“You have a baby?” I ask dumbly.
“New development. Why are you here? How did you know where I live?”
“I asked around. How’s a baby a new development? Don’t they have to cook for nine months?”
The baby lets out an almost painful screech and Lance winces. He bounces up and down in an effort to calm, what I’m assuming is a girl, based on the Pepto Bismol pink onesie she’s sporting.
“Why don’t you come in? My neighbors already hate me without letting her cries echo through the hallway.” He holds the door open for me and I step inside.
It’s a fucking disaster in here. There are bottles sitting mostly empty on every flat surface. There’s a portable crib in the living room, along with a swing, bouncy seat, and changing table. The sink is full of dishes and the trash is overflowing with diapers. Dude is drowning.
“Where did you get the baby?” I ask.
“Well, Boaz. When a man and a woman—”
“You know what I mean. Do you have a wife I don’t know about?” I shout over the baby’s trill cries.
“Divorced.” He resumes his bouncing.
“Let me take her.” I reach for the little bundle.
His eyes shift back and forth from me to the baby, looking hesitant. I thrust my hands out again and the baby cries so hard not even a sound comes out. He finally caves, handing her over.
“Hello, miss sass. Got some air bubbles? Let me hook you up.” I cradle her in my arms and walk over to the couch covered in pink clothes. I shove them off and take a seat, laying her down on the cushion.
“I have a blanket around here somewhere.” He runs a hand through his hair, scanning the area.
“She’s not gonna die from lying on the couch for a second.” I take her skinny legs in my hands and pump them up and down. After the second pump, she releases a very unladylike toot. “There we go.”
The crying stops immediately and I lift her back up onto my shoulder.
“How did you do that? She’s been like that for hours.”
“She had some gas. That’s all.”
“Thank you,” he says with way too much emotion. Under his eyes are bruised and there’s spit up crusted on his shoulder. Dude must be exhausted.
“So, what’s up with the baby?” I ask.
“I was married before I moved here. My ex-wife, she got pregnant before I left, I guess. I got the call a week ago. She died giving birth and now here we are.”
I guess that answers the question about the doc being gay. Disappointment churns in my gut. Not that I stood a chance with a man like him, but I’m still bummed out.
“Did you know she was knocked up?” I ask.
“Um, no. It was a shock.”
“And they let you walk away with a whole ass baby you have no idea how to take care of?”
“Yes.” He swallows hard.
“What’s her name?”
“Lane.” A small smile creeps onto his full lips. He’s smitten.
I spot a blanket draped over the arm of the couch and spread it flat across my lap. I swaddle the sleeping infant up tight, the way I used to with Elijah. “And there we go. A Lane burrito. She’s kinda cute for a white baby.”
“Ha-ha.”
“This is why you haven’t been at work?”
“Yep.” He reaches over and drags a finger gently down her cheek affectionately. Something about this clueless man being so sweet makes my heart pound in my chest.
“You want me to stick around for a while so you can get this place picked up? No offense, but she’s going to contract a bacterial infection with all this filth.”
His eyes widen and his mouth drops open.
He’s completely forgotten he’s a capable doctor who knows how bacterial infections are contracted. Babies make even the smartest men dumb.
“Bro, I’m kidding. But for real, this place is a dump. I’ll snuggle the drama queen and you clean up.” I chuckle.
“Really? That would be helpful. Those diapers smell. I haven’t even had time for a shower in a week, let alone take out the trash.”
I lean in, getting close enough to sniff. “Oh my God. I take it back. Go shower, I’ll clean.”
“But what about…” he gestures to the bundle in my arms.
“She’s out cold. I’ll put her in the swing.” I get up and gently ease her into the contraption. I turn the knob and it starts swaying. “See? She’s fine. Go.”
“Thank you. Really, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know.” I shrug.
He gives me a tight-lipped smile and disappears behind a door that must be his bedroom. I look around, seeing disaster in every corner. No better place to start than the stinkiest. I dig through the cupboards until I find a box of garbage bags. For the next twenty-minutes I power clean. I’ve gotten good at it over the years, though I’ve never tried with this big of a pigsty.
After twenty more minutes, every surface has been wiped down with disinfectant wipes. Lance doesn’t come out of his room. I get a little nervous. We’re on the top floor, so I don’t think he could escape, but maybe there’s a fire ladder or something. Who knows? He looked crazed enough to try some shit.
I turn the handle on the door he went into and open it just a little. I peek an eye through the gap and see the end of a bed and bare feet dangling over the edge. I open the door more and see Lance passed out, face down. I stifle a laugh and shut the door. He deserves some rest and I’m free for the rest of the night.
Lane starts to fuss and I scoop her up, knowing she must be getting hungry. I’m assuming she’s about a week old, so her feedings must be closely spaced. I take her in the kitchen and make a bottle one handed. This rich fucker has a bottle warmer, which it easier than the water boiling method I had to use with Eli.
I sit down and bring the bottle to Lane’s lips. She opens for me right away and latches on. Her eyes open and she stares up at me with icy blue eyes.
“You’ve got your daddy’s eyes.”
She makes little noises that sound like moans of pleasure as she sucks down her dinner.
“I feel the same way when I eat,” I coo. “When you’re old enough and grow some teeth, I’ll take you for a steak. You’ll wonder how you were ever satisfied with this formula nonsense.”
After she finishes, I prop her up for a burp. She belches so loudly, I’m certain she’ll wake up her sleeping daddy, but the room stays silent.
For the next hour, we hang out. I show her the joy of Tiktok, and hand to God, she smiles at a cheesy video of a dog who wants to be appreciated. I flip over to my camera and snap a picture. That’s probably pretty creepy considering she isn’t my baby, but she’s adorable and I can’t help myself.
“She likes you,” Lance says from the doorway of his room, looking almost human again. He has on a different pair of athletic shorts and his torso is covered by a T-shirt now, but his hair is still a mess.
“I like her too.” I kiss the top of her head. I feel a little self-conscious, like maybe kissing random babies is not a good idea, but Lance beams at me.
“Sorry I passed out. I only meant to close my eyes for a minute.” He holds out his arms and I transfer Lane over to him. I don’t want to, I’ve grown attached to the squirt. But he’s her dad and it’d be weird for me to argue.