The Mechanic

-Chapter Six-

Location: Central

It's been quite a morning.

Day before yesterday I ended up with bruised knees, and yesterday I got to tinker on the piano at my shop in peace.

Today, I somehow got roped into a babysitting operation with a crazy redhead and a very young relative of mine.

On a normal day, I wouldn't be caught dead washing baby diapers.

On a normal day, though, I wouldn't be around a girl that I've realized I might have a crush on. Not in the same house. Not within a mile.

But every time I catch her watching me, this puzzled, thoughtful look on her face, my stomach starts doing things that I don't remember it ever doing before.

"Are you going to cook lunch, or should I?" she asks, setting Piper down on a blanket in the middle of the floor. She's just learning to crawl, so we have very little fear of her escaping. After all, I imagine that we can move faster than she can. Or at least, I hope.

"I don't care," I say, tossing another diaper into the pile of clean ones. If I was a smart human I would have thrown them all away and bought new ones or something.

I shudder. Never again.

"I'll do it, I guess." She casts me a crooked, yet pitying smile. "You've been handling the messy part."

I gulp. "Please. Just shut up, if you will."

"Maybe I will," she muses, "and maybe I won't. Haven't decided yet."

"Have mercy," I sigh, flopping down on the floor beside Piper. She scoots over to me on her belly and grabs my nose.

Femi laughs. "Maybe."

I let my niece clamber all over my face without complaint, only glad that there aren't anymore things to wash. At this point, I don't mind what she does.

She scoots even closer, batting at my eyes with her little fist, and gurgles.

"You can talk to her, you know. She won't bite," Femi chuckles. "And she won't judge you for saying stupid things, so you're safe."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"No problem."

I sit up, trying to figure what to say to Piper. What does one say to babies?

There's a clanging of pots and pans as Femi gets out something to cook in.

"What are you making?" I ask, marveling at how far Piper's mouth stretches as she yawns. Like a gaping pit, that one. It's almost scary. It would be scary if she wasn't so adorable.

"Food," Femi says. "I don't know. A few cans of different stuff. There's some canned beef around here somewhere, I think..." she trails off. "Yeah. Maybe I'll make stew. Does that sound good?" She raises her voice an octave or two, and says to Piper, "Doesn't that sound good?"

The baby giggles, grinning wide and hides her face in a lump in the blanket.

I crack a smile, reaching out to touch her plump cheek. She squeals at me and hides in the blanket again.

She looks like me, Matt has said. He says that every time she frowns at him, he can see me in her.

I'm still weighing the facts to determine if I should be offended or not.

"Does she look like me?" I ask, suddenly finding myself comfortable. Piper climbs into my lap and thumps her tiny hands against my stomach.

"What?"