Claire laughed. “Oh, what are you complaining about? You told Brian you’d love to babysit Baylee! And anyway, I thought you weren’t exactly Mr. Party Animal anymore.”
“Uh, first of all, you told Brian we’d love to babysit Bay-“
“You said it too!”
“Well, you said it first! And then what was I gonna do, say no and tag along with them while you stayed here and baby-sat?”
“Yeah right, you wouldn’t have gone with them to that party, and you know it.”
Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “How would you know? I happen to like Halloween parties.”
“Yeah? So do I. What would you have gone as?”
“Huh?”
Claire sighed impatiently. “What would you have dressed up as? For Halloween. You already asked me that yesterday, and I answered, so now it’s your turn.”
“Oh...” Nick thought for a moment, then smirked. “A pirate.” Claire burst out laughing, and he grinned widely. “What? Easy costume, right? I mean, I’ve already got the peg leg...”
She giggled. “True...”
“And you could have gone with me. Only instead of toothpaste, you could’ve dressed up like the chick from Pirates of the Caribbean. Keira Knightley.”
“Oh ha ha, right. You mean in one of those colonial dresses that show half your boobs? I’m sure you’d love to see that,” she teased him, rolling her eyes.
He just smiled. Yeah, I would, actually, he thought, snickering to himself.
Claire jabbed him in the ribs. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Hey, what time is it? He looks like he’s getting sleepy.” He pointed to Baylee, who was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, engrossed in Finding Nemo, which they’d put on for him earlier. The toddler was rubbing his eyes with his fists.
Claire looked at the clock. “It’s almost eight. Leighanne said he’d probably be ready to go down about now.” She slid off of the couch and crawled across the floor to where Baylee was sitting. “Hey, kiddo, is it about night-night time?”
Baylee looked over at her and quickly began to shake his head. “No nigh-nigh!”
She smiled. “I think it is,” she stated softly. “C’mere.” She scooped him up gently and stood up. “Uh oh, smells like someone’s going to need a diaper change before bedtime.” She wrinkled her nose.
Nick grimaced. “Good luck with that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’m doing it? You’re his godfather, aren’t you?”
“What?! I don’t even know how to change a diaper!”
“’Bout time you learned then, huh?” She grinned.
“Ugh, no way. You’re the chick here; that’s your job.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you just said that! I was kidding about you doing it; I was going to take care of it. But now that you said that...”
“Oh, Claire, c’mon. I told you, I don’t know how.”
“Well, I’ll show you. Come on, upstairs we go,” she commanded, balancing Baylee on her hip and starting for the stairs. She stopped at the foot of them and turned back to look at Nick. “Come on, Nick, I mean it.” She waited, staring at him until he finally heaved a sigh and got up from the couch. Making a big show of his reluctance, he dragged himself over to where she was standing. She smiled. “Good boy. Now come on.” She led the way up the stairs and down the hall to Baylee’s room.
The nursery was decorated in a sky theme. The wall that Baylee’s crib was on was painted deep blue, like the night sky. Some stars had been painted on it, and there were other stars – pastel yellow cloth ones with smiling faces – hanging in various spots. A sliver of a moon was painted high in one corner. The adjacent walls were a gradient, lightening from the navy blue to a light sky blue, which was the color of the last remaining wall. This wall was dotted with painted white clouds. A pastel rainbow stretched across it, and in a corner shone a bright yellow sun. Baylee’s crib bedding was all done in moon and star patterns, and the cushions on the changing table and rocking chair all matched.
The theme continued through most of the room, but off in one corner was Brian’s own personal contribution to the decorating of his son’s nursery. A Kentucky Wildcats pennant hung on the wall, and below it, low to the ground, a Nerf basketball hoop was mounted. There was an orange Nerf ball resting on the floor below it.
Nick grinned and pointed this out to Claire. “Bri’s training him early,” he said with a chuckle. He had already been down to the Littrells’ basement, where Baylee’s bigger toys were set up, one of which was a Playskool basketball hoop. Baylee also had a mini golf set, a t-ball set, and a tiny soccer goalpost and ball. Clearly, Brian was hoping his son had inherited his athletic skills (and Leighanne’s height).
“Aww,” Claire said, giggling at the tiny ode to Wildcat basketball. She carried Baylee over to his changing table. When she’d taken off his shoes, socks, and bib overalls, she turned to Nick. “Okay, ready to learn how to change a diaper?”
Nick made a face. “No.”
“Well, you’re going to learn anyway. This is important stuff. Come here.”
