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It’s pretty convenient that they ask her dad to cat-sit Barry, given that Sydney’s discharge date is a day later than they expect. Apparently the hospital had the room, and neither of them were inclined to complain or question it. Plus, it was nice to be surrounded by immediate medical help if only for one more night.
Emmanuel heads over to pick them up, holding baby Dorothy in his arms for a solid 20 minutes as if he hadn’t done the exact same thing the day before. Sydney was thankful for the opportunity to get some sleep peacefully without Dottie’s cries, even tightly tucked in the hospital bed with Carmy drooling on her shoulder. It was really nice.
When they get home her dad immediately volunteers to whip up some coffee for them, and Syd still requests decaf. She found that she didn’t really miss caffeine and she doesn’t want to pass anything onto Dottie anyways, shit’s for the best.
Carmy gently removes Dot from her carrier when her face scrunches up into a silent cry, and he leans in for a small sniff. “Oh geez. Someone made a little mess, didn’t she?”
Fuck Syd’s still so hormonal, that’s the cutest sentence she’s heard anyone say all day. She’s wiping a tear from her eye but not before her dad catches her.
“I saw that, sweetie.”
Sydney gives him a deadpan look. “Oh, hush. It’s the baby. She makes me all… I don’t know.”
Emmanuel nods, smiles as they look into the doorway where Carmy is changing the baby’s diaper. “Oh I know. There’s really nothing like it. Like this.”
He gives her a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Go. Be with your family. I’m gonna whip up some chicken soup for everyone, extra veggies.”
Sydney chuckles and walks further into the nursery, a little shocked at how quiet it is. When she’s behind Carmy she sees Dottie asleep on the changing table, little tummy rising and falling softly.
Carmy whispers. “I got her onesie on and then as soon as I zipped it up she just… knocked the fuck out,”
“Huh. You think she’s a lucky baby?”
“You know I don’t know what that is.”
She rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “A baby that cries but not too much, always smiles, laughs, doesn’t keep us up all night not that it matters because I’ll be checking up on her every hour on the hour until she’s at least five out of pure fear? Yeah, that kind of baby.”
Carmy’s blue eyes are pretty wide. “We’re gonna have to talk about that last part but, I honestly don’t know, she was pretty fussy at the hospital.”
She shrugs anyway. “We can take bets. I could use the money.”
“We share bank accounts, Syd.”
“I only take cash for bets, chump.” She gives him a kiss on his cheek as he places Dot into her crib, takes a seat on the rocking chair in the corner. Bartholomew strolls in then, takes a minute to stretch dramatically and meow like he always does after a nap.
“There’s my boy. Your best friend’s waiting for you buddy. It’s a little rude to be late but I’ll forgive you.”
That makes Carmy laugh, a little loud for a sleeping baby so he smothers it under his hand. “‘Best friend’? Did I miss something?”
“Uh, yeah you did actually. They’ve already got a blood oath going, the whole show. I was there.” She picks Barry up and places him on her lap, lets him get comfortable and speaks again.
“He’ll like her right? Or she’ll like him? I don’t know which one I should be more worried about.” Sydney’s almost not sure why she’s worried at all. It’s probably not on top of new parents' concern lists, if their baby will get along with the cat, but it’s not like she doesn’t want that.
Carmy reaches a hand into the crib to rub gently at Dottie’s belly, turning toward her and tilting his head back and forth. “It might not be instant but, they’ll be inseparable.”
Sydney melts. “Yeah?” Of course he gets it.
He nods just as Emmanuel pops his head back in to let them know the soup is ready.
Dorothy is indeed, not a lucky baby.
He flips his phone over to see the time read 3:06 when he hears Dottie crying from the next room echoed with the baby monitor. Carmy turns his head to let Sydney know that he’s got it and isn’t surprised to see she’s not there. He gets up and heads to the nursery to see his wife cradling their wailing baby. He’s not sure he’d be able to count on two hands alone how many times this has happened.
“Hey, we said we were gonna take turns so you can get some sleep,”
Dottie’s wailing almost drowns out her voice. “I know. I know but I was already awake so I made my way in here. It’s fine.”
He knows it’s not. Carmy’s biggest concern was that Sydney was actually serious about checking up on Dot every hour on the hour, and he was determined to stop that in its tracks. “Baby, go to sleep. I got it.” He rubs a fist over his heart, a plea to tell him what’s wrong a little later.
