Page 25 of Raising Love
He turned to face me, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“I shouldn’t be starting my day like this.” I gestured around the room. “Your shit is everywhere except where it’s supposed to be. The least you can do is put it away when you get home.”
“I was tired,” he reasoned. “When I got back, I just wanted everything off me so I could get into bed.”
“Same,” I shot back. “I feel the same way when I get home. I just wanted to come down here, get some coffee before the baby gets up, and I have to take care of him until the nanny shows up. But here I am, wasting my time cleaning up your shit.”
“Aight, oh-fucking-kay,” he said. “I’ll do my best to do better.”
I rolled my eyes, closing them briefly.
“But for real, Ivy, I’m not about to make promises I’m not sure I can keep,” he added. “I’m not as uptight as you, so, you know…”
I jerked my head back.
“I just let it hang a lot of the time.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “For me, it ain’t really that big of a deal. Just clean it up, and I’ll try to be mindful next time.”
“This conversation is not making me feel any better,” I said flatly. “Just so you know.”
He lifted his arms, letting them drop. Then he patted his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
“Ha!” He laughed a little too hard. “I had it the whole time.”
Just then, Baby Love’s sharp cry pierced the air from his nursery upstairs.
I closed my eyes and collapsed my head back.
“Whew,” Leo said, grinning. “That’s my cue.”
He walked up to me, bent slightly, and pressed his lips to my cheek. Then he blew air against my skin, making my face rattle.
I punched his arm, and he laughed even louder.
“Sleep with one eye open tonight, Leo,” I threatened. “I swear I hate you.”
“Love you too,” he replied with a chuckle. “See you later. Don’t worry about food—I’ll bring dinner back for you.”
I shook my head, dropping the clutter in my hands onto the couch before heading toward the stairs.
All the nervousness I’d had about handling the baby had subsided after the days I spent learning under our baby nurse, Marta. I paid special attention to the small details she shared about caring for him, and it seemed to have paid off.
His cries grew louder the moment I opened the door but began to settle as I approached his bassinet.
“Good morning,” I said the moment our eyes met. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He looked so much like Kendra—especially those eyes. “Why are you crying so loudly and so early in the morning? I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
As soon as I lifted him and laid him against my chest, the crying stopped completely.
I walked over to the section of his room that housed his bottles, the bottle warmer, a few framed photos, and the small fridge Marta recommended we keep in the nursery for easy access to his formula. One of those framed photos was of Kendra and Tyrell on their wedding day. Leo and I kept it on the baby's dresser as our way of helping Baby Love remember his roots, despite his parents not being around.
Our nanny had left a bottle in the warmer before ending her shift the night before, so it was perfectly ready for Baby Love’s morning feeding.
When it came to schedules, Baby Love was consistent. That’s where he and I connected. He did everything according to schedule, including feeding, and I loved the predictability. It was one of the few things to love in this situation.
I took a seat in the rocking chair and laid him in position to start feeding. As always, he was eager, latching onto the bottle’s nipple and suckling his milk right away.
“How about Bradley?” I whispered, my eyes locked on his. “Anthony?”
We were still trying out names. It was a miracle Leo and I had been allowed to go this long without settling on Baby Love’s first name. I was the only one making suggestions, though.
