“Quit whining so much.” We glare at each other until she changes her mind about arguing with me, asking, “Has Shasta answered you yet about bottles and diapers?”
“No.” Like I’m eagerly awaiting to hear from her. I’d rather lightning strike me down in this aisle than to hear from her. At least I’d die amongst some kind of nipples.
“I guess we’ll have to wing it.” Of course, Garrison would say something that reminds me she’s Wilder’s sister. “Do any of these bottles look like Birdy’s?” She points to the area I’m supposed to be evaluating.
“You expect me to answer that?”
“If you’d pay attention it’d be helpful.”
“No one has ever accused me of being helpful.”
“Evidently.”
She picks up a box of bottles, and I nearly convulse from the price. “Fucking seriously? Are they made out of gold?”
Rolling her eyes, she lets the box fall from her hand and into the cart, piling on my debt. “They’re for your daughter, Greg.”
“They’re half my rent!”
“Halt the damn bitching. At least you don’t need a breast pump.”
“If it comes with breasts, sign me up.”
“Pig.”
“Rooster.”
“What?” She kind of frowns and laughs at the same time.
“Oh. I thought that was going somewhere else. My bad. What next, sergeant?”
Simone picks up another box, holding it for me to see as if that really helps. “What is it?” A time machine would be killer right now.
“A bottle warmer.”
“Pretentious.”
Simone laughs, shaking her short hair and her small gold earrings. “Warm milk isn’t such a shock to a baby’s sensitive system.”
“I’m not raising no diva.” We’ll never discuss my closetful of designers.
Simone deposits the box into the cart, adding to my anxiety. “Burp cloths.”
“They do have napkins here.”
I reluctantly follow her to the next baby aisle and from over her shoulder, she asks, “Are you messing around with me again or are you really this unaware?” A delightful hybrid of A and B.
“The second one, but you can throw in the first one as a parting gift.” She bends to pick up two packages on a hook. She’s now wearing khaki shorts that show off one of her greatest assets, offsetting her worst as she keeps talking.
“Next, diapers.” She empties her hands into the cart with a smile.
“By the time we’re done here, I will be wearing diapers.” Simone stops at the massive display, and I regret not being a crackhead. I’d be too high to give a shit about this noise. “Let’s go with size one. Okay. Wipes.”
“Jesus. Spoiled much?”
More dumping as she says, “We need to go to the pharmacy section to get a few things there.” At this point, I will need crack to get through this.
I follow Simone, enjoying the view, but I almost run into her three times. Following Hadley isn’t as hazardous.
She scampers to a shelf. “You’ll need a thermometer, Infant Tylenol, a nasal aspirator, a—”
“An anal what?”
Simone laughs, tossing the box at my chest. “Nasal aspirator. It’s to suck out her nose.”
“Why in the hell would I want to do that?”
“So she can breathe.”
“She has a mouth. I don’t have someone sucking out my nose.”
“Birdy can’t blow her nose, Greg. Shit. Read a damn baby book or something. This is painful.”
“How do you know so much about babies? You don’t have a few stashed away somewhere, do you?” Poor kids.
We walk as she checks her list. “I babysat a lot when I was a teen. That’s when I first became certified in CPR for all age groups. I still am.”
“I just learned how to program my DVR.”
“You need to learn CPR. I can show you, and then you can get certified.”
“Uh, that’s rather ambitious and optimistic of you.”
She looks up at me, frowning. “You don’t think you can do it?”
“I also just learned how to hard-boil an egg.”
We stop at a shelf, and she sighs at it. “Shit. I have my work cut out for me.”
I nod, laughing but feel like crying. “Yeah. Taking care of a baby is tough.”
“I was talking about you.” She tosses a thermometer into the cart and starts walking again.
“Thanks.”
“Mm-hmm. You’ll also need baby fingernail clippers and a file. I don’t see any. I’ll look somewhere else tomorrow.”
