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“Knock, knock.” Ava’s voice rang out from the living room, and though I didn’t know if I’d ever relax for as long as this baby was in my care, I did breathe out some relief as I strode to the living room with Quincy trailing me.
“The holy saint of baby food is here,” I told Juniper, even though she was hollering too loudly to hear a thing. “I owe you for life,” I told Ava.
She smiled on her way to the kitchen counter, and I was pretty sure I saw the smile turn to a grimace at the racket.
“I got the very last four-pack of baby bottles on the shelves at the Country Market,” Ava said as Quincy and I gathered around her and the grocery bags. “Formula, diapers, burp cloths, pacifiers, ointment…”
“You’re a lifesaver,” I said to Ava as Quincy started unpacking the bottles and washing them. “Both of you.”
“Hey, I’m just doing what I’m told,” Ava said. “I’m as clueless as you.”
Quincy moved at high speed, washing and drying a bottle, mixing up formula, heating it, explaining to me all the steps and how to test the temperature.
“You’ll probably want to find a comfortable place to sit while you feed her,” Quincy said. “It might take a while.”
If those weren’t daunting words…
Shaking it off, I went to the living room, still holding Juniper, with Quincy following me, bottle and cloth in hand. The sectional had two open boxes on it.
“I’ll get those,” Ava said since my hands were full of a still-squalling baby. She pulled the boxes to the floor, and I sat down stiffly. “I’m running to a big-box store in Nashville now. I’ve got the things you mentioned on a list, Quincy, and I’ll call Chloe on the way and see if she has anything to add.”
My pregnant sister-in-law would likely be on top of that.
“Thank you, Ava. You want to take my card?” I asked.
“You can pay me back. I need to go so I can get back in good time.”
She grabbed her wrist wallet and keys from the kitchen, then hurried out the door.
Quincy helped me situate Juniper so she was propped up on my arm.
“Depending on how long you’re going to have her in your care, you might consider getting a pillow for feeding time.”
I ignored all of that because I had no idea of anything beyond this minute. If we could get the crying stopped, my chances of thinking straight would be better.
Quincy leaned over me, bottle in hand, and showed me the basics of bottle-feeding a baby. Juniper took the nipple in her mouth right away and went after the formula as if she hadn’t eaten for a week.
Frowning, I asked, “How often do babies eat?”
With her eyes locked on Juniper, Quincy sat next to me and adjusted the burp cloth on the baby’s chest. “It varies. She’ll let you know.”
“Oof,” I said, not liking that answer at all.
“How long will she be here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Quincy asked.
“I wish I knew,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the baby as she drank avidly, her eyes wide and focused on me.
When I glanced back at Quincy, her expression was one of confusion, and I realized she probably had even more questions than I did.
“The baby’s mother is my ex-girlfriend,” I said. “She left a note that says this is my child, and she’s done playing mama.”
Quincy gasped, and her mouth gaped as she stared at me with stunned eyes. Several seconds ticked by before she said, “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah. I’m still processing.”
Her gaze veered back to the baby, then to me again, as if she was looking for some resemblance. “Do you think it could be true?”
I exhaled and noted the shakiness of it. “Mathematically, it could be.”