Nick grudgingly stepped closer until he was standing beside her and looking down on Baylee, who was lying on his back, looking up at them with wide blue eyes. “Sorry, kid,” he said softly. “I don’t think I’m going to enjoy this anymore than you will.”
“Maybe not, but it will be for the better,” said Claire. “Just like Baylee will feel much better once he has a dry diaper, right Baylee?”
“No,” Baylee said and grinned adorably when Nick started to laugh. “No” seemed to be the kid’s favorite word.
“Oh, yes,” smiled Claire, gently undoing the sticky tabs that fastened the diaper in the front and carefully pulling the diaper down. Nick’s senses were immediately assaulted by an unpleasant sight and an even more foul smell.
“Ugh,” he gagged and backed away. “That is some nasty shi- I mean, stuff.”
Claire’s head snapped around, her eyes flashing at him with an unspoken message – Watch your mouth!
Nick grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said, plugging his nose and adding in a nasally voice, “but that’s just... nasty! How can you stand it?”
“Grow up, Nick, it’s not like you don’t do it too.”
“Well, I don’t do it in a diaper and then make someone else have to take care of it!”
“Shh,” Claire hissed. “Stop it. It’s not like he can help it.”
“Stop it,” Baylee echoed gleefully, as Claire rolled up the soiled diaper and crammed it into the diaper disposal system that sat next to the changing table.
“Will you hand me a couple of baby wipes?” she asked.
“These?” Nick asked, picking up a blue plastic container.
“Those would be baby wipes, yes.” She took the container from him and pulled out two of the wipes, using them to get Baylee all cleaned up. “Now it’s time for a new diaper, Nick – watch and learn.” He rolled his eyes, but obediently watched as she put a fresh diaper on the toddler. “All done,” she announced. “Now let’s get you into your jammies, okay, kiddo?”
“No nigh-nigh,” Baylee protested again, but let her dress him in a pair of footie pajamas with teddy bears on them nonetheless.
“When do kids get potty trained?” Nick asked as he watched Claire, still haunted by the smell of that diaper.
“At two, usually.”
“Ugh... two years of changing diapers? My kid’s gonna be potty trained by his first birthday.”
Claire snorted. “Right, Nick.”
“He is! Just you wait.”
“Okay, Nick.” Clearly, she didn’t believe him. He’d show her, when the day came.
“Do you want to read a bedtime story, Baylee?” Claire asked, lifting Baylee off of the changing table and set him down. She walked him over to the small bookcase that was pushed up against one well and filled with children’s books. “Which one should we read?” she asked, squatting down to his height.
The toddler stood there, his eyes roaming over the spines of all the books. Claire pulled a few out to show him the covers. “This one?” she would ask.
“No,” he would say back.
“This one?”
“No.”
“Well, how about this one?”
“No.”
Nick sighed impatiently, beginning to think the kid would say “no” to every book Claire offered him. But Baylee surprised him when finally, he said, “Dis one!” and beamingly held a book up for Claire to see.
She smiled. “Green Eggs and Ham? Good choice. Do you want Nick to read it to you?”
Startled, Nick quickly shook his head. “No, that’s okay, you read it,” he said. He had always hated reading out loud; it brought back too many bad memories of elementary school, when his teachers had made the class take turns reading passages from their textbooks out loud. He had always ended up daydreaming while the others read and losing his spot, which left him totally flustered when his turn came up, and he had no idea where they were. Then he would get nervous and stumble over words and stammer as he tried to get through his paragraph, and at the end, he would always be beet red and ready to sink through the floor. No, oral reading was definitely not his forte. The only time he didn’t mind doing it was if he was acting, reading off a script. Somehow, that was different.
“You!” Baylee echoed, holding the book up to Claire. Nick exhaled a silent sigh of relief. Smart kid.
“Okay,” she said, taking the book and Baylee’s hand. She walked him over to the rocking chair and sat down in it, pulling Baylee into her lap. Then she opened the book and started to read. “I am Sam. Sam I am. That Sam-I-Am! That Sam-I-Am! I do not like that Sam-I-Am! Do you like green eggs and ham? I do not like them, Sam-I-Am. I do not like green eggs and ham...”
Nick leaned up against the changing table and watched as she read, rocking slowly in the rocking chair. He felt sort of guilty – maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to pass off the bedtime story to Claire. She’d basically done everything else all night. It had been she who had fed Baylee dinner, chased after him, picked up his toys from the floor, changed his diaper. He’d been worthless as a babysitter. Brian had told him once that he would make a good father someday, but he was seriously doubting that. He didn’t see how he ever could have handled Baylee all by himself tonight and wondered if Brian and Leighanne would have even asked him to babysit if Claire hadn’t have been there. He couldn’t even read the kid a bedtime story.
