That Baby (39 page)

“Sure.”

“I think you need to talk to someone who has been married for a while. Your dad. Mr. Mac. Someone on your team maybe? Someone you can ask if this is normal after having a baby.”

“Actually, someone spoke to me about it. Dirk Nathaniel. He and his wife have four kids. He asked how I was doing after mini camp— said I looked exhausted—and it caught me off guard. I sort of spilled my guts to him. Want to know what his advice was? Get a nanny.”

“That's actually not a bad idea, Danny. Maybe if Lori felt like she got a break, she wouldn't be such a bitch.”

“That's what he said.”

July 28th
 

Figured it wouldn’t hurt.

Phillip and I are watching TV, Angel is upside down asleep on the couch next to us, and Devaney is sleeping in her swing.
 

Around midnight, Danny texts that they are home. Phillip saw them pull into their garage a couple hours ago, so we’re hoping that means they had some adult time.

Phillip takes Angel to her kennel in our bedroom and then lets them in.

Danny and Lori come downstairs, holding hands and looking content, which makes me happy. I was pretty worried when he told me how Jennifer made him feel. He should feel that way about his wife.

“We had a great night,” Danny says. “Thank you so much for watching her.”
 

“You look relaxed,” I say.

“We are,” Lori agrees. “It's been a while since we’ve had time to just talk.”

“And we decided to hire a part-time nanny. That way Lori can get a break each day, even if it's just to go to the grocery store or work out,” Danny adds.

“That's awesome. I'm happy for you guys,” Phillip says.

“So how was my little monkey?” Danny peeks at his adorable sleeping baby. “Do you hate us for leaving you so long when all she does is cry?”

“She really didn’t cry that much,” Phillip says.
 

“She didn’t?” Danny’s eyes widen in surprise.

“No, she was good. We played patty cake, and she’s enthralled with the dog.”
 

Lori sits down and stares at Devaney. “I figured she’d be crying since she usually nurses around this time.”

“She actually went to sleep really easily,” Phillip tells her.

“She did?” Danny looks perplexed. “What did you do?”

“Um, well, when she started crying, we listened to some music. I figured maybe she was getting sick of baby Beethoven, so we listened to my running playlist. Some rap, dance, pop. We danced around. She’s going to be a party girl, I think. She doesn’t want to go to sleep and miss out on the fun.”

“I still can’t believe you got her to go to sleep without eating,” Lori says.
 

“Oh, well, the dancing only kept her happy for about an hour,” Phillip says.

“Yeah,” I agree. “So around eleven, I fed her.”

“How did you do that?” Lori asks. “I didn’t give you enough milk.”

“I know and I didn’t want to interrupt your date, so I gave her some of the sample formula the doctor gave me.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Lori yells. “Why would you do that? You know I’m nursing!”

“I know that, so I made Phillip look it up online,” I explain. “We read on a nursing site that it’s perfectly okay to supplement with formula at her age. It was just a few ounces and then she conked out.”

“How could you do that?!” Lori yells at me like I fed her baby tequila.

“Because she was hungry,” I say. “She loved it. Sucked it down, burped, fell right to sleep. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Are you serious?” Danny asks. “She didn’t cry. Not at all?”

“Not one bit,” I say. “This is probably a stupid question but could there be something you’re eating that’s upsetting her tummy?”

Loris eyes bug out. “How
dare
you even suggest such a thing! Breast milk is always best!”

Phillip interjects. “She’s suggesting it because after we fed her the breast milk she cried for an hour. Maybe she was just tired, but she didn’t cry after the formula.”

“Maybe Jay's onto something here,” Danny agrees.
 

“Oh sure,” Lori spews. “Take her side, like always.”

“This isn’t about taking sides, Lori. Let’s just talk to the doctor about it.” He sighs and I feel his pain. No matter what he says, she thinks it’s wrong.

“You should of called me!” Lori snatches the baby carrier, grabs the diaper bag in a huff, marches toward me, and gets in my face. “You're going to be a horrible mother!”

Phillip immediately steps in front of her. I've never seen him look so angry. His body looms over hers. “You need to take that back and apologize to Jadyn.”

“No,” Lori says, clutching the carrier and shaking her head.

“All we did for the last six hours was take care of your child, so you could go out. Your baby is asleep and safe. Tell Jadyn thank you or you will never step foot in this house again.”
 

She grits her teeth, turns to me, spits out a thank you, and then marches up the stairs, slamming the door on her way out.
 

“Go Phillip,” I say with a smile.
 

“Where the fuck does she get off?” Phillip says to Danny. He’s still pissed.

Danny shakes his head in embarrassment and gives me a hug. “I’m sorry for what she said, Jay. For what it's worth, I think you're going to be a great mom. And thanks to both of you for letting us have a night out.”

Phillip looks Danny in the eye. “You should have been the one to say something to her. Not me. Time to be a man, Danny.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you guys later.”

July 29th
 

Always playing.

