We make quick work of cleanup and then hustle to the childcare center. Dinah agreed to let us pick her brain, and I don’t want to leave her waiting.
But then we open the door into the large room and my brain seems to short out.
All I can do is stand here like a statue and cringe at the screaming.
There is so. Much. Screaming. Why are all the babies mad at the same time? And why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?
I look at Dinah with a mixture of sympathy and disbelief as she does her best to calm one of the loudest offenders. And then I look over at Joey, who has the same expression of fear on his face as I can feel on mine.
Is this what it’s going to be like when our baby comes? Will it scream like this for no reason? Do they ever even stop?
“I don’t think we’re ready for this,” I grumble and shake my head.
If I could turn around and run out of this room, I would. But Joey runs faster than I waddle these days, and there’s no way he’s going to let me leave. Mainly because he isn’t going to parent alone. That much is clear. We both have our weaknesses when it comes to this stuff, but I assume we have strengths somewhere too. And none of us will make it out alive if we don’t do it together.
I just wish I knew what those strengths were, because right now, I want to throw my hands in the air and say, “Fuck this.”
Another worker attends to some of the mayhem as Dinah walks over to us, bouncing a whimpering baby on her hip. “What kinds of questions do you guys have, because they can be hard to answer? Every baby is different, and we won’t really know what yours is like until he or she gets here.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. At all. We can’t even have a plan in place? This isn’t good.
“What’s wrong with this one?” Joey asks, gesturing to her arms with his head.
I nudge him. “Joey!”
“What? I wanna know what’s wrong with this one, so we don’t make the same mistake. I think this is the same one that Elliott was trying to contain the other day. He’s a troublemaker. I can feel it.” Joey leans closer and gives the baby the evil eye. He’s such an ass. Joey, not the baby.
“Hate to break it to you,” Dinah says with a weird conspiratorial grin that puts me on edge, “but this guy just doesn’t like being away from his mom. He’s spoiled rotten because she holds him all the time.”
“So, what you’re saying is, don’t hold the baby all the time?” Joey tries to clarify.
“When did I say that? A baby is supposed to be attached to his parents. It’s obnoxious for me, but it means he’s bonded to her, which is good for his development.”
“So, do hold the baby all the time?”
“Well, you have to put it down sometimes.”
“I’m so confused,” I whisper, rubbing my temples.
“Okay, let me see if I have this straight.” Joey licks his lips like he’s preparing for some life-altering wisdom to come out of his mouth. “What you’re saying is, this… all this crying… this is… good?”
“In this case, yep.”
“But you just said it’s obnoxious,” I argue, getting frustrated and wondering what the pros and cons are to putting my baby up for adoption. I won’t, but the thought does have its merits right now.
“For me it is,” Dinah says, as she wipes the baby’s chin of some slobber with her finger. Ew. “Which is why I have sarcasm and a witty sense of humor to get through my days. But I would be more concerned if this little one had no feeling one way or another about his mom.”
“I don’t understand this at all.”
“How do you have such a huge family and know less about babies than I do?” Joey asks.
“I never had any interest in the babies,” I admit with a shrug. “And there were so many people who wanted to hold them, I never had to. What’s your excuse, Marshall?”
“Abel never let me babysit until Mabel was older. Something about her being ‘self-sufficient.’ Kind of rude if you ask me.”
“Considering this conversation, I think Abel made the smart choice.” Dinah tosses in her two cents which doesn’t make me feel much better.
I blow out a breath and silently pray for my eardrums to rupture. Suddenly, I understand why my mother goes to mass all the time because parenting is no joke. It also kind of pisses me off that I’m feeling sympathetic toward her.
“Listen, Rosalind. You don’t have to understand any of it.” Dinah shrugs. “It’ll come. Just do what feels natural.”
“Roll over and throw a pillow on my head to drown out the crying in the middle of the night?”
Dinah and I both stare at Joey for a second too long in disbelief.
“Seriously?” I ask with disbelief. “Are you just going to ignore our kid if I’m not there to fix it?”
“I was kidding,” he says by way of justification, but I hold up my hand to make him stop.
“Maybe don’t do what comes naturally to him,” Dinah clarifies, not that I needed it. “Just go with your gut. You’ll be surprised how quickly your maternal instincts kick in. I was really nervous with my first one, too. I didn’t even like kids. But as soon as he was born, it all changed.”
Knowing I’m not the only one who has felt like this, is the first thing she’s said to make me feel better since we walked in this room. Maybe there’s hope for me. I’m not holding my breath yet.
Joey finally decides his jokes aren’t welcome today and asks her an honest question. “Are all the babies crying because of their moms?”
“No. One of them is teething and the other is tired because the crying keeps waking her up.”
“But…” I start even more confused now. “… how do you know all that?”
Dinah shrugs. “You learn their cries.”
“Learn their… they have more than one?” Even Joey looks confused again, too.
“Oh boy,” Dinah says with amusement. I’m glad she finds our failure entertaining. It’s really freaking me out. “You guys are going to have a rough go of it. Have you started reading baby books yet?”