Claire was doing a great job of it though, much better than he ever would have done. She read with inflection, accentuating all the rhyming words and changing her voice to do the different characters. “Would you eat them in a box? Would you eat them with a fox? Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I would not eat them here or there. I would not eat them anywhere. I would not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-Am!”
She rocked back and forth to the rhythm of the poetry, while Baylee leaned back against her sleepily, smiling every time she got to “I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-Am!”
By the time she was done, Baylee looked totally relaxed, and when she carried him over to his crib and gently put him down in it, he lay right down, sticking his thumb into his mouth. “Goodnight, Baylee,” she said softly, smoothing back his blonde hair just like a mother would do to her own child, and then stepping back.
“’Night, squirt,” Nick whispered, reaching over the side of the crib to ruffle the hair Claire had just smoothed down. “We’ll see you in the morning.” He and Claire left the room, turning out the light and shutting the door halfway on their way out.
“Do you think he’ll cry?” Claire whispered, as they crept down the hall.
“I dunno... did he cry when they put him to bed last night?”
“I don’t know. But a lot of kids will cry when their parents aren’t the ones tucking them in. At least almost all the kids I used to babysit did that.”
Nick shrugged. “Should we stay upstairs then? Just in case?”
“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea,” Claire agreed.
“You wanna go out on the balcony?” Nick suggested. Brian and Leighanne had a nice, large balcony overlooking their sweeping cement patio at the back of the house. “I’m sure we’ll be able to hear him from there if he cries.”
“Okay,” said Claire, and out they went. “Ooh,” she drew in a breath, shivering, as she stepped out onto the balcony. “It’s cold out here!”
“Yeah, it is,” said Nick, feeling the chill. “Should we just stay inside then?”
“Nah, it’ll be okay... do you know where they keep blankets or something like that?”
“Um... maybe.” There was a linen closet in the upstairs hall; Nick went back in and opened it up. Sure enough, there were piles of neatly-folded blankets and quilts on the shelves. He grabbed a couple of the thickest-looking ones and took them back outside with him.
“Perfect,” Claire said with a smile, taking one and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked around, scoping out the selection of handsome, wood deck furniture that adorned the balcony, and then settled herself down on the couch, which was covered with comfy-looking off-white cushions. “Come sit down,” she said, motioning Nick over as she made herself comfortable, snuggling in and pulling the blanket more tightly around herself.
Nick wrapped his own blanket around himself and sat down beside her.
“It’s such a pretty night out, isn’t it?” she sighed, looking up at the sky. “Look, you can see all the stars.”
“Yeah...” Nick inhaled the crisp, fresh air deeply – a little too deeply, for he ended up coughing harshly into his fist.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting out here,” Claire said when he had finished, looking at him in concern. “I mean, with it being so chilly out, and you being sick...”
“I’m fine,” Nick said quickly. “Actually, I think the fresh air will be good... you know, clear out my sinuses a little.”
She nodded. “Hopefully. At least you didn’t cough all over Baylee tonight; that would have been bad.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. He had coughed that night, just not on the baby. Hey, there’s my excuse for not wanting to read to him – I didn’t want to get him sick, he thought, smiling to himself. “I hope this stupid cold goes away soon. I don’t want to end up losing my voice or something before the concert.”
“Oh, that would be terrible!” Claire gasped. “It should be gone by then though... I mean, the concert’s not for another month, and you’ve been sick for over a week already, haven’t you? It’s gotta go away soon.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said. “I mean, I’m a lot better than I was last week, except for this cough.”
“Good. You just better take care of yourself for the next few weeks.”
“I know, I know,” he said hurriedly, afraid she was going to start reminding him of Kevin if he let her go any further. Besides AJ, Claire was the only one who didn’t nag him about his health on occasion, so he’d be damned if she was going to start now. He hastened to change the subject. “So... think Tim’s tried to call you again tonight?” The words were out of his mouth before he really thought about them, but he regretted them instantly. Doh! he thought. Why did I have to bring up him?
But Claire was snickering. “Probably,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“That dude needs to get a life. He’s acting like a stalker,” Nick muttered in disdain.
“Nah... I told you, Tim’s a good guy. He just cares about me.”
“I’m sure you could find another ‘good guy’ who cares about you without being creepy about it,” said Nick. Me, for example?
“Yeah, and I’m sure you could find a girl who cares about you without being a skanky, bottle-blonde gold-digger,” she replied brazenly. “But then again, maybe not.”
