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“Well, you know, Claire went into labor two weeks early. That put a wrench in all the plans. I’d asked the crew to put together something to celebrate Claire and the baby. ‘Cause Claire deserves it. But the day of the party was the day her water broke.”
“Of course! Isn’t that how it always goes?”
“I know that’s right! So, after I helped Karen, Jessica, and Trish set up the decorations, I took my butt to work for a few hours, before the big event. Got to stock up a little extra money before I take off a few weeks to help Claire with the baby. I was halfway through my short shift when I got a call. And there’s Jessica Jones on the phone, screaming, cussing me out for no darn reason, telling me to meet Claire and the crew at the hospital. Every single one of our party guests was at the hospital. Most of them were sweating bullets, too! Claire was mortified.”
“I get where she’s coming from. That’s a delicate time in a woman’s life! So I’ve been told. I have zero personal experience to draw from. Not a maternal bone in my body, unfortunately.”
“So I’m rushing to the hospital. Everybody but Colleen got kicked out by the nurse—Colleen can handle blood and babies, you know? She was a big help, running to get the nurses any time we needed them. By this time, Claire’s in warrior mode. She had this focus that was unbelievable. She breathed through the pain. It felt like she nearly broke my hand a few times. I have never seen anyone as strong as this woman in labor. I was hanging on all through that crazy roller coaster ride. I figured I better just shut up and let Clair do her thing. And then, a few hours later, they put Danni in my arms.”
“I bet that was almost like a fever dream, huh? That moment?”
“It was the realest moment of my life. Danika Cage, born at two o’clock in the morning. Six pounds, ten ounces. Beautiful brown eyes. Full head of hair. She screamed so loud, I just knew they heard her across the hall in the special care unit.”
This entire story is relayed to Jen Walters from the rosy-hued outlook of a new parent. Luke practically glows as he tells her about Claire, the baby, and the last fourteen days. Behind him, Claire squeezes his torso as she rolls her eyes. “Come on, Luke. Jen doesn’t want to hear all the gory details. Only we care about that stuff.”
Jen laughs and sips her punch. “Well, I don’t need to know anything about placentas and what you chose to do with yours. Oher than that, I’m all ears.”
“I’m a nurse, but I’m not a hippie nurse,” Claire says. “I incinerated my placenta, as God intended.”
“So true. That’s why they even look like trash bags. Built for the furnace.”
“I was not talking about placentas,” Luke assures his partner, squeezing her back. “Just how badass you are.” A shrill cry rings out from the bedroom. “Ah, there’s our little queen, making her presence known!” The cry gets higher pitched, and Luke stands. “Yes, Your Highness! We’re coming!”
Jen can’t help but smile as the happy couple share a quick little kiss then go to pick up their freshly woken baby from her crib. Luke and Claire are formidable alone, but together they take the term ‘power couple’ to another level. She’s glad she happens to be in town for their hastily-arranged, after-delivery baby shower. She’s in Manhattan to see a high-paying client who needs help with a defense case involving documents taken from Oscorp many years ago. She made sure to cram all her billable hours into the morning and early afternoon so she could make it to the party on time.
She hasn’t known any of Matt’s oddball friends for long, but they’ve become her friends with disturbing speed. Starting months ago, with a schnockered Foggy Nelson calling her at one in the morning, yelling at her to ‘come get her man’. To this day, she doesn’t know how Foggy found her number or why his first impulse was to call Matt’s one hit wonder from the West Coast. At this point, though, it truly is water under the bridge; when he’d called, she had really needed someone friendly to talk to. She had kept him on the phone for a delightfully incoherent conversation, laughing at his muddled witticisms until Foggy’s girlfriend Marci had grabbed the phone and apologized profusely on his behalf.
Marci is also a kick-butt lawyer. Jen had drinks with her the first time she found herself in New York City for a case. The two women have a lot in common, but their personalities are so different it keeps the friendship interesting. As Jen takes another swig of warm fruit punch, she sees Marci wink at her from the other side of the room. As Jen winks back, she sees Marci surreptitiously smear a bit of pink cake icing right near the top edge of her blouse. “Ah, darn,” Marci says, with convincing annoyance.
Foggy turns to her and says, “Marci, how did you even do that? Did you suddenly lose all hand-eye coordination in the last five minutes?”
“I need to borrow your handkerchief,” Marci says. She grabs Foggy by his shirt lapel and drags him into the bathroom. The door locks behind them. Luke discreetly turns the music up on the record player.
“Subtle,” Claire snorts.
“Marci’s a lot of things,” Matt says, from his place by the window. “Subtle isn’t one of them.”
“Did that seriously just happen?” Jen asks them both.
“It’s cute,” Matt says.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Claire says. “But I do get it. It’s baby fever. Marci’s not herself, right now.”
Karen jerks her head up from her phone like someone shocked her with a cattle prod. “It’s what, now?”
“Baby fever,” Claire says. “You know. Baby fever?” When she gets nothing but blank stares from the other women, she sighs. “Okay. Just watch.” She takes Baby Danika from Luke, patting her lightly on the butt to get her settled. “Hey, Matt?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to hold her?”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course, it is. I wouldn’t offer otherwise. You’ll be the first other than me and Luke to do the honors.”
