Fred knocked on FP's trailer door early in the morning. He kindly brought him breakfast from the diner.
He didn't let the screaming from the other side of the door go unnoticed. Fred found the door unlocked and let himself in. He also found FP pacing around with a baby and a bottle in hand. FP looked over at Fred. Fred took one look at his face and knew he was struggling. The baby boy was wailing at the top of his lungs.
Fred put the take out bag on the counter and walked over to FP. "Let me try. You, go eat breakfast." Fred extended his arms to hold the baby in an attempt to aid him. "It looks like you both had a rough night."
FP desperately handed him his son and the baby bottle. Charles being fussy was just the start of it.
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Fred tried to bounce him up and down in his arms after adjusting him in his hold. FP watched his attempt to calm him down. "He doesn't want me. He wants her," FP frowned. Fred gave him a sympathetic look. FP's eyes flickered down in shame.
"No, that's not true. He's just adjusting too."
"I can't do this without her. She was everything, Freddie." His face softened. The tired creases on his face only got more defined.
"You can," Fred assured him. "And you're not alone. You can always ask me for help." Fred pointed to the bag. "Eat something. I've got this under control." FP hesitantly went to the kitchen. Fred slipped the bottle into Charles' mouth. "Hey, kiddo, I know it's rough but how about we ease up on your dad?" He gently told the boy. He latched onto the bottle and stared up at him. "Just like that," He whispered. "Everything is okay." He smiled. "Right, FP?" He turned to look at him. FP fell asleep at the table the second he got to relax. He looked back down at Charles. "You both need some shut eye." Fred walked over to the couch and continued to feed Charles. He noticed how quickly he was growing drowsy.
FP woke up an hour later with a loss of extra weight. He looked down and noticed he wasn't holding Charles.
The bathroom door opened and his best friend walked out. FP looked at him confused. "I put him down in his crib," Fred points towards the bedroom. "He's been down as long as you have so far."
"How did you do it?"
"He tired himself out," Fred shrugged. He took the pancakes out of the take out bag to reheat them in the microwave for him. "You must be starving. You didn't get to eat before you closed your eyes."
"I can't sleep," FP sighed.
"If he's giving you trouble at night try swaying him. He seems to like that." Fred placed the warm pancakes in front of FP.