“Hey!” Nick cried in offense, realizing what she meant by this.
She offered him an impish smirk. “Sorry, buddy,” she said with shrug, “but your track record’s against you there. Let’s see, there’s Leah – was that her name? The stripper who conned you into thinking you’d knocked her up? And then didn’t you date Willa Ford at one point too? There’s another one. Who else?” She had been ticking their names off with her fingers; now she was tapping her chin, trying to come up with more examples.
He glared at her. “Gee, thanks, Claire, for bringing all that up. Like I really wanted to be reminded of all that.”
Immediately, she looked apologetic, apparently realizing she’d crossed the line. “I’m sorry,” she said, then added, “But you gotta admit, Nick, you have horrible taste in women.”
He scowled. “Oh I do, huh? So would you take it as an insult if I ever asked you out?”
She laughed lightly, but didn’t answer, he noted. For a fleeting moment, he almost considered doing it, asking her out. In his mind, he could see his chance; the door was opened, that special window of time raised. But quickly, he dismissed the idea, letting the window fall closed, the door slam shut.
Number one, he wasn’t going to ask her out after she’d just insulted him and rubbed salt in his wounds by bringing up his little string of nightmare girlfriends. And number two, he wasn’t about to ruin this night by giving her the chance to reject him again. The last time he’d been on his way to asking her out, he’d ended up all by himself in a lonely booth, binging on cheese pizza, while she’d driven off in a fury, running over his heart in the process.
“Don’t even tell me you’ve never had any bad boyfriends,” he said, turning the tables on her instead and trying to keep himself from dwelling on that opportune chance he’d let fly on by. “I can’t be the only one who’s made mistakes with my love life.”
She tipped her head thoughtfully. “I dunno... before Tim, I’d really only ever had one serious boyfriend. I mean, you can’t really count all those two-week-long flings in junior high, can you?” She giggled. “I had a few of those, but my first real relationship wasn’t till high school. Junior year. Jamie Turner.” She sighed wistfully and leaned her head back against the cushion. “He was my first love.”
Nick smiled awkwardly. “So... I take it he wasn’t a bad boyfriend then?”
“No, not really. He was my best friend. I mean, we were friends way before we started dating, and I fell for him sophomore year, and then, the next spring, he asked me to junior prom.” She sighed again in a very girlish way, and added, “It was like a fairy tale, you know? We dated all through senior year, and of course, I thought that was it, that he was, you know, ‘the one.’ I always thought he was the guy I was going to marry someday...”
“But?” Nick prompted. He sensed there was going to be a “but.”
“But,” she said – he was right – “but you know as well as I do that life just doesn’t work like that. We broke up after graduation. We were going to different colleges, and he thought we should see other people. So I was crushed, of course, but we promised to still be friends, and we were, for awhile. Things actually didn’t change too much until the end of our sophomore year of college – that’s when I was first diagnosed with leukemia. He kind of freaked out, got weird on me.”
Nick felt a rush of anger course through his veins. He had been only half-listening to her little “fairy tale” love story that apparently hadn’t ended happily ever after, but now he was fully engaged. He didn’t have any experience with junior high flings, high school proms, fairy tale romances, and going away to college, but he did know what it was like to have your friends turn weird on you, to suddenly feel alienated and alone because of cancer. He understood her feelings exactly.
“God, that sucks... that really sucks. It’s happened to me too – the guys are really the only friends I still see these days; my other friends kinda did that too.”
She nodded. “It happens. Just one more side-effect of having cancer, I guess. My girl friends were more understanding, but Jamie... he just couldn’t take it. And I couldn’t understand how he was feeling either, so I got mad at him, and... well, we didn’t talk for like a year. Then he called me, after I’d been in remission for months and thought I was all better, and he apologized and stuff. We’ve been back on good terms ever since.”
“Oh.” Somehow, this was not the ending Nick had wanted to hear. He liked the part about her getting mad and refusing to speak to him better. What a jerk. He didn’t know the guy, but even so, he hated him, for hurting Claire.
“I don’t see him that often anymore though,” she said. “He lives in Iowa now. That’s where he grew up, so he moved back after college.”
“Oh,” Nick said again. Good. An awkward silence followed, and Nick hastened to change the subject, sick of hearing about Claire’s past boyfriends. “So, you think Brian and Leighanne are having a good time?” he asked. Okay, so instead of Claire and Tim – or Claire and this Jamie guy – they’d talk about Brian and Leighanne.
“I hope so.” Claire smiled. “They make such a great couple, don’t they? I mean, they seem like they’re so in love and so happy together. I hope I’ll have a marriage like that someday.”
