Bright Side

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Bright Side Page 4

by Rose Fresquez


  She shook the thought off as she fired the engine of her van. Putting the vehicle in reverse, she decided to focus on her evening shift at the cafe, because her dreams about Andrew were way out of this world. No way she and Andrew would ever be anything. She even had to laugh about that fantasy.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sitting on the counter height stool, Andrew propped his elbows on the small table and pressed the iPhone to his ear. It was the only way he could hear the frail voice speaking through the phone.

  Marcie, in her late seventies, had a lot to share when it came to people in the neighborhood. She rambled on about which neighbors had just inherited money from their deceased parents, and whose son had just gotten divorced.

  Andrew tapped his feet impatiently, waiting for an opportunity to speak. He had yet to get a word in edgewise regarding the reason for his call.

  “Oh, and by the way, the Williams’ youngest grandson has cancer.”

  Despite his urgency to get straight to the point, Andrew found himself sympathetic for a young child who was consumed by a deadly disease.

  “Which one is this?” He didn't know anybody’s grandchild from his childhood neighborhood. Marcie’s explanation confirmed it was someone he’d never met. He made a mental note to pray for the child as Marcie shifted the conversation to the new mailman. No doubt she had a story about Andrew, too, but he didn't linger on the thought.

  When Marcie stopped talking to laugh at her own joke, Andrew took advantage of the break to say what he needed to.

  “What time did you want me to come over tomorrow?” He wouldn't mind listening to a lonely widow talk all day, if he wasn’t in a hurry to pick up his brother for their snowboarding trip this morning. Weekend ski traffic started as early as Friday on 1-70.

  Having taken temporary residence in his childhood home, Andrew had picked up his dad’s volunteer projects to help people in the community. Marcie needed her garage door fixed, and had a few other handyman projects around the house.

  “I wake up at three am, since I get to bed at six,” the woman spoke.

  Andrew chuckled. “Not that early.” Even if he went to bed by nine, he still needed a lazy morning on his days off. “I will be there first thing in the morning.”

  “Woof!” This from Rocky, trying to get his attention. The Great Dane occupied half the couch, which was five inches away from Andrew’s feet.

  Once he verified the time with the woman, Andrew hung up and set his phone back on the table, glancing at the time on the screen. Nine a.m. He reached for his smoothie and lifted the glass to his lips.

  The floorboards squeaked when Rocky ambled toward him. Andrew reached down to pat Rocky’s soft ear, getting his hand licked in return. “What’s up, Buddy?”

  Setting his glass down, Andrew grabbed the apple core left over from his breakfast and tossed it toward the recycling bin. Rocky instantly left his side and leapt to snatch the core from mid air. The core skittered on the floor and Rocky nuzzled it. Deciding it wasn’t edible, Rocky ran back to Andrew and wagged his tail as if hoping for something else to play with.

  Andrew smiled fondly. The way he’d ended up with Rocky had been unexpected. He’d been helping the previous owners find a home for the untrained dog, but nobody wanted to take him, so Andrew ended up stuck with him. At least, it had felt like he was stuck at first, but after attending dog training classes and getting acquainted with each other, Andrew was enjoying Rocky’s companionship.

  THE STOOL SCRAPED THE floor when he stood up. His cell phone chimed with an incoming text.

  Ezra had typed: Remember not to ring the doorbell, it's unlocked, let yourself in.

  Same thing the new parents reminded him of whenever he was showing up—they didn't want the doorbell going off, in case the baby was sleeping.

  He typed his response, teasing. What a great way to make guests comfortable.

  Ezra didn’t respond. Andrew gathered up his jacket from the freestanding wardrobe closet next to his bed and slung it over his shoulder.

  To avoid running into each other’s feet, and Rocky ruining his parents’ house, Andrew had fixed up the fifteen hundred square foot shed that his sister Renee and his dad had built years ago—too big to be a shed, but that's what they’d always called it.

  He’d wired in electricity after moving in, and since Renee’s husband had a plumbing license, Jake helped him with the plumbing so Andrew could have running water for a bathroom and a sink. Even though the shed was one big room, Andrew had divided it with a curtain to separate the bedroom from the living room. The small bathroom was right next to the bed.

