And he gets right to it.
Ella lunges for Fish’s tail. Elliot tries to grab Sherlock’s ear. Gatsby backs up nervously while Cinnamon just flops down and accepts her fate as a baby jungle gym.
They’re screaming. Why are they screaming? Is this good screaming?Gatsby asks, genuinely worried.
You’d think they were used to it by now.
It’s good screaming,Sherlock assures him.Probably. Plus, I see a pizza crust under the couch so that should make up for it.
And then Elliot stands up.
“What?” I gasp.
He’s holding onto the couch, his chubby little hands gripping the cushion, and he’s staring at Cinnamon with a focus usually reserved for hostile takeovers.
“Leo,” Emmie says quietly. “Leo, he’s standing.”
“I see him,” Leo says the words without moving his lips.
Elliot lets go of the couch.
Takes one step.
Thenanother.
Then falls directly into Cinnamon’s fluffy golden side, laughing the entire time.
Emmie bursts into tears.
Leo has his phone out, taking approximately a thousand photos in rapid succession. Jasper scrambles for his phone to record video, and I’m tearing up because apparently I’m emotionally compromised by a one-year-old taking two steps before face-planting into a dog.
Did Elliot just dance a jig?Sherlock asks.Is that new?
I helped!Cinnamon gives a sharp bark.I was his emotional support fallback cushion! He couldn’t have landed so soft without me!
“Did you see that?” Emmie’s crying and laughing at the same time. “Did everyone see that?”
“We saw,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“His first steps!”
“Technically, his first two steps,” Leo corrects, still taking pictures.
Elliot is already trying again,pulling himself up on Cinnamon, who’s lying there looking extremely proud of her contribution to this developmental milestone.
Jasper appears with sparkling water and actual glasses, which feels fancy until he says, “Champagne budget, sparkling water reality.”
“I’ll take it,” Emmie says.
He pours for everyone, and we gather in a loose circle around the babies and the pets and the general chaos.
“To Elliot’s first steps,” Leo says, raising his glass.
“To Cinnamon’s emotional support cushion,” I add. “May we all fall on something soft if we need it.”
Jasper hands me a plate of cold sesame chicken and I realize I’m starving. Emmie’s already grabbed a slice of pizza. We settle onto the couch while the babies go back to their TV trance, now using various pets as pillows.
“So,” Leo says, and there’s a glint in his eye that means trouble. “Detective Wilder, how did it go tonight?”
