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Huh.

I bet she was good at her job. She had this bottomless-energy thing about her. Something perky and shiny, the thing news anchors pretend to have on air.

“So that’s why I don’t really see you around,” I said. “You’re gone a lot.”

“Oh, I’m around.” She gave me a wry smile. “You probably just weren’t looking.”

Grace started making noises from her swing. Vanessa got up and grabbed a bottle from the dishwasher. I watched her as she had her back to me. She had a nice ass. A nice everything, actually.

I tore my eyes away from Vanessa leaning against the counter to get formula from a cabinet. “How old are you?” I asked, looking for something to talk about.

“Twenty-eight.” She measured formula with a scoop. “How tall are you?”

“Six-two.”

“So tall,” she said, filling the bottle with water. She twisted her lips into a smile. “If I need something from a high cabinet, can I text you to come grab it for me? Or would that be abusing my new phone number privileges?”

I chuckled. “Sure.”

“And I have a hard time with jar lids. Weak hands.” She wiggled her fingers. “Can I count on you for that too?”

“Why not.”

“Sweeeet,” she said, scooping formula into the bottle. “I’m going to do that, you know.”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin and nodded at the swing. “I’ll feed her. You eat.”

She shook the bottle with her finger over the tip. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I got up to wash my hands and joined her by the sink. “You just have to show me how to do it.”

“You’ve never fed a baby?” she asked, looking up at me.

I dried my hands on a paper towel. “I’ve never done anything with a baby. This is the first baby I’ve ever held.”

“Really? Well, you’re a natural.”

I walked to the swing, leaned down, picked up Grace the way Vanessa had showed me this morning, and sat back at the table.

Vanessa crouched next to me. “It’s pretty easy.” She put the bottle in Grace’s mouth and the baby sucked on it hungrily, making little cooing noises. “Just keep it angled like this so she doesn’t get bubbles in her stomach.”

Vanessa’s head was just a few inches under my nose as she leaned over Grace with the bottle and again I thought about how good her hair smelled. It was better without the vomit.

I took the bottle, and Vanessa sat back down to her food.

“Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?” she asked. “Here? After we eat? I feel like I’m in solitary confinement. I am bored out of my mind, and I just wanna hang out with somebody.”

Now that I’d torn off the Band-Aid and come over, I realized I wouldn’t mind staying. I’d officially had about all I could handle of the Keller transcripts for one day. And frankly I didn’t love the idea that I’d be going back to my empty apartment in a few minutes to sit around dwelling on the Rachel/Mom/Richard situation until I got tired enough to go to sleep. Why not.

“Sure,” I said, looking at Grace but talking to Vanessa.

“Yay! So what do you want to watch?”

“Whatever you want is fine,” I said, smiling down at Grace. She was falling asleep while she ate, nodding off with milk pooling around the sides of her little mouth.

She was so small. Trusting.

I’d never really been sure I wanted kids. I’d always been worried I’d screw it up. That I’d somehow fail them. I hadn’t really had a good childhood myself. My parents had a tumultuous marriage. Then Dad left, and I’d practically raised myself from that point on. I hadn’t exactly been shown a good example.