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Nick takes the formula into the kitchen with him and reads the directions while making us a strong pot of coffee. I refamiliarize myself with how to change a diaper on YouTube and then he watches the video while I feed her the bottle. We tackle the first diaper change as a team, laughing when we put it on backwards the first time.
The rest of the day is research and practice. The baby is patient with us, and fusses more than she actually cries, though I bet she misses her mother. I try to use Facebook and Instagram to see if I can find the girl from the science lab, but she’s not on Devon’s friends list.
I get left alone for half an hour when Nick runs to Target for a portable crib and more supplies, just in case. When he returns, it takes him fifteen minutes to unload all the stuff he bought.
“Your living room looks like a daycare for twelve babies, not one,” I say, looking around at the swing and the diapers and new clothes and stuffed animals and somewhere a portable crib.
“What if we don’t find her tomorrow? We need to be prepared. Besides, if this baby is my niece, she’ll probably visit, so I’ll need some gear, right? I got some of those things you put in outlets but didn’t grab the ones for the cupboards.”
There he goes, being adorable again. “I think we have some time. She can’t even roll over yet.”
“I went overboard, didn’t I?”
My heart melts. “In the best way.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He’s so wonderful with the baby, who we’ve been calling “Baby” since we don’t know her name. He’s quick to soothe her when she gets upset, and he’s not putting anything off on me just because I’m the woman—if he doesn’t know what to do, he asks me if I know without assuming I do because of my gender. And then he asks me to show him or tell him or help him. We’ve been working together all day, and he’s the best partner. I can see him as a dad for sure.
Okay, I can see him as the dad of my children for sure. We’re playing house and I like it too much.
He cooks us some eggs for dinner while I give the baby another bottle. “So, Nick. Why are you single?” I finally ask what’s been on my mind all day. “You have to know your reputation on campus as a veritable god. You could have any woman you want. You seem to like kids. Why no family?”
He shrugs and chops some ham and cheese for the eggs. I think he’s making omelets. “I’ve been waiting for the right woman, I guess. My parents had a great relationship. I always wanted what they had. My dad told me I’d know when I met the one.” He stops chopping and looks at me. “What about you? What were you waiting for?”
I blush. “I wasn’t purposely waiting for anything. I guess at some point, saying I’m not ready just became a habit.”
He pauses and makes sure I’m looking at him when he speaks. “We haven’t talked about last night. Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Were you ready?”
He’s searching my gaze for something from me, but I don’t know what. “Yes. I don’t have any regrets. Do you?”
“No. Last night was perfect. I’m hoping tonight will be just as memorable.”
Heat spreads across my body. “I’d like that.”
Later, we take turns showering while the other holds Baby. It’s been a long day, and we never had time this morning, what with trying to figure out how to take care of a baby and all. I sympathize with new parents. A lot. I had a good partner today, and I know not everyone gets one of those.
When I come out, he’s standing at the window, holding the baby against his chest and singing her a lullaby with words I’m pretty sure he’s making up as he goes along. I know I gave him pieces of my heart that I would never get back last night. But watching him now, I just throw the rest of my heart at him. It’s his. I’m in love with this man, and there’s no coming back from it.
“She’s asleep,” I say quietly, walking toward him and taking her from his arms. I lay her in her crib the way the website said was best and lean down to give her a little kiss.
I turn to find him staring at me. “I couldn’t have done today without you. A lot of people would have hit the ground running. But you stayed. Thank you for staying.”
I never even thought of leaving. “A lot of people wouldn’t have kept her. You’re a good man.”
“With you at my side, I’m a better man, anyway.”
Oh, the feelings he’s churning up. He knows I’m a sure thing, right? He could just take out his penis, and I’d be all “okey dokey.” He doesn’t have to woo me with all these perfect words.
He takes my hand. “I want you to know that you wouldn’t have to be alone, if not using condoms last night got you pregnant, you wouldn’t have to do anything alone.”
“I know.”
