Page 4 of Caught Up In You

“Absolutely. You did great, Mom,” he says, and I tear up at the new title for my baby sister. “Don’t hesitate to call with any questions, and you’ll get a text from my office about your first appointment. We want to see her in three to five days to make sure she’s eating and gaining weight like she should, but right now I have no concerns.”

I didn’t realize thatIwas holding my breath, waiting to hear the verdict from Eden’s doctor. Eden looks good to me, and she’s eating and sleeping, and Hazel and I have fumbled our way through our first diaper change (bless the kind nurse who refrained from laughing as she guided us through the motions). But what do I know about babies? So I’m grateful for his reassurance.

And then, with a final smile, he’s gone.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Wyatt,” Hazel says with a smirk. “Or ask him out.”

“The man wears khakis, Hazel,” I reply, settling back into the plastic recliner that’s become my temporary home. “He ownsmultiple pairsof khakis. Owen McBride is not for me. And besides, I have other things going on right now.”

And then, as if to remind us that she is now the boss, Eden lets out a wail that could wake the dead.

CHAPTER 2

WYATT

Three months later

Friday, January 13

“Have you seen this forecast? They say we’re supposed to get, like, a thoroughly apocalyptic ice storm this weekend,” Hazel calls from the living room. But I can’t focus too hard on the weather. I’m too busy enjoying the fact that for once I can actually hear her voice.

Over the past three months, I’ve fallen deeply in love with my adorable little ginger niece. I’ve watched her sparkling blue eyes focus more and more on the world around her. I’ve watched her start to figure out her hands, attempting to grab for things but most often winding up with her tiny fingers tangled in my hair. I’ve watched her get stronger, holding her head up even as she stubbornly protests tummy time.

And I’veheardthe little bugger screaming her lungs out. Every day, starting at about five p.m. and continuing for a solid three hours until she wears herself out, then again for four or five shorter stints during the night to express her displeasureat, I don’t know, life? The dark? The fact that she’s not yet old enough to enjoy the wonder and beauty that is the hot Cheeto?

Colic is a motherfucker, let me tell you.

But a couple of weeks ago, the screaming slowly began to subside. The jags got shorter, the wake-ups less frequent. She’s still not sleeping through the night by any means—god, that’s the dream—but at least she doesn’t audition for the Metropolitan Opera after each of her late-night feedings. And today when the witching hour hit, she seemed too focused on her rainbow baby gym to lodge her usual protest.

Thank. Fucking. God.

“Wyatt, did you hear me? An ice storm. They’re saying tomorrow afternoon.” I poke my head out of the kitchen and see my sister refilling the diaper changing station she has set up in the corner of the living room. “We’ve got plenty of diapers and wipes, but do we need anything else?”

I check the fridge. We’re stocked with eggs and milk, and there’s plenty of bread on the counter. “We can make French toast for an army if this thing actually hits,” I say, because Central Indiana weather forecasting is always a bit of a guessing game.

“Good,” Hazel says, then gives Eden’s belly a playful rub. The baby’s eyes go wide, and for a second I think we’re in for a grade-A protest, but then her little lips pull into a baby grin, her dimples deepening. Hazel and I pause to smile down at her, my stomach doing that warm, gooey evolutionary thing that makes me want to get my IUD removed.

I tell you, when the kid started smiling, it really took the edge off all that screaming.

Hazel glances up at me. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Uh, let’s see. Ernie is tending bar tonight, so I’m off. Which means I’m on duty at my part-time job: being Lady Eden’s handmaiden.”

Hazel scoffs. “You should go out.”

“Nah.”Going outhas thoroughly left my vocabulary. Hazel may be the mom, but the two of us are a team. On nights I work at the bar, I take the after-midnight shift at home, pulling an all-nighter because I can sleep during the day. Then I wake up and tag in so Hazel can get ready for her spring online classes.

My whole life is Eden and Hazel.

“Come on, why not? She’s doing so much better, and if this storm is coming, we’re all going to be trapped in here. For days, potentially. You haven’t been out in—” Hazel pauses to do math, but I’ve got the answer ready. I haven’t been out since this kid was born. Taking care of a baby is a full-time job, and I’ve been too tired to eventhinkabout dragging myself out of our little brick rancher to find some fun.

“It’s fine. I don’t feel trapped here with the little princess,” I say, bending down to nuzzle her soft cheek.

“Okay, but maybe I feel a little trapped here withyou,” Hazel says.

I jerk up to stare at her. “Hey!”

Hazel shrugs. “I know I’m being impolite here, because you have been Wonder Sister ever since I showed up pregnant. You are, bar none, the greatest auntie in the history of aunties. But you and I are both dangling from the frayed ends of our nerves. If this kid is finally calming down, then all I want in the whole world is to put her to bed, lie on the couch, and watch the trashiest television Bravo has to offer in asilentfucking house.”

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