Child care is pretty much only for rich people, in my opinion. Honestly, I don’t see how anyone working a minimum-wage job can afford child care. They’d be working just to pay it, which makes no sense. But aside from that, Andrew and I both agreed that we don’t want to leave our daughter in the care of strangers, anyway. So, I worked it out with Janelle that I work only part-time shifts in the evenings when Andrew is home and every other weekend.
We’ve been living well and pulling everything off as though we’ve been doing it this way our whole lives. We may have six figures in savings, but we are no strangers to putting back as much as we can from our earnings and spending as little as possible. Other than our day jobs, Andrew and I have been playing gigs pretty consistently, every other Saturday night when I’m not working, at a bar that Blake’s brother Rob opened up in town. Something happened with the Underground and Rob had to shut it down. Rumor is that Rob narrowly avoided a jail sentence. I’m guessing it had to do with him not having a bar license, I don’t know. But Blake is manager of the new bar now, and on the nights that Andrew and I perform there we get half of the cover charge, which is more than we’ve ever made playing at any bar other than Aidan’s. Last Saturday, we raked in eight hundred bucks.
It’s just more cash flow for our savings and our future plans to go wherever that hat tells us to go.
And although Andrew will always put his heart and soul into every performance, like he always has, I can tell now that when we’re up on that stage together that he just can’t wait to be finished so we can pick Lily up from my mom, or whoever is lucky enough to have her for those few hours at night.
Andrew is so great with Lily. He never ceases to amaze me. He gets up in the middle of the night about as much as I do to change her diapers, and sometimes he even stays awake with me when I feed her. He has his guy moments, too, so he’s not entirely Mr. Perfect. Apparently, he’s not fully immune to crappy diapers, and just this morning I caught him gagging while trying to change her. I laughed, but I felt so bad for him that I couldn’t help but take over. He left the room with the neck of his shirt pulled over his mouth and nose.
And… well, I don’t really want to get too ahead of myself with the assumption, but I think Lily may have softened Andrew so much that he might actually like Natalie now. Maybe just a little. I don’t know, but whenever Nat is over, holding Lily and making Lily smile by talking to her with that animated personality of hers, Andrew seems OK with it. By the time Lily is three months old, I honestly can’t remember the last time Andrew called Natalie a hyena behind her back, or gave me that exasperated look when he knew she wasn’t looking.
He still cringes when she refers to herself as Lily’s godmother, but… baby steps. He’ll come around.
Andrew
39
February 9—Lily’s first birthday
“Aidan and Michelle are here!” I hear Camryn say from the living room.
I fasten the last button on the back of Lily’s dress and then take her by the hand. But she doesn’t like it when I hold her hand and always wiggles it away and grasps my index finger instead.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” I say looking down at her. “Uncle Aidan and Aunt Michelle are here to see the birthday girl.”
I swear she knows what I’m saying.
She squeezes my finger as tight as she can, giggles, and takes one big step forward, as if I’m not fast enough to keep up. With my back arched over, I take fast half steps as we shuffle down the hallway, letting her run on her chunky little baby legs out ahead of me. When she starts to fall as she rounds the corner, I grip her hand, lift her slightly off her feet, and let her get her balance again. She started walking at ten months old. Her first word was “Mama” at six months. At seven months she said “Dada,” and I melted when I heard her call me that the first time.
And Camryn was right—she’s got my green eyes.
“Lily!” Michelle says all dramatic-like, squatting down to Lily’s level and wrapping her up in her wide arms. “Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She kisses her cheeks and her forehead and her nose, and Lily cackles uncontrollably. “Nom nom nom!” Michelle adds, pretending to eat her cheeks.
I look over at Aidan, who has my nephew, Avery, attached to his hip. I reach out for him, but he’s shy and recoils toward Aidan’s chest. I back off, hoping he doesn’t start crying. Aidan tries to coax him.
“Is he walking yet?” Camryn asks, standing next to me.
Michelle follows Lily into the living room where a plethora of pink and purple helium balloons are pressed against the ceiling. When Lily realizes she can’t reach the balloons, she gives up and goes straight over to her stack of presents on the floor.
Aidan hands two wrapped gifts to Camryn, and we all join Michelle and Lily in the living room. Camryn sets the gifts next to the others.
“He’s been trying,” Aidan answers about Avery’s walking progress. “He holds on to the couch and walks alongside it, but he hasn’t quite got the urge to let go yet.”
“God, he looks just like you, bro,” I say. “Poor kid.”
Aidan would punch me in the gut if his arms were free.
“He’s adorable,” Camryn says as she reaches out to take him.