I’d given it to her thirty minutes ago, and so far, nothing had changed. No, I was lying—my ability to hear in my right ear had changed. Just this morning, it’d been perfect, now I had a constant ringing in it that I hoped would go away once she was okay.
Patting her back, I started making those stupid ‘shhh’ noises people did with babies and little kids when they were upset. When that didn’t work, I looked desperately around the kitchen for a solution, stopping when I saw her clean sippy cup next to the sink.
About two years ago, I’d had problems with a wisdom tooth coming in on the bottom. There’d been a three day wait for the surgery to remove it, and in the interim, the dentist had advised me to drink lukewarm drinks and to try and get some of the fluid over the sore tooth. To this day, I don’t know how it worked, only that it did work.
Having a problematic wisdom tooth was like cutting a baby one, right?
Fuck, it was worth a shot.
Filling it halfway with milk, I put it in the microwave and waited anxiously for it to heat before taking it out and putting the lid on. Taking a quick look around to make sure no one would witness me doing it, I sucked on the sippy bit and made sure I hadn’t made it too hot. If anyone saw me doing it, I’d never live it down, so it paid to be cautious.
Bronte didn’t want to let go of my neck, but she finally relented and laid back in my arms when I gave her the cup.
As she started slowly drinking it, her mini sniffles still going and big, fat tears still rolling out of her eyes, I felt my heart hurt for her. I couldn’t remember teething pains, but she sure as hell was going through them, and I felt helpless.
Rocking her gently as she drank, I murmured, “There’s a good girl.”
I don’t know if it was the Tylenol or the milk or what, but her eyes began to sag as she got to the bottom of the cup, and a few minutes later, she was out cold. This left me with a dilemma. I didn’t want to put her to bed and for her to wake up feeling shit and on her own, but I couldn’t stand here holding her all night, either.
Figuring I’d sleep on the couch and make her a bed on the floor with the cushions, I’d just put her empty cup in the sink when I heard a baby crying loudly.
Now, I only knew of only one baby whose proximity was close enough for me to hear, and she wasn’t crying.
Opening the back door, I leaned against the frame and waited to see if it happened again. When it did, I took a couple of steps out to see if I could ascertain what direction it was coming from. In situations like this, given where we were and how little was around us, it wasn’t unusual for me to get a shit ton of ‘what ifs.’
What if someone had dumped their baby in a field?
What if someone had a car crash and they were unconscious, but their baby wasn’t?
What if a tiny little kid like Bronte had wandered off from their parents?
What if someone had tried to kidnap them, but they were teething too, so their crying drove the kidnapper insane, and they’d dumped them at the side of the road?
The more I heard the noise, the more anxious I got until I realized it was coming from the house closest to mine—Remy’s.
Shifting Bronte so that her head was back on my shoulder, I knocked on my best friend’s door and waited for him to answer.
Maybe it was one of those white noise things that helped people sleep? I didn’t find the sound of the waves soothing enough to go to sleep to, they made me need to take a piss. And don’t even get me started on the sound of whales. Maybe Remy liked hearing babies cry. Then again, that was almost psychotic, so I was hoping it wasn’t the case.
The door swung open, and a pissed-off, exhausted, and stressed version of him stared back at me. That wasn’t what got my attention, though.
No, that was the tiny baby bawling its heart out in his arms.
I hadn’t seen Remy since I’d gotten back, but I’d heard his truck arrive after I’d gone to bed with Addy earlier. What had I missed?
The ‘what ifs’ that’d hit me previously were still in my mind, and that’s what I’ll blame for what I said to him.
“Jesus Christ, please tell me you didn’t steal that baby.”
Thirty minutes later, and desperately in need of a beer…
“So, let me get this right, that chick you were seeing, what, well over a year ago when you had to work in Kissimmee, got pregnant.”