To Have It All(21)

It was her.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself.

“Shit,” Pim mimicked in her adorable little baby voice.

My eyes about bulged out of my head. “Shit,” I said again without thinking, drawing the word out, realizing I’d just taught this baby girl how to say a bad word.

“Liam!” Hel scolded, her eyes widened.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” I apologized to Pim. “Shit,” I said again, realizing I kept repeating the word and added another bad one to boot. Working in a mechanic shop most of my life didn’t exactly encourage a demure vocabulary. Clearly, I was going to have to work on this, or I’d be responsible for children everywhere getting their mouths washed out with soap.

“Is this really happening?” Hel asked no one in particular, in disbelief I had just cursed so many times within a few seconds.

“Don’t say that word, little one. Your mother will have my balls on spikes for teaching it to you.”

“Balls,” Pimberly babbled in her cute baby voice. I smacked my hand to my forehead in frustration.

“Liam!” Hel scolded again as she took Pim from me and placed her on her hip.

The doorbell rang again, only this time we were back to ringing it sixty times in a three-second time frame. Waverly was an impatient one. I stood, frozen in place, for some reason unsure of what to do. All I could do was stare at Hel, my eyes wide in panic. Waverly was here. What the hell should I do?

“Go get the door, idiot,” Hel whisper-yelled, flinging her hand out in emphasis.

“Right. Good idea,” I agreed, snapping to. Hurrying to the door, I whipped it open, causing Waverly to jump on the other side waiting, seemingly surprised.

“Hi,” I rasped. “You’re early.”

“Uh, hi,” she responded awkwardly. “Class got canceled, so I got back early.” Standing on her tippy-toes, she peeked over my shoulder. “How did it go?”

Standing aside, I opened the door more to let her in. She walked by me and stopped as soon as she caught sight of Hel holding Pim. Twisting her neck, she looked back at me, narrowing her eyes in obvious anger.

“Who is holding my daughter?” she asked, her mouth tight. There was no missing it in her tone—she was pissed.

Damn. I hadn’t thought of how to introduce Helen. She was supposed to be gone before Waverly got back.

“Uh . . . this . . . is . . .” I stopped, officially stumped. It was obvious I had no idea what to say.

“I’m Helen,” Hel jumped in, reaching her hand out to shake Waverly’s. Helen was tense, jittery even. We were both having to wing our way through this mess, and it was no cake walk. Waverly took Helen’s hand, but only for a second before she snatched Pim from Hel’s arms. “I’m a friend of . . . Li . . . I mean Max’s,” she corrected herself.

Walking past Helen, she started picking up Pim’s things and tossing them in bags. “You couldn’t make it a few hours without calling one of your girlfriends in, Max?”

“Oh . . . ew,” Helen gagged. “No. Definitely not a girlfriend,” she hemmed and hawed, moving her body like she was about to regurgitate her breakfast. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

Waverly continued packing Pim’s belongings not acknowledging Helen. Leaning over, quietly, I said to Helen, “That wasn’t over the top at all. The gagging bit had a nice affect.”

Closing her eyes, she bobbed her head once, acknowledging she’d just looked and sounded ridiculous.

“She just ate,” I told Waverly. “She’s got a good appetite on her.”

Silence.

Waverly said nothing in response.

Darting my eyes to Helen, I widened them in silent question, What now?

Helen bit her lip, a look of uncertainty on her face, obviously equally uncomfortable with the quiet before blurting, “She pooped about an hour ago. Good amount and great consistency.”

Cutting my gaze to her, I twisted my features into a, Why the fuck are you talking about her poop, look. Helen rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in defense, her own look back to me saying, At least I said something, asshole. “Mom’s need to know about the poop,” she exclaimed. “If they don’t go or it’s too hard they could be constipated or if it’s loose or runny, they might be dehydrated. Poop matters,” she rambled on, awkwardly.

Raising my hand, I rubbed my forehead. This was a freaking train wreck. Waverly probably thought Helen was insane.

“Thanks for the info,” Waverly snipped. “Do you have children, Helen?”

“A son,” Helen told her, her mouth quirking into a smile as she thought about David. “He’s thirteen. And,” placing her hand on her small bump, she added, “Got one on the way, too.”

If a look could spray venom, I’d be blind, dead, or burned. Waverly’s dark eyes fixed on Helen’s bump before moving to my eyes with such anger I had to take a step back. “Nice, Max,” she seethed. “You going to ditch this baby, too?”

Chunking a bag in the wagon, she grabbed the handle and yanked it forward, bulldozing through Helen and me. “Unbelievable,” she griped as she headed to the front door, Pim still on her hip.

Helen jerked her stare to me, eyes wide as she pointed a firm finger at her belly. “She thinks this is your baby.”