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“She looks like me, don’t you think? Don’t you think?” Eleanor’s mother asked while holding up Sophia to her eyes.
“Well, I am her mother, and you are my mom, so —” Eleanor said, shaking her head.
There was definitely a resemblance between Sophia and Betty, of course. But there was even more of a resemblance between Sophia and Eleanor, and Eleanor wouldn’t let her mom forget it. Sophia had Eleanor’s sparkling green eyes, and in her imagination, at least, Sophia already looked like a little librarian. Her light-blonde locks of hair were exactly the same color as her mother’s.
“You’re showing off the sarcasm gene, I see.” I smiled at Eleanor and Betty. “Cheers.” I toasted them with a bottle of baby formula I’d prepared for Sophia.
Betty took her phone out of her pocket to add to her photo collection of the baby. Protectively of my daughter but trying to be polite to my almost mother-in-law, I lightly gripped Betty’s phone.
“Flash off, right?” I asked.
“Of course. We didn’t know that when Eleanor was a kid, though. Must be why she wears thick glasses now.” Betty looked at her daughter with a laugh.
“Or maybe I wear thick glasses because I’m such a hardworking librarian?” Eleanor said in protest. In her worn t-shirt and sweatpants, she didn’t look much the part of librarian — more like a librarian on indefinite maternity leave, which was precisely what she was.
“I heard Eleanor had to wear glasses to find her ex-boyfriend’s cock.” I nodded matter-of-factly at Eleanor and Betty. They both rolled their eyes.
“Can we stop bickering and just give Sophia her formula, please?” Betty was the voice of reason and practical motherly experience. She’d raised Eleanor, after all, as well as having unofficially raised the neighborhood’s wayward kids. She lay her hand on tiny Sophia’s belly the same way I had lay my hand on Eleanor’s pregnant belly.
I passed the formula to Eleanor. She passed the bottle to Betty. Betty was still the expert. “Give her the bottle like this,” she said while putting the bottle in Sophia’s hands, with the nipple to the little baby’s mouth.
“She’s drinking.” My love was beaming. “She always drinks right away when you give her the bottle. She never wants to drink when the bottle is from me.”
“Because of the way you give her the bottle. You’re so scared when you do it. She might think it’s pee or something.” Betty shook her head — a grandmotherly head-shake — and looked at Eleanor, then at me. “You have to be confident when you give her the formula. Show her that you’re sure this stuff is good for her. Otherwise, a baby won’t trust it.”
Betty would still have a lot to teach us, and she lived near enough to New York City to make that a real possibility.
“You two ready for another diaper-changing lesson?”
“Oh shit.” Eleanor sniffed at Sophia’s crib. “I don’t smell shit. Are you sure?”
“I can tell from the way she moves. She’s definitely got cargo in her diaper.” Betty lifted up the baby without asking. She started walking to the bathroom with Sophia, then looked behind her to make sure we were following behind. We were.
“We’re real parents now,” I whispered to Eleanor. I snuck a kiss on her ear.
“We’re raising a baby and cleaning up shit and everything.” Eleanor nodded.
I grabbed her hand and held her back slightly. “We should get married.”
She looked up at me. “Are you asking?”
I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. “I mean, I guess, I am. Should I get down on one knee?”
My love laughed as well. She pulled me in for a kiss. Before she could answer, Betty yelled for us to hurry up.
We walked to the bathroom behind Eleanor’s mother. I pressed my face into her shoulder blades. “I love you,” I whispered.
Eleanor turned her head and whispered back to me. “I love you. And I love our family.” I kissed the back of her neck again, then lightly nibbled, feeling the very edges of her hairline.
Betty piped up from in front of us. “No need to hide your love. You can say it loud. I’m proud of you two.”
I flushed red upon having been caught in a PDA moment by my sort-of mother-in-law. “Sorry. We’re just a bit — passionate about each other.”
Betty nodded, wisely, maternally. “Let’s see who’s passionate about cleaning baby shit.”
Epilogue - Eleanor
“Welcome to your new house, Sophia! Happy birthday! You’re five today!” I announced it to Sophia, to Aiden, to my mom, and to the world. I’d made it to where I’d always wanted to be in life. I had not only a perfect husband but a perfect daughter, a perfect family, and a perfect house.
Sophia stood on the walkway up to the front door, looking up at the three-story townhouse's windows. In Sophia’s left hand was the pull handle of her Dora the Explorer rolling suitcase, in her right hand her prized authentic UPS messenger bag. She couldn’t carry all her possessions herself — there were movers and parents and Grandma for that — but she could at least carry her own essentials into the new house.
