#Jerk (24 page)

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Authors: Kat T. Masen

BOOK: #Jerk
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M
otherhood.

There is no amount of textbooks and advice that can prepare you for it. And those damn diaper commercials…yeah, what a load of crap. Guess what? A baby cries. Nonstop and for no apparent reason. I have a mental checklist. Hungry, wet, gassy…but when I’ve ticked it all off, what then?

We were forced to stay in the hospital for a couple more days, just as a precaution. This was not the news I wanted to hear, and it made me sob like a baby. The nurse said it was normal to feel emotional after giving birth due to my hormones being all over the place.
Argh!
I was so sick of these damn hormones and crying at the drop of a hat.

My parents returned for another week before Dad had to go back to work. It was great having them around, but sometimes my mom would drive me insane. Every time someone walked through the door, she would make them sanitize their hands. Yeah, I’m all for a germ-free environment (trust me), but she was over the top. She also drove the young nurses insane, talking about the way hospitals were back in her day. I think they were glad to see me go just so they wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again.

Haden continued with his visits, but still no Eloise. Apparently she had been struck with the flu and didn’t want the baby to catch it. Fair enough. I wasn’t going to pry further, but we both knew that was a load of shit.

The day that the doctors gave the all clear, I was beyond ecstatic to finally leave the hospital. Haden hired some car with an extra special car seat fitted by some expert (talk about paranoia), but I let him do whatever would keep him happy, considering the stress he was under. It was evident, and he had dropped a lot of weight, not to mention that ridiculous beard making a comeback. Every time I asked him if he was okay, he would grunt and walk away.

Settling at home with Masen is harder than I thought it’d be. During the day he sleeps like an angel, but at night…boy does he have a set of lungs on him! It wasn’t until the end of the first week that I established a routine and got him to settle down for a couple of hours at night. Kate is a godsend, and even though I feel like I’m imposing on her personal space, she’s always quick to shut me down.

“For the millionth time…I love having you here! Do you know what I would be doing right now if you weren’t here? Buying some sort of wonder mop from an infomercial I got stuck watching while shoving spoons of ice cream in my mouth.”

“But I feel bad. You can’t exactly bring somebody home to a crying baby.”

“Trust me doll, the last time I brought somebody home was when Justin Timberlake was still dating Britney. Besides, the men I get involved with like to keep personal space exactly that—personal. I swear I pick the wrong men.”

“You and Vicky both.”

“Uh, no…Vicky has dated some gorgeous creatures. She just won’t settle down with one instead of pining for that married loser Patrick.”

The door opens and Vicky appears with a shopping bag and Haden behind her.

So, here’s the thing. Since I’ve been back home (all seven days), Haden has come over every day. When I told him he didn’t have to, mainly because I knew how exhausted he was, he got offended and ranted on about parental rights
. Jerk.
And so he’s now formed his own groove on the couch, and I may have even seen an extra toothbrush hanging around in the bathroom. It’s like a goddamn zoo in here sometimes, but secretly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Standing behind Vicky, he is armed with what look like pizza boxes…
oh the smell.
I know I should start to get rid of this baby weight, but who can resist the smell of melted cheese?

“I got pizza, and yes…it’s that fatty cheese you girls want.”

“What a gentleman!” Kate roars.

“Eloise would kill me for getting anything but low-fat sheep cheese.”

“You mean goat cheese.” I laugh.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The four of us dig in while Kate turns on the TV. We get stuck watching some game show and we argue over the answers. If not for them bringing me down with their silly answers, I would have won a million dollars and a brand new car by now.

On cue, upon finishing my slice, Masen begins to squirm in the rocker beside me. I go to pick him up, placing him over my shoulder and patting his back gently. Last night he was extremely unsettled and didn’t want to feed, so of course I barely slept.

“No offense Pres, but you look like hell,” Vicky says, taking Masen off me only to have Haden immediately take him out of her arms.

“Baby won’t sleep and Mommy would love a shower.”

“Go shower,” Haden commands.

I’m not going to say no to that; I’m desperate to feel like myself again. I stand up, sore in all the wrong places, and begin to make my way to the bathroom.

“Oh wait! So you know how you were talking to me about how your nipples were bleeding from feeding?” Vicky rummages through her purse, unaware that she just embarrassed me in front of everyone.

“Um…yes, but you didn’t really need to broadcast it.”

Haden snickers, his head down and a grin on his face.

“Ta-da! The Mexican nipple hat!”

She produces this small box, and lo and behold, it does look like a Mexican hat…
for my nipples.

“Where on earth…?”

“I Googled your problem, spoke to some moms at my Pilates class, and found them at the drugstore.”

“I’m not sure whether to laugh at you or hug you.”

“I think you’ll be hugging me when your nipples aren’t tugged like a milked cow.”

I head to the shower, shaking my head at her. Inside the bathroom, I carefully take off my clothes. My boobs are sore, veins popping. I decide to feed him and release the pressure after a quick shower. With my incision on the mend, I wash myself as instructed. I wrap a towel around myself after briefly drying my hair, leaving it damp. When I head back to the room, Haden is sitting on my bed with Masen.

“You feel better?”

He doesn’t look my way when he asks and I feel practically naked standing here in a towel. He has no concept of personal space and hangs out in my room every time he comes here.

