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Chris couldn’t help the feeling of worry, as he sat at his kitchen table, watching as his daughter sat wide-awake in her carrier. At six weeks old, Charlotte Anne was the apple of his eye and one of his greatest accomplishments in his fifty years of living. And today, the first time since bringing her back home from the hospital, he had her all to himself. That alone freaked him out, being alone with a six-week old newborn with no help.
Melanie had him up at the crack of dawn, as she carried Charlotte throughout the apartment; feeding her and singing lullabies, before setting her back down in the crib. Then she slipped into their bathroom, taking a shower and getting ready for the day, which confused him even more since she hardly left the apartment since they came home.
“Chris, you need to get up,” she said softly, while getting dressed. “I have a doctors appointment at eight and then I need to run up to the office to drop off some paperwork for my maternity leave.”
He ignored her of course, and not because he couldn’t stand to hear her. Between work and getting up to feed Charlotte or change her all throughout the day, he was exhausted; Always in a haze when it came to his turn at getting the bottle ready or changing the diaper, as Charlotte kicked her feet and gurgled at him from her changing table.
“CHRIS!”
He was up and glancing around the room with bleary eyes, as Melanie stood at the foot of their bed; the look of irritation and slight sympathy on her face, as she shook her head at him.
“Charlotte is up and in her carrier,” she informed him. “I put a pot of coffee on and you need to get your ass out of bed!”
There was a lot of grumbling and muttering as he stumbled out of their bedroom, wishing that his own mother were there to help out. All he needed was a few hours of sleep, because without it, how can he care for his own baby? Once Melanie left; after kissing Charlotte on the forehead and him on the lips; he was left alone in their apartment.
“Okay Charlie,” he sighed, sitting forward in his chair. “What should we do today? Do you want to watch some television with your old man? Or do you want to go back to sleep?”
Charlotte, innocent as ever, gave him a gummy smile- at least he thought it was a smile and not a sign that she’d taken a massive crap in her diaper- and wiggled in her chair. Chris couldn’t help but smile at her, as she laid there. It amazed him everyday that this was his daughter, his own flesh and blood. That along with Melanie, he took part in creating her and watching her grow within Melanie’s body; watching her belly extend and round out as the weeks went by and on the sonogram machine in the doctor’s office. Watching, as she made her way into the world right outside their door that stormy night, just six weeks previously.
“How about we check your diaper and I’ll tell you a story about how Mommy and Daddy met?” he suggested, though Charlotte had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “It’s a good story.”
She was surprisingly quiet, much to his relief. Between the two of them, Melanie was the best at getting her to quiet down after hours of crying. She had the better voice when it came to lullabies and the bond that babies make from within the womb gave her the advantage.
However, on that mid-November morning, Chris was so very grateful that his baby girl hasn’t made more that a squeak since Melanie left them alone. But that was until a loud crash from the living room, thanks to the two other babies that were feeling neglected, rang out through the apartment.
Before he could blink, the floodgates open and the shrill scream pierced his ears. Their so-called “quiet morning,” was over.
…………
It was ten-thirty and Charlotte was still crying. No. Screaming.
Chris had no idea what to do; carrying her throughout the apartment, trying to console Charlotte as she cried against his shoulder.
“Come on, Charlie,” he said, trying to suppress his groan. “The kitty didn’t mean to knock the lamp over.”
The glare he shot at Claude was deadly, as the cat lounged on the back of the couch; his green eyes squinting at him, making the six year old tuxedo, looking more murderous than ever.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to make yourself sick,” he said gently as he shifted to cradle her in his arms, which only made her cries shriller in the process. “You’re going to make Daddy go deaf and I wont be able to hear you when you finally talk.”
But Charlotte didn’t care because she couldn’t understand him at all, as her little face scrunched up, red and angry as she balled her fists up against her chest. It’s was an eerie mirror image of Leonard, had be been born a girl, and it’s freaked Chris out. It was clear that Charlotte has inherited the McCoy temper and the set of lungs; he was sure by now that their neighbors were close to filing complaints. It was bad enough that their neighbors across the hall had front row seats to her birth; and a great view up his wife’s vagina.
“Mommy should be home soon,” he said to the newborn, as he reached for his phone. “How about we call Uncle Leo? Maybe he can help Daddy figure out how to help you.”
Of course, it was Monday and only seven in the morning on the West coast. Which meant that Jim was still home, dead to the world, while Leonard dropped Jo off at school and ran errands to get coffee or went to work. Cursing as the call went to their answering machine, Chris tossed the phone down onto the counter and carried Charlotte back down the hall to her nursery.
……….
Chris had done everything in the book of getting a fussy baby to quiet down; reading stories, singing lullabies off-key, playing some blues and classic rock on the stereo, even giving Charlotte a bath in the sink with warm water. But nothing stopped her from crying. He checked her diaper at least a dozen times and heated up the bottle of breast milk for her, but Charlotte wouldn’t budge. It was almost lunchtime, and he began to panic.
