baby noises and moving her arms and legs around a lot, but not full on crying. I give her a teething ring to gnaw on. When she’s settled, I lean back on my elbows, staring at the water. The surface ripples with the breeze.
I don’t know how long I stay like that, staring off into space, but the sun is warm and my mind is blank and my eyes are unfocused, and it feels really good to not think. When my phone buzzes again, I snap to attention. The sun is hitting the lake at a different angle now. I have a feeling I was zoned out for a while. Good.
It’s another text from Joni—but this one has an audio file attached to it. Thought you might need this. I hit play.
At first I can’t identify the sound coming from my phone. It’s not a song, I can tell that much. It’s not someone talking either. I push the volume as high as it will go, and it finally hits me. It’s Joni’s room. The street sounds, the fountain. It’s the soundtrack of Washington Square Park. I can’t help it—I smile. A real smile, the kind only Joni is able to get out of me lately. I place the phone between me and Hope, and I watch, amazed, as it lulls her to sleep. Holy shit. It’s like riding in the car but better.
Thank you, I write back. Joni has no idea what a gift she just gave me. One day, I’ll tell her.
About twenty feet away, a couple of girls set up a blanket on the grass. A blond and a redhead, both wearing dark sunglasses. They’re around my age, but I’ve never seen them before. Maybe they’re in college. They strip out of their shorts and tank tops and stand there in nothing but tiny bikinis, spreading sunscreen on their arms and legs and stomachs and—Jesus—their tits.
I can’t look away. My mouth goes dry. They’re so incredibly hot.
Then one of them moves her hair aside, and the other girl lotions up her back. I swallow.
I really need to have sex. Not a relationship. Not love. Just sex. When was the last time I even…uh…relieved myself? I can’t remember. How fucking sad is that.
But really. If I’m not at work, I’m at soccer, and if I’m not at soccer, I’m either in the presence of a crying baby or so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open. What am I supposed to do, say, “Oh hey, Mom, can you take Hope for ten minutes so I can go jerk off in peace?”
The blond catches me staring, and I look away quickly as she says something to her friend. Don’t stare, you idiot. You used to be smoother than this. I keep my eyes focused solely on the water ahead of me for as long as I can stand it, and when I finally look back, the girls are coming my way.
Shit.
I sit up straighter, praying to God the crease in my jeans hides my boner.
“Hey,” the blond says.
The redhead just smiles.
“Hey,” I say.
“We were wondering if you wanted to—omigod, is that a baby?!” Their eyes go all gooey, and they’ve got these sappy grins on their faces.
“So, Ryden,” Jaime says, pulling her hair over one shoulder and swaying coyly back and forth. “You want to come hang out with us? We’ve got plenty of room on our blanket. And we have wine coolers.”
Tempting, but no. For about a hundred thousand reasons.
“No, thanks. I’m cool.”
Jaime and Emory pout, their expressions so identical I have a sudden hilarious vision of them practicing the look in the mirror together. “Okay, well, we’ll be right over there if you change your mind.”
I nod.
They turn to go, but Jaime turns back. “By the way, what are you listening to? It’s weird.”
Hey, don’t dis my miracle baby sleep inducer. “It’s Washington Square Park,” I say and leave it at that. She shrugs and walks away.
A year and a half ago, that whole scenario would have gone very differently.
I lie back on the grass, keeping one hand on Hope’s belly to make sure she stays where she is, and close my eyes. She grabs my finger in her sleep. It’s not very long before the New York sounds pumping from my phone combined with the rise and fall of my hand