Page 25 of Callahan

Brian: I expected him to stay in my guestroom tonight.

Me: That’s my fault! He fell asleep while I was putting Conor to bed, and instead of waking him up, I put a blanket on him.

I didn’t want Brian to think something untoward was going on—even if I had kind of wanted exactly that.

Me: Do you want me to wake him up?

Brian: Only if you want to. I was getting ready to go to bed but didn’t want to lock him out. I also wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten lost.

Me: He’s fine here, although he might not agree when Conor wakes up hungry at 2 a.m. and again at 5.

Brian: Maybe Adam could help you and take a feeding shift.

Me: Unfortunately, I’m the only one with the right equipment to feed the baby, if you know what I mean.

I included a laughing emoji, which he returned.

Brian: He doesn’t take a bottle yet?

Me: Not yet. There hasn’t really been a need to wean him.

Brian: It’d probably make your life easier if you did. That way more people could help you. I’m sure the O’Briens would love an opportunity to have their grandson overnight.

Me: I know you’re right. But it’s going to take effort, something I seem to be in short supply of lately.

Brian: You have a lot of people to lean on. Yours truly included.

Me: And I love you for it.

Brian: Tell Adam not to leave town tomorrow without saying goodbye.

Me: I will. Goodnight.

Brian: Goodnight. Sleep tight.

Fingers crossed I could fall back asleep before Conor woke up in a few hours.

****

Adam

I woke to baby Conor’s hungry cries quickly followed by the sound of bare feet padding down the hall, then Lainey’s soft voice as she quietly soothed him.

In the still of the small apartment in the middle of the night, I could hear everything.

“Shhh… it’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy’s here. Hold on one second.”

Then it was quiet again, except for a steady, rhythmic sound of what I imagined was a rocking chair.

As I lay listening in the dark room, I felt drawn to see if there was something I could do to help her, but I wasn’t sure what.

It came to me when the sound of the rocking stopped. I could at least burp and change him and allow her to go back to bed.

With purposefully heavy footsteps so not to startle her, I appeared in the doorway of the nursery. I could see her in the chair by the window patting the baby’s back.

She looked like an angel with the moonlight reflecting off her mussed blonde hair.

“Hey. Let me do that,” I said as I approached her in what turned out to be a glider not a rocker.

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