“And you have Livy at your side, doing it all with you. You didn’t have to figure this shit out yourself.” I’ve never been so angry that I live alone as I am right now. “Can you believe there’s no test I need to take in order to keep a baby? You can’t drive a car without passing a driver’s test, but they just trust you to know how to keep another human alive? To go to college, you have to take the fucking SATs, but here, take this baby. Figure it out. What the fuck?”
Beckett wears a lazy smirk. “I seem to remember a certain someone betting I wouldn’t make it a weekend in the brownstone with Livy.”
“You weren’t left to care for an infant by yourself. You were living with four women who all had parenting experience. I’d have helped you if someone gave you a freaking child to raise on your own.”
With a sigh, he hauls himself to his feet and takes the screaming baby from me. With Vivi in his arms, he sits on one end of the couch and lays her on her back on the cushion. “Go grab the diaper bag.”
How he handles a screaming child so calmly is beyond me. My heart is being pummeled, and I want to pull my fucking hair out.
I find the diaper bag by the door, unzip it, and rifle through its contents, feeling helpless.
For the thousandth time since I first held Vivi, I wonder how the hell I’m going to do this, all the while knowing I have no choice. Vivi needs me. She’s got no one else.
My brother waves me over and points to the other end of the couch, near Vivi’s head. “Sit and hold her belly still. I’ll grab what we need and show you how it’s done.” He snatches the bag from me, and once I’ve got both hands on Vivi, he digs through it. “I’m only doing this once, Gav. So pay attention.”
Damn, I think he might be my hero. He may only be two years older than me, and truthfully, I haven’t looked at him like he’s my big brother since we were kids, but right now, I feel small. And I’m downright awestruck by the way he talks in a soothing voice to me—clearly for Vivi’s benefit—and tells me exactly what he’s doing while he pulls out a diaper, some kind of cream, a package of wipes, and powder. The whole time, he alternates between watching what he’s doing and checking in with me to make sure I understand.
She’s changed and he’s holding her out to me when Dylan steps into the room holding a bottle.
“Make sure to test the temperature before you give it to her,” she instructs.
With a roll of my eyes, I snatch it out of her hands, bring it to my mouth, and suck. The second the flavor registers, my stomach revolts. “Holy shit,” I cough out between gags. “What the fuck are you feeding my child?”
“You don’t drink the formula,” Dylan says, yanking the bottle from my hand.
I rub my tongue over the roof of my mouth and stick it out, desperate to get rid of the flavor. “You said to test the temperature.”
“With your wrist. Have you never been around babies before?”
“Only the twins, and as you so aptly pointed out, they don’t take bottles.” I swipe it back and hold it up in front of me, inspecting the off-white liquid. “Fuck, we can’t feed this horrible stuff to her.”
My brother is clutching his stomach and flopped back against the cushions, laughing so hard tears pour down his face.
“You ducking try it.” I toss the bottle at him, panic rushing through me as my daughter screams in my arms once again.
“I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” Dylan mutters. She takes Vivi from my arms and the bottle from Beckett and disappears into the kitchen.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, focusing on the city skyline and rubbing at the pain in my chest.
“It can’t be that bad,” Beckett muses.
I stick my tongue out and wipe my sleeve across my mouth, then head to my bedroom so I can brush my teeth. When I return, Dylan is on the couch, holding Vivi, whose eyes are heavy, like she’s almost asleep.
“Poor thing has had a long day,” she says softly to the baby. She looks up at me, her eyes full of tears. “Who could leave this beautiful girl alone?”
The weight returns to my shoulders as I settle beside her. “No one worth thinking about.” I sigh. “Can you show me how to make the bottles before you leave?”
“Yes. Beckett, go set up the playpen in Gavin’s room.” She pats my leg. “I know this is overwhelming, but just take it one day at a time.”
One day at a time. Ha. I blink down at Vivi. It’s only been a few hours, and I’m wiped out. Yet I have to do this again tomorrow. All day. For the next eighteen years, at least.
“What would happen to her?” I whisper, my heart twisting.
“If what?” Dylan asks, studying me with those keen golden eyes.
“If I hadn’t been here today? If she didn’t have a father? Who would have taken her?”
Dylan brushes her thumb over Vivi’s cheek. “Social services would get involved, and she’d be placed with a foster family. They have emergency placements, but without either parent, she’d probably be in the system for a while. They’d try to find them first. Then there would be hoops to jump through before she could be adopted.”