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“You growing some teeth in there? Let’s see.” I reached toward her face and she turned it away, her tears ratcheting up again.
So, that wasn’t happening.
My next step was to do a search to find out how to help. Popsicles, Orajel, and a visit to the pediatrician were some of the top suggestions.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Another text from Vincent, this time saying he’d had something come up and he would appreciate me handling the morning sessions after all. We were also still a go for the overnight Friday night. Saturday would bring a full slate of meetings and social gatherings at the conference space in the Catskills, our free paper organization’s official wrap-up to the week’s activities.
I stared down at Lily. Fuck, how had I let that slip my mind?
Oh, that’s right. Spending the day with Hannah and Lily. Sleeping with Hannah. Finding out she was pregnant. Getting drunk. Sleeping with her again.
All of that was enough to make anyone forget, I’d say.
And Lily was still crying.
“I’ll pick up some Orajel for you tonight, honey. Or Hannah will.”
Lily’s tears slowed and she blinked at me.
“Hannah?” I tried again, just to see her reaction.
She burped.
Close enough to a smile.
I smiled at her, about to rise to transfer her back to her crib, when she burped again and spit up on my shirt.
Glancing down, I sighed. It wasn’t as much spit up as usual, which made sense since she hadn’t eaten recently. Maybe this was related to teething?
Who the hell knows?
Why wasn’t there a comprehensive handbook for being a father? I didn’t mean one of those that glossed over the basics. I wanted one that dealt with every possibility in detail and with pictures.
Unless the pictures would scar me for life.
I picked her up and set her back in her bed, speaking soothingly to her all the while. Then I took off my suit coat and undid the buttons on my shirt before removing it and stepping into the hall. I was just tugging my undershirt up from behind my head—she’d soaked me clear through both—when Hannah’s door opened down the hall. She stepped out just as I yanked it off the rest of the way.
I gripped my shirts in my fist, taking in the sight of her in the top from yesterday that barely skimmed her thighs. Her hair was wild around her shoulders and her eyes were sleepy and soft, rousing me in unspeakable ways. Especially when her gaze dropped to my bare chest and lingered there before she looked up again and licked her lips.
“Must you do that?” I said under my breath.
Without giving her time to answer, I turned to head into the master suite with its connecting bathroom.
She followed.
“Do what exactly? Breathe your air? Exist on your planet? Complicate your tidy little world?”
“That’s a good one.” I tossed the soiled shirts in the hamper and grabbed a handful of tissue to wipe my chest with soapy water.
“Why are you naked?”
“I’m not naked. I have trousers on.” Ones that were becoming more uncomfortable by the second.
Did her voice always sound that seductively low in the morning?
“Lily?” she guessed.
“Yes. I think she’s teething. Can you get her some Orajel today? If you’re able to,” I added in an attempt to be conciliatory.
