Page 79 of One Moment Please
“Very big,” Christine adds with a smile as she offers her hand. “And I’ve heard you’ve got a very big—”
“Television!” Lynsey finishes, squeezing her nieces’ shoulders to her sides, her face stricken with guilt. “We’ve got all sorts of movies and games and popcorn and we’re going to have a great slumber party, right girls?”
“Is that where the baby is?” the younger one asks, poking Lynsey in her stomach.
“Yes, Claire, this is where the baby is.” Lynsey pats her bump and glances nervously at me.
“That’s so weird,” the older one says and reaches out to pet Lynsey’s belly next.
The whole scene makes me uncomfortable. These kids just got here and they’re already rubbing Lynsey like a Buddha statue.
Lynsey clears her throat and gestures to the taller one. “Josh, this is Lennon. And the little one here is Claire.”
Claire holds Lynsey’s hand and tucks herself behind her aunt. “I’m not little.”
Lynsey purses her lips. “You’re right, Claire. You’re eight now. Nothing little about that! And Lennon, is eleven,” she offers to me. “God, where did the time go? Come on you guys, come inside.”
I step back so they can make their way in. Lynsey’s sister stares at me as she enters. Appearance-wise, she’s basically a taller version of Lynsey, but her brown hair is short and cut at an angular level around her face. The girls beeline for the craft table and drag Lynsey with them while Christine sidles up beside me.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you ready for all this?”
I shrug. “I’m not much of a crafter I’m afraid.”
Christine narrows her eyes at me. “I mean are you ready to become a dad?”
“Is anyone ever ready?” I reply with another shrug. “We’ll figure it out.”
She tilts her head and glares. “How old are you, Josh?”
“Thirty-four.” I square my shoulders to not look weak in front of this oddly intimidating woman.
“Ever been married?”
“No.”
“Ever close?”
“No.” I turn to face her. “My job takes most of my focus.” My hand grips my neck as my muscles tighten under her rapid interrogation.
She nods, looking me up and down like a zoo animal. “And now my sister is taking some of your focus.”
My brow furrows at that remark.
She leans close. “And a baby will take even more focus.”
I nod as a prickle of anxiety skates over me. “Have any advice for me?”
“Yeah.” She pulls back and slaps my shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Children are exhausting. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew they were a lot of work, and back when they were my patients in Baltimore, I could tell parents were run ragged between chasing siblings and dealing with the one who was ill. But the fact that Lennon and Claire never stopped talking or moving or spilling or asking for something or feeling some emotion the entire time is a mentally exhausting reality.
And from everything I’ve been told, babies are even harder. How will Lynsey and I cope? Thank fuck she moved in here with me so we can help each other because to consider doing this all on our own seems completely unrealistic. And to imagine people actively choosing to have more than one seems like a confusing life choice.
It’s nearing ten o’clock by the time Lynsey’s nieces finally fall asleep on the couch during the movie. I’m on one end of the sofa, and Lynsey’s on the other. Both girls sprawl on top of us as their soft snores echo through the room.
It’s a strange sensation being so close to kids again.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t hate it.
