Page 28 of Spring Break With a Baby Daddy
“It’s in a part of town…” her fingers fly over the keyboard. “I think it’s near where Jenny lived.”
“Is that where Lisa is?”
“I’m not sure. I think so. Until six months ago she was living at home while attending college.”
“She’s not at college now?”
“No. I can’t give you a definite answer, but I’d say she dropped out to have Cade. She’s probably still at the house she shared with her mother.”
“Right. Makes sense.”
“There are a couple of scenarios but I can’t confirm which is correct without digging deep.”
“Don’t. We’ll get settled tonight and tomorrow, then see about meeting with the law firm Lisa drew that document up with.”
“Jenny worked there.”
“What?” I slow the car and turn into the gas station that’s conveniently located next to a public rest stop.
“Jenny Kincade was employed as a paralegal-slash-office manager at the law firm Lisa used.”
“Oh. That should make getting answers easier.”
“I’d say so. It looks like Jenny was a valued employee. She’s listed on their website in a number of places.”
“Is there an after hours number we can call to make an appointment?” I pull up to a pump. “Stay here while I fill up. I’ll move over to the rest area when I’m done.”
I don’t give her time to comment. I’m out of the car, running my card, and pumping gas within a minute.
A number of thoughts are spiraling in my head.
The first thing I need to do is find out what the state of Georgia requires for us to get married. If I can convince Vivi to do that while we’re here, I stand a better chance of adopting Cade.
And I finally get to do what I’ve spent months thinking about.
Claim Vivi as mine.
Vivi
With a final pat to Cade’s back, I straighten. The nightlight in the wall gives enough brightness for me to see his eyes are still closed and his little chest is rising and falling in the breaths of deep sleep.
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve come to know what his cries and movements mean.
He’s been fussy, squirming and crying, since before we arrived in Atlanta.
Not that I blame him. We’d pushed the final leg of our trip to get here and Cade might have gone close to five hours between the last bottle he had this morning before we left Love Beach and the one we gave him at the rest stop but that gap wasn’t the start of a new routine.
Nope. Two hours after we stopped for gas and snacks, we were almost at our destination and he was raising holy hell from the backseat.
I’m not sure who regretted our decision to continue more. The baby who gave himself the hiccups he cried so hard, the man gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as he battled late afternoon traffic, or me, the contortionist-wannabe attempting to soothe Cade from the front seat.
Now, after three hours rocking, a bottle, and a diaper change, Cade is sleeping soundly and I’m ready to join him.
Except now I have to deal with another troubling situation.
The apartment only has one bedroom.
One bed.
