Page 59 of Roommate's Guide to Love

I look up to Quinn. “What?”

“You asked why Missy, who doesn’t know you, would ask you to do this. Because in that one meeting you had, and the little she knew about you, she knew that you’d be a safe place for her daughter. She made an impossible decision, Porter. But I have a feeling she didn’t do this lightly. You don’t want her to go into foster care. And Missy is gone who-knows-where. So what are you going to do, Porter McCoy?”

I stare at Grace. I’m not sure how many words she knows, because I know literally nothing about babies, but I swear this little thing is staring at me and daring me to let her go.

And it’s in this moment that I realized I’m already fucked when it comes to this kid.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I say in a panic, as the realization of what I’m about to do takes over. “I’ve never changed a diaper. Hell, the only reason I have any idea of how to hold a baby is because of Wes’s kids. And even then I was always scared I was going to drop them. What does she eat? When does she sleep? How will I know when to change her diaper? She can’t talk. How do I know what she needs? And all of those things are just the generic things I know I need to know about babies.”

“You know more than you think,” Quinn says as she moves closer to me. “First-time parents only know what they read in books. And even then, there’s stuff that happens every day that they were given zero warning about. Plus, you did your first Google search about baby things. You’re basically a pro.”

“You’re not making me feel better about this,” I say. “What would’ve happened tonight if you didn’t show up? One second I’m panicking, next second I’m still panicking but you’re taking over and changing diapers and feeding her and doing things that I knew nothing about. If you weren’t here…”

“No. Don’t think like that,” she says. “Eventually you would’ve called me, or Jenny, or even Wes and Betsy. You’re resourceful. I did it because I was here, but you would’ve figured it out.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“No, I’m not giving you enough.” Quinn takes my hand in both of hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be hard. But you’re going to do this. You have people who love you who will help you. Family. Friends. Hell, you have built-in babysitters at the bar.”

This makes Porter laugh. “I have a feeling Grace will be watching Harry and George more than they’d be watching her.”

“Probably,” Quinn twists in her seat to look straight at me, but doesn’t let go of my hand. “But what I’m saying is that you have a tribe here. A village. And you have me. I don’t know a lot, but what I don’t know I can ask Maeve or Ainsley. Hell, Simon is somehow Dad of the Year, which means anyone can do it. You can do this, Porter. I know you can.”

My eyes lock with Quinn’s, and the look of pride and encouragement is overwhelming. I start to lean in as does she, the emotion of the day too much to keep us apart. And just when I’m about to take that bottom lip, a squeal makes each of us jump back.

“Jesus Christ,” I say, breathing a little heavy as I realize it was just Grace, who is very excited that she made the television turn on with the remote. “One day in my care and she’s turning on televisions and texting.”

“Kids these days, too much screen time.”

I know Quinn is trying to keep the mood light, but I’m panicked right now. “Quinn?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you…can you stay tonight?”

“Um…I mean…”

“Please, Quinn. I know it’s not part of our agreement, but I’m terrified right now.” I take her hand because I need her to know just how serious I am. “I need help. If she wakes up in the middle of the night, I won’t know what to do. And you never taught me how to change a diaper. What if she needs one changed tonight? Please, you need to stay. I’m begging.”

As if Grace is realizing what I’m asking, I watch as she half crawls, half walks over to Quinn, before falling into her leg.

“See? Even Grace wants you to stay.”

She leans down, picking Grace up. “You want me to stay, Miss Ma’am?”

Grace doesn’t say anything, instead just squishes Quinn’s cheeks with her tiny little hands.

“I think that means yes.”

Quinn laughs as she takes one of her hands and blows raspberries into her palm. “Okay. I can stay. But just tonight. We’ll get you settled in, go out tomorrow and load you up on essentials. Then we’ll go from there.”

I let out a sigh of relief, but that’s until Quinn hands me Grace and goes to get her keys out of her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Relax. She needs food. Milk. A few more diapers, to be safe. I’m going to run to the all-night market to get us through.”

“Okay,” I say, trailing off. “That can’t wait until tomorrow?”

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