I shake my head, kind of pissed off at myself for not thinking of that sooner.
“Get some.”
“I actually had a couple,” Joey says, surprising the shit out of me. “They were in my bathroom for some light reading when the need would arise.” Dinah and I both screw up our faces in disgust. Does this man have no filter? “Unfortunately, there was a small incident that started with me dozing off and ended with a wet and unreadable book, so I tossed them.”
So, no. He doesn’t have a filter.
“Anyway, I realized I’ve never been a huge reader and decided against repurchasing. Do they have an audiobook version?”
His nonchalance in the face of this massive life change is irritating me. Or maybe it’s the continual crying frazzling my nerves. Either way, I kind of want to punch him in the junk right now to ensure he never ends up in this situation again. From the look on Dinah’s face, she’s thinking the same thing.
“Not sure about that,” she finally says. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. It’ll just be harder to refer back to an audiobook if you’re trying to look up information.”
“Man, it feels like I’m going to college again, having to buy expensive books to look up specific things. I thought I was done with that.”
And yet again, my lack of education makes me feel even more behind the curve.
The only thing that makes me feel even slightly better is knowing even a high school diploma wouldn’t have prepared me for this either.
Chapter Fifteen
JOEY
I am so excited for today. It’s the first time I’ll be training my new clients in our Strongman program, and I’m ready to kick their asses.
Because they joined just days before the holidays, we decided to wait until after the new year to begin. It gave me time to decompress after spending an awkward and exhausting Christmas party with the DiSoto clan. Awkward because it turns out Nonna is more inapp
ropriate than Blanche, which I didn’t know was possible. And exhausting because this family can drink. I should have expected it after all the Johnny Walker Black during Thanksgiving, but I admit to being ill-prepared for the day. Nor was I prepared to be ill the whole next day.
The good news is Rosalind was excited when I gave her a new Kate Spade purse. It wasn’t Gucci, but she still practically launched herself at me when she opened it. The moment I’d been waiting for was happening, and I was this close to getting that kiss I’ve been thinking about, but Abel decided he was tired of standing and shoved his way in between us on the couch. It was an asshole move, but creepy Nonna was watching, so I got over it.
Now that the holiday decorations are all being put away, it’s time to get back into the routine. The great part of running a specialty class is we don’t have to work around the new gym-goers. Not just anyone can join it. You have to be a paying client to participate. I’m really hoping some of those co-workers at Cipher Systems will take a chance on me. This could be the beginning of a really great program.
Making one additional quick trip around the room, I double-check the equipment we need is set up and ready to go. Besides me, these guys will be the first ones to use it.
“Hey, man! You ready to train us?” Nicolas struts in, his normal wide smile securely in place. My goal is to wipe it right off his face with some hard work and strained muscles.
“I’ve got some great things planned,” I say with my own grin, clapping both him and Stan on the back. Stan just nods by way of greeting before a slow whistle comes through his teeth.
“This is an impressive setup. I haven’t seen equipment like this before.”
I look around, excited about what I’m seeing too. It’s like a dream come true to have this kind of equipment bought and paid for by my place of employment. “Even better is you guys are the first ones to use it. Well, besides me of course.”
“Oh yeah, that’s coming up, right? The competition?” Nicolas asks as he runs his hands over the lone squat bar. Strongman incorporates a lot of unconventional exercises, but at the end of the day, there still is a lot of strength training involved.
I blow out a breath as I consider how quickly I need to be ready. “It’s only three months away. I registered a couple days ago.”
Another whistle from Stan. “You ready?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “But I’m getting there. I’m coming in early to train every morning, and it’s a pretty great time of year to beef up my caloric intake. Those Christmas hams and turkeys were all on sale last week, which was good for me and my bank account. I need the protein to build up my guns.”
“Keep it up. It’ll be here before you know it.”
“No pressure, right? So anyway,” I say, shifting gears to get us started. “You guys get a warmup in like we talked about?”
Nicolas begins bouncing on his toes. “Ran two miles. Can’t you tell? Stan sweats so much he looks like he dumped water on his head.”
Stan just rolls his eyes and mutters “dickhead” as his only response.
“Well, good. I figured we’d start over here.” I make my way to the back of the room where I’ve already set up our first exercise. “These are called Atlas stones, and I’m hoping they really challenge you in a different way.”
Nicolas walks over and just stares at the equipment. “So, we’re lifting a rock.”
Stan snickers. “That’s probably why they’re called Atlas stones, Nick.”
“I know that, asshole,” he retorts. “I guess I was just expected something a little less”—he waves his hand around dramatically—“primitive.”
Oh yeah. He has no idea what’s coming. This is going to be fun.
“It may look basic, but I guarantee it’s going to give you a workout like you’ve never experienced.”
Nicolas looks unconvinced at this point, but he also doesn’t look ready to walk out yet. Instead, he eyes me and then the equipment again. “How heavy is that thing anyway?”
“We’re starting you on the light set since it’s your first time.”
His eyes widen and he scoffs. “The light set? Do you know how much I can bench? At least make it a challenge.”
