When it probably never will be, since your daddy is dumb as fuck.”
She didn’t dispute my assessment. She just stuck her fist in her mouth and gnawed away because her clueless father hadn’t given her a new bottle yet.
I braced my hands on the edge of the vintage changing table I’d found at Kinleigh’s Attic. Well, Kinleigh and August’s Attic now. They’d started out as friends, and now they were parents with an adorable baby girl.
August had dealt with his share of angst over the whole situation, but now they were on the other side. A happy family. Just like John and Macy’s family was happy with Dani and their new son, Michael. Blended families could work.
Families, period, could function well. Just because my own had been such a disaster didn’t mean it was impossible. And my dad had done a damn good job solo with Mason and I. It was just the mother part of the equation that had caused problems.
Recurring theme.
Sami let out a burble, and I lifted my gaze to her, smiling as she gazed up at me so trustingly. “I don’t want you to grow up without a mom like I did, baby girl. You deserve so much more than I had. You deserve Bee. But maybe I don’t deserve her. She’s so much smarter than I am, and she’s used to having a family. I’m used to being alone. I thought I liked it, but I don’t. I don’t want an empty house anymore.”
I rubbed Samantha’s porcelain cheek, pleased when she tried to grab my finger. I moved closer and she tried again, succeeding this time. Like the Grinch, my heart swelled three times bigger.
“We’ll have to watch that together, Sami. You’ll love it. The old cartoon one, I mean. None of this new stuff with Jim Carrey. The first one is a classic. I wasn’t quite as bad as the Grinch. I didn’t hate Christmas. I just didn’t love it.”
I hadn’t known how.
Even that was changing. Everything was. Especially me.
“I told Bee I couldn’t go to the tree lighting because of work. It’s true. I’m working. But I scheduled that shift after she asked. All those families together, all that sweetness makes my teeth ache. I was smug and superior and didn’t need any of that. Now she’s going to go with someone else.”
I fought to get a Pampers out of the box one-handed because I liked the feel of that little finger clutching mine too much. The diaper got stuck and the box fell over with a crash, sending Sadie flying back into the room as the baby started to cry.
“Aww, sweetie, you’re okay. Daddy’s just having a bad day.” I picked her up and jiggled her on my hip, wondering if it was safe to dance her around the room with Sadie dogging our heels when the kid had a bare bottom.
I was suddenly very glad she wasn’t male.
She was still crying, looking absolutely pitiful. What the hell? No one else was here but Sadie, and she couldn’t complain about my singing.
I ran through my arsenal of remembered songs quickly as I carted her downstairs to make up a bottle. I started with “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall”, which led to “London Bridge” and “Hotel California”. That one I definitely flubbed the lyrics in the second half, but the baby seemed oddly fascinated by my voice. It was raspy and deep and not at all melodic.
Luckily, she couldn’t throw tomatoes.
Sadie kept trying to jump up to check on her while I moved around the kitchen. She settled once I leaned down to show her the baby was fine, and Samantha let out one of her heart-melting hiccupy giggles when Sadie delicately licked her chin.
I kept singing as I got the bottle ready, landing on “Another Brick in the Wall” this time. Gina had taught me not to microwave the formula since the liquid didn’t heat evenly. I warmed up the bottle under the running water and then headed back upstairs to hurriedly put a diaper on her—she was still pee-free, thankfully—and dress her in one of her selection of fuzzy fleece winter onesies, this one decorated with fat white owls. I lifted her up and she giggled, especially when I tucked her and her bottle in the second swing I’d bought for upstairs.
Slowly but surely, the guest room I’d used as an office was turning into a nursery. The blue and brown walls didn’t work for a baby though, so