Page 31 of The Way We Collide

He groans. “I’ll let you do that on your own.”

“It’ll be fun! Look, Haddy agrees with me, don’t you, baby?” I step forward, but our little daughter’s brow furrows.

“See?” he laughs. “She does not agree. She thinks that’s a terrible idea.”

Her blue eyes lose focus for a minute, and I press my lips together. I know that look. “I don’t think that’s what she thinks.”

The distinctive scent of baby poop permeates the air around us, and Hendrix’s eyes snap to mine.

“Haddy!” He cries, lifting her by her midsection and holding her away from his body. “What did you do?”

“She pooped.” I hold my nose, trying not to laugh.

“She was just sitting on my arm!” His face wrinkles with a grimace. “How could she sit there and do that on my arm?”

I shrug. “Babies poop, Hendrix.”

Her little eyes squint, and her bottom lip wobbles. She holds out her arms to him, starting to cry.

“Ugh—it smells so bad!” He turns his head, dropping his jaw and breathing through his mouth.

“You have to change her.”

Panicked blue eyes lock on mine. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can!” I smile encouragingly.

“Raven…”

“She’s not on fire, Hendrix, and there’s a good chance you’ll be alone with her and a poopy diaper at some point.” Haddy cries harder, and I take her from him. “Come on, baby.”

I snatch up the diaper bag from the kitchen table and carry her into the living room. Haddy puts her little head on my arm.

“You’re not going to do it on my rug!” Hendrix’s voice is pure horror.

“I’ll put a blanket under her. Now get over here and help me.” I take a baby blanket from the bag and spread it over the expensive Persian rug, then I take out a fresh diaper and the packet of baby wipes.

He kneels beside me, but when I open the dirty diaper, he falls back on his butt, cupping his face. “Oh, God!”

Then he jumps up and dashes into the kitchen.

“You’ve got to learn how to do this!” I yell after him.

Haddy’s little lip quivers and a tear is on her bottom lashes. “It’s okay, sweetie.” My voice is soothing. “Daddy is new at this.”

I’m smiling, doing my best to calm her down when her blue eyes flash and she lets out an even louder scream that makes my heart jump to my throat.

Hendrix drops to his knees beside me wearing a snorkel mask and yellow rubber gloves.

Haddy cries, trying to twist away, but I hold her. “Take that off—you’re scaring her!”

“I can’t… that smell!” he argues.

“Hendrix!” I push him with my elbow, and his shoulders drop.

Haddy won’t be consoled, and he finally takes off the mask. At once, he jerks forward, holding a gloved hand over his nose and mouth like he’s about to vomit.

“You’re kidding me,” I groan. “Don’t you dare throw up on her!”

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