She hands him Dottie and shuffles back to their bedroom, allowing Carmy to take a breath despite the screaming in his ear. Sydney’s still awake when he gets back into bed after calming Dottie down, immediately sidling up to him and wrapping her arm around his waist, head tucked into his shoulder.
Sydney starts to sniffle and he feels a small damp spot form on the collar of his shirt, breaking his heart. “I’m fucking terrible at this,” Carmy cradles her face with one hand, rubs up and down her back with the other. “Sydney, that’s—"
She sobs between her rebuttal. “You don’t have to. Tell me I’m wrong. I know,” a hiccup, “I know she hates me.”
“I’m still gonna tell you you’re wrong because you are. You’ve been a fucking superhero the past year, and I honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to be terrible at anything,” This gets a laugh out of Syd, wet and broken but still beautiful.
“But I feel like there’s something else. Something um. Something you’re not telling me. Will you?” There’s another sniffle and a sigh, and he feels her lips connect to the underside of his jaw.
“I will, I promise.”
He tells her she can cry if she wants to, so she does. Not every night, but most nights, and when she does Carmy simply holds her close and whispers reassurances into her ear. Sometimes he cries with her.
“Up up up… good! And we’re gonna take our little legs and go back down. You’d totally ace baby yoga, my love. I’ll sign you up.” Sydney coos.
Dorothy giggles, followed quickly by a gurgle and spit up. Carmy grabs a hand towel and wipes at her mouth. He’s fucking relieved Dottie’s stopped crying, Sydney insisting it was just because she was gassy, made apparent by the parade of little toots.
“How d’you know to do that?”
Sydney picks Dottie up and walks over to the couch. “My dad taught me. Said it was the only thing that got me to calm down.” Bartholomew hops up on the couch right with them, sniffing lightly at Dottie’s little toes. Carmy and Sydney are both silent. For the past couple of months the two really hadn’t been aware of the other’s existence, Barry not taking much of an interest in the new family member.
Dot gurgles again, coos lightly before grabbing at Barry’s tail. Bartholomew lets out a loud yowl and hisses at Dottie which causes the baby to start crying again. Carmy and Sydney sound off at the same time.
“Bartholomew! That’s not nice!”
“Dorothy, we don’t grab tails!”
They give each other a look. Sydney speaks. “Shi…oot. Who’s wrong?” Carmy just shrugs.
“Don’t know. Let’s just switch. Reprimand them both.” Sydney nods and they do. It’s a little ridiculous but Carmy manages not to laugh.
This interaction colors the relationship between the two for a while.
Natalie’s at their apartment when Dottie says her first word. “You are just the cutest little thing ever! Beautiful brown eyes and those little cheeks! You could use a sister right? I’ll take you home no one has to know. Syd can visit if she wants. I don't care about Carm.” Dottie is sitting on Nat’s lap making grabby hands at her hair and earrings, Natalie not caring one bit.
“Why are you going crazy over her like you didn’t see her last week?” Carmy speaks as he gently shakes up a warm baby bottle.
Sydney scoffs from her spot at the dining table making up notes on Carmy’s illustrations for their spring chaos menu. “Carmen, really? You took what thirty pictures of her last night and she wasn’t doing anything.”
“Okay you got those fu-freakin’ clips for her hair and she was smiling all wide. That’s not on me.”
Sugar chuckles, keeps bouncing the baby on her lap. “Your dad’s a loser. Can you say that? Can you say ‘daddy’s a loser’?”
Bartholomew walks into the living room and meows loudly after his nap like he always does, hungry and demanding.
Dottie claps her pudgy little hands together and points at him. “Bally! Bally!”
“Holy shit. What did she just say?” Sydney slams the sketchbook down onto the table.
Carmy’s only capable of forming a half coherent sentence. “She said it she said something she-she said—"
“Your cat’s name. Your daughter’s first word was your cat’s name.”
Carm and Syd only rush over to her, the former practically in tears.
“Mommy can-can I take Mister Mew to walk?”
Sydney chuckles from her spot on the couch next to Dottie. The three year old’s been obsessed with watching old episodes of Max and Ruby in the living room since they made their move to Wicker Park, and Syd’s had no issue cuddling her daughter until she falls asleep to talking rabbits.
