When I was little, I could clearly remember the first time my dad brought me home and cooked dinner for me. It was such a foreign feeling since my birth mom was an addict and lived a very unstable life. There were nights we slept in a car, days upon days we didn’t eat anything, and I clearly recalled always being either too cold or too hot. It was a miserable way to spend my formative years. When my dad found me, things instantly changed. Even though he’d never been a parent before and had a questionable past of his own to contend with, he went out of his way to give me a sense of security and normalcy from the start. He wanted me to know what having a real home felt like. I got the same feeling walking in my front door today as I did all the way back then.
I knew I surprised Remy when I hugged her from behind, but she quickly leaned into my embrace, telling me dinner still had a few minutes until it would be done. She encouraged me to spend time with the baby while we waited, but I desperately needed a shower so I could switch gears from work-mode back to dad-mode. She looked a little startled when I asked her to keep an eye on Hollyn for a little bit longer, but eventually gave a jerky nod of agreement. She was clearly fascinated by the baby but still hesitant to be responsible for her. I understood completely. I felt the same way when I first brought Hollyn home from the NICU.
The blast of hot water washed away some of the fatigue and finally settled most of my raw nerves. My stomach growled by the time I pulled on a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. When I went back into the main part of the house, I headed directly toward where I assumed Hollyn would still be in her little bouncy chair. I was surprised to find it empty, and even more surprised to see Remy perched on the couch holding my baby carefully in her arms. Hollyn was babbling away, carrying on her end of their conversation as Remy told her about the time we both got stuck in a tree in her parents’ backyard when we were little.
“I thought I could climb to the top and touch the sky. I’m sure there was a cloud that looked like a puppy, and I wanted to pet it. Your dad scolded me and told me I was going to get hurt, but I was determined to get as high as possible.” Remy lifted her head and looked at me with a smile in her unusual eyes. “Since I didn’t listen, your dad followed me up that dumb tree, going higher and higher, yelling at me the whole way. He’s scared of heights. Did you know that?” The baby gurgled and waved her tiny hands around as if she was thoroughly entertained. I watched the scene with my heart in my throat. My mind raced to connect all the dots that put my kid in Remy’s arms and her in my bed forever. “We were so high up it finally occurred to me to be scared, but by then, we couldn’t get back down. I started to cry, but your dad promised everything would be all right, and since he never lied to me, I believed him. It took both my dad and your grandpa to get us down. We got in big trouble, but the next time I went up that tree, your dad still followed me to keep me safe. I just want you to know what kind of dad you have. No matter how many times you make the wrong decision or screw up, he’s going to be right behind you, keeping you safe no matter how afraid he might be.”
The baby squealed as I cleared my throat and moved toward the two of them. I sat next to Remy on the couch as she maneuvered the baby into my arms.
“She started crying. Her diaper was clean, and she didn’t seem to want her bottle, so I figured she might be bored or want you. I picked her up to keep her company until you were done with your shower. Dinner is done, if you’re ready to eat.”
Remy’s words came out in a rush, and I wondered if she was nervous. I put a hand on her thigh to keep her in place. “You can pick her up, Remy. You can hold her. You can feed her. You can care about her. I want you to do all of those things. You don’t need to be scared of her or think that I’m going to be upset with you for overstepping your bounds. Like I said earlier, I’m glad you’re here.”
She reached up to fiddle with her hair and looked down at the baby resting in the crook of my arm. “She’s just so small, and it feels like there’s a lot I might do wrong. Aren’t there a ton of rules to follow when you hold a baby? I mean, all I know is you’re supposed to keep their heads from flopping around, but it seems like there should be other things I should know.”
I slid my hand up her leg when her knee started bouncing around and reached for her hand. When she was anxious, she had difficulty sitting still, but I was used to the constant movement. I actually kind of liked it. Being next to her sent a charge through my entire body and revived me when I was sure I had nothing left to give.
“Babies don’t come with user manuals. I wish they did. It wouldn’t have been as scary when I finally got to bring her home if she had come with instructions. I don’t have all the answers either.” Which was why I called her in the middle of the night, searching for solace.
Remy squeezed my hand and stood up. “Okay, enough with the heavy life evaluation. Let’s get you fed, and you can tell me all about your first day at work. It had to be weird to go to a job you picked instead of reporting for a duty assigned to you. It’s still hard for me to picture you as a soldier. You were always so quiet, and you hated it when anyone raised their voice at you.”
We sat at the table my mom picked out when she decorated my house. It wasn’t as cool as the decorative one in Remy’s loft, but it wasn’t a standard wooden dining room table either. It was round, with an ornate base, and painted black. I kept hold of Hollyn while Remy made up a couple of plates. I’d gotten pretty good at shoveling food into my face with one hand because it wasn’t always possible to put the baby down when I wanted to eat. Remy watched the juggling act with wide eyes but didn’t say anything as she dug into her own dinner.
“Your dad was actually a huge part of the reason I was interested in enlisting. My dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps; my mom wanted me to go to college and get a job that paid well. I didn’t want to do either, but didn’t want to disappoint them. The only other person I really looked up to and admired was Rome. He’s quiet like me. He’s serious like I am. He always tried to protect you the same way I did. Whenever I asked about his time in the military, he was honest about both the good and the bad. His reasons for enlisting were more altruistic than mine, but he also signed on because he knew it was a surefire way to find himself and figure out what he was made of. It doesn’t matter how much you love your family or how much you feel like you owe them; eventually, you have to jump out of the nest and figure out if you can fly.”
I bounced the baby up and down and lifted my eyebrows after my first bite. It was better than good. Remy really could cook.
“What I’m doing now is pretty much the same job I did while I was a soldier, only now fewer people are shooting at me, and I don’t have to worry about whatever I build being destroyed by insurgents or hostile entities. I don’t have to wear combat gear and worry about my office building being blown up.”
Remy sucked in a breath and dropped her fork. She blinked at me and whispered, “That sounds horrible.”
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It wasn’t always bad, and I liked helping people who were most affected by whatever had us in their country in the first place. And it’s not like my job is totally safe now. I’ll have to deal with severe weather causing things like avalanches, wildfires, floods. Tunnels and bridges collapse all the time from age and disrepair. Mud and rock slides take out and block entire sections of road. It’s dirty and messy work no matter if I do it in a uniform or not.”