“Sounds like he’s wide awake. You could go pick him up out of the crib for me.” He managed a twisted grin. “See if his diaper needs changing again.”
“Right.” Nick had lived in plenty of foster homes with babies. He wasn’t afraid of a dirty diaper.
The baby’s room was dim with the thin curtains drawn, but not dark. Nick bent over the crib where Joshie was now yelling his little lungs out, his face scrunched and red. Lifting carefully— he could hear Doc and Damon in stereo saying “support his head and neck” —he raised the wriggling infant and cradled him against his shoulder. Amazing, the volume that could come from something that weighed less than a cat.
“Shh. Hushhh.” He found himself swaying in an unconscious baby-holding rhythm. Joshie hiccupped, sniffled, and burped loudly. A wet trickle of milky spit-up hit Nick’s neck. Crap. But the baby went soft and relaxed and made a squeaky-cat noise that was way too cute.
“Yeah. Was that ‘I’m sorry, Uncle Nick’?” He cupped the downy back of Joshie’s head with his hand. “Apology accepted. Is that burp all you needed? Any yucky diaper bits?” He eased the baby down onto the changing table and took a quick feel and sniff. Yep, that was obvious. Ewww.
Keeping a hand on that impossibly tiny chest, he grabbed a baby wipe to scrub at his own neck. Josh stared up at him, blue eyes hazy and unfocused in the dim light. When the crying flush receded, his little face was pale as Brian’s milky skin. Nick ditched the wipe and brushed the baby’s damp cheek with his thumb, marveling at the satin softness.
“Shall we get you cleaned up, huh?”
Charlie called from the kitchen, “Do you need help?”
“Nah, I got this.” Diapers had to be in easy reach, right? He opened the cabinet underneath and bent to reach in, while keeping the baby in place. Diapers, yeah, and a cardboard box that fell out on his foot. Cheerios. Huh? Surely the kid was too young for those? He managed an awkward squat to pick up the box one-handed and stuff it back in.
Changing a baby came back to him, especially once he remembered that the padded table had a seatbelt. Good idea. Two hands helped. He even remembered to hold the used diaper over the little naked pee-pee so he didn’t end up with baby piss in his hair. Hah, foiled again, little monster.
A few minutes later, Joshie was clean, dry, and snapped back into that ridiculous cow-print outfit. Nick wiped his hands, unlatched the seatbelt and patted Josh’s chubby baby belly. Little fists waved aimlessly, then the baby stuffed one in his mouth and sucked with wet slurping sounds.
“Are you hungry? Should we go ask your daddy?” Nick scooped him up and carried him to the kitchen. “Hey, man, your kid’s trying to eat his fist. Don’t you feed him?”
Charlie looked up at them. “He just ate. Shouldn’t need more. Anyway, starving ’em keeps them lean and mean.”
Nick snorted. “Hey, what’s with the Cheerios in the changing table? They’ll be stale before he’s old enough for them. Even I know that.”
There was something sad in Charlie’s expression. “Those are Lori’s.”
“Oh. I guess. A snack to eat out of the box?”
“No, she, um, hoards food. Around the apartment. Does Brian do that too?”
“No.” Nick frowned. “I don’t think. Like what?”
“Boxes of cereal in cupboards. Cans of SpaghettiOs tucked away in the sock drawer. Crackers on the closet shelf.”
“Ah.” That rang a distant bell. “I roomed with a kid once.” What had his name been? Daniel? No, Darryl. “His mom was an addict. When she was broke or got the munchies, she’d eat up whatever was in the house and he’d have nothing. He hoarded food too, leftovers. They’d stink real bad after a few days.” Darryl had been a skinny, nervous kid, always looking like he expected to get smacked. Nick had stepped between him and the house mom a couple of times, claiming the mess was his. He’d forgotten that, hadn’t been in that house long. He hoped Darryl had done all right, after.
“Gross. I’m glad Lori sticks with closed containers.”
“You’d think years with Marston, eating steak off bone china, would’ve made her quit worrying.”
“Mm. I think all three of the Kerrs came out of that childhood more than a bit screwed up.”
“Brian’s not screwed up!” Nick paused, lowered his voice and backtracked. “Well, not anymore. Much.” Joshie gave a little cry and then whimpered around the fingers