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Yael
Iwould take a bullet, jump in front of a speeding train, or walk across broken glass for the human being currently making me want to do all those things at once.
“Baby, baby, baby, how can I help you?” My coo sounded ragged, exhausted, nearly defeated.
The love of my life, angel on earth, sweetness and beauty in the flesh, headbutted me right in the chin and wailed her little heart out. Even though I saw stars, I kept pacing the thick rug covering the hardwood floors. Pacing and patting. Jiggling and humming. All the tricks that normally worked were getting a big ol’ middle finger tonight.
I sagged against the ugly-ass burnt-orange glider tucked in the corner, my eyes drifting shut despite the impossibly loud cries of rage and frustration emitting from the tiny body squirming on my chest. I understood her on a base level. I wanted to cry too, but if I did, I might not stop.
“Simone, baby, you’ll feel so much better if you sleep. I promise, sleep is the best.”
My niece wouldn’t be convinced. Six months old and she already thought she knew everything.
Barely on day two of this babysitting gig, and I was inches from throwing in the towel. How my brother and his wife dealt with this sweet, wailing angel on a daily basis, I had no clue.
No…I knew. She didn’t hate them like she clearly hated me. She saw me for what I was: an incompetent fraud who couldn’t take care of herself, let alone another human being. Of course, I’d texted Mo and Mic telling them how easy it was to watch their kid so they wouldn’t worry. All lies.
Normally, when things got tough, I didn’t stick around to deal. I was a quitter from way back. The only thing I’d ever stuck with was working as my brother’s personal assistant. But I’d agreed to watch baby Simone for four days while Moses and Michaela took a much-needed respite on the west coast. In fact, I’d been so cocky, I had let them give their nanny time off too.
Simone and I were usually simpatico. I made funny faces; she giggled and drooled. We saw eye-to-eye. There had never been a niece and aunt who got along more famously.
Or so I thought.
It had all been a front—a trick to get me alone and torture me.
The only problem was Simone seemed pretty damn miserable too. She just couldn’t settle. Yesterday, I’d gotten her to nap by walking the length of Manhattan. Any time I’d stop, she’d start squirming, so I’d move. By the time we got back to my brother’s apartment, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, while I was exhausted.
It was now about a half-hour before sunrise. Simone had been up pretty much every two hours and she—was—pissed.
She’d been fed, cleaned, burped, freshly diapered...girlfriend just needed sleep. I did too, but at this point, I’d settle for some silence.
“All right, baby. We’re going to go walking. At least one of us will get some rest.” She wailed at the injustice of it all, her little chin quivering. “I know, Simmy. I know. You miss Mommy and Daddy. No doubt they miss you too.Imiss them. But you’ve got me, and I’ve got you, and that’s nothing to turn our noses up at. We’ll make do, won’t we, baby?”
Strapped into her posh little stroller, knitted blanket carefully tucked around her legs, we headed down the elevator and outside. Fall had hit Manhattan, and the air was crisp. Of course, I only had a cardigan with me and immediately began to shiver. If the sun would rise, it might help, but today didn’t seem to be my day.
No time to dwell, though.
Within minutes, Simone passed out cold. Seeing her sooty lashes resting on her plump cheeks and her parted rosebud lips relaxed every bunched muscle in my body. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until that moment.
It wasn’t often I really cared about something. I mean, I thought I did a pretty bang-up job assisting my brother. His rock star status and continued rising fame meant he had no time for anything other than his job and his little family, so I, in turn, kept busy doing everything else. But other than that? Meh.
Except Simone. Simone, I cared about. The second I saw her tiny gummy bear body on the ultrasound, I was sprung. Damn everything to hell if I didn’t take the best care of this little girl. I’d stay awake all four days if I had to. I hoped it didn’t come to that, but I’d survive.
Probably.
Most likely.
Despite the ungodly hour, we weren’t alone on the sidewalks. I couldn’t remember ever being alone in New York. This wasn’t the city to go to for solitude—which was part of why I loved it.
An hour into my walk, we ended up at my apartment building. I was near hypothermia, so I decided to take a chance and run up for warmer clothing.
After parking the stroller just inside my door, I darted into my microscopic bedroom, leaping over piles of clean, folded laundry on the floor, and stumbled into my almost-walk-in closet. My favorite hoodie was front and center, and I wondered how I could have left home without it. I’d possibly been attempting to look respectable while staying at Mo’s fancy-ass building in my cashmere cardigan instead of my decade-old skater hoodie, but I’d take warmth over class any day of the week.
Simone was whimpering by the time I got back to the stroller. I wished I had time to make coffee, but it looked like I needed to get moving. We tiptoed into the hall, trying not to wake the neighbors—especially the one who lived directly across from me and was most certainly my brother’s spy. The frequency in which my one-night stands and bad decisions seemed to get back to Mo pretty much confirmed it.
Butterflies in my stomach, I pressed the elevator button. Then I smashed it. The elevator couldn’t come quick enough. The hallway was eerily quiet, putting me on edge.
Simone made a noise of discontent, so I rocked the stroller back and forth a few times. “It’s okay, honey girl. We’ll be back outside in a minute. Shhh.”
