Page 115 of The Other Brother
Kate finally answers the door. She’s wearing an oversized sweater and hasn’t combed her hair. And are those her pajama bottoms? It’s almost 2 pm.
I’ve never seen her so frazzled.
“Here.” She shoves Ethan at me.
I hold him gingerly. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Just walk around with him on your shoulder. Support his head with your hand. I need to have a shower.”
I walk down the hallway toward the living room, following Kate’s instructions, cradling his head carefully. Ethan’s hair is soft under my palm.
I can already hear the shower starting.
Ethan continues to cry loudly in my ear. For something so little, he sure can make a lot of noise. I look sideways at him. His little face is scrunched up as he howls.
“Come on, come on,” I say to him. “That’s enough.”
I sing the first line of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” but if anything, his cries only increase. Yeah, my singing has that effect on people.
Shit. What the hell do you do with babies to stop them crying?
I jiggle up and down in a dance move that’s worse than anyOne Directionroutine.
Suddenly Ethan emits a burp so big, he’d impress a football team.
I’m impressed too, until I see that his burp has left a nasty reminder on my T-shirt.
“What the hell?” I say. “That’s not good nephew etiquette.”
Kate comes out of the bathroom. She looks a little more human, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her damp hair scraped back into a ponytail.
“Your baby just threw up on me,” I inform her.
“Welcome to the club.” She takes him from me and puts him in the baby swing, which automatically rocks him backward and forward when she switches it on.
She grabs her phone, and suddenly the sound of piano music fills the air.
I think I recognize the song.
“Is this Cody playing?” I ask through a lump in my throat.
“Oh yeah, Cody made Ethan a soundtrack of his music. It seems to soothe him.”
Funny how I’m the one who currently has baby vomit on my T-shirt and I’m still being outclassed by Cody. But I’m not even jealous or angry. Hearing his music just makes me miss Cody even more. Appropriately, the song that’s playing now is the one he wrote himself, the one he said was about longing for something. 'Cause I might know a thing or two about that feeling right now.
Kate settles back on her haunches and blows out a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” I kind of feel obliged to ask, even though it is clear that she and okay parted company a while ago.
“It’s just so hard.” Kate’s voice wobbles. “I’m so tired, and he cries all the time and wakes up so many times every night.”
Well yeah, he’s a baby. That’s what he’s supposed to do.
I don’t say the words though.
What would Cody do? Although I’m trying to keep Cody out of my brain, it strikes me he would be so much better in this situation. He’s the type of brother that would know what to say.
But he’s not here. It’s up to me.
