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“Hello,” he said, no familiarity lacing his tone. He could’ve been answering an unknown number. Maybe he was. Maybe he’d deleted her contact.
Maybe she should take it as a sign and hang up.
“Leigh, are you there, or is this a pocket dial?”
“I’m here.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked, after several beats of awkward silence.
“That’s what I was wondering. If everything is okay with you. You and the baby.”
He responded with a half laugh, half grunt. “Do you want a short, polite answer, or the truth?”
“I thought you always gave me the whole, unfiltered truth.”
“I did, because we were together.”
Ouch. A well-deserved ouch. “I still want the truth from you. I always will.”
“Always implies there’ll be more conversations after this one.” Damn him, calling her out on her intentions.
A woeful cry filled the background from Sam’s side of the call.
“Already? Shit. Don’t hang up.” A clatter followed his command, probably as his cell connected with whatever hard surface he’d hurriedly placed it on. The next thing to come through the line was Sam’s voice, indirect and semi-distant, yet undeniably clear. “It’s okay, Daddy’s got you. Sshh…you’re okay. You can’t be hungry again already. You don’t feel wet.” A weary sigh mingled with the baby’s crying. “I wish you could tell me what’s wrong. Daddy needs you to sleep more than fifteen minutes at a time.”
On the edge of her office chair, Leigh pressed the phone tightly to her ear. She bit back the urge to call out to him with advice. Her opinions or words of encouragement had no place there. She’d seen to that.
“Are you gassy, is that it? Let’s try again for a burp.” Muffled noise filtered through the speaker, then the distinct sound of an infant belch. “That’s better. You’re okay.” The crying stopped, replaced by a sound that could only be kissing. “Daddy loves you so much. Go back to sleep, little angel.”
Regardless of what he said, Leigh had an honest answer to her question of how he and the baby were doing.
“Still there?” he asked, returning to the line a few minutes later.
“Yes.” She had so much to say. And no right to say any of it. “Sounds like you’ve got the hang of parenthood already.”
He laughed softly. “Thanks. It sure doesn’t feel that way.”
“Don’t hold your breath waiting for that feeling to change.”
“Damn. I was really hoping you’d tell me not to worry, that I’d feel like super dad any day now.”
“From what I just overheard, you’re well on your way to super dad status, whether you feel like it or not.”
A many-seconds-long yawn made its way through the line. “Sorry. Haven’t been getting much sleep. I’ve definitely achieved supertireddad status.”
“You’re staying at your parents’ house, correct?”
“Until my condo sells, yes. No point asking for an exception to the no-kids rule. Not with Fewster in the unit next door.”
No, she supposed not. That miserable woman probably didn’t have a compassionate bone in her body. Sam’s mother, on the other hand, had seemed warm and loving.
“What about your parents? I know you’re all really close. Have they been helping out with the—” Time she stopped referring to Sam’s baby as a generic human being. “With Sachi?”
“They’re not here.”
“Where are they?”
“Europe, for two more weeks. They were here when I brought Sachi home from the hospital, but they left the next day for an extended vacation. My mom offered to cancel it but I told her no. They’ve waited a long time for that trip. I was sure I could handle everything on my own, no problem.” He laughed. “I have since learned otherwise.”
