when she burst into tears. “I can’t do this,” she wailed. “I can’t do this.” Her face dropped into her hands, and she shook her head.
He reacted with alarm and said the first words popping into his head. “Please don’t leave me.”
It came as quite an eye-opening surprise to discover blond hair could pulse and shoot sparks. How did she do that?
“Leave you? Leave you?” she spat disbelievingly. Her expression made him feel like the stupidest man alive.
Her hands flew everywhere, and no joke, for a brief second, he questioned the safety of his good ball. Sharply tapping her head, the universal sign for idiot alert, his lady love snarled, “Do you actually imagine in that thick skull of yours that all of this is about you? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Her voice rose slightly until it shook with incredulity and anger. The baby stirred, and Summer looked like she was considering whether or not to smack him.
“It’s about me, you shithead. Me. The girl you abandoned. The girl whose entire life went into the shitter because of you and the choices you made. Apparently, a year hasn’t made a lick of difference because here you are again acting all big and bad and like you own the whole damn world.” She snapped her fingers to punctuate her words. “Bam, bam, bam. Decisions made for me, about me, affecting me, but am I involved? Consulted? My feelings or wants considered? No!”
The explosion was impressive, and her argument incredibly strong. He should have shut up and said nothing, but did he? Ha!
“Okay, so we clearly have some things to work out.” He thought he sounded reasonable and self-controlled, but she looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“Things to work out?” Her tone came off as brittle as the words.
Ari complained when her mom’s voice rose. It was a parenting wake-up for him. They were a family of three now.
“Great. See what you’ve done? Now the baby is up.”
What he’d done? Was she kidding? He’d barely said a word.
Welcome to day one of the Relationship 101 master class.
Her phone rang. She dug it out of her pants and looked at it. Tension exploded, filling the small bedroom.
“What is it?”
“Shit,” she mumbled. “It’s Lynda.” She tapped the phone and answered the call. “Hi. Lynda?”
He heard Lynda’s loud bark through the phone. “Why the hell is my house wrapped in crime scene tape, Summer?”
“You’re here?” Summer replied.
“In the driveway. Bud is freaking out.”
“Stay put. I’ll be right there.” She ended the call and scrambled off the bed.
He started to follow until she whirled around and gave him an incredulous look.
“Seriously, Arnie?”
“What? I thought you could use backup.”
She stared at him so hard he felt it. “Backup? Really? Gee, let me think,” she hissed. “Oh, I have an idea. How about you stay here and deal with your daughter? Hmm? Sound like a plan?”
His blinking eyes tapped out Morse code for fuck my life.
“Everything you need is at the changing table. Diapers, wipes, onesies.” Before she left, Summer issued a terse wake-up reality check.
“Don’t make me regret trusting you with her.”
She didn’t wait for his reaction or possible reply and simply darted from the room.
He watched her go. Then he turned to look at Ari. Shit. He didn’t know anything about changing a tiny infant. Turning to the commonly recognized encyclopedia of everything, he did a quick YouTube search and found a first-time dad explaining the process in a step-by-step instructional video.
The first words of advice were way helpful. Check for supplies before putting the baby on the changing table. In short order, he performed an itemized inventory of Ari’s changing station.
Wedging his phone in a corner where he could see it while the instructional presentation played, Arnie put some steel in his spine, and drawled, “If I can survive traipsing around war zones, I can master changing a baby.”
Crossing his fingers, he navigated the small room. Gazing into the crib, he marveled at the tiny pink bundle and said a silent prayer for luck as he slid his fingers underneath his daughter’s little body and lifted. She complained but didn’t cry. He found her grunts and squeaks adorable.
At the changing table, he studied the blanket wrapping and asked his daughter for help.
“I don’t suppose you could help daddy figure out how to crack the code on this? Do I pull on a corner and unroll you like a cigar?”
“Goooo.” Startling blue eyes gazed up at him. Her little mouth