My morning wake up consists of getting jumped on and given sloppy, wet kisses.
 

“Morning, Angel,” I laugh. “You're not supposed to be on the bed. Get down.”
 

“I told her to go find Mommy and she took off,” Phillip chuckles, following her into the room. He snaps his fingers. “Angel, down.”

The dog obediently jumps off the bed.
 

“How'd you do that?” I ask.

“Do what?”
 

“Make her get off the bed.”

“I just told her to get down.”

“Yeah, but you snapped. Then told her.”

“Oh, I don't know,” he says. “I was just getting her attention.”

“Hmm. She never listens to me.”

“That's because your voice is high, and she thinks you're playing.”

“So if I lower my voice, you think she'll mind me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Phillip says.

Angel runs out of the closet with a pair of my underwear in her mouth. She’s always stealing dirty clothes out of the hamper.

“Angel, no! Give,” I say in the deepest version of my voice.
 

The dog grins at me, pink lace hanging out of her mouth, and runs around the room, throwing my underwear up in celebration.
 

“Angel, no. Give,” Phillip says.
 

The dog stops, sits on her butt, and drops the underwear.
 

“I hate you,” I say to Phillip as he picks up my underwear and hands Angel a chew toy in return. “How was your run?”

“It was good,” he says walking into the bathroom and stripping off his sweaty clothes. “Danny joined me.”

“You got on his ass last night.”

“He deserved it. Not to compare Lori to a dog, but if he doesn't let her know who's boss, she's gonna keep acting like that.”

“We offended her, Phillip.”

“No, we didn’t. We took care of her child as a favor and did a damn good job of it. She should have thanked us. And if she didn’t want us to give her baby formula, she should have given us enough breast milk to last. The reason Danny went running with me is because he wanted to know everything we did last night. Apparently, Lori nursed Devaney when they got home and Devaney was crying again.”

“Interesting,” I say, getting out of bed to brush my teeth.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

I look down at the blue skull cotton boy-short undies of Phillip’s that I have on. They are all I have on. “I stole your underwear. They’re comfortable because the waist is big and they fit low on my hips just under my bump. You got them in the white elephant Christmas gift exchange, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Phillip leans his sweaty body into mine. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think they’re pretty damn sexy.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dear Baby Mac,

We are starting our eighth month! We’re on the homestretch here.
 

Although, from everything I have read, this is when women start to get uncomfortable. I remember Danny telling us how Lori had bought a body pillow about this time.
 

I didn’t get a pillow. I just drape myself over your dad.

So far, he doesn’t seem to mind.
 

You’re about 4 lbs. and while we get everything ready for your arrival—like buying those teeny little diapers, adorable onesies, and getting the nursery ready—you are getting ready to be born. You’re practicing breathing, kicking, sucking, and swallowing.
 

Chelsea and I have been talking and texting a lot. It’s nice to have someone to go through all this with. I was worried about her last week because she’d been having fainting spells. They were concerned about gestational diabetes, but it turns out her blood sugar was just getting a little low, so she has to make sure she’s having snacks in between meals. After a long search, she and Joey found a really cute house about five miles from where we live in one of the neighborhoods they really liked.
 

We purchased a super safe—as in your father researched them for days—carseat. So we’re ready for your trip home from the hospital.
 

I haven’t been jogging as much. I was having some shortness of breath and it freaked your dad out. But the doctor says it’s just because my uterus is pushing up against my diaphragm, which is completely normal. He says once you drop in preparation for birth, it will go away.

Speaking of that. You’ve been giving me a lot of swift kicks to the ribs. I don’t know what all you’re doing in there, but you must be having a good time.
 

I’m a little worried about something though.
 

I’m afraid when you’re older that you won’t mind me.

Why, you ask?

Because I’m failing as a dog parent.

Angel NEVER listens to me.

August 6th

All look the same.

”Phillip! You’re finally home!” I say as he steps into the house. I grab his hand and drag him into the nursery. “I need your help!”

“Well, my first piece of advice would be to paint the walls all one color,” he jokes, scanning the nine different squares of blue painted on the walls.

“Very funny. Tell me which one is your favorite.”

“Uh,” he says, his eyes moving from swatch to swatch. “Can I be honest?”

“Yes, I want your honest opinion.”

“They all look the same to me.”

“Phillip, they aren’t the same!” I point to the color closest to me. “Like this one, see how it’s more blue? Almost a baby blue?”

“Mhm.”

“And this one, see how it’s got a more yellow undertone and is a little more aqua colored.”

“Okay,” Phillip says. “Which one is your favorite?”

“No, I want you to tell me which one is your favorite.” Phillip starts fidgeting. “Do they really all look the same to you?”

“They all look blue,” he says. “But okay, this one looks too baby blue, which I don’t think we want since it’s supposed to be gender neutral, right?”

“Yes! Keep going.”

“This one looks really washed out. This one, here,” he says, pointing to my favorite, “is more grey. Isn’t that what you wanted?”