“You wanna walk Barry, baby?”
The girl nods vigorously and it makes Sydney a little sad. It’s been basically impossible to say no to their daughter, especially when it comes to the cat. Dottie adores Bartholomew, the cat… not so much.
“Um. He stays inside, sweetie. I don’t know if Barry’s— I mean Mister Mew— has ever been outside.” Sydney tried to use Dottie’s favorite nickname for the cat as often as she could, trusting that when she gets older she’ll get used to just saying Bartholomew. Probably.
“Oh.”
Shit. She’s making that face like she wants to cry but is trying to hold it in and Sydney can’t stand it. “Hey, how about this. We can have a tea party! That’s fun right?”
“Party?” Dottie’s big brown eyes start to light up.
“Yeah, yeah we can decorate and use that set grandpa got you for your birthday and dress up. How does that sound?”
“Mister Mew dress up too?”
“Uh. Sure! Whatever you want, my love.”
Sydney looks over to Barry sleeping in his cat tree and sighs. He doesn’t particularly mind being dressed up, a solid trooper for the last few Halloweens, but where the shit is she supposed to find a cat suit?
Dottie starts to giggle and that’s how Syd knows she’s in the clear, at least for now.
Carmy comes home right before Dot’s nap, gives the girl time to greet her father with a big hug and kiss like she always does.
He picks the girl up and places her on his hip, tickling her belly to get her to laugh like he always does. “How’s my lovebug?”
Still giggling, Dottie is about to give an answer when she yawns all cute and squeaky.
“Someone’s tired,” Sydney says, standing up to approach them both.
“I’ll put her down.” Carm says, giving Syd a quick kiss before walking Dottie into her bedroom.
When he gets back out Sydney’s scrolling on her phone looking for where she can get Barry a suit or at the very least a little bow tie.
Carmy plops down on the couch next to her and kisses her temple. “Y’look stressed,”
“Our daughter wanted to walk the cat.”
He laughs, his annoyingly cute dimple poking out as he sits even closer and wraps his arm around the head of the couch behind her. “What’d she do when you said no?”
Syd shrugs. “Oh y’know, not much. Just pouted and stuff so I um. I said that we could have a tea party with him instead.”
“A tea party? Like—?”
“Like suits and dresses and a tea set, Carmen a fucking tea party.”
Her eyes are already apologizing before it comes out of her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard to say no to her. You should have seen the way she looked at me.”
“It’s fine, Syd. She wants a tea party then we’ll go all out I’ll um. I’ll get one of those fancy little tables and I’ll bust out my penguin tux from the back of the closet—"
“I already told you that suit doesn’t make you look like a penguin—"
“It does, Syd. Finger sandwiches right? Those are at tea parties? We can make those up and like sponge cakes and cookies and shit. Yeah. This’ll be good.”
Sydney’s just looking at him, eyes boring into his blue ones until his eyebrows start to scrunch together in concern.
She can’t verbalize this, too stubborn to. But it’s like that moment. The one she feels as a small burst every day but sometimes. Sometimes it’s more than a burst. Sometimes it’s an entire fucking explosion.
Sydney’s still falling in love with this man and it’s embarrassing.
All she does is lean forward and press a kiss to his mouth, sweet and secure. “I’ll wear my dress I bought for that dumb gala in Pittsburgh.”
“Leave me alone Bartholomew! Dad!” Dorothy screeches, stomping out of her room.
“Woah, ‘Bartholomew’? What’s going on?” Carmy asks his daughter, whose eyes are fierce with the same reddish brown as her mother.
“Mister Me- Bartholomew, chewed all over the diorama of the solar system I was working on! He slobbered all over Venus.” The eleven year old pouts.
Barry strides in then, at Dottie’s ankle.
Carmy softens, knowing how much his daughter loves this cat with every fiber of her being. “Baby, I’m sure he didn’t mean to. And look, he's sorry.”
She momentarily uncrosses her arms, makes a little show of crossing them all over again with a huff. Carmy thinks it’s adorable but knows saying it out loud will make Dot even angrier.
