Page 107 of Who's Your Daddy?

He pulls his lips in, but he’s on the verge of bursting. “I don’t smell anything.”

I grab him by the neck and yank him closer. “How ‘bout now?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. That smells bad.”

They are the best and worst friends I could ask for because they crack up when I grab a pack of wipes from the shelf, then rip open the plastic cover of the diapers to take one out. I pivot on my heel and go in search of a changing room.

Once I find an empty one, I place him on the changing bed and gently tug off his pants. The smell gets stronger, but I tell myself to persevere the same way Daniel-son did. I undo both sides of the diaper and as soon as I pull it down, the loudest retching sound rips from my throat.

“Oh, God!” I immediately cover it up again and take a moment to settle my stomach. I pull it down again and fresh bile rises in my throat. “Why is it so wet?” I gag again, simultaneously grabbing about eight wipes. The smell is noxious, causing tears to collect in my eyes. I force myself to breathe through my mouth as I try to wipe it, but it only smears it across his bottom. “What did you even eat?”

I grab more wipes, and after he’s finally clean, I have the joy of trying to figure out how to put on the new diaper. I get it right on the third try, and I have to say, once his pants are back on and I’ve washed my hands, I feel some sense of accomplishment. I’m not the same person I was five minutes ago.

“I see why they call it a changing room,” I say as I lift Ambrose again. “Because I am walking out of here a changed man.” I chuckle. “That was my first dad joke, and I know what you’re thinking. I’m not your dad, but given all events and circumstances...I think it fits.”

By the time I join the other two again, Dylan has already filled the cart halfway, and he’s nowhere near done. He’s so pedantic about anything I select. He checks every label to make sure it’s BPA-free or hypoallergenic. His expression is a mixture of excitement and longing. I know he has fertility issues, but it’s obvious he wants to have kids.

“These diapers aren’t the best, especially for a boy,” he says. “It kinda leaks out the side—”

“Dyl, you’re broody as fuck. You’re worse than Lia was during her nesting phase. You need to start looking at options.”

“I will...when I’m ready.”

As sentimental as he is, he rarely opens up about things that get him in the feels. He says nothing further on the matter and continues talking about the absorbency of diapers.

While Dylan has been very practical with what he’s put in the cart, Scott is off the chain. He’s tossing in robots and building blocks. He even tries to get an electric car before I remind him that there’s no way Ambrose is going to grow enough in the next few weeks to even use it.

That’s the heavy thought that stays with me as we leave the store, and I carry it with me all the way home. Dylan and Scott unload all the baby products once we get back to my house, but it’s only when they leave that I realize just how overwhelming it is to take on the full responsibility of looking after a tiny human by myself. I don’t know if Lia did this on her own. Maybe she dumped him here because it was just too much. But the very thought that I have to care for this child until she gets back is absolutely daunting.

I carry this tiny bundle upstairs and stop outside the nursery door. I haven’t stepped foot inside it in three months. Opening the door unleashes all the memories I had trapped in there. They were all exiled to this room, locked up tight while I went about my business. But now those memories have been released from their prison and roam freely.

I see the excitement in her eyes as the mural started coming together. I see us painting the crib and making out on the floor. On the edge of the changing table are the pictures I took off the fridge and seeing those brings back more memories. Us watching movies together and play-fighting on the bed. Me talking to her belly every night.

As the images float through my mind, I start to wonder how much of it was a lie. How could I not have known that our entire relationship was one-sided? How could I have gone through so many months never suspecting that she was conning me into being a stand-in?

And she’s doing it again now. I’m the stand-in while she’s off somewhere, probably trying to make amends with her ex. What did her letter say again? She wants to talk some sense into Teddy and then she’ll come back and get him. As much as I’d like to be spiteful and tell her to get lost and find some other chump, I can’t do that if she’s not here, and more importantly, I can’t use Ambrose as a pawn in a sick game to get back at her.

I walk over to the changing station and gently lay him down. “Well, that was an exciting day, huh?”

He kicks and throws his hands to show just how excited he is.

“Now, if you and I are gonna be rooming together, we gotta discuss some house rules. Lights out at nine o’clock. No girls allowed here. I always had that rule because if a chick goes psycho, she won’t know where I live. I broke that rule with Lia, and it led to me finding a baby on my doorstep. For obvious reasons, I think you can see why that rule must be reinstated.”

He makes a small coo, which I assume is him agreeing to that.

“Next rule. No wild parties. I don’t want you up at midnight, drinking and throwing up all over the place. Even if it’s milk, it’s unbecoming, and that’s not how we behave.”

He gurgles, his hands still moving wildly up and down as if he likes the sound of my voice.

“You think I’m kidding? I’m not kidding. I run a tight ship here.”

He gives me the widest smile, showing me nothing but gums.

“Ah, shit. You just had to have a dimple, didn’t you? Right there on your cheek...just like your mom. I mean...of course that would happen. Here I was, ignorantly thinking that the situation couldn’t get any worse, but you sure showed me, huh?”

I reach out to gently touch his cheek, and when his tiny fingers wrap around mine, something cracks inside me. I’m going to give myself some credit because, despite everything that has happened today, I battled through and kept myself together. But it’s at this point that I cave. It’s at this point that I feel how truly hollow I am inside. I feel the gaping hole she left in me because now, for the first time in months, I’m getting a glimpse of what’s been missing in my life, the substance that initially filled the hole.

“What in the world made your mom think this was a good idea?” I ask softly. “She’s gonna leave you here for who knows how long, then just swoop in and take you? Does she not know the depth to which that will fuck me up?” I pause and recompose myself. “Sorry. I need to stop cussing in front of you, but you gotta understand my frustration here. This woman is gonna drive me nuts. See, what she doesn’t understand is that I loved you like you were mine from the beginning. I’m looking at you now, and I can tell you that knowing the truth doesn’t change a damn thing.” I release a heavy sigh. “So, what am I going to do when she comes back for you?”

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