“Yeah...” Nick said, remembering how much he’d resented Leighanne at first, when she and Brian had really gotten serious. She’d snatched away his Frick and transformed him from a fun-loving kid to a serious adult, and Nick had to admit, he’d been jealous of her. He had grown up and gotten over that long ago though. Leighanne was a wonderful woman, and Claire was right – she and Brian made the perfect couple. He could only wish for that kind of love and happiness with his first wife. “Bri’s a lucky guy,” he spoke up. “He found his soulmate.”
She cocked her head. “Do you believe in all that? Soulmates and that kind of thing?”
“I dunno,” he replied with a shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it that much, I guess. But in Brian’s case, it seems like it could be real.”
She nodded and smiled. “That’s cool. You don’t really seem like the type to go for the whole ‘soulmate’ thing, so I was just wondering.”
“Well, what about you? Do you believe in it?”
She was silent for a long time. Finally, she answered, “I don’t know either. I used to. I mean, when I was younger, I was more of a romantic – like most teenage girls are, I guess - and I was really into the idea of ‘love at first sight’ and all that. I was kind of that way with Jamie – well, not the ‘love at first sight’ thing, but I did think he was my one true love.” She snickered ruefully and then sobered, continuing, “But I’ve gotten a lot more cynical in my old age. ‘Love at first sight’ is a crock – I don’t believe you can fall in love with a person without knowing them. Because it’s personality that counts, right? It is for me anyway.
“But about soulmates and fate and all that... I just don’t know. When I was with Jamie, I believed in all that whole-heartedly. But that all changed when my life went to hell. A few years ago, I would have said it was total bullshit. Sometimes I still do. But then... then there are times that I think maybe things do happen for a reason...” She looked him in the eyes. “You know what I mean?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know...” He trailed off, lost in her gaze. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness, her face awash with golden light from the soft lanterns that lit the balcony. In his mind, he was taken back to that night in the theater, and before he could stop himself, he could feel himself leaning forward, his chin dipping, his face tilting to just the right angle.
She must have felt it too, the sudden connection between them. Her face was drifting toward his, slowly, but without hesitation. He reached out for her, lighting brushing her arm, then sliding his whole arm around her. Their bodies started to melt together, as their lips continued on that familiar pathway, destined to meet halfway. Her hands were on his shoulders now, sliding around to the back of his neck.
And then, all of a sudden, they were on his chest, pushing him away. Before he knew it, she had slipped out of his arms and pulled back, leaving him stunned. He looked down at his empty hands, then back up at her, his disappointed lips parted in shock. What had gone wrong?
She shook her head slowly and looked away from him, refusing to meet his eyes again. “We can’t do this,” she said softly.
“What? Why not?” he demanded.
“I have a boyfriend, and you have a cold,” she replied simply, crossing her arms over her chest.
He stared in confusion. “But...”
She looked up at him then, her eyes flashing. “I’m not going to do this again, Nick. I’m not going to... to kiss you and fulfill your little urges, only to have you tell me it meant nothing to you. If you’re feeling deprived and wanna get some action with a girl, why don’t you call up Leah and offer to pay her for a nice makeout session? Cause I won’t have any part in it.”
Nick’s mouth fell open even wider. Was that what she thought? In an instant, he was on his feet, towering over her in anger. “Fuck, Claire, if that’s what you think, then fine! I’ll just go in and give Leah a call; maybe she’ll give me some fucking phone sex! If I’m so goddamn pathetic, that would be right up my alley, wouldn’t it?”
She gazed up at him, looking thoroughly unaffected. She was straight-faced at first, but then a giggle escaped her lips. Her hand quickly flew to her mouth to stifle it, but it was too late, Nick had already both seen and heard it.
“What are you laughing at?” he growled.
She choked back another giggle. “I’m sorry. You’re just funny when you get all pissed off like that.”
That was enough to send Nick over the edge. “Oh yeah? Well, good, glad you think I’m so fucking amusing! Why don’t you just stay out here and have a good laugh then; I’m going inside.” He strode across the cement, flung open the French doors wide, and stormed into the house, slamming them behind him so hard he could hear glass rattle.
As he started down the hall, he heard Baylee begin to sob from his bedroom.
“Oh great, just fucking great,” Nick muttered under his breath, wanting very badly to just kick something. But he couldn’t even do that, unless he wanted to fall on his face. He envied Claire. She could kick things if she wanted to. In fact, she had. She’d kicked him right where it hurt the most.
No, not there.
A place that could feel even more pain than that. She’d kicked him straight in the heart.
***
