Blake cracked up. “Nigga, what? You climbed a freakin’ mountain. You hiked through the South American rainforest. You can take the baby’s temperature.”
Swallowing, I asked her to stay on the phone with me while I did it. I walked over to the baby and peered down at him. Even through his tears, he smiled when he noticed me.
“Let me see him,” she asked.
I flipped the camera.
“Oh my God, he’s adorable. I can’t wait to bite those chunky legs.”
I chuckled, remembering the nickname Gemma had given him. “His mama called him Chunk.”
When I changed the camera view again, I noticed the soft expression on Blake’s face, the tears in her eyes. “Then, that’s what we’ll call him, too.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get there.”
“I understand. Sometimes life doesn’t cooperate with plans.”
“I can’t even find my purse some days chasing after this kid. And Lennox wants more? Sheeiiitttt.”
After Blake gave birth to my third nephew, Kendrix Michael Cole, she’d announced that it was a one-and-done. Then, she apologized to Bliss, Dallas, Tyn, and Charlye for not taking them seriously during their pregnancies. It was a rare concession from the sister who literally had zero fucks to give formostlyeverything.
Ezra’s cry softened, and once again, he smiled. “He’s calming down,” I said.
“Now is the perfect time then. Rotate the camera again so I can see what you’re doing.”
Sighing heavily, I turned it around again and removed his pamper.
“Okay, nephew,” Blake said. “You’re going to make one woman very happy.”
A smile pulled at my lips, and for the first time, I felt a little pride. Just like my father said I would. “Shut the hell up,” I murmured.
“Just sayin’. Did you clean that thing?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Boy, take yo’ ass in that bathroom and wash that thermometer. Use warm soap and rubbing alcohol. Don’t forget the Vaseline.”
While Blake talked to Ezra in her nice-auntie voice, I grabbed a new diaper, another onesie, a pair of socks, and everything else I needed. Quickly, I washed the thermometer. By the time I returned to Ezra, he was on his knees and dancing to a made-up potty song she was singing.
“B, he’s not even one and you’re singing him a potty-training song?”
“It’s never too early. I learned a hard lesson after Kendrix pooped in the window seat while I wasn’t looking. Took his diaper off and everything. Nasty work.”
I laughed. “Nephew was wildin’.”
“Right?”
My sister walked me through the entire process, giving me step-by-step instructions. As expected, Ezra didn’t like that shit. It didn’t take long, though. And he didn’t have a fever. Now I could breathe a little better.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said. “He’s probably just sleepy or missing his mama.”
I miss his mama, too. “Makes sense.”
“Keep an eye on him and call back if you need me.”
“Appreciate you, sis.”
