Patchwork Paradise(49)

When even my magic bounce didn’t stop his fussing anymore, we made our way inside, ready to tackle the mysteries of diaper changing—in other words, wake my mother. We found her already in the kitchen, doing that morning’s dishes.

“You two change his diaper,” she said when I cheerfully tried to hand her Milo. She rudely ignored me. “And then come dry the dishes.”

Thomas shrugged at me, so we went into the living room instead.

“Liesbeth showed me yesterday,” he told me as he grinned. “So I’ll talk you through it.”

“Oh, I see how this goes.” I gingerly sniffed Milo’s behind, then promptly promised myself never to do that again. At least I didn’t get a whiff of the pits of Mordor this time. “Fine. But the next numero deux is all yours.”

Thomas laughed as I undid the onesie and pushed it out of the way. Carefully I eased the Velcro loose and tugged the wet diaper out from under him. “This thing weighs a ton,” I said as I handed it to Thomas. “At least we know his equipment works.” He gave me a droll look. “Okay. Wipes.” I plucked a wipe from the box, used it so gently I probably shouldn’t have bothered, then didn’t know what to do with the wipe.

“Next time keep the diaper under him until you’re done with that, and you can wrap the wipe inside.”

“Okay, Mister Experienced, how about you do it next time?” Milo cooed like he thought that was funny, and I smiled at him. “Yeah, you and I, we understand each other, don’t we? Yes, we do. Yes, we do, you cutie poo.” Oh my God, why was I using my I spotted a cute dog voice? I plucked a diaper from the box, studied it to make sure I didn’t put it on backward, and glanced over my shoulder when my mother walked in.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“Great,” I said, and as I bent down to put the diaper on, Milo peed in my face.



Thomas at least managed to look contrite as he handed me a towel—after laughing so hard, he cried. My mom had no such scruples. She kept laughing all through finishing the job of changing Milo, then burst into laughter again every time she looked at me as I helped her with the dishes.

“I’m going to go home for a bit,” she said when we were done. “But I’ll be back tonight so you boys aren’t here by yourself. Milo will need another bottle in an hour or so.”

Thomas made a noise that sounded mildly panicked as he held Milo in his arms.

“Hey, Mom, before you go, Thomas needs to talk to you.” He gave me the stink eye as I fled the room, but it served him right for laughing at me.

I went up into my bedroom and felt a soft peace descend on me as I closed the door. It was good to be alone for a minute. I took my time showering and changing my clothes. After, I sat down on my bed and glanced around the bedroom that had once belonged to two people so in love, they’d never considered a what if. The picture on the nightstand called to me, and I lifted it. Sam smiled at the camera. He had his arms around me from behind. It was a meaningless shot, really. No big day, no big deal, but it brought out everything that had attracted me to him from the very beginning. His gorgeous smile, his sophisticated face, his kind, warm eyes.

“There’s a baby in our house, Sam,” I whispered. “An actual, crying, wailing, pooping, peeing baby.” I laughed disbelievingly. “You’d have hated it. Hated it. But I have to tell you something. I love it. He’s only been here for a day, and I love him already. If you were still here . . . I don’t know. I think I might’ve wanted a child of my own someday. But you would never have wanted that, would you?”

I quietly began to cry and wiped angrily at my tears, not understanding where they came from this time. I was so confused by my own feelings. I just wanted to talk to him one last time. He’d know the answer even when I didn’t quite know the question.

I put the frame down again. It didn’t matter. Sam wasn’t here, but Thomas and Milo were. My tears dried and my heart ached in a good way as I left the peace in my bedroom behind. Thomas and Milo were on the couch.

Without thinking, I walked up behind them and pressed a kiss to Thomas’s hair. He looked up, startled, and I made an O face at him when I realized what I’d done.

“Um,” I said. “I don’t know why I did that.”

He flushed a gorgeous pink. “That’s okay,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t mind.” He patted Milo on the back. “He won’t burp. He wouldn’t burp last night either, and then he cried for an hour.”

“Give him here,” I said and took Milo from his arms. I held him against my shoulder and walked around the living room until he let out a little burp. “Do you think he’ll sleep when he’s done?”

Thomas took Milo back to give him the rest of his bottle. “I think so, yes.” He held my gaze, and I realized I really liked the way he looked at me.

“I’ll make us some lunch. And maybe afterward we can go for a walk.” I’d seen something folded up that looked like a stroller. How hard could it be to put that thing together?

“That sounds nice,” Thomas said, and I left them to it.

Knowing I’d have guests, I had stocked up the fridge. I decided to show off a little. I couldn’t cook much, but I made a mean salad.

I opened a can of tuna, drained and rinsed chickpeas, chopped iceberg and arugula, quartered grape tomatoes and olives, and then coated the chickpeas in the oil from the tuna. After I tossed it all together, I cut up a fresh French baguette, put some Brie on a platter, and tugged a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge. The country-style kitchen had a big, white-oak table, and I set it with cheerful orange-and-white placemats, the nice cutlery I’d bought when Sam and I moved in, and wineglasses, because why not. We would drink water in style.