“I fail to see what is funny about this,” I said. My eyes pricked hot with tears. “My parents have been gone less than five minutes, and she’s already thrown up all over me, blown out her diaper, and refuses to eat.”
Chance set down the screwdriver in his hand. “Here, I’ll take her for a second.” But as he reached for me, his phone buzzed.
“Maybe it’s your mom? Coming back?” I asked hopefully. Chance’s mother had only been down for two days after Phoenix arrived before having to get back to Tennessee for some big church event she was chairing. She promised to come back and help as soon as it was over.
“Actually, it’s the producer on the album,” Chance said. “And not his assistant. His direct line. I have to take this, babe.” He held up one finger. “I’ll be right back. I just have to get away from the noise for two secs.”
He dashed out the front door.
Oh. My. God.
I clutched the screaming baby to my chest, soggy with every possible bodily excretion. I’d been abandoned by everyone.
And she was only one week old.
Chapter 8: Corabelle
The entire kitchen table was covered in pink glitter.
I swiped at my eyes, trying to pull myself together. Jenny’s wedding had been converted into a shower for the baby, so I had been given the task of changing all the hanging silver sparkle stars to — what did Jenny call the color? Oh, right. Blushing primrose.
I had to mix six shades of pink and pearl glitter to get the color just right. Which was sort of pointless, as once I put it on top of the old silver color, it shifted and changed depending on the light and how well it stuck.
Jenny texted another picture of the baby every seven seconds, and I was contemplating blocking her. Except I was in charge of this party and she was my best friend.
My utterly clueless, totally self-absorbed, completely maddening best friend.
I scattered another handful of glitter mix across one of the largest stars. I had a bad feeling that my house and car were never going to recover from this infestation of sparkle. I had already caught Gavin tramping through it twice, leaving primrose footprints across the dining room.
I had spread two old sheets on the floor, but I would swear this glitter could fly. It was everywhere.
A fat tear fell squarely on the uppermost point of the star. The drop pushed the color aside, leaving a wet silver circle. Great. I dusted my hands and decided to walk away until I could pull myself together.
This wasn’t Jenny’s fault. She was as obsessive about baby Phoenix as she had been about her job, and her previous lineup of boy toys, and a dozen other things in the time I had known her. I almost longed for the days when we worked at Cool Beans Coffee Shop and she drove me crazy flirting with anybody who glanced her way.
That was so much easier than this.
Another text buzzed through.
Mom and Dad gone! Chance just left too! Baby crying! Please come help!
I paused, swiping at my eye and feeling the grit of pink glitter on my cheek. Great. First I’m expected to head up her shower. Now I have to help with the baby too?
I tossed my phone on the sofa and plunked down on the floor. There was no doubt about it, I was not handling this well.
I lay back on the carpet and stared at the ceiling. Coats of paint failed to completely conceal the water stains from a previous upstairs tenant’s bathtub overflow. Parts of the popcorn ceiling were flat from the damage.
Gavin and I could not seem to get ahead on bills. Despite all the work hours he was putting in and reducing his college load, we were still struggling. My TA position covered only tuition and fees for grad school. With Gavin’s young son, Manuelito, around, I wasn’t able to put in any time at Cool Beans, although I might be able to get some hours since he was gone with his mother to Mexico.
I felt so tired. Working at the coffee shop didn’t appeal to me. I felt completely out of touch with all those undergrads and their whining about grades and parents and dating. I couldn’t relate to them anymore, and I found myself wanting to shake them and say, “Talk to me when you have REAL problems!”
The phone buzzed again on the sofa, this time a call. Jenny, most likely. I didn’t move. I had papers to grade. Stars to glitter. And only a few hours until I had to head up to campus for a long day.
She was on her own. I loved Jenny, but she had to grow up. Nothing like a baby to make it happen.
I shifted so I could see the framed pictures of Finn. When I moved in with Gavin to a larger apartment, I hung the collage in our living room. There were only a few images. I didn’t take a lot in those seven days my baby had lived, since he always looked the same, his eyes covered with a little mask and his mouth taped to a breathing tube. There hadn’t been much to see. Nothing ever changed but the time and date on the monitor.