Page 15 of A Layperry's Hope
Taking a page from his book, I nod and say, “don’t mention it.”
Christian chuckles, shaking his head at me before digging into his food. I help Maribel off my chest and close my shirt. Then I place her against my shoulder and pet her back until a burp works its way out.
“Whoa. Nice one, Maribel,” Christian says with surprised, wide eyes. “I didn’t know she had it in her!”
“You will be surprised the amount she has in her. Wait until you get your first poopy diaper.”
“Is it weird if I say I’m looking forward to it?”
I shrug. “A little, but I will not hold it against you.”
“Appreciate it,” he says, pretending to tip his hat at me. He scarfs down the rest of his food before taking his plate to the sink and washing his hands. “I can take her so you can eat,” he says, holding out his hands for Maribel.
It’s so wonderfully strange to have an extra pair of hands around. The weight of parenthood is crushing, but now that Christian is here, it doesn’t feel like it will flatten me. It feels manageable.
I pass our child over. He lifts her in the air, hovering her over his head.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Christian narrows his eyes. “I can’t hold my daughter in the air? Really?”
“I wouldn’t.”
Ah. There’s my prickly asshole. He scoffs and turns around in a circle. “You love this, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Christian grins up at our daughter and in response, she opens her mouth and projects vomit right into his open mouth.
Chapter Eight
Christian
I’ve been back for a few weeks and somehow, Ghenie and I have worked out a routine that works for us. When Maribel wakes up at night, I change her before bringing her back to Ghenie along with a glass of water. In the morning, I’m usually up first and get the day started with tea and breakfast. In the afternoon, Ghenie puts Maribel down for her nap while I head over to Miles’ house so I can visit with him and Druim, and sometimes Timalah if he’s not busy doing things in town or with his brothers-in-arms.
When Ghenie has things to do in town, he often straps Maribel to his chest and brings her with, but sometimes he leaves her home with me. The first time, I could tell it was a struggle to leave her. The faith he’s putting in me is humbling. I still struggle, feeling like I don’t deserve it. He should just throw me out and be done with me, but I’m thankful he’s decided to keep me around.
I keep wondering when this will blow up in my face. Surely, I’ll fuck this up and hurt him again. I’m a broken man. Yet, forwhatever reason, Ghenie always greets me with a smile, like it’s a marvel that I’m actually here with him. Jesus Christ, I’m going to hate myself if I fuck this up.
It’s still so hard to wrap my head around the fact that I have a daughter. She looks exactly like me with her dark eyes and messy brown hair. She wrinkles her nose just like me too. Yet her skin is almost as pale as Ghenie’s. One night. One night of taking a chance and somehow this beautiful person was made. It barely feels real. Some nights I wake up, convinced this has all been a dream instead of my real life.
“If you think any harder I’m going to start to smell something burning,” Miles says as he sits down beside me on the porch. I shove my shoulder into him.
“Asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.”
I snort, shaking my head at him but gratefully accepting the brown tea he hands me. It’s not the same as coffee but it’s the closest thing they have here. I take a sip, letting the flavor wash over me.
“Iaman asshole. I think I always will be.”
“That’s okay. I like that about you,” Miles says, nudging me with his elbow. “You don’t take anyone’s bullshit, you’re not afraid to say what you think. You’re all prickly which means the fact that you let me in makes me pretty goddamn special.”
I hum. “If that’s how you wanna look at it, I ain’t gonna stop you.”
We drink our tea, staring across the road at my house. There are fields of flowers behind my house which softly sway in the wind. To our right is a giant stone wall, used to keep monsters away. When we first moved here, the idea of monsters really freaked me out and that fear doubled when Timalah showed up one day hurt while over there. Thank Christ that Miles and I were trained in medicine and could help.
That was the day things changed for Miles and Timalah. They stopped dancing around each other and allowed themselves to fall. It took a grand gesture, a serious slap in the face moment.
Is that what I need?
