Page 79 of The Bartender's Baby

The very least I could do was bring some flowers and do loads of laundry.

And get out of the house. Tabitha had spent the first two weeks pretty much horizontal, save for the appointments to the pediatrician and the lactation consultant. Between bouts of crying and feeding George, she hadn’t moved much from the bed. But the last few days, she’d been up and about. While I didn’t mind waiting on her hand and foot, it was good to see color in her cheeks and have her rolling her eyes at my dumb jokes.

We’d tested out the stroller Summer and my dad gifted us with some short walks around the neighborhood, and last night, Gen, Kennedy, and Brooke had come over to coo at the baby while giving one another manicures and pedicures. I stayed out of their way, knowing Tabby needed time alone with them, and it had been while I cleaned up the kitchen that I’d received my texts.

Jude

Meet us at Imagination tomorrow at 10.

Liam

Welcome to the club.

The dads club??

Dylan

don’t be weird about it

Do I get a badge or something?

Dylan

thats being weird

So, this morning, I packed the diaper bag with everything I might need and probably a dozen things I didn’t then carefully loaded Frogger into the car to spend a few hours with my bros while Tabby got to relax in the quiet at home.

After parking, I slid the diaper bag over my shoulder and carried the car seat in one hand, careful not to jostle my boy too much. He was asleep, and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him up.

I was the last to arrive, finding my best friends already seated on the bench in front of the doctor’s office. They’d all popped over to the house to meet George, but the three of them watched me with interested gazes as I set the car seat down at my feet and slid onto the end of the bench next to Liam.

He kept his focus on the baby as he asked, “How’s it going?”

“Okay, I guess.”

Dylan bent forward to meet my gaze. “How’s Tabby?”

“She’s good. She’s feeling a lot better the past few days.”

Jude grinned at me. “And how are you?”

I shrugged, rubbing my hand over my beard, thinking about the last three weeks. The last nine months. “Tired. Overwhelmed.” I looked at each of my friends in turn. “Really fucking happy.”

They all nodded as if it made perfect sense.

I stared down at George, his eyes closed, hands in fists on top of the muslin blanket with Winnie the Pooh all over it. So peaceful. I inhaled deeply, admitting to my friends what I kept from Tabby. “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” Lowering my voice, I met their gazes. “I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck it all up.”

Jude waved his hand. “None of us know what we’re doing.”

Liam agreed. “We’re all figuring it out as we go along.”

Dylan crossed his arms. “And don’t listen to anybody’s advice. Nobody knows your kid better than you do.”

“But also remember that nothing lasts forever, and as soon as you have it figured out, things will change again,” Jude amended.

“And vice versa,” Liam added. “It might be terrible, but it will eventually get better.”

I huffed. “So what you’re saying is none of you have anything helpful to say?”

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