  Now that the shed looked like a livable mini-apartment, his parents thought it would be a perfect house for his grandma, if they could ever convince her to move in with them instead of into a nursing home.

  After switching to a fire station in Fort Rock, Andrew had sold his house last summer. Three months later, he hadn’t found a house in his price range that he liked. He could’ve settled for something or rented if he didn’t have a place to live, but his parents had encouraged him to move in with them until he could find a house.

  As much as he hated the image it painted for a grown man to be living with his parents, he’d enjoyed using his off-shift hours to spend time with his dad while they helped people in their community.

  After washing his glass with a soft soapy brush, he set it down on the rack at the small kitchen counter. He then opened the one drawer on the wall above the sink and pulled out a clear plastic jar of dog treats.

  The dog jumped and knocked the jar from his hand. It thudded onto the boards, thankfully with the lid still intact. “You need to be patient.” He bent and picked up the container.

  He offered Rocky one of the treats, and the dog all but jerked it out of his hand. Andrew crouched and rubbed the dog’s ear after Rocky had gobbled the first treat. “Okay, Buddy, I gotta go see Ezra, and I have to leave you in the kennel.”

  The dog stared at him sadly, as if he understood what he’d said. Andrew hated leaving him in a kennel, since he’d been neglected by his previous owners. Even if Andrew’s mom had insisted on taking care of Rocky, though, Andrew didn’t want to inconvenience her schedule. It was enough that she’d accepted to let the dog out to go potty and run in the yard for a few minutes.

  “Last time I left you roaming free in the house, you chewed up the couch and the entire rug.” Andrew glanced at the new brown rug in front of the couch.

  The dog whimpered.

  “Yep, and I can’t take you with me to my brother’s house, either, because he just had a new baby. Last thing he needs is you eating up his couch and creating a ruckus.”

  Andrew gave him his final treat, and Rocky obliged, after the bribe, to step into the humongous kennel next to the couch.

  “Bye, Buddy!” Andrew said to the dog, and threw his coat over his shoulder as he reluctantly closed the door on his way out.

  IN LESS THAN TWENTY minutes, Andrew was standing on the front porch of his brother’s brick home.

  Two preteen boys tossed a football in the neighboring yard, and to the left, a dog barked. The beginning of March was slightly warm. That was the beauty of Colorado. One day there was extreme sun, and the next day it was snowing.

  Andrew stopped short of ringing the doorbell when he remembered Ezra’s earlier text. He twisted the silver door knob to open the door. A diffuser on the kitchen counter blasted the scent of aromatic essential oils that Andrew could never remember the names of, even though his sister in-law always spoke of them.

  Next to praying, Leila’s passions were essential oils and cooking.

  Andrew moved to the spacious living room that adjoined the kitchen, where his brother sat in the recliner, eyes closed and a wrapped-up bundle resting on his shoulder.

  Ezra blinked his eyes open when Andrew neared. “Hey,’ he whispered.

  Andrew inched forward to admire his niece. Her dark curls stuck out underneath the soft, hot pink blanket. “Do I have to whisp
er, too?” he spoke in a low voice, attempting to match Ezra’s volume.

  Although her eyes were closed, Adalee stuck out her little tongue.

  “She’s sort of sleeping.”

  "Aren't babies supposed to be sleeping eighty percent of the time, anyway?” Andrew sank down on the black leather couch across from Ezra, who yawned. The dark shadows underneath Ezra’s eyes were evidence of the amount of sleep he was missing. “Or maybe they don’t sleep as much.”

  “It’s hit or miss.” Ezra pulled himself up skillfully, tucking Adalee into a ball that fit perfectly under his arm. “I’ll be back.” He sauntered off to the kitchen, cradling his daughter.

  Andrew’s eyes wandered to the far corner by the kitchen, where there was a mini hot pink table with two small chairs designed for someone little, like the seven year old who sat on one of them. He recognized her as Bianca’s daughter. Her head was bent and her tongue sticking out to the side while focused on a book, and her hand busily moving a colored pencil across the page.

