At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up later to Molly scrambling off the couch and Rebel yelling in her room.
“I thought she didn’t—” the rest of my words were muffled under Molly’s hand as her eyes filled up with tears.
“Just let me listen,” she whispered, going completely still with her hand covering my mouth.
“Mama!” Rebel yelled loudly. “Mama!”
It wasn’t the babble that we usually heard, and she wasn’t just talking to herself. Rebel was actually calling for Molly by name.
Molly’s lips trembled and she gave a little laugh, lifting her hand off my face.
“I waited a long time for that,” she said softly. Then she practically skipped down the hallway to Rebel’s room.
I sat up and scrubbed my hands down my face. She had waited a long time. Rebel was almost two, she was walking and getting into shit on a daily basis, but she hadn’t said her first word until five minutes earlier. It was a big deal.
My chest felt tight as I rolled up Molly’s comforter and set it on top of her pillow. I’d heard the baby girl’s first word. And she hadn’t been messing around, either—you could tell by her tone that she was pissed. She’d probably been in there awake for a while, but we hadn’t heard her pounding on the side of the crib because the baby monitor was in Molly’s room across the house. I grinned.
I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell everyone.
“Look who’s awake,” Molly said brightly as she carried Rebel into the room wrapped in the towel I’d tucked her in with. “And she’s got a new blankie.”
“She didn’t seem warm enough,” I mumbled, coughing a little. “I wasn’t sure where the extra blankets were.”
“So you used a towel?” Molly teased, reaching down to get Reb’s glasses off the table.
“Worked, didn’t it?” I smiled smugly when Reb reached for me, almost falling from Molly’s arms before I caught her.
“Who’s that, Rebel?” I asked, pointing to Molly as Reb leaned her head against my chest.
“Mama.” She said it like she’d always been saying it, like it wasn’t a new thing she’d picked up. Like Molly wasn’t watching her in wonder.
“What’s my name?” I asked.
Nothing.
Molly laughed. “Nice try.”
“Can’t fault a man for trying,” I joked.
I rubbed Rebel’s back as she sat quietly in my lap. She felt good there, her little body completely relaxed against mine. Her hair was curly and matted in the back where she’d rubbed it against her sheets, and she was still wearing Molly’s socks pulled up past her knees. She barely weighed anything.
Molly grabbed her pillow and comforter and carried them into her bedroom. Between the nap and Rebel’s first word, she was practically dancing.
“Are you hungry?” she asked as she came back in the room.
“How about I take you out?”
“Out?”
“A restaurant? You know, where they cook your food and clean up after you,” I replied as Rebel sat up and started climbing off my lap.
“I have to get dressed,” Molly hedged.
“You should probably at least put a bra on.”
“I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Sugar, I always notice your tits.”
“You’re going to have to be more careful,” Molly admonished, her eyes widening. “She’s saying words now.”
The look on her face was pure happiness. I don’t think she would have cared if tits was the next word Reb picked up, as long as she was talking.
“I’ll watch my mouth.”
“No, you won’t,” Molly replied dryly.
“No,” I agreed. “I won’t.”
Reb chose that moment to smack the coffee table hard with a plastic boat she’d found on the floor.
“I’ll get her dressed,” I said nonchalantly, getting to my feet.
I was testing the waters. Molly didn’t seem to have any issue with me being around Rebel—holding her and helping her eat sometimes. But we were new—we weren’t yet in a place where I helped out. I wanted to be.
Fuck, after the last few minutes, I wanted all of it.
“Are you sure?” Molly asked nervously, glancing down at Rebel.
“Sure.” I leaned down and kissed her softly. “Go get dressed.”
“It’s cold outside, so make sure she’s in pants and a sweater,” she said quickly. “And her socks are in the top drawer. The long socks—all the short ones are cute, but they fall down her heel and it drives her crazy.”
“No problem,” I replied with a nod.
“And the far right side of her closet has all of the clothes that are too big still, so don’t use those.”
“Okay.”
“And she needs a t-shirt under the sweater—one of the ones that snap shut at the bottom. That way her little belly doesn’t get cold. And—”
“Moll,” I cut in, physically turning her toward her bedroom. “I got it. I fuck up and you can change her, yeah?”
“Okay.” She nodded then raced for her room, probably so she could try and finish getting ready before I was done getting Rebel ready.