“This cannot be good for you,” he said, as he settled her down onto the bed. “You’re starting to freak me out, Charlie.”
Charlotte kicked and batted her hands and feet, as she laid on her back; the mattress was cool from being vacant of two bodies since the early morning hours, as Chris sat down. Carefully picking her up, he settled against the pillows and cradled her against his chest.
“Please Charlie, please,” he begged, as she screeched. “I will do anything if you stop crying! Anything!”
To anyone else, this would’ve been comical. A grown man begging for his six-week old daughter to stop crying, by compromising. Charlotte had no idea what compromising even meant, let alone the fact that her screaming had left him on the edge of taking a butcher knife and stabbing himself in both ears.
“I’m going to kill that cat,’ he muttered, shifting her again so that she rested against his chest. “Send him away forever.”
Rubbing slow circles against her tiny back, which shuddered with each scream and hitching sob, Chris closed his eyes and tried to calm down. His was sure that his blood pressure was through the roof; the impending heart attack surely coming around the corner, when Charlotte’s cries began to die down.
It startled him at first, mistaking the odd sounds that escaped her little body, for that of someone who was dying. Craning his neck back, Chris looked down at her; her tiny little face scrunched up against his neck, as her cries begin to turn into what he assumed were whimpers.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked quietly, when she finally fell silent; a little coo or gurgle that escaping between her pouty lips. “You wanted to snuggle?”
Carefully, Chris ran his hand gently down the back of her head and pressed his nose against the tuffs of brunette curls. She was a mix of various smells; baby powder and Johnsons baby shampoo, with a twinge of breast milk and his own scent that’s radiated onto her, after hours of holding her.
“You are a troublemaker,” he huffed lightly, as she curled against his chest. “You should’ve told me, Charlie girl.”
Pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, Chris snuggled further against the pillows and held her in a gentle but firm hold against his chest.
……….
What felt like only seconds, turned out to be an hour, when Melanie lightly shook him awake.
“Honey?” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair and down the side of his face. “Honey, I’m home.”
The sound of her voice startled him, as his eyes snap open. For a moment, he forgot where he was, until it suddenly came back to him. Then he noticed the lack of nine pounds and eleven ounces on his chest, and he began to panic.
“It’s okay,” Melanie said, as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “I put her down in the crib a few minutes ago.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, nodding slowly. “What time is it?”
“Two-fifteen,” she winced. “I didn’t think it would take so long at the doctors and I didn’t get out of there til ten. Then I stopped at the office and went to pick up some groceries.”
Chris nodded, “You don’t have to explain, Mel,” he yawned. “Just glad that you’re home.”
Melanie smiled and pulled herself up and onto the bed, snuggling against his side. Chris wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, before setting a kiss on her forehead.
“How was she?” Melanie asked, wrapping one leg around his. “Did she give you a hard time?”
He sighed, “We had a rough morning,” he shrugged. “Claude knocked the lamp over and sent her into a fit; wouldn’t stop crying for hours and then I brought her in here and she stopped once I laid down with her.”
Melanie hummed, “I’m sorry for taking so long,” she said, shaking her head. She knew what it was like to deal with a screaming newborn with the lack of sleep. “I figured she’d be fine for a few hours.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he groaned, squeezing her against him. “Tell me how your visit went. Did Doctor Kaui deliver some good news?”
She snorted, “She gave me the all clear,” she confirmed. “But tonight you’re going to sleep.”
He groaned and tried to protest, until she placed a finger against his lips. “We have all the time in the world to have sex, Chris,” she promised. “But tonight, I want you to sleep. You look like hell.”
“So do you,” he retorted, only to nod in agreement. “Tonight we’ll sleep.”
Melanie then reached back and fiddled around with something on the nightstand, before rolling back over and settling against his chest. “I set the alarm for five,” she yawned. “That should give us enough time to nap before Charlie wakes for a bottle.”
“God, I love you,” he mumbled pressing his face into her hair. “I’ll love you even more if you feed her tonight.”
“You’re a class act, “ she snorted against his neck. “I’ll feed her tonight, don’t worry! Now lets try to get some rest before she wakes up earlier than expected.”
They struggled with the blankets, given the fact that the bed hadn’t been made since the night Charlotte was born; the sheets were a different story. Once the blankets and sheets were untangled and the couple snuggled under them, they both sighed in relief and exhaustion.
“Think you’ll want to watch her alone again?” Melanie asked, yawning.
Chris shifted and sighed, “Of course,” he nodded. “Now that I’ve figured out a way to calm her down, I’ll be more than glad to watch her.”
Melanie smiled against his shoulder, “Good,” she nodded.
There, in the mid-afternoon light, on that wintery day in November, silence fell across the apartment. In a few short hours, it would be lively again; a repeat of the last six weeks, before their stubborn and precious daughter came into the world. And for once, as Chris finally succumbed to exhaustion, he couldn’t wait to see what the next adventure would have to offer.