Page 18 of Not the Bodyguard's Baby
“I can take Harmony, but do me a favor and write your report on Harmony for September.” She finished her water. “I’ll be back by seven.”
His father stood. “Drop by the office after you’re finished. I’ll know how long we will need to cover for Alex by then and can work something out. Also, I am thinking Deidre for September’s security lead. Any thoughts?”
Deidre Ross had joined the Hastings team last year. Hyperfocused the few times he worked with her, she’d been more than competent. “It would probably work. I’ve noticed she avoids shifts when the Crawford baby is in the mix. Not sure if that will work with Harmony.”
“I’ll ask her about that. I’d better catch up with your mother. It is only Valentine’s Day and already she has twenty-one miles on me.”
“I am sure you have her in reps.”
Adam smiled as the back door shut. His parents had been “competing” at the gym as long as he could remember. His mother always finished the year with three hundred to five hundred more miles than his father, who usually ended the year with more reps at a higher weight. The winner of each competition received a week’s vacation at the destination of their choice. The loser paid for it. So far it had worked out well for both parents.
The sounds of Harmony waking up came from the monitor. Adam hurried to change and feed her so he could do the same for himself. Halfway through the bottle, he remembered the note. He tried to balance a notepad on the arm of the chair so he could write, but a kick from Harmony sent the pad flying to the floor. He tried again with the same result. He hoped he would have time to write the note and take a shower, providing he got Harmony back to sleep so he could take one. He checked the time on his phone. Yikes, he would be late as it was. Forget the letter. He put the phone in selfie mode and pressed the record button.
“Good morning. Sorry I can’t be there today. Harmony and I had fun last night. I shouldn’t have played with her, but...” Phones were not allowed past security, but Mom would figure out a way to show September the video. He emailed the file and burped the baby.
“Okay, little one, how do I take a shower with you awake?” He pondered the situation, but nothing came to him. Maybe he could lay her on the floor outside his bathroom. On the way upstairs, he passed the pile of things his sister had brought. A pink-and-turquoise bouncy-chair thing that looked like a more comfortable version of the car seat sat on the floor. He grabbed it with his free hand and rushed up the stairs.
“Oh, look. It has a mobile.” Adam fastened Harmony into the seat, turned the switch to on, and turned the seat away from the shower door. “Sorry, no watching men shower for, like, fifty years, little girl.”
He had just lathered his hair with shampoo when the music stopped and Harmony began to fuss. As he started to rinse, her crying intensified. Adam shut off the shower with soap still in his hair and grabbed a towel. “Hey, pumpkin, what’s wrong?” The second step out of the shower brought him to his knees as his dripping wet foot connected with a worn spot in the old linoleum. At his fall, Harmony cried louder. Adam crawled across the floor and turned her seat around. Instantly she stopped and gave him a little smile. “Fine. You can sit facing the bathroom. Just no peeking. I don’t want to have to explain anything to your mom.”
Adam concluded the shortest shower he’d taken since leaving the army. Harmony bounced and kicked in the seat while he dried himself in the shower. This time he took more care stepping out. As soon as he walked into his closet, she started fussing again. Adam turned the seat so it faced the bedroom. “You don’t like having people do things behind your back, do you? If I keep talking while I am out of sight, can we finish? I’d rather not dress in front of a lady.” He pulled on his pants as fast as he could to the sounds of fussing but figured he could go shirtless. That wouldn’t scar her for life, would it? He turned the seat around while he finished dressing.
He heard his mother in the hallway as he worked the last button.
She knocked on the open door. “You’re buttoned crooked.”
Adam looked down and started to rebutton his shirt. “How did you do it, Mom? All I wanted was a quick shower, and I could hardly get it done!”
Laughter filled the room as Melanie bent down and removed Harmony from the seat. “There were days I couldn’t get a shower at all until your father got home. If I put the twins in the playpen, then either you or Alan would start a fight. If the two of you were watching TV, then the twins were screaming. I think I gave up with Andrew. Half the showers I took I brought him in with me and prayed the four of you wouldn’t set off the smoke alarms.”
“It is a wonder every mother in the world doesn’t have PPD from lack of sleep alone.”
“I think most women get at least a little, what, when you add in the changing hormones from concluding a pregnancy to the odd sleep hours. It is hard for a body to cope.” Melanie walked to the door with Harmony.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, I love spending time with this angel.”
“No, I mean thanks for having all of us five kids. Thanks for raising us.”
“You’re welcome.”
Adam pulled on his shoes and socks and rushed to his vehicle, hoping he wouldn’t be too late. Never again would he think of a mother’s job as easy.
* * *
The lunch noise in the cafeteria rose as patients from several units converged on the room. September sat at a table with several other moms from her ward. She noticed most of the other tables comprised similar groupings. In the corner, a group of twenty-somethings conversed over heart-shaped cookies with pink frosting. A few men in their fifties sat at another table. Careful not to make eye contact with any other patients, she briefly bowed her head over her food. She didn’t dare say a prayer out loud for fear of someone commenting. Orderlies patrolled the room, attempting to blend in, paying particular attention to the plastic utensils. For institutional fare, the food was better than expected.
Two young women rose from the corner table and wound their way through the dining room to the area where the PPD moms sat.
“Excuse me.” The one with spiky blonde hair tapped September on the shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you that you could be September Platt’s doppelgänger?”
“September who?”
“The singer. She sings Christian-pop stuff.” The short brunette tilted her head and squinted. “You could totally be her body double if you lost about twenty pounds and cut your hair.”
“Oh.” September took a bite of her burger, hoping they would take the hint and leave.
