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“Got a lot on my mind, Grams.”
Like avoiding that weird little… thing you’re holding.
It’s like she reads my mind. “Well, you could probably help some of that by getting acquainted with your daughter.”
She gives Violet a little bounce. The girl squeals.
I cringe.
“Don’t do that.”
Gramma raises a brow and squints at me over Violet’s head. “Why not? She likes it.”
“She makes… noise.”
“She’s a baby, Reese. Of course she’s going to make noise. You made noise when you were a baby.”
Yeah—and Dad probably beat the shit out of me for it. “I just… she’s just… Fuck, forget about it. I’ve just had a long day.” I’m not going to admit to my grandmother that the baby—I refuse to call her my baby—is freaking me out. “Been trying to figure out who her mother could be.”
“So many options to choose from, hm?”
If I didn’t know my grandma, I’d think she was judging me.
“The equipment still works, so it gets used. Sue me.”
She purses her lips. “Perhaps you should take a break from trying to find the woman who abandoned your daughter and take some time to get to know your daughter instead?”
I grimace. How do you even get to know a baby? The conversations tend to be pretty one-sided.
I shake my head. “I can’t even if I wanted—I mean, I just don’t have time, Grams. With practice and the season starting up.”
“Reese, you’ve barely held?—”
I cut in. “So anyway, I’ve been looking into nannies. Did you know there’s a whole industry for people who just watch other people’s kids? Like, twenty-four-seven?”
Grams is not impressed. This time, she’s definitely judging me, no doubt about it.
Suddenly, I feel like a kid again. My grandmother never yelled at me, never hit me. She never had to and still doesn’t. And yet when she tightens her mouth like that, I feel small all the same.
Dad made that same face. The only difference between Grams and my father is that I actually care what she thinks of me.
“You’re going to have some stranger look after your daughter?” she snaps. “What in the world has possessed you to do something like that?”
“Grams, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” I sigh, turning the screen toward her so she can see the files I have pulled up. Dozens of nannies, a bunch of agencies. Women who were trained to do this… kid thing. “Those people do know what they’re doing. They have education. They have experience. And, you know, I didn’t ask for this. She was just… dumped on me.”
Grams clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Her disappointment continues to waft off her. If there’s anything that I hate, it’s disappointing her.
What else am I supposed to do, though? Embrace fatherhood? I don’t even know what being a father is. I never had an example I’d actually want to follow.
Before I can apologize, or try to soothe Gram’s irritation, she plops Violent in my arms. I fumble with the infant. My body is stiff with discomfort. Violet is all soft and squishy and breakable, and she should not be in my arms.
My body was made for contact sports. For giving and receiving pain. Not delicate things like holding babies.
“Grams—”
“Take some time to get to know your daughter,” she orders. “You didn’t ask for this, but neither did she. She’s here because of you. And one way or another, you’re responsible for that, Reese. I’m willing to help. But I’m well past my full-time child-rearing days. You are her father. Believe in your abilities to be one as much as you believe in yourself out on that ice.” Grams pats my cheek, her expression softening. “I have to head back home tomorrow, but I’ll be around, Reese’s Cups. You know I will. Just take it one day at a time. I raised five girls. It’s not as bad as you think it is.”
She kisses me on the top of the head the way she’s done since I was a little boy, then turns and slips out of my office.