“I don’t do nails.”
“You will. And one day you’ll even paint them for her. She’ll probably paint yours too.”
“Get real.”
Garrison backtracks to me, smiling as she pats my chest. “She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger.” While Shasta has a rope wrapped around my neck.
“Not in this lifetime. So, how often do you watch Finley?”
She resumes her search for my next expense. “Maybe twice a month. Why?”
“Just wondered if Wilder takes care of his own kid. He’s hardly home when I visit Hadley.” I wonder if I will ever be able to again.
“Why wouldn’t he? He loves taking care of Finley. He’s an awesome dad. He didn’t know how to change a diaper before she came along, either.” The thought of him taking care of my daughter is both laughable and irritating.
“How heroic of him,” I mutter while Simone’s at the end of the aisle.
Returning to the cart, she dumps another box. “I know Finn wants another baby.”
Pushing the cart, I lurch to a stop, feeling sick. “When?”
Simone shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m guessing they’ll start trying again next year. Maybe it’ll be one of those oops things as much as they fuck.” Jesus Christ. I wish I were deaf like my Uncle Francis so I wouldn’t have to suffer through this shit. “Finn told Hadley he wants three or four, which surprises the hell out of me. He didn’t want any kids.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not like I didn’t figure they’d have another kid but hearing about them making one torments me even more. What would I expect Hadley to want? My kid?
Done.
Maybe.
“What’s wrong?”
I look up, realizing I was staring at the shelf of Preparation H. “Nothing. Why?”
“You stopped talking and spaced out. I know this is a lot, but we’ll get done faster if you help me. What else do you need?” A cocaine dealer on speed dial.
“You tell me. That’s why you’re here.”
“I feel so wanted.”
“That’s Tesco’s job. Not mine.”
“About that. Finn still hasn’t responded to my text to call me. That’s okay because I’m not sure what angle to use, getting info about Ricky.”
“Do you think he’ll want you dating his BFF?”
“I doubt he cares.”
“Yeah. I don’t know about that. You might break up the band, Yoko.”
“He’ll probably be happy if Ricky is his brother-in-law.” I roll my eyes, and we walk, only for Simone to suddenly stop with a horrified look. “Oh, my God. A crib.”
“I don’t have room for a crib.”
“Find room. Birdy needs to sleep somewhere.”
“Anywhere but my apartment would be great.”
She wrinkles her nose and then asks, “Does Shasta have a travel playpen or bassinet?”
“Still the wrong question.”
Simone flees the aisle, and I sigh, leisurely turning around to follow her back to the baby shit. Only this time, she ends her trek at the cribs on display. There aren’t many but enough to give me a certified coronary.
She points to a white one with a disastrous price tag, which they’re all equal opportunity. “This one’s pretty.”
“I don’t want pretty.”
“I’m not bedazzling your peen. It’s a
crib. Get over it. This crib is the best one here, and you can have it today.”
“Watch your mouth. We’re in the fucking baby department.”
Ignoring me, Simone flags down an employee, telling them I want the crib. Like I actually have a damn choice. When she mentions a mattress, I whimper out loud on behalf of my credit card, drawing attention to myself, but I’m past caring. I probably should have had this breakdown earlier, but I’ve been overwhelmed with fathering two kids by accident.
Christ.
What the hell is happening to my life?
I fucking gave away the woman I love to another man.
After dragging him back to her, I went and accidentally fathered her child.
While fathering a child with the town toilet seat.
She may have videoed us having sex.
My parents don’t even know about either dick slip.
I threw away becoming a lawyer.
I’m stuck living in a dumpster.
My sister, one of my best friends, died, leaving me here to rot.
In the middle of all this tornado from hell, Amos claims Hadley loves me. Hadley said I’m hers but now refuses to talk to me. What in the hell can I do with this info? It’s not like she’s leaving her husband for me anytime this century. So, what does Hadley expect me to do now? Wait until never for her? I’d wait forever, but she’d make me wait longer than that.
