After a quick lesson on how to keep his son alive and healthy, Jess walked a few blocks to Walmart to pick up a few necessary things he would need. Obviously diapers and formula were number one, but he'd also need somewhere for his son to sleep, since the nurse said it wasn't safe to let him sleep in a car seat.
He walked down the formula aisle with the car seat handle resting in the crook of his elbow and eighty-seven dollars he'd taken from his roommate in his back pocket.
The number of different brands was astonishing. Jess rubbed the back of his neck and read the different advantages to each one. Organic, iron fortified, sensitive stomach? How the hell was he supposed to know which one to choose. He didn't know if his son had a sensitive stomach. Wouldn't most babies? Was it normal to need extra iron? Was it something he should be concerned about?
He waited until a woman walked down the aisle, pushing a cart with a car seat attached to the front. Inside was a baby not much older than Jess's, so he watched as she went for one of the tubs of infant formula, threw it in her basket and walked away. Jess reached for the tub, before reading the price, then reached for the store brand version of the same tub. He'd grown up poor and knew most store brand versions were just as good as name brand.
Next, he went to the diapers, but was much less confused since the baby was already wearing one. He unbuttoned his onesie, checked the size, and grabbed a large box.
After gathering the bare necessities, Jess gain a small sense of confidence, but it immediately dissipated once he got to the cribs and noticed there wasn't one under a hundred dollars and he didn't have half of that. The nurse had told him it was dangerous to share a bed with an infant because of the risk of suffocation, but Jess couldn't make money appear out of thin air.
He glanced down at his son, whose eyes were wide open, taking in all the new sites. "Guess Daddy will be sleeping on the floor for a while."
Lastly, he needed to grab some clothing. He made his way to the infant clothing and grabbed a few onesies with simple animal drawings or words like 'Adventurer' and 'future doctor'. As he pushed the hangers to grab the zero-to-three-month sizes, he noticed the other sizes. Three to six months, six to nine, eighteen to twenty-four. It wouldn't be long before he would be back here buying bigger sizes. It's not like his son would stay a tiny infant forever. He would learn to walk and talk and need space to run and scream and his own bed to sleep in. Sure, Jess could get by with scraping the barrel for a few weeks, maybe a few months, but things were going to change faster than he could imagine and he still hadn't completely come to terms with the monumental, life altering decision he'd just made.
What would Luke say if he were here? Would he be disappointed in him? Mad? Would he offer him help?
Jess slipped his phone out of his pocket and typed the number two, Luke's speed dial number. His thumb hovered over the green call button. Maybe if he called Luke and explained everything, Luke would understand. Maybe he would give him his job back and let him stay at the diner. Maybe even help him purchase a crib.
Jess sighed and placed his phone back in his pocket. He wasn't stupid. He knew what Luke thought of him. He thought of him as his dumbass nephew and Rory as his perfect daughter. He would yell at Jess, make sure he knew how much of a screw up he was, then convince Rory to come back and take