He instead looks down at Barry, tail swishing and his one big blue eye looking back and forth between the two of them. “Bartholomew ‘Mr. Mew’—"
“Bartholomew Charles.” Dottie corrects innocently, eyes still closed, arms still crossed and head turned upward.
Carmy smiles. “Right. Bartholomew Charles ‘Mr. Mew’ Adamu-Berzatto. Say you’re sorry, buddy.”
Barry meows twice, prompting Dottie to look down. In an instant his daughter scoops the cat up into her arms. “Are you sorry Mr. Mew?”
He meows again and Dottie laughs, kissing him all over his small face. “Okaaaay. I forgive you.” She hugs him, whisking him away back to her room, his favorite place to be for a number of years Carmen can’t count.
Sydney gets home then, having had a meeting with a tricky cherry tomato vendor. Carmy raises up off the couch, not loving how sore his back is despite him only being in his fucking forties. He should probably stretch.
“Hey,” Sydney breathes, placing a gentle hand on his cheek for a welcome home kiss. “Where’s Dot?”
“Working on her project. Barry got into it.”
Sydney sighs. “Barry…”
“They had a spat, worked it out. I facilitated, no big deal,” Carm shrugs and sniffs, proud of himself.
“You did? Wow, look at you.” Sydney chuckles. “I knew you loved Barry.”
Carmy rolls his eyes and follows Sydney to knock on Dottie’s door. “I always loved him because you did, baby.”
She sighs dramatically. “My first born.”
Dorothy opens the door, lighting up when she sees her mom is back home. “Hi, Mommy,”
Sydney bends down to hug her, kissing her on her cheek a bunch. The sight warms Carmy’s heart.
“Hi, baby. I heard about…” Sydney looks around goofily, already getting Dottie to laugh. “The incident.”
Dorothy exhales cutely. “Yeah. It’s okay. I started making another Venus out of clay and I’m gonna mix some of my leftover scraps for paper mache. It’s gonna be better!”
Sydney takes Dottie by the shoulder firmly. “You are so gonna win that science fair, baby. Wanna help with dinner?”
“Ooo yes!”
Carmy stops them both. “Hold on. You said you wanted me to braid your hair tonight, Dottie. Braids then dinner, yeah?”
Sydney smiles at him, tying on her apron. “I’ll set up and do the boring stuff.”
She walks into the kitchen and Carmy sits Dottie down at the table in the kitchen nook so that they can both keep Sydney company. Dorothy’s hair is a beautiful dark brown she loves to style, curly and big around her ears and down to her shoulders.
Sometimes though she asks her mom to braid her hair to get it out of her way, and Carmy’s picked up a couple of things from watching. He’d say he’s pretty damn good at it now.
Barry meows and meows, so he lifts the cat up with a soft groan to place him into Dot’s lap. “Up you go.”
Carmy parts Dottie’s hair down the middle, and ties up one half. He takes the detangling brush and combs through carefully so he doesn’t pull.
“It’s almost Barry’s birthday.” Dottie announces confidently. Carmy’s eyes widen as he looks over at Sydney whose eyes are just as wide, and she shrugs. “Birthday?” He mouths.
“I know you guys forgot. He’s gonna be thirteen! This is big! What did you get him?” Dot asks. Carmy finishes off the first braid, nice and uniform, tying it at the end.
“Uh, food when he screams in my ear first thing in the morning?” He answers instinctually. Dottie looks right up at him just as he’s about to brush through the second section of her hair, shooting fiery daggers at him.
“Seriously, Dad. You should get him a present. So he knows you love him.”
“He knows I love him, Dottie.” Sydney says, peeling potatoes.
Dottie doesn’t say anything and Sydney scoffs. “He does, baby! That’s why I’m getting him something.”
“Me too,” Carmy says, tying up the second braid. As he does, Dorothy lifts Barry so he’s eye level with Carmen. “Since he doesn’t know I love him,” He presses a kiss to the cat’s forehead and Barry meows, slightly annoyed.
About four days later, the best Carmen could think of is a container of the Alaskan salmon Barry goes crazy over. That’s a good gift for a fuckin’ cat right?
“Okay.” Sydney walks into the living room while Dottie is at school. “I found the perfect gift. A new cat tree.”
“He has a cat tree.” Carmy rolls his eyes lightheartedly.
“A new tree. What’d you get?”
