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“He read the letter?”
“Yes, but?—”
The man backed away then, jogged down the path, and I heard a car starting before it roared down the road.
I was stuck on the porch, knees bent, wondering what the hell had just happened with someone who knew Zach, baby Charlie, and probably, Jax.
The fuck?
ChapterFive
Jax
Arlo came in from outside,the two diaper bags in one hand, and he was flushed. I guessed he was in shock the same as I was—he always had my back over my hunt for Zach, never called me on my obsession, but it was another thing all together to be faced with the proof of my sibling being alive and well.
Oh, and that he’d left me with a baby.
But he shouldn’t be here. He should be at his place, getting ready for his date. I should make him go.
“There was a guy…” Arlo began, but Charlie wailed over his talking—like full-on bellowed his distress. We needed to address the immediate situation, and I didn’t want to hear about Arlo and stories about any moreguys.
“He needs something,” I interrupted.
Arlo seemed uncertain and confused at the change in conversation, then he nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.” He dropped the bags to the counter, pulled out diapers and formula, and a travel-sized ice box, plus little onesies in a myriad of colors, and also a forest-green blanket and a stuffed dog, which he passed to me. The cloth tag on the plushie had the nameWooferembroidered on it, and I knew that was probably what the brand was, but I wondered if that was the name my brother had used for it.
“Look, here’s Woofer,” I said, but that didn’t seem to have any effect on little Charlie, who grabbed at an ear, but then released it just as fast. I’d done this before when the twins were babies, I can do this.Pull yourself the fuck together, man.“I’ll change him, can you make a bottle?”
Arlo glanced up from the pile of things he was creating on the kitchen counter, and it hit me—when he’d taken over parental duties to his two siblings, they’d been teenagers. He’d need talking through the bottle thing as I laid out the forest-colored blanket on the counter, undoing the pajama and easing Charlie’s legs out. Someone needed to know what they were doing here, and from the way Arlo was peering at the back of the can of pre-mixed formula, all wide-eyed and concerned, that someone was me.
“Take one of the bottles and that can of pre-mixed formula. We’re going to have to assume the bottles are sterilized.”
“What about this one in the baggie with the word sterilized on it?” Arlo waved a bottle in a bag right under my nose. I glanced at the writing—strong, sure, like mine—Zach’s handwriting?
“Okay, yeah, remove the nipple, put it on the…” I looked around, and in the end, I shoved the pile of baby pajamas toward him, “put it on there, that way up, fill the bottle, then replace it.” I took him step-by-step through warming the milk as he rummaged through the bag for anything else in there, and at last he had a bottle warmed. Charlie had a new diaper and was in a clean baby pajama covered in giraffes. It was short-sleeved, but given the coolness of the AC, I added another layer—the tiniest jacket emblazoned with pink hippos. Everything clashed, but at least Charlie wasn’t crying, and was instead, tugging on his feet and burbling.
“You think he needs a blanket?” Arlo passed me the bottle, then a blanket.
I took both, plus grabbed a burp cloth, juggling all the things as muscle memory kicked in and I settled into a chair in the garden room. It was second nature, recalling precious moments when my girls were curled in my arms. I missed those days, missed the girls like a limb. I bet they’d be so excited to know they had a cousin, and probably a lot cooler about it than someone like me, who was quietly losing his shit.
Arlo approached, his movements were slow and deliberate, conveying a sense of calm that seemed to permeate the air around him. Even though he’d never made a bottle before, he’d managed this one, but was now hovering, as if he didn’t know what to do.
“Hey there, little one,” Arlo murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked Charlie’s hair. “You’re safe now. We’re here to take care of you.”
We?What would it be like for the two of us to be together dealing with everything that life threw at us?
Wesounded good.
Charlie’s cries softened, replaced by tiny sucking sounds as he drew on the milk, and my anxiety eased when batted at the bottle.
“He was hungry,” I whispered.
“Hangry,” Arlo corrected with a sappy smile.
“That too.”
Arlo tapped my arm. “So, there was this guy outside, just now.”
Hope flared inside me. “Zach?”
