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Evie
The next morning is so weird.
The suns are up, and bright daylight streaks through the windows. I stretch on the couch and rub at my eyes and then look over at the precious red-skinned, white-winged baby asleep next to me in her soft basket.
That’s right—I’m now living with a baby.
Her sparkling black eyes start to flutter open, so I race over to the bathroom and go pee while I still have a chance. That baby is darling, but I’ve already learned she’s a full-time job, the type where you hardly have a moment to yourself!
I chuckle as I walk back down the hallway, thinking how my writer friends I work with on the vid net are going to freak out when I tell them I’ve taken in an adorable, red-skinned baby with wings. I’m caring for someone’s baby, and I have no idea when the parents are returning. They all know I don’t even have pets, so this leap to “baby” is shocking.
I pause and blink. Wait, should I tell anyone? Maybe I need to keep this whole arrangement to myself since I didn’t immediately give her up to the authorities? Well, shoot, now I have no one I can ping and chat with and ask for advice.
I’m on my own. That sucks.
I stride back down the hall and frown because my robe is too warm and the floors aren’t cold. I stop in front of the heater and see it’s been turned up. How is that possible? I would never turn it up that high. I turn it back down to where it should be. I have a budget to keep.
“Just a sec, sweetie,” I yell out to the now-squirming baby, who is obviously awake and alert, waiting for me to pick her up again. “Let me get into the kitchen first and get some coffee and a bottle for you and then we’ll sit together, okay?” I grab my tablet off the couch, which is next to Lyla’s basket to start doing research on how to care for her because I don’t know a damn thing about babies. What’s weird is I could swear the tablet was left in my bedroom, but now it’s next to where I was sitting. Hmm. I must’ve forgotten I brought it here last night before I fell asleep.
In the kitchen I discover the Traq-maker has already made my favorite mug of Traq, which is ready and waiting. Ooh, that’s nice. I guess I forgot I programmed it before I went to bed last night? How do I keep forgetting all of this?
My house sure smells good this morning. And it’s not just the scent of Traq, there’s something else, something almost…
And that’s when I notice all the boxes I’d stacked the night before are gone. Oh no! I had some in the dining area next to the chairs and… I poke my head out to the front room and see that those are gone too.
“Lyla,” I yell out, “where are all your boxes?” I put my hand over my mouth and whimper in distress. The supplies. Did someone steal them while I slept?
I race over and pick up Lyla out of her basket and hold her tight in my arms. “Baby, who did this? How am I going to feed and care for you now without those supplies? And, oh my gods, you know this means someone was in here while we slept, right?”
I swiftly check both the front and back doors and find them locked, as well as all the windows. There are no signs of forced entry. And now I’m even more confused. I’d left the front door unlocked on purpose, hoping Lyla’s mother would be able to return if necessary.
And then I stop in my tracks because when I reenter the kitchen, I finally realize the bottles and formula that used to be in a box, are all nicely lined up onto the kitchen counters. This is obviously the contents of that first box. I glance down at Lyla, who is patiently sucking on two fingers she’s placed in her mouth.
“Who did this?” I question.
And then I notice more changes to my kitchen.
“Hold on, is that a brand new, next gen food dispenser? Where did the old one go and why didn’t I hear this switch-out happening?” I step forward and touch the new appliance reverently with the tips of my fingers, looking at all the different types of foods offered on the display. “Oh wow,” I tell Lyla, “You know I can make human food with this.” Hot tears sting at my eyes. “The old dispenser was always breaking down and I wanted to purchase a new one but was waiting for a sale.” I open the door to the dispenser and that’s when I see that there’s not just a warm cup of Traq in my kitchen, ready to go, but there’s also a warmed bottle of formula ready for me to use to feed the baby. I let out a squeak of joy. “Lyla, look, this is for you. This means I can always preprogram this food dispenser and it will keep your bottle at the perfect temperature. Someone is really trying to take care of the both of us.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I turn around and stare out the windows. “Who left all of this? And…oh wow, what else did they do? Let’s go check.”
I leave our drinks behind for a moment and take Lyla with me on a more rushed and thorough inspection of my home. All of the boxes are gone because they’ve been opened and their contents placed in the appropriate locations in each room.
I find a crib in my home office. I turn around in a circle, sweeping the baby in my arms along with me. A giggle escapes my lips. “Lyla, can you believe this? Where did this come from? How did this get here?” My desk is in a corner and now there’s a crib and a changing table against the other walls. There’s even a dresser in here, with lots of baby clothes neatly stacked. Nice. I’m not even annoyed that my workspace has been invaded by baby items. Not in the least.
“Oh Lyla, look what’s been left for you, baby. This is all for you.” I place Lyla on her fancy changing table with everything a baby could ever need. “Okay, let’s work on getting you changed. You’re being so very patient with me, and I appreciate it.”
It takes me a while, trying to figure out how to change her diaper. I’ve never done this before in my life. I try to hurry because her wings and tail twitch and her tiny kicks alert me to the fact that she’s growing impatient with the need to have her breakfast. I finally get her cleaned and changed and her old stinky diaper goes right into the incinerator. The fresh diaper I placed on her isn’t exactly positioned nice and neat because it’s difficult to do this while avoiding the tail and wings, but it will do. The house is warm enough that I leave her with only the diaper on and nothing else.
I carry her out with me into the front room and grab my coffee and her bottle, ready to settle us both into the couch. And I gasp out loud when I find another, handwritten note on parchment paper. How did I miss this new message from her mother? I settle Lyla in my lap and start to feed her, and I read the note out loud for the both of us:
I am Lyla’s father. I have left all you will need to care for my daughter. If you need more supplies, leave me a message here overnight and I will procure it for you. Thank you for caring for my infant.
Her father? This whole time I thought her mother had left her behind and instead it’s her father I’ve been dealing with. What happened to her mother? That fabulous, mysterious smell in my house is…her father? My eyes widen, imagining a male who looks just like Lyla, with a tail and wings, inside my house.
I look at the note again, realizing this is his handwriting. This was on my Traq table for me to find when I awoke, but I’d sprinted for the bathroom and didn’t notice it until now. He held this paper in his claw and left it here for me. This means he was right here, very close, watching me sleep. And somehow, this causes heat to bloom between my thighs because it dawns on me that I’ve been smelling him in my house and he smells so very good.
I continue to sip at my coffee and feed Lyla and ponder the situation.