  Andrew had seen her often at Ezra’s house, mainly because Ezra and his wife were her godparents and they watched her more often than not, especially in the afternoons after school and on Saturdays when her mom worked.

  He waved to catch her attention. “Hi there, Daisy!”

  Her vibrant curls swung when she spun her head toward Andrew. She smiled and dropped the crayon on the table before she scampered to him. “Hi, Mr. Andrew.”

  “Are you doing your homework?” Andrew gestured to the pink table.

  “No, I was just coloring, but I need to do my homework.”

  She continued chattering about her day. “Aunt Leila and I are going to make bath soap and hand sanitizer using essential oils,” she announced. “But only after I get my homework done.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah!” She nodded, her enthusiasm making her curls bounce up and down.

  When Ezra and Adalee returned, Daisy babbled about her favorite color and a few other things of childish interest, before trotting back to her coloring book.

  Andrew leaned back on the black leather couch and spread his arms, crossing his ankles. “So...” He grinned at his brother, who let out another humongous yawn. “How do you like being a dad?”

  Ezra smiled as he lowered himself back onto the recliner and nodded. “I gotta say, it’s a miracle that this is my daughter.” Ezra planted a kiss on the baby’s forehead. “My little peanut... there’s definitely ups and downs, like lack of sleep, for one.”

  Andrew nodded in understanding. His brother had aced the exam to become captain at his firehouse, since the previous captain had recently transferred to the marshal’s office. Andrew, being a captain also, understood the extra responsibilities the job brought with it. “Still thinking of pursuing the captain position?”

  Ezra let out a slow sigh. “I’m still not sure about that right now.” As if not wanting to discuss work, Ezra shifted the conversation. “Help yourself to some breakfast.” He lifted his chin toward the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Mom’s not the kind to have anything homemade around, but we have lots of food that the church members and Leila’s colleagues have been bringing us.”

  He listed the breakfast casseroles, breads, and dinners that overflowed in their fridge.

  “I’m a bachelor; I get it, but I’m not eating food from people who need all the help they can get.”

  Adalee grunted and wiggled in her dad’s arms.

  “I need to have Peanut fed before Leila wakes up.” Ezra stood up again from the rocker and held Adalee out toward Andrew. “Go bond with your uncle.”

  ANDREW WAS HESITANT. “She’s so tiny.” He was using it as an excuse, hoping Ezra would get the idea that he wasn't confident about holding a flimsy baby. The last time he’d held her was at the hospital, and he’d felt like his strong arms were breaking her tiny frame.

  Ezra didn’t seem to notice Andrew’s hesitance, or if he did, he ignored it when he literally settled the baby on Andrew’s lap. “Careful with the head,” he reminded, and left for the kitchen.

  Adalee’s head wobbled and Andrew slipped his hand under it to prop it, pressing her close to his chest so he could get a good look at her.

  She pursed her little rosebud lips.

  Andrew smiled, whispering to his niece. “You’re so adorable, you know that?”

  Engulfed in her sweet baby scent, more like baby shampoo, he touched the soft, dark hair that was just like her mom’s. Her skin was so fair, it was hard to tell if she would have Ezra’s light or Leila’s dark skin color, or something in between.

  Ezra returned with the bottle, giving it a shake.

  “You’re doing pretty good,” Andrew said. “And you’re good at getting the milk fast.”

  “I have a bottle warmer.” He tilted the bottle to drip some on his forearm. “Making sure it’s the right temperature for her.”

  Andrew was fascinated at the expert way his brother handled it, as if he’d done this before. Some people were naturally born to be parents, and Ezra was one of them, since he’d always been good with kids even before he had his own.

  “Here.” Ezra held out the bottle to Andrew, who blinked in surprise.

  “What do you want me to do with that?”

  “You’re feeding Peanut!”

  Andrew shook his head. “Never fed a baby before...”

  His words were drowned when Ezra shoved the bottle in his hand. He called Daisy, “Can you please bring a bib?”

  “Okay,” Daisy responded, and within seconds she trotted back with a pink giraffe bib.

  “Thanks, Sweetie.” Ezra accepted it from Daisy and tied it around the infant’s neck to cover her chest.

