The Life - Rebirth (The Life 4)
I grabbed a diaper from the stack she’d unpacked and some wipes and powder that was next to them since I figured they go together. I ignored her snickering as I headed for the bathroom and the vanity table with ample space, grabbed a towel to lay him down, and got to work. So far, so good. What’s the problem?
What I didn’t bank on was my son staring into his dad’s eyes with the cutest little smile on his face, sending an arc of baby pee into the air and landing on my head. “You must be baby Gabriel, yes. I get it; it’s payback for daddy not being there all this time.” I don’t know why he found that funny, but he giggled.
His giggle was so contagious, so sweet that I wanted to hear it again, so I kept talking to him. I didn’t use baby talk because he didn’t seem to need it, but he watched me steadily as if taking my measure. I looked at the mechanics of the diaper and went to work before he offloaded on me again and stood him up on the counter to make sure it didn’t slide down his legs.
“Did daddy do a good job?” I wonder if he can comprehend the fact that we look so much alike? And in thinking that, my mind went to Sal. He’d lose his damn mind if he saw them. Why was I thinking of that? A sudden thought hit me, and I left the bathroom to head back to my desk.
Baby Gabriel didn’t appear to be ready to go back to bed any time soon, so I took him with me. “Do you have any pictures of the kids?” I kept my voice low since Gabriella was still asleep, but Gianna heard me all the same.
“Lots. They're on my phone.”
I found her phone on the nightstand next to the bed and was surprised that she’d kept the same code. I looked at her when it opened under my birth date, but neither of us said anything. It was hard to miss the reddening of her cheeks even in the semi-dark room. “How often do you do that?”
“Often enough, but sometimes I express milk so they can take a bottle.”
“Who?” I started to ask her who helped her on nights like this when they woke up one after the other but stopped myself. I went back to the desk and scrolled through her photos, and there were tons in there.
I got to see them in different stages of their lives. From the tiny little beings when she first gave birth to maybe a few days ago. There were even pictures of her while she was pregnant and some of a middle-aged couple that I’d never seen before. “Are these your friends?” She didn’t even look up when she answered, which told me a lot.
"That’s Connie and Ron; they’re the babies’ godparents; they helped me a lot.” Connie and Ron.
“Are they still in Alaska?”
“Yeah, they plan to come to see us once we get settled.” I didn’t ask any more questions. I just studied the couple before looking for what I wanted.
Since it was the next day in Sicily already, I sent the pic to Sal with a message explaining that I’d run out in haste because I needed to come back to my kids. He had no idea about this side of my life. I’d never discussed her with him and had no idea I was a father myself, so I couldn’t have shared.
I’m expecting a million questions from him, but I turned my phone off to avoid it for now. I just figured he’d suffered enough thinking his prick of a son had done something to me, which may be not the nicest thing I’ve done, letting him believe I was hurt or worse.
As soon as baby Gianni was done, we traded off, and I had diaper duty again. This one was more serious than his brother and didn’t disrespect his father by peeing in his face. He did smile when I smiled, though, but I get the feeling I’m gonna have to do more to get into his good graces.
Do all kids get their second wind in the middle of the night? Mine sure the heck does. Gabriella, the little princess as I’d taken to calling her in my head, graciously waited until both her brothers had been fed and changed to make her presence known.
She wakes up like she’d just been pretending to sleep. Eyes wide open, bright, and alert. She doesn’t fuss per se; it’s more like I am here, feed me. I was amazed that her body could feed three people in such a quick span of time, and I felt a little guilty for what I’d done to her earlier, knowing damn good and well that I’d be doing it again.