“Yes, a million times better. Probably better if I get some clothes on in private…”

“Get dressed, then. I won’t look.”

I can’t be bothered to argue, and I head to the closet to get changed in there. I emerge moments later and stop at the vanity to quickly tie my hair up into a bun. I settle for wearing a loose, white button-down shirt and khaki shorts, hoping to take Masen out for a walk later. Not getting out of the house during the day has made me extremely restless. For someone who is accustomed to being at work all day, this whole stay-at-home mom gig is a huge shock to the system. If you ask me who guest starred on
Ellen
this week, I can sadly give you every name.

“I think he is hungry.”

“He is always hungry, hence why these things keep getting bigger and bigger.”

“I noticed.”

I shoot him a sarcastic smile, then settle into my chair. Haden is watching me, like he always does, and I manage to get the baby to latch on without  breast exposure. I yelp at the slight sting, then remember the Mexican hat. I use it, and instantly I feel less pain.
Seems like I owe Vicky big time.

“That bad?”

“That bad…I mean, I’ve had them tugged before, but shit…this is painful.”

His mood instantly shifts and he begins to fidget with the fray of his jeans. Too much nipple and boob talk. Forgive him; he is a guy after all.

“I really need to get out of here,” I sigh, switching subjects.

He lifts his head, making eye contact. “How about we go for a walk? It’s a warm night out.”

“Sounds perfect.”

 

The walk is just what I need. The night air is warm with a slight breeze that picks up as we turn the corner. The streets are still bustling with people heading out to dinners and clubs. It’s a Friday night, and it feels so different to be pushing a baby around the streets.

An old lady is sitting alone at the bus stop. Clutching onto her purse, she peers down the street, looking out for the bus. She stops, noticing us, and smiles. I smile in return and when it’s time to walk past her, she greets us.

“What a beautiful baby!” She peeks into the stroller, admiring Masen. “I’ve got eight children and thirty-four grandkids.”

“Wow, you must have been really busy,” Haden says.

I jab him with my elbow, reading his dirty mind. He grins in return as I shake my head at him, smiling. She pulls back and something about her changes, almost as if we had touched on a sore subject. Haden and I look at each other, confused by what just happened, then turn back to face her.

“None of them are in the city. In fact, my George lives in Japan. Imagine that? Living all the way in Japan. My youngest, Maggie, visits every Christmas.”

“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you,” I tell her.

“It is. But then I see a couple like the two of you and it reminds me of when my husband Frank and I used to walk down this exact street with baby George. It was before he went to the war. I remember it like it was yesterday,” she says wistfully, clutching onto a gold necklace draped around her neck.

“We’re not actually a couple,” I correct her. Haden glares at me for clarifying that point.

“Well, you certainly look happy, the both of you. Enjoy these moments, because before you know it, you’re catching the bus to go home alone.”

The bus pulls up to the curb and the old lady waves goodbye. She had a point…one that kinda sticks with me. Thirty-two years of my life have passed, and now Masen is here and all I want to do is freeze time so I can cherish this moment. Life is short, and as I look over at Haden tucking Masen into his blanket, I wonder what life is all about. Love, laughter, happiness? And how does Haden fit into that equation? I have to admit, since the hormones died down, we get along much better. We are friends. We are partners for the sake of raising our son. Do I look at him in a romantic way? Not really.

But then my focus moved on to Masen. My goal each day is just to try to stay awake and feed my son. Talking with this woman about her life has caused loneliness to wash over me. I want everything she just said. Babies, a husband, and a lifetime full of happy memories. Watching the man who helped create our son pushing his stroller, it triggers the emotions I keep pushing away.

“You okay?” He stops just a few steps away from a busy restaurant blaring loud Spanish music.

“Who would have thought that you of all people would be spending your Friday night pushing a stroller?” I say, ignoring my emotions and motioning for him to continue walking.

With a sly smirk, he continues to push our son, stopping only to wait for the lights to change. “Who would have thought that Miss OCD would have forgotten the baby bag at home? Because someone’s definitely dumped his load.”

I scowl as the whiff of his soiled nappy hits  my nose. Haden turns the stroller back around as we begin our journey home again. How silly of me to think Masen could go ten minutes without pooping his pants!

“Sometimes I don’t know what’s happened to me, you know? It’s like my focus has shifted and I can’t think ahead. Take, for example, the apartment hunting. I have no idea what I’m after or where I’m even looking. Old Presley would have found a place by now, moved in and already repainted the walls.”

“You’ve gone through a lot. It’s expected.”

“Maybe. The only place I’m even semi-excited about is this cute bungalow a street away from Gemma’s.”

He stops, prompting a couple behind us to swerve in annoyance. I swear I hear them curse under their breaths, but Haden is oblivious.

“As in, California?”

“Uh, yeah.” I take the stroller from him and continue pushing, hoping this argument can be avoided.
What was I thinking
? It’s merely an idea I’ve been toying with because Gemma and Melissa would be able to help me out. Nothing is concrete.

“Were you going to tell me about it?”

“No, because I was only looking. If I felt it was more serious, then yes, I would.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about it! What about Masen? I live here…how could I see him every night?”

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