Stan puts his hand up to stop the tirade. I wouldn’t be surprised if he researched before walking in today. “Wait. I’ve seen these Strongman competitions. When you use that word, exactly how light are we talking?”
“It’s not bad. Just two hundred twenty pounds.”
By the look on Nicolas’s face, he’s still making light of this. “Dude. I can bench-press that with one hand.”
“Then by all means, be my guest with the stones, my friend.” I gesture to them and back up enough that I’m away from him, but close enough to jump in and spot if need be. “It’s right there on the floor. The goal is to pick it up and drop it over that bar onto the mat. Don’t throw out your back,” I add and grab him a weight belt and some gloves to help his grip.
He nods with swagger and tightens the belt around his waist. He’s cocky enough that I know he’s going to lose real quick. Stretching his head back and forth, his neck cracks. “I got this.”
Stan snickers and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and legs. Oh yeah. He definitely did some research on what to expect.
We watch as Nicolas squats down, putting his arms as far underneath as he can and lifting. At first, it’s relatively easygoing. He lifts with his knees and balances it on his thighs. And that’s when the struggle really begins.
He attempts to shift his weight so he can get the stone up high enough to toss it over. Part of what makes it hard is that the bar isn’t waist high. It’s more at a weird height, just about chest high, so it’s hard to use your back muscles to help. Add on the roundness of the stone and it becomes more than just arm strength. It’s constant adjusting to keep from losing your grip, even with the gloves.
Nicolas struggles for a little longer, but I’ll give him that he’s determined. Finally, he gets it in just the right position and over it goes, making a bang on the floor when it lands. The mat might protect the floor, but it doesn’t change that sound.
“Holy shit,” he says through heavy breaths, hands on his hips as he tries not to hyperventilate.
“Harder than you thought, huh, hotshot?” Stan quips with a grin.
“It’s not that heavy, just an odd shape. And an even odder height.” He grabs his water bottle and screws off the top.
“Exactly,” I say with a nod, glad that it wasn’t too easy for him. “Your muscles are used to bench presses and dead lifts. But this engages your back, glutes, legs, arms, and your entire core at the same time because the stone isn’t necessarily balanced. But to get it over the bar, none of that matters because it’s all arm strength.”
He downs half his water bottle before speaking again. “Okay, you win. That was fucking hard.”
“Good. So, let’s start with some sets.” Nicolas’s eyes widen in disbelief, which makes me want to laugh. I’m better at training these dudes than I thought I would be. “Don’t worry. We’re not going over the bar. We’re just picking it up, shifting to a stand, squatting back down, and dropping it to the floor. You can compete against each other later if you want.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Nicolas grumbles and takes his place behind the stone.
Stan, who is obviously the quiet one, silently positions himself behind a slightly larger stone.
We go through five sets of five, up the weight for five sets of three, and once again for five sets of one. Both of them breaking out into a good sweat and Nicolas bitching the whole time. They seem really into it, which bodes well for my long-term plans. Maybe I really can build the program.
The original goal for the day included some more indoor work, but being that it’s a relatively nice day out, I change my mind. Might as well pull out the big guns for our first session.
“Grab your hoodies,” I mention as they mop off. “We’re heading out back.”
“Like outside, outside?” Nicolas asks, and I give him a quick nod. “Good. There is nothing worse than working out in the heat. I could use some cooling off.”
Behind the building there is a fenced-in grassy area that runs the length of the building. It’s kind of a hidden gem considering we’re smack in the middle of Chicago and backyards are typically no bigger than a patch or two of grass, if that. When the temperatures get warmer, quite a few of the staff members make this location the unofficial break area. It’s quiet, it’s out of the way, and if you can block out the traffic noise, you almost feel one with nature. Well, assuming you also ignore the workout equipment. That’s the other thing this particular patch of heaven is good for—an outdoor workout, starting with tire flips.
“Holy shit,” Nicolas breathes. “Where did they get a tire like this?”
I understand his reaction. This isn’t just a regular tire. It’s huge. Roughly five and a half feet across and taller than the average toddler when it’s lying on its side.
“Believe it or not, you can get them at a regular tire store.”
Even Stan looks surprised by that information. “They actually sell and install these?”
“Oh hell no. Usually they come in when it can’t be used on a big rig anymore and the owner needs to dispose of it. But a tire this size”—I pat it with my hand—“costs more to dispose of than it’s worth. There are several shops in Chicago that have a list of gyms who need certain sizes and weights. They give us a call when they come across it. We just have to show up with a truck, and they’ll load it up and send us on our way.”
Nicolas looks impressed. Not at all the cocky bastard like he was with the Atlas stones.
“That brings a whole new meaning to tire flips.”
“Yep. This one is our light one. It’s about four hundred fifty pounds. Care to do the honors?”
“No, thank you. I learned my lesson last time.” Nicolas takes a giant step back and points to Stan. “He can go first.”
Stan grumbles but doesn’t hesitate to get in position behind the tire.
Weights of Wrath (Cipher Office Book 4) Page 12
