“I…I really appreciate you being here. For Daisy’s sake.”
A moment of silence and then, “My pleasure.”
Daisy drinks and drinks and drinks, and when half the bottle is gone, I put her over my shoulder and tap her back to burp her.
She burps all right—only problem is, she loses half her milk down my back.
“Jesus,” I whisper, as my entire body tightens. “She just threw up on my back.” My hand stills midair. “Wait, am I burping her too hard?” I try to keep the worry from my voice. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No.” Quinn grabs some baby wipes from the plastic container and runs them over my back. “Sometimes babies just have wet burbs. It’s normal.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Give her the rest of her milk, and I’ll get a soapy cloth to clean you.”
I readjust her in my arms and put the bottle in her mouth, but she doesn’t want any more. She turns her head, pushes it away, and her fists are flying.
“Quinn, hurry,” I say, and she comes rushing back in. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know.” She runs the wet cloth over my back, and her hands graze my skin.
“Thanks.” I stand and gently bounce the baby in my arms.
“I wonder if she’s teething, or maybe she’s colicky,” Quinn says.
“Maybe she misses her mom,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe.”
I walk her, and she eventually settles in my arms.
“Let’s put her back in her crib,” Quinn says, and the second I lay her down, she starts crying again. I pick her up quickly and hold her to my bare chest. It seems to settle her.
“Do you have a rocking chair?” Quinn asked.
“No, but I’ll get one tomorrow if you think I need one.”
“I think little Daisy is confused and needs the contact right now. But you can’t stay up and hold her all night.” She peels the comforter from the bed. “Why don’t you try to lay down with her here, keep her close to your body.”
I do as she says, and Daisy coos and closes her eyes.
“I think she just needed her daddy,” Quinn says.
“I can’t sleep like this. What if I roll over and squish her?”
“How about this. I’ll sit up for a while and watch. When Daisy falls into a deep sleep, I’ll put her in her crib and leave you where you are.”
“I don’t want to keep you up.” Well, that’s not entirely true. I do want to keep her up, in so many other ways.
She crosses the room, sits on the bed and leans her back against the headboard. “I’m sure it won’t be long,” she says—and that’s when I finally notice she’s in nothing but my long T-shirt. Before I can help myself, my eyes travel the length of her, note her bare legs, the way the shirt rides up on her thighs as she stretches her hands over her head.
Motherfucker.
I close my eyes, settle myself on the pillow, and keep one hand on Daisy, just to let her know she’s not alone. She gurgles and falls asleep. I close my eyes, not convinced I’m going to sleep, not with Quinn on the other side of the bed…
But when I open them again, Quinn is just putting the baby into her crib.
“How long have I been asleep?” I ask quietly, and rub the blur from my eyes.