need, but I don’t want to overstep. Grace seems determined to make the best of things, a bright smile plastered to her face—even if it does look a little unnatural.
Blowing out a deep sigh, Dylan returns and sits down beside me. Thankfully, the decibel level is a bit lower; at least we can’t hear the baby screaming anymore, so hopefully Linda was able to get him to sleep.
“You okay?” I ask when Dylan returns.
“I’m fine, but I forgot my earplugs,” he says, looking worried.
“Do you want to go and get a pair somewhere?”
He shakes his head nervously.
“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be okay. We can always leave right after dinner if we need to. My family knows I don’t deal well with chaos.”
Reaching over to grab his hand, I give him an encouraging smile. “Okay, just let me know when you want to leave.”
“Thanks, Reed,” he says with a grateful smile.
“My sister looks terrible,” he whispers a few minutes later, concern written all over his face.
“Having a baby can really kick your ass,” I say. “It’s a big adjustment.”
Before Dylan can reply, a loud scream comes from the direction of the den. “Great news. Sounds like Kellan is awake again,” he whispers, and I have to take a drink to cover my smile.
Grace lurches to her feet, pasting that weird smile on her face again as she heads for the den. “Duty calls,” she says brightly, but her expression doesn’t match her teasing tone of voice.
As Grace disappears into the den, Linda appears in the living room. She and Grace look a lot alike, but unfortunately for Grace, at the moment, Linda could be mistaken for the younger sister. “Okay, everyone, dinner is ready,” she says. “Bob is just finishing plating the bird, so come and get it.”
The big table in their great room is loaded with delicious-looking side dishes, and the smell of turkey is mouthwatering. Bob is at the opposite counter, finishing up with the turkey.
Dylan’s cousin Sam holds his knife and fork in his two hands, banging them on the table like a toddler. “We want tur-key, we want tur-key,” he chants, earning himself an eye roll from his mother.
“Samuel, you shush,” Linda admonishes him. My chest warms as I enjoy being surrounded by a loving family for the first time in a very long time.
Just then, I notice a little brown ball of fur on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. The tiny dog is sitting on a small silk pillow with pink bows on it.
“Oh my gosh,” I laugh. “I didn’t realize you had a Pomeranian.” I walk over to scratch the tiny little dog under her chin.
“Oh, that’s Princess. She’s not ours,” Linda says. “We’re dog sitting for friends this week. She’s a sweet little dog.”
“I kept telling Linda that this wasn’t a great week to have the dog since we were having a houseful today, but I have to admit, she’s been no trouble at all,” Bob says over his shoulder.
I walk back to the table and sit beside Dylan, placing my hand on his knee. Mason and Jackson are sitting across from us, laughing softly together; Sam is calling out teasing remarks to his uncle to hurry things up; and his parents, Greg and Alanna, are chatting with Linda at the other end of the table. It’s a comfortable din. Dylan is smiling too. “Noise levels a little better?” I whisper, and he nods.
“Yeah, thank god. This whole evening could be an advertisement for birth control though. I’m not sure I could deal with something that small that makes so much noise for such a long time.”
I’m about to respond that I feel the same way as Bob turns away from the counter, his hands full with the huge platter of turkey. He’s got a big smile on his face as he starts toward the table. But before he gets there, Grace steps into the room, and right on cue, baby Kellan lets out an earsplitting scream. Before anyone can react, Princess lets out a terrified-sounding yap and takes off from her little silk pillow, heading straight for Bob’s feet. After that, everything seems to move in slow motion. The smile on Bob’s face turns to surprise as he takes a step forward and realizes he’s about to step on the tiny dog. Instinctively, he yanks his foot back, but the heavy turkey platter has messed with his balance, and he starts to wobble. Off to my side, I can see Linda shoot forward off her chair in a crouch, possibly to grab the dog out of the way. Bob must see his wife coming, which causes him to lose his balance trying to avoid her. Sam jumps out of his chair to steady his uncle, but by this point, it’s all too late. The die is cast, and Bob is going down. His eyes grow comically huge, and for a second, he looks like a circus clown trying to do one of those old plate-balancing tricks, where they stagger around trying to prevent this huge stack of plates from falling. But there’s no stopping it. Bob falls backward, instinctively using his hands to try and cushion his fall, which of course means letting go of the turkey platter. Both turkey and platter fly up into the air and then hit the ground. The turkey lands a split second before the platter and slides across the kitchen floor, coming to rest underneath the kitchen table, while the platter crashes down and shatters into about a million pieces. Bob hits the floor with a thud, letting out a loud grunt. The turkey lies helplessly on the floor under the kitchen table, and Princess has wasted no time getting over to it. The tiny dog is standing on her back legs, with the front two braced against the turkey itself as she leans in, helping herself to bite after bite of the perfectly cooked bird.