In which Tyson has no idea what he's doing.
//
At first, I thought I was hallucinating. Or maybe dreaming. Or both.
Either way, I figured it couldn't be reality because I woke up to the sound of a baby giggling. And to my knowledge, I hadn't had a baby recently.
Groaning, I rolled over on my side in an attempt to locate my alarm clock, only to find myself tumbling to the floor. Disoriented and utterly confused, I raised my head from the plush carpeting at the sound of adult laughter joining that of the toddler's and furrowed my eyebrows and pouted my lips at the sight.
Stella sat cross legged on the floor in front of me, bouncing Cooper in her lap.
And then it hit me.
The phone call I'd gotten the night before, waiting in a police station as they broke us the news, signing contracts to accept custody of Cooper.
It hit me like a tidal wave and I lay on the floor frozen and staring at the woman and baby before me.
Gone.
Eric and Georgia were gone.
I blinked at Stella as I struggled to wrap my head around the concept, pushing myself up to my knees. "Stel...last night..."
Her smile slowly faded and she gripped Cooper a little closer to her chest. "Yeah. I didn't really believe it when I woke up either."
I let out a long breath, reaching up a hand to tug and flatten my hair into a more presentable style. "So...what now?"
"You're the one with the plans," she retorted.
I rolled my eyes. I'd been awake for less than ten minutes and we were already bickering.
"I guess we should feed him?" I said, sitting back on my heels and tilting my head to the side. "He looks hungry."
"Maybe," she glanced down at the toddler. "Or maybe he just has gas."
Despite the gravity of the situation, I laughed. "What are you, the baby whisperer?"
She shrugged. "Honestly, I have no clue what I'm doing."
"Perfect," I whispered, honestly feeling a bit sorry for Cooper for having to endure the ineptness of mine and Stella's parenting skills.
Plopping down on the floor, I rested my forearms on my bent knees and studied the sight before me. Stella looked as though she was showered and prepared for the day, wearing light jeans, rolled at the ankles and a loose fitting baseball t-shirt, her hair tied up into a ponytail and pulled through the back of a Yankees cap.
Blinking, I pursed my lips. "You're already ready."
She seemed confused for a moment before glancing down at her clothing and nodding. "Yeah, I didn't sleep much, so I've been up for a while."
I instantly felt a knot of guilt twist in my stomach. Stella's response seemed more appropriate for having just experienced something traumatic. I, on the other hand, had slept soundly through the night, as though nothing was different. As though my best friend was still alive and I wasn't the guardian of a one-year-old child.
"Oh," I cleared my throat, tugging at my hair. "How long is awhile?"
"Three or four hours?" she shrugged. "I think I might have actually woken Cooper up."
"We have a lot of things to figure out, don't we?" I said quietly.
She looked momentarily frightened by the words before a small smirk tweaked the edges of her lips. Grabbing Cooper firmly by the hips, she hoisted him into the air and held him out towards me. "Right now, you can figure out how to change his diaper."
Gaping, I reached out to gather the toddler into my arms, my eyes wide with fear. "Why do I have to do it?"
"Because I'm not the one who decided to sleep in, lazy ass," she replied triumphantly, dusting her palms on her thighs before pushing herself to her feet. "I did the work this morning, you gotta do it now."
Wincing, I nodded as I stood slowly, holding Cooper gently as though I was afraid he would break. "Could I at least get some coaching?"
"Like I would really miss the chance to watch you try to change a diaper," she remarked, nodding towards the stairs. "Let's go, hot shot."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I muttered bitterly as I carried Cooper up the stairs to the nursery, holding him at a slight distance to avoid the smell emanating from his lower half.
My disgust wasn't exclusive to babies. In general, I hated other people's bodily fluids. All it took was for one person to slice themselves with a knife at the restaurant and I would feel queasy for the rest of the day.
"I've never seen you squirm before, Kingsley," she replied with far too much amusement in her tone. "You're usually the picture of calm, cool, and collected. This is extremely entertaining."
I rolled my eyes as we entered the nursery and I lay Cooper down on the changing table attached to the wall. Taking in a deep breath, I carefully lifted Cooper's t-shirt to reveal the top of the diaper, shooting Stella a dirty glare when I heard her giggle. Deciding I would approach the situation like ripping off a bandage – that is to say, I wanted it to be over as fast as possible – I ripped off the side tabs and lowered the front, cringing at the mess below. Holding my breath, I quickly grabbed a handful of baby wipes from a nearby container, wiped down Cooper's bum, doused him with baby powder, and switched out his diaper as fast as possible.
I finally let out the breath in relief when the tabs of the clean diaper were securely fastened on top of his waist. Smiling triumphantly, I turned to look at Stella, who was staring at me, wide eyed.
"Damn, Kingsley," she commented. "You're good."
"You don't have to sound so surprised," I laughed, inwardly grateful that she couldn't tell that I actually had no idea what I was doing. To be honest, the entire time, I was racking my brain in hopes that I'd remember watching Eric change a diaper and then I'd just kind of made up the rest. In fact, I was pretty sure the diaper was actually on backwards.
But Stella didn't need to know that. She had enough ammunition against me without finding out that my diaper changing skills were subpar.
She shrugged. "I suppose you had to be good at something besides chopping things."
I rolled my eyes, lifting Cooper from the table and placing him in the play pen in the center of the room. He plopped happily to the floor and began to stack brightly colored blocks atop each other.
"Are you afraid you'll spontaneously combust if you give me a sincere compliment?" I asked, turning back to face her.
"Maybe," she deadpanned. "Better not risk it."