No matter which way I turn, I’m stuck, and all my efforts to escape are pointless.
“Greg?”
“Huh?”
Now standing next to me, Simone cocks her head, confused. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing. I was just... Nothing.” I’m not telling her shit. She’ll run right to Hadley or her brother. Wilder would enjoy my suffering.
“They’ll load the crib and mattress for us. You’ll need to check out so you can pull your truck up to the door.” She studies me, and I look at the huge mound of debt in the cart.
Sighing, I push the cart to the checkouts with Simone trailing behind me for a change. When I stop, Simone pulls at my arm. “Shit. How are we going to get this crib out of your truck and into your apartment? I think it’s too heavy. I can ask Finn and Ricky to carry it.”
I pull out my phone. “I’m not that much of a wimp. I’ll find someone to help me.” I’ll lug each individual piece up the stairs myself before I’d ever ask those assjacks for help.
“Do you need me for anything else?”
“Thank you so much, Amos!” Simone flies over, trapping him in a noisy and needless hug, turning my stomach. “You’re a lifesaver!”
“Anytime, Simone. I’m glad Rod called me. His bedroom is rather interesting.” I bet he can’t wait to tell everyone about being in my bedroom either. I roll my eyes while stuffing a trash bag, cleaning up the packaging thrown all over the living room and kitchen. It’s mayhem and all for a small human who isn’t even here yet.
Nico didn’t answer my texts. I imagine he’s either working or actually has a life. Amos was the only other person I could think of with muscles and no life outside of work. And damn him for making me look like a stick man drawn by a kindergartner.
Simone finally sets Vaughn free, and he says, “It’s nice of you to help Rod.”
She slightly shrugs as she goes to flip her long blonde hair that’s no longer there. I’m waiting for her to lose her balance and fall over. Desperate entertainment comes in all shapes and sizes. From the kitchen, I see Amos smiling as he lifts a chunk of her short hair, probably wishing she had saved some for his chrome dome.
Simone giggles, talking about having the courage to go short. That’s rich. It takes real guts to cut your hair. Wilder should have her as a guest on the Wild Side to share her daring story with all of goddamn Richmond.
“I wanted to help Greg, but I think I scare him. He’s rather delicate.”
“Get bent, Garrison.” I shake my head as I tie off the bag and grab another one.
“Screw you, Rodwell.”
“It’s good to see you two getting along.” Amos laughs, and I mimic it with a derisive grin.
“We always get along,” I mutter a blatant lie. What the hell did I get myself into with her helping me? We’re going to kill each other.
He nods, frowning, not believing me, apparently. “Wasn’t it during a game last month when the umpire benched you and Simone for an inning because you called each other obscene names on the field?”
Putting her hands on her hips, Simone tells Amos, “I dropped a foul ball. Greg said his blind grandmother could’ve caught it one-handed. I disputed that.”
I pick up more trash, ignoring her pouting, but defending my own honor. “She’s my step-grandmother. Get it right. And you called me a moronic son of a bitch who pitches worse than a carsick chimp.”
“You called me a sea hag. You also told me bleaching my hair must’ve fried my brain. I’m a natural blonde, Greg Rodwell.”
“Go ahead and prove the carpet matches the drapes, Garrison. Drop ‘em.”
“Show me yours. I’ll show you mine.”
“Fine.” I put my hands on my belt buckle, safe in knowing that’ll be enough to shut her up. If not, then shit. Amos might not stop me either.
Thankfully, Amos puts his hand on Simone’s shoulder, probably afraid she will drop her drawers first, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. He says, “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said a word.”
I resume my trash cleaning. “You got that right.”
Simone even says, “I agree, Amos. You started this. We were doing fine.”
Amos laughs. “Sorry. Anyway, Rod, have you thought about what you’re dressing up as for Brandon’s Halloween party?”
Simone asks, “Halloween party?”
