Page 73 of Sweet on You
25
Lex
Two hours. It had been two hours of constant crying, screaming and temper tantrums. Who knew such little vocal chords could pack such a punch? Maybe she was destined to be an opera singer? Or a sports commentator. But her shrill, piercing screams were rattling my brain and I didn’t know how to calm her down. We’d already watched every Elmo video available on YouTube as well as some other show called Paw Patrol. She’d had a bottle. A snack. I changed her diaper. We played with some of the toys her grandparents had brought with her.
But nothing seemed to quiet her. Nothing seemed to soothe her insatiable screams.
“Olivia, sweetheart. What do you want? Come on, use your words.”
Shit. Did she even have words? I’d heard her say a few words here and there, but she wasn’t really forming sentences or anything.
She pointed to the door. “Pappap. Nana.”
I scooped her into my arms, bouncing her up and down, which only seemed to make her scream louder. Frost darted from the kitchen, running for the bedroom, no doubt hiding from the incessant noise.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I answered it without checking the caller ID. “Lex?” Ronnie’s voice from the other end was barely audible.
“Ronnie,” I sighed.Thank God. A voice that was calm. Quiet.
“I was going to ask how it was going, but I think I have my answer,” she said.
“I don’t know how to make her stop crying,” I said. “I’ve tried everything.”
“Do you want help? I’m just around the corner.”
I sighed, my eyes drifting closed. Maybe it was naïve to think I could do this first sleepover totally alone. Maybe there was a reason so many people did this with two parents, not one. Of course, some of us had no choice. But still—I was in way over my head. “God, yes. Please.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She was right—she was coming from literally around the corner, and within a couple of minutes, she knocked at my door.
At the sound of someone knocking, Olivia’s tears ceased. She perked up and looked to the door, pointing. “Pappap?”
I froze still with my daughter in my arms. Shit. I knew it wasn’t her Pappap, but the second I said so, she’d scream again. So I chose not to answer her and as I opened the door, I smiled as large as I could, bouncing Olivia on my hip. “It’s Aunt Ronnie!” I said in the most excited voice I could muster.
Olivia’s brows creased as she stared warily at Ronnie.
“Hi, Olivia!” Ronnie said, grinning.
She didn’t return the smile, but at least she wasn’t crying. Then her gaze shifted down to Ronnie’s feet where Penny was sitting patiently looking up at us.
“Doggie!” Olivia cried out, pointing down. “Woof, woof!”
Oh, thank God. No more crying. “That’s right,” I said. “That’s a dog. His name is Penny.”
“Penny,” she repeated.
“I brought you something,” Ronnie said and pulled a Tupperware container full of sugar cookies out from behind her back. She opened it, reached in, and held one out for Olivia, who immediately outstretched her hand to the cookie, her smile growing to a giggle.
“Cookie!” she squealed.
“Are you going to be a good girl and no more tears?”
She shook her head. “No tears!”
“Okay,” Ronnie said. “Let’s go sit on the couch and you can eat your cookie. Then maybe we can take Penny for a walk to the playground.”
Another squeal and a peal of laughter echoed through the stairwell. I stared in awe at Ronnie, blinking as she passed by us, making her way upstairs.