Matt’s face lights up like a Macy’s storefront Christmas display. “I would love to!” As he holds out his hands with the air of a man receiving a holy relic, Jen feels something inside her…twinge. She desperately hopes it’s indigestion from all the cake and punch.
Claire passes Danika into Matt’s hands. His fingers could wrap all the way around the newborn’s body. He uses their tips to gently surf over her tiny nose, her chubby cheeks, and her head full of thick, black hair. “Ooh.” Matt is cooing. Matthew freakin’ Murdock is cooing like a little snow-white dove and Jen simultaneously wants to throw herself out the window and rub herself all over him. “Hi, little lady,” Matt says, in the sweetest voice to ever come out of his mouth. Danika hiccups. “You’re just so tiny. I bet you’re cute, too, huh?”
Jen almost melts into a puddle of green goo on the couch. “Oh, my god,” she manages to say.
The other women in the room are staring at Matt like he’s a steaming hot slice of Daredevil pie. The afternoon light seems to shine down at just the right angle, giving Matt a literal halo. The pastel decorations strewn around the walls soften the scene even further. Little Danika wrinkles her nose and makes the smallest noise of discontent. Matt brings her close and strokes her hair like she’s made of gossamer.
“Oh, just turn her on her belly,” Claire says. “That’ll make her happy.”
Matt carefully rolls the baby to her stomach, lining her tiny body up with his forearm. His other hand pats her back, so lightly it barely makes a sound against her onesie. Danika squeaks with happiness and smashes her face against his skin.
“Ohhh, my god,” Jen says, once more with feeling.
“Yo,” Colleen says, looking dumbstruck, a piece of cake falling from her fork as she drops it.
“I told you. Baby fever,” Claire says.
“Uh-huh,” Colleen says.
“Uh-huh,” Karen says.
“Uh-huh”, Jessica says. The other women turn their gazes to her in disbelief. She frowns. “I have eyes, okay. And ovaries, even if I’m never going to use them.”
“Use them,” Jen repeats, stupidly. She mindlessly shoves another bite of cake into her mouth. “Ovaries. Baby mamas. We could be. Them?”
“Snap out of it, ladies,” Trish says commandingly, with an accompanying crisp snap of her fingers. “Hormones are chains. We should prove Fleetwood Mac wrong and break free of them.”
“Well, if horniness is wrong, I don’t want to be right,” Claire says.
“Clearly,” Trish says. “And with your loving and supportive partner, I fully understand your horny life choices.”
“Hey.” Colleen nods at Matt where he still holds Danika. He’s gone back to cooing while patting her so gently. Jen wants to impale herself on that sound. No, wait—
Colleen is still talking. “Matt is Catholic, right? Isn’t being loving and supportive to a fertile baby mama kind of written into his faith contract?”
Matt looks up from the baby. “Um—"
“There are no legally binding oaths for being a good baby daddy,” Trish says.
“Uh, yeah there are,” Jessica says.
“Paternity tests and mandatory child support,” Jen says, on autopilot. “And custody rights.”
Jessica nods. “And if all else fails, marriage at the altar in front of God himself. That’ll lock in a good Catholic boy nice and tight.”
“Uh,” Matt says.
“It is cuffing season,” Claire says.
“What the hell are you ladies talking about?” Luke asks, utterly bewildered. He walks slowly from the kitchen like a man approaching a wild boar, a mug of hot punch in his hand. “And…what are you doing?”
Now that he’s said it, Jen realizes the five of them have hemmed Matt in. He’s up against the tv console and they’ve made a loose semi-circle around him. It’s all very casual, and yet it’s very obvious. They’re all, to a woman, intimidating beings.
“You don’t want to know,” Matt says, a bit hysterically. It occurs to Jen that he can hear everything going down in the entire apartment, including the heartbeats and respiratory rates of women blindsided by biology. Now that she’s paying attention, she can see the fine blush that’s spread from his face to his neck. He’s all but clutching the baby in front of him as if that will ward off the raging feminine beasts. A voice like David Attenborough’s echoes through Jen’s head: ‘But the females have separated this male from his peers in the herd. He is quite on his own. And it IS cuffing season.’
Foggy stumbles back into the room, wiping what looks suspiciously like lipstick off his mouth. He sighs dreamily, staring into space. Then he double takes at the scene in the living room. “Hey! What have you done to Matt?”
“I am trying to hold this precious little baby in peace,” Matt says, “and they are ruining it.”
“We haven’t ruined shit, Murdock,” Jessica says, as she hastily steps back. “Just shut up and cuddle the baby.”
Trish tuts disapprovingly. “Jess! Not in front of Danika!”
“Oh, for—She’s two weeks old! She doesn’t know what I’m saying!”
Danny chooses that exact moment to enter the apartment, three bulging, baby-themed bags hanging on his arms. “Hey, everyone! I’m sorry I’m so late! That shareholder summit went on way longer than I thought it would!” He stops and beholds the sight that had so shaken all the women. “Awww,” he says, with a grin. “Look at little Danni, all smushy-faced and sleeping on Matt’s arm.”
“Oh, we are,” Jen says. And is she ever. Although she already had plans to invite Matt back to her hotel room for the night, those plans have been solidified like concrete after this.
Danny sets the bags with the other presents by the couch. “Hey, Matt, when you’re done, can I hold her?”
All the partygoers shout it at once: “NO!”