“Thanks for keeping her busy,” Vanessa says, returning to the living room. “I’ll feed her dinner and then it’s bath time.”
While Vanessa feeds Ivy, I make the salad and mash the potatoes I’d boiled earlier to go with the grilled drumsticks.
“If you like, you can come up and keep us company,” Vanessa says.
I agree and follow them upstairs. Taking care of a baby is involving work but it’s not rocket science. It’s basically doing all the things for her that you would do for yourself.
“Did it take you long to get used to being a parent?” I ask Vanessa.
“It did. I was a free agent before and could go wherever I wanted to at whatever time. Suddenly this little human was dictating my time and activities. But she’s totally worth it.”
Ivy accidentally blows a bubble, and she looks at me, startled at first and when the bubble flies away, she laughs. Her toothless grin goes straight to my heart. I try to visualize Emma and fail.
“How are they at three months old?”
Vanessa laughs. “Definitely less active than this. They’re just discovering the world and their little eyes are always wide open taking anything in. I think it’s magical age and the time when they start to pay attention to everyone and everything.”
A pang comes over me as the realization hits me of how much of my daughter’s milestones I’m missing. But I can’t raise a baby on my own. Except all these excuses I tell myself and my family are bull. One of the guys, Brad, raised his baby son for a couple of years when his wife left him. I remember him missing out on a lot of evenings out when we went for a beer after a shift, but I guess he would have said the same thing that Vanessa just said. It’s worth it.
I leave Vanessa to tuck Ivy into bed and head downstairs to warm our dinner. I’m thinking about Emma more than I usually do. Is she wide-eyed about her surroundings as Vanessa described?
My mom has been pushing me to take her for a visit when I go but I hardly ever go myself. Maybe it’s time to rectify that. I could visit her tomorrow. I get my phone and step outside to call Valerie. My heart pounds as the phone rings on the other end. There’s no going back now when I start visiting her.
Valerie answers the phone when I’m about to give up. “Sorry about that,” she says when she answers the phone. “I was giving Emma her bath, but her grandpa has taken over.”
I smile at the image of an older man bathing a three-month baby. “He’s better than me. I wouldn’t know how to wash a baby.”
“Oh, you would learn. Morris was a very hands-on dad with all our children,” Valerie says, a note of pride in her voice.
I would want to be that kind of dad. A hands-on dad. Our conversation comes to a halt, and I need to say why I called. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come over and see Emma.” My tone is as unsure as I feel.
“That’s wonderful, Logan, I always knew you would come around,” Valerie says.
“It’s just a visit,” I say quickly in case she’s thinking that I’m coming to get Emma.
“I know and it’s a great first step. You’ll love her so much when you get to know her. I think she looks like you. A female version of her dad,” Valerie says happily.
I inhale deeply. I’ve committed myself now and there’s no going back.
“I’ll text you our address,” Valerie says.
“I have it.” She sent me her address the first time they took Emma home and invited me to pop over any time to see her. This will be the first time I’m taking her up on that invitation.
When I end the call, my hands are trembling. I can’t believe that I’ll see my daughter. The first time I saw her is a blur. I was too shocked and confused to take in her features. Despite the fear I feel, there’s also excitement. Emma is my daughter. My flesh and blood.
I return to the house and find that Vanessa has already set the table.
“Is everything okay?” she says.
“Everything’s fine,” I tell her.
She serves our dinner and I help carry it to the table.
“Looks yummy,” Vanessa says as we sit down to eat.
I’ve lost my appetite. Thoughts of the following day petrify me even though Emma is a teeny-weeny baby who probably won’t even notice who is holding her.
***
My courage fails me the following morning and after Vanessa and Ivy leave, I call my sister and ask her to go with me. We agree to leave after lunch.
I text Janice when I get to her building. I scrape a hand through my hair, feeling nervous as hell. I should have done this earlier, not waited until Emma was three months old. Will she know that I’ve stayed away all this time? Guilt wraps around my gut but I laugh it off. Emma is a three-month-old baby. She doesn’t know who has been with her and who hasn’t. All she cares about is baby milk and having her diaper changed. That’s all.