“Are you sure?” I ask groggily. Because as much as I love taking care of babies, I’m pretty tired. Okay, I’m delirious and running on autopilot right now. “Don’t offer it if you don’t mean it.”
“I mean it,” Zane says softly, and I pass Bentley off to him.
“Let me know if you need me,” I say.
“We will be okay, won’t we, Little Man?”
Even in my zombie state, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I squeeze his shoulder before heading off to bed.
When I wake up, the house is quiet. Sunlight is pouring through the windows, warming the room to a cozy temperature. Outside, birds are singing, and the air is salty and sweet. Everything feels lovely. And that loveliness is even more amplified when I walk into the nursery.
Zane is passed out in the rocker, an empty bottle in one hand. Bentley is lying in his crib, bright-eyed and kicking and jabbering away.
I run a hand through Zane’s hair and he stirs, looking around to get his bearings.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey. Is Bentley okay?”
“Yes. Bentley is fine,” I tell him, scooping Bentley up to show him. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I can take it from here.”
“That sounds great,” Zane groans, pushing up from the chair.
Zane heads down the hall, and I head into the kitchen, strapping Bentley into the high chair. “Alright, Sweet Boy, what’s it going to be? We have protein pancakes, egg whites, low-fat yogurt, berries, something mushy and green…” Bentley grunts, and I scrunch up my nose. “Yeah…my thought exactly.”
I make Bentley a bottle and some rice cereal mixed with banana puree. Then I grab a yogurt with some berries for myself. “You really have turned this hour upside down,” I tell him as I spoon-feed him the cereal. “You’ve turned everything upside down. But that’s okay. Some of the best things in life are unexpected. Even if they did happen in a less than ordinary way.”
Bentley makes sucking noises as he figures out how to handle the texture of the food, and I smile at him, catching some of the banana on his chin with the spoon. “You look like him,” I tell him. “Like your daddy.”
For a moment, I wonder what Bentley’s mom looks like. And what drove her to abandon her baby. I know that people have their limits, and things are almost never black and white. But it’s still hard for me, in my position, to wrap my brain around it.
Bentley knocks the spoon out of my hand with a squeal, sending a glob of banana and cereal everywhere. I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, boy,” I smile, setting everything aside. “I take it you’re finished? I also think you’re going to need a bath.”
I unstrap him and we head into the bathroom. I run the warm water and grab the baby soap, a powder-scented one, not the lavender, and unbutton him from his sticky clothes.
Bentley squeals and splashes around, sucking on the teether. I handed it to him to keep his hands busy while I wash his hair, hands, and feet.
“Are you teething?” I ask. He gnaws on the teether vigorously with his front teeth. “I think that answers that,” I say as I continue scrubbing banana out of his curls. “That would also explain all the hard nights, huh?”
Bentley just continues to splash around, and I laugh as we finish the bath. After I dress him, we play for a while, and then he yawns, ready for his morning nap.
“See?” I say as I rock him for a few minutes before laying him down. “We can start a schedule. Pretty soon we’ll have a routine that works for all of us.” I turn on his mobile and walk out of the nursery with a smile. Then I head to my bathroom. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a bath of my own, and with both boys crashed out, I am going to enjoy it to the fullest.
I take my time, using oils, a deep conditioner, and a face mask. Then I lather myself in lotion and do a vitamin C skincare routine. I haven’t done that since I crash-landed in Zane’s hot tub. My life has been off the rails since that night.
I slip into a summer dress and put on some mascara and lip gloss before heading out into the kitchen. No offense to Zane and his nine percent body fat diet, but I need more than yogurt. I am surprised to find Zane in the kitchen with Bentley.
“Oh,” I say. “That was a short nap.”
“Not really,” Zane says. “You were in the bathtub for two hours.”
“I was?” I ask, looking at the clock. “I was.”
Zane smirks. “After letting me go back to bed, I would definitely say you deserve it.”
“He’s teething,” I tell him. “I think that’s why he’s been so fussy.”