  “You used to feed Renee. Same thing.”

  Andrew had been seven when Renee was born, and he’d helped feed the baby and hand diapers to their mom. “Babies back then didn’t choke as much.”

  Ezra ignored Andrew’s protestations. “If we’re going to beat ski traffic, I need to get in the shower right now.” He tilted Adalee’s head onto a pillow, then asked Andrew to rest his hand underneath the baby’s head.

  Losing the argument, Andrew let out a slow breath and cautiously tilted the soft tip of the bottle into the infant's mouth. A smile curved his lips when the baby all but sucked the bottle and pulled in milk with such expertise.

  “You’re just like me when it comes to food, you know that?”

  In a few minutes, the four ounce bottle was empty. Andrew tried to set it on the table, but it bounced off the table and onto the rug, then rolled onto the tiled floor with a clatter.

  Daisy scooted back to Andrew’s side and picked up the bottle from the floor, then handed Andrew a purple cloth.

  “That’s a burp cloth,” she informed him. “If you don’t burp the baby, she’ll throw up on you.”

  “Never burped a baby before.”

  “I’ll show you.” Daisy set the cloth on Andrew’s shoulder and then guided him how to rest the baby on it. “Now move your hand in circles or tap on her upper back.”

  “Hmm.” Andrew peered at Daisy. “How do you know so much about feeding a baby?”

  He gently rubbed the baby’s upper back as Daisy instructed.

  Her face lit up at his compliment. “I see Uncle Ez and Aunt Leila do it after Adalee eats, so she can burp. Did you know that Adalee means ‘God is my shelter?’”

  He’d never asked why they ended up with that name. “No, I didn’t.”

  In a matter of seconds, Adalee sent out a burp or two, and the soft smell of milk wafted from her as Andrew felt the warm spit seeping through the cloth.

  Adalee let out another sound, this time from her bottom half, and Daisy giggled.

  “Diaper change now.”

  “I will let your uncle do that.”

  Ezra returned in a fleece plaid shirt and warm cargos.

  Andrew held Adalee out to him. “I believe I'm gonna hand over this bundle for you to change her diaper.”

  Da
isy giggled again.

  Ezra winked at Daisy. “Drew can do that, right, D?”

  Daisy shook her head, a wide smile on her face. “I don't think so.”

  Ezra turned to Andrew, taking the wiggly baby out of his arms. “Did you bond with your uncle?”

  He planted a kiss on her cheek, with such adoration. “As soon as I’m done changing the diaper, now that Leila is awake, she should be done pumping more milk.”

  Pump milk? What with? Like a machine? “Wait... wait.” Andrew rose and pointed a finger at Ezra. “You mean to tell me that I’ve been feeding Adalee breast milk?” He frowned at the thought.

  “Duh?”

  Andrew wrinkled his nose. “That’s so weird.”

  He stared at the bottle on the table. Daisy’s irrepressible giggles filled the room.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Ezra spoke to Daisy. “Did you get your homework done?”

  “Uhm...uh...” She fidgeted and stared at her feet.

  Ezra winked at her. “I don’t think that your Aunt will let you make any soap.”

  “I’ll go get my books from the basement.”

  After Daisy scampered off, Ezra spoke to Andrew. “Stop being a whiner. You’re a firefighter...a certified EMT,” Ezra reminded him. “You delivered Adalee, and I think that was more serious stuff than breast milk, don’t you think?”

  Maybe... milk wasn't as big a deal, now that Ezra reminded him of having been part of the birthing process, but at the time, his attention had been more on the baby than where she was coming from. He slowly un-creased his brows and fired back a joke. “I had no choice but to deliver Adalee. Speaking of whiners, you bawled like a baby instead of delivering your own child.”

  Ezra gave him that face he normally made when he was about to tackle him. He glanced at the bundle in his hands, then to Andrew. “You’re lucky that I’m holding Peanut right now.”

  “Are we ever going to make it snowshoeing today?”

  The clock on the wall showed ten thirty, much later than they had planned to leave, but things were different when he made plans with a new dad. The baby defined Ezra’s schedule for him.

 

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