“Fish.” Carmen states simply.
It’s Syd’s turn to roll her eyes. “Creative.”
He smirks, pulling her face forward by her chin and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Effective.”
And of course, at Barry’s 13th Birthday Bash as Dorothy demanded it be deemed, he meowed and meowed over the salmon, almost completely ignoring the tree.
“I like the tree, Mama.” Dorothy says, giggling a little at Bartholomew’s clear favoritism.
His wife just sighs. “Thank you, baby.”
“I wish I could take him with me.” Dorothy murmurs, petting Barry atop his head. Sydney strokes her daughter’s hair.
“It’s only a month, sweetie. You’re gonna have so much fun you won’t even miss Barry.”
Dottie looks up at her, brown eyes big and adorable even at 16. “I’m gonna miss Mister Mew. He’s my little old man.”
Sydney smiles, scratching his little fuzzy chin. She thinks about the first time she met his little blue eyes. How curious he was, how he wanted to smell everything in their apartment. Even at 18 damn years old Bartholomew is still giving them hell, as curious, loud and picky as ever. And weirdly enough, healthier than ever.
“He will be here waiting for you, baby, I promise. UChicago is right there and Dad and I are gonna pick you up on the weekends.”
Carmy walks in, a streak of gray hair curling over his forehead in that way he says he hates but Sydney adores. “Hey, you two. You’re gonna be late, Bug. You ready?”
Dottie sighs, picking Barry up and cradling him. “I’m gonna miss you, bubba! I love you, I love you.” She kisses his fluffy face a couple of times before placing him back onto her bed where he curls up on the pile of clothes she left that smell like her.
Sydney smiles at her dad who’s waiting outside, ready to pack Dottie’s bags in the trunk.
“I got it, Dad.” Carmy chides him softly.
“I can help! These bones still do me good.”
Dottie walks over and gives her grandpa a big hug. Emmanuel squeezes her tight until Dorothy is joking about not being able to breathe. He tucks one of her butterfly locs behind her ear and kisses her forehead. “You’re gonna be great, baby. And I’ll pick you up for ice cream on the weekends.”
“Okay, good.” Dot smiles, relieved. “And you’re gonna keep Barry company right?”
Sydney sighs. “Baby, your dad and I aren’t gone that long during the day.”
“He gets lonely! Pop, please.” Dottie gives her grandfather her best puppy eyes and Emmanuel melts.
“Of course. My fellow oldie! I’ll be his TV watching buddy.”
Syd just chuckles. The last thing Emmanuel Adamu can ever do is say no to his granddaughter.
By the time they’re at drop off, Dorothy’s already exchanged goodbyes with Emmanuel with explicit instructions for Barry’s favorite snacks and pastimes.
“He really likes it when you scratch right behind his left ear. Oh and those salmon crispy bits! I think Mom has a fresh bag.”
Sydney’s dad just nods and promises he’ll keep her updated.
Carmy’s eyes are a little red and Sydney melts, cupping his face and bringing it toward hers to kiss his cheek. He smiles at her and leans in for a quick peck, one that allows them both to exhale.
Carmen takes Dottie by the shoulders. “You’ll call. Okay? You’ll call when you’re settled and comfortable and you’ll call twice a week, yeah?”
“Yes, Dad.” Dot sighs. “Don’t cry! It’s only a month.” She leans in for a hug and Carmy holds his daughter tight.
“You’re just growing up so fuckin’ fast. I love you.” Carmy blubbers. “Don’t use that language.”
“Smooth,” Sydney says, voice cracking herself. She pulls Dottie into a tight hug, pressing a bunch of noisy kisses to her forehead.
“Focus on all your tech stuff, okay? We got Mr. Mew. You’ll see him on Saturday. Eat real food, okay and drink your water.”
Dorothy smiles, adorable braces shining back at her mom. “I will, Mama. I promise. I have to go. I love you guys.”
She tumbles inside, letting one of the coordinators tell her where she can put her bags for pick up. Sydney leans against Carmen, resting her head against his as they see her off.
“Come on, baby.” Carmy whispers. “She’ll call.”
Dorothy does, about two hours later. Sydney and Carmen waste no time flipping the camera to Barry cuddled right between them in bed while they watch a movie.
Their daughter sighs. Sydney takes it as a win.