Amos now looks uncomfortable. What a megamouth. “For the office. We’re allowed to bring dates. Are you dating anyone?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Maybe you and Rod can go together then.”
Dropping the full trash bag on the kitchen floor, I glare at Amos. Is he totally incapable of keeping his damn mouth shut? Simone says, “Uh, that sounds fun, but I don’t think Greg wants to hang out with me that much.” For a second, she sulks but covers it with another smile.
I impatiently sigh, picking up the mess I dropped. “I didn’t say that. It’s an office party. Not exactly fun.”
Amos says, “Brandon’s party this past weekend was fun.” I frown, and he glances at Simone, probably wondering how much she knows about Hadley and me. He will not be playing matchmaker just to get me to stay away from her.
I retort, “You think that was fun? You must line dance at weddings.”
Simone tells Amos, “You should go as something unexpected.”
He laughs, rubbing his bald head. “I don’t know what that could be.” Going as Betsy’s vibrator would be unexpected. He’s got the look, so that’s a start.
Grinning, Simone offers, “I can help you brainstorm some ideas.”
“I’d like that. I need all the help I can get.” No lie there, Amos.
Simone goes to her purse, pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen. She scribbles on it and hands it to Amos. “There’s my number. Text or call me.”
“Okay. I will.” He stuffs the paper into his pocket and checks his watch. “Well, I need to get home. Frenchy needs a walk.”
“Who’s Frenchy?” Damn you, Simone. Amos is basically a stray cat. If you feed him, it’ll only encourage him to keep coming back.
“She’s my English bulldog. You haven’t heard me mention her before at practices or games?”
“No! I want to meet her!” Simone squeals, clasping her hands beneath her chin.
“She’d love to meet you.” What the hell is happening? Amos and Simone are becoming best buds? What a disaster waiting to unleash itself to the unsuspecting public.
I go into the kitchen to get another trash bag, and when I come back to the living room, Simone and Amos are whispering and st
op when they see me.
Amos then smiles at Simone and me, saying, “If you need anything other than a referee, let me know. I’m always here to help. Good luck with Birdy. See you tomorrow.”
Simone smiles. “Will do.” She again says bye and waves at him. Jesus.
Turning away from the door, Garrison asks, “You hungry?”
“Some.”
“I can get takeout. What do you want?”
“Whatever.”
“What’s around here?”
“Pizza, Chinese—”
“Pizza. Any deliver here?”
“Right.”
“Okay. We still have time before Shasta brings Birdy over, don’t we?”
I consult my watch. Damn it. Time flies when you hate your life. “An hour.”
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll eat anything so get what you want.”
After Simone places an order, she leaves, and I’m left alone, feeling more abandoned by Hadley than ever. No texts or calls. Just silence from her end.
I finish cleaning up around the apartment, and I inspect the crib in my bedroom again. How am I going to be able to sleep with Birdy in here with me? I’ll be up all night, waiting for the next feeding and the next round of crying. I’m never going to make it through this sane or sober.
While I wait for Simone, Shasta texts me, asking if she needs to bring the playpen thing for Birdy to sleep in. I have that shit handled, not that I would’ve thought of it on my own.
When Simone returns with a knock at my door, I answer it, and she hands me the pizza box with one hand while holding a small bag in her other. I also notice the colossal weekender bag on her shoulder. Shutting the door as she drops everything into a pile in the hallway, I ask, “What the hell is all that?”
“My clothes. I can’t sleep here naked.” I wouldn’t object to that.
“Uh, excuse me?”
“You really think you should be left alone with Birdy the first night with her? All night?” Point taken. Still, it’s a bitter truth to admit.
As she takes the pizza to the kitchen, I warn, “You’re not sleeping with me.”
She grins, opening the box lid. “No. That’s why you have a couch.”
“It’s not the greatest, but you’ll be okay.”
Garrison giggles. “So funny you think I’m sleeping there.”
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