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He chokes again.
“What will you do when you have kids of your own?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Easy, I don’t plan on having any.”
I back-step from down the hall. “What?”
“The way tonight’s going, I’m not sure kids are for me.”
“Just watch her.” I point at Cecilia and head back down the hall.
Digging through Beth’s drawers, I find a sweatshirt that says, “I just married him.” The woman needs to do laundry. I was stuck in Akron, Ohio, this past Saturday. Sam couldn’t have taken over for me?
Cecilia cries again as I’m wetting my hair to try to get the throw-up out. I understand the whole mom ponytail now. I secure my hair up on top of my head with Beth’s holder then spray some perfume on me so I don’t smell like barf. After grabbing my shirt and a bunch of their clothes, I throw them into their small washer and start it.
Cecilia continues to cry, and I growl out of frustration. “Pick her up!”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
I stomp down the hall, glare at him, and swiftly pick her up, but instead of holding her, I place her in his arms. “This is what we’re here for. I’m not doing all the work. We’re a team.”
His eyes widen as one hand cradles her head and the other holds her butt.
Not having time to deal with his immature attitude, I head to the kitchen and start cleaning all the bottles and dishes for Beth and Sam. A second later, I realize Cecilia isn’t crying.
I finish the bottles, fill the dishwasher, and start it. When I walk over to the couch, Enzo’s holding Cecilia to his chest, but he still looks incredibly awkward. He’s staring at her as though she’s talking to him, but her eyes are shut.
“Here.” I take her from him. “Slide onto the couch.”
He does.
“Open your arms. I’m going to cradle her in them.”
He does. I place her in his arms and prop a pillow under the one that isn’t on the armrest. Beth showed me that trick after I thought my arm would fall off. I flip on the television.
“Can you turn up the volume?” he asks.
“Nope. This is the setting for when she’s in the room.”
He rolls his eyes. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.”
“Want me to sit next to you?”
“Is that a trick question?” Just like that, the Enzo I know—the flirty and fun-loving one—returns.
I go over the notes for tonight. Beth wrote down clear instructions about bath time, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified. A slippery and slimy baby sounds like a challenge.
“She has to take a bath,” I say to Enzo.
He tries to hand her to me.
“There’s no Annie in team,” I say and put my hands up in front of me.
He laughs. “She’s cute, you know. She scrunches up her nose right before she releases a deadly fart. And a second ago, her hand wrapped around my finger.”
I slide closer to see her and lay my head on his shoulder, staring at my niece. “She’s the cutest baby ever born.”
“I’m sure you were cute.”
