Page 11 of Wistful in Wyoming
“Oh, hell,” he muttered before gathering her close. He held her as she cried, soaking his shirt. He was honestly at a complete loss for words right now. Baby hormones had fried her brain or something. “Um, should I call Nathan?”
“Yes! No! I don’t know! I’m angry and happy and sad and stressed all at the same time!” she wailed, crying harder, her shoulder shaking. Keeping one arm around her, he pulled his cell from his back pocket and fumbled a text to Nathan.
Jeremiah: Your wife is sobbing on my shirt. Please help.
Thankfully, he didn’t need to wait long for a reply.
Nathan: On my way.
After setting his phone on the counter, he rubbed his hands up and down her back. As he waited for Nathan to arrive, an idea formed in his mind. He mulled it over while consoling his best friend—over what, he still wasn’t sure.
Willow was winding down to sniffles when Nathan rushed in, looking harried and worried, with Shannon on his hip. Jeremiah released Willow and immediately drew the baby into his arms, so Nathan could take over comforting his wife.
Cuddling Shannon against his shoulder, he left the couple alone, ducking into his living room and plopping onto the couch, his beer and foul mood forgotten. He rested his feet on the coffee table and propped Shannon on his bent knees. “What do you think, Sunshine? Think you would want to hang with me for a bit and give your mama and daddy a break?” Staring at her blue eyes, framed by those gorgeous dark curls, he nodded to himself. “You’re right, we got this.”
Nathan led Willow into the room, an arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Not giving the man a chance to speak, Jeremiah said, “You two go pack a bag. Sunshine and me are gonna hang out and watch some movies. Don’t worry, I’ll cover her eyes if there’s any kissing involved.” Yes, they were aware of his Hallmark Channel addiction. “Bring me whatever stuff she needs, and I’ll take her for the night and all day tomorrow. Go rent a room somewhere and relax. Dale and Shane can handle the chores just fine. Plus, I’m only a phone call away if they need help.”
It wasn’t as if he’d never babysat his goddaughter for an hour here and there before.A few more can’t be that bad, right?
Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Jeremiah raised his hand, silencing her. “You’re right, everything you said—I just need some time to think it over, and what better way than with this gorgeous angel to hash things over with? Go do whatever—Sunshine and me here have some plans to make.”
Chapter Eight
Four hours later,Jeremiah was kneeling on the floor with Shannon—his sunshine, his goddaughter, and the destroyer of multiple diapers laid out on and around the changing pad Willow had said to use.
“It’s easy to clean,” she’d said. Never, ever, in a million years had he anticipated that being something he would need to take into consideration. Little Miss Blowout had nasty-looking yellow liquid leaking out of the sides of her diaper, down her legs, and somehow, also up her back.
“Girl! How did this happen?” He had a pack of wipes beside his knee, with half of them already pulled out, along with clean clothes, a fresh diaper, and two plastic bags. One for the diaper currently leaking nuclear waste and the other for her dirty clothes that he was going to have torinse outbefore he could wash them. She babbled in response, waving her hands at him and kicking her feet.
Unsnapping her onesie at the crotch, he carefully rolled it up, trying his best to contain the mess within the garment. “Jesus Christ on a cracker, girly, I thought cow shit was horrible.” Gagging, he tucked his face into his shirt.
What seemed like fifteen wipes later, he realized he should’ve just plopped her into the clean kitchen sink to rinse her off and bathe her, not pissed around with the wipes, but he was already committed and almost done.
A few moments later, he declared, “All right, young lady, now you’re naked and clean. So , let’s get you into a new diaper and fresh clothes.”
Before he could get started though, Shannon’s sweet giggles changed in tone, her cheeks turning red, as she screwed up her face and let out a scream. Tears dripped from the corner of her scrunched up eyes. She straightened her legs out, arching her back, keeping them tense and flat as boards, refusing to bend her knees, so he could lift her and put the new diaper under her little butt. Huffing in frustration, he tried again, unsuccessfully, to put the diaper on her. Her wails were hurting his ears, and he was seconds away from bawling along with her.
“How is someone so small this strong? You’re like the baby Hulk!” Sweat dotted his brow as his stress level rose. Willow always made this look so easy—two minutes, wham, bam, diapered baby! Nathan had the process down pat too. Jeremiah had even changed the baby a few times with Willow by his side. But this time, on his first solo run, his little Sunshine had turned into a tiny monster who didn’t want to be naked but also didn’t want a diaper on.
Maybe a toy would help distract her. Searching the baby-themed detritus that now covered his living room floor, he didn’t see a single toy within reach.
What the hell? Nathan brought over an entire bag of them—where did they go?
Glancing around once more, inspiration struck, and he grabbed a nearby bottle that’d fallen out when he’d dumped half the diaper bag on the floor. “Talc-free organic tapioca starch? What the heck is that?”
Shannon’s only reply was another screech to the high heavens. Honestly, it didn’t freakin’ matter what the stuff was. Kids didn’t care as long as they had something to hold and look at. That’s what he was going with anyway.
Once he gave her the bottle, she held it with both hands, inspecting it, and her crying and writhing slowed. He didn’t hesitate, slipping the new diaper under her bottom and fastening the sides with all the speed he used when wrangling a bawling calf.
Lifting both hands in the air like a champion, he shouted, “Done!”
Later, he would swear he saw a devious glint in Shannon’s eye as she pointed the canister at his face and gave it a good shake, releasing a large cloud of white. Jeremiah coughed and choked as the powder filled his nose and mouth. He hacked and gagged, waving his hands in front of his face, trying to clear away the billowy mass from the air. Meanwhile, Shannon was crying again, no doubt upset because he was desperately trying to draw fresh oxygen into his lungs again so he wouldn’t pass out.
Blinking cleared his vision—somehow the spray had mostly hit his mouth and chest, missing his eyes. Glancing down, he saw they were both covered in a fine blanket of white, along with the floor all around them. She still had a good grip on the bottle, and the more she shook it, the more white powder exploded from the top of it. The cloying scent hung heavy around them, mixed with the smell coming from her dirty diaper, souring his stomach further.
“Well, fuck. I mean shoot. You didn’t hear me say that bad word. Don’t worry, I’ll put money in the swear jar later.” Shaking his head, he took the bottle from her, which increased her upset from simply crying to scream-the-rafters-down level. “At least I didn’t get your clothes on yet.”
A change of clothes for both and two more hours had passed, and Shannon wasstillcrying.