Despite her stubbornness, I found myself holding back laughter, so I quickly busied myself with studying the nursery. The walls were painted a pale green, decorated with various doodles of jungle creatures, which actually looked rather creepy, if I was being honest.
"I never realized how gigantic this house is," I commented, bringing my gaze back to Stella.
She seemed surprised by the sudden change in subject, tugging on the end of her ponytail while simultaneously pulling down the front of her cap to cover her raised eyebrows. "I know. The upkeep is going to be a pain in the ass."
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I pursed my lips, staring at her intently. She wanted to say something else, I could tell. Stella's face was extremely expressive. She showed her emotions quite freely, a trait I supposed made her an extremely good model.
I remained quiet to allow her to speak and when she finally realized I wasn't going to say anything, she sighed, wincing slightly as she continued. "I can't afford this place, Tyson. Not on what I make."
"Neither can I," I responded in realization. The whole money aspect of the situation hadn't really occurred to me. Granted, it had been less than twenty-four hours since I'd become the guardian of a toddler and the caretaker of a rather large house. That being said, my salary as an assistant chef at a restaurant wasn't nearly enough to cover half the expenses on this place.
"So we're going to have to sell this house," she said softly, lowering herself to the edge of the rocking chair in the corner.
The thought made me sick. I remembered how much Georgia and Eric had adored this house, how they'd pictured Cooper growing up here.
But Stella was right. If neither of us had the means to pay for the bills and taxes on the property, it wasn't rational of us to keep it. Perhaps, later down the line, when we're both a bit more settled, we could revisit the idea of living in a house like this.
"It doesn't really seem like we have a choice, does it?" I sighed, glancing towards Cooper, who was blissfully rolling a large model car back and forth on the carpeted ground. "I just know how much they wanted him to grow up in this house."
"Yeah," her voice was so quiet that I almost couldn't hear her speaking. "But nothing really turned out how they planned."
"I guess not."
There was a moment of silence as we both stared at Cooper, thinking that perhaps the world was a better place when we were blissfully unaware of all the terrible things that could happen.
"So we sell the house," she finally spoke. "And we buy an apartment, maybe? In the city would actually be better for me and I'm guessing be close to your work would be more convenient for you as well."
I nodded, plopping down on the floor in front of her, bringing my knees to my chest. "Definitely." I paused, tilting my head to the side as I looked at her. "You do realize that this means we'll have to live together, right?"
She groaned, scrunching her nose in disgust before sighing and nodding reluctantly. "I guess we'll have to make it work. We'll be like roommates."
The thought of living with Stella was hard to comprehend. Our relationship was so volatile as it was that putting us in close quarters for an extended period of time seemed like a horrible idea. But this was also one of those greater good situations, so I nodded in response. "Does that mean you'll put a sock on the door if you have male visitors?"
She rolled her eyes. "Because guys will be knocking down my door once they find out I have a child."
"There's probably someone out there who would be interested," I shrugged. She seemed surprised by my positivity, so I immediately racked my brain for a way in which to steer the conversation towards our normal, sparring dynamic. "There's millions of people in New York. I'm sure there is at least one guy out there who doesn't think you're completely awful."
Again, eyes were rolled. "Way to ruin what could have been a nice moment, Kingsley."
I grinned innocently. "My pleasure."
"Unbelievable," she scoffed, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "So what are going to do about Cooper? It doesn't seem like either of us have the money to hire any sort of nanny, so someone has to look after him which we're working."
Pursing my lips, I pondered the question, formulating a strategy in my mind. "Well, how rigid is your schedule?"
To be honest, I had no idea how Stella's job worked. In my mind, I saw her going to some sort of studio and being dolled up and changing outfits a couple times as she posed for pictures for eight hours a day, but I highly doubted that was the reality.
"It varies," she said vaguely. "It's not like I have work every day, but there will be shoots that last a few days, sometimes at odd hours and if I get asked to do runway shows or fashion week, well that's a whole other story."
I let out a low breath. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I can look after him during the days, seeing as my shifts at the restaurant are mostly at night as it is."
"Alright," she nodded in agreement. "That seems like a reasonable solution."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise at how easily she'd conceded. "What is this? A compromise? Has hell frozen over?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Kingsley," she replied, imitating my accent – very badly, I might add.
Shaking my head, I laughed and pushed myself to my feet. "Well, I'm going to get a shower and then I can make us some lunch, if you like."
"Wow, I should agree with you more often," she said, her expression contorted into a look of mock shock. "It makes you decent."
"Yeah, Stella," I retorted. "If you're nice to people, they're nice in return. Isn't that magical?"
She laughed, her eyes crinkling as she tilted her head backwards. It was actually quite a beautiful sight and it took me a few moments to realize the reason for her laughter, which was, as usual, me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"You have baby crap on your face," she replied matter of factly.
Eyebrows raised in horror, I quickly rubbed my palms over every plane of my face, wondering if perhaps in my adventures with the diaper, I had somehow managed to get some unwanted material on myself. However, when I lifted my hands for inspection, I found them completely clean.
Frowning, I glared at Stella, who burst into a fit of giggles, doubling over in the chair and clutching her stomach.
"Very mature," I muttered, shoving my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants.
"Come on," she gasped slightly for air, "It was a little bit funny."
I rolled my eyes, but I soon found myself laughing as well, shaking my head in disbelief at the fact that I found this situation humorous in the slightest.
"You're never going to become less difficult, are you?" I asked.
"Where would be the fun in that?" she teased, her eyes sparkling beneath the bill of her cap.
Laughing, I turned towards the door and walked towards the guest shower. I supposed she was right. It was probably better that, in this period of time where we were trying to figure out what the hell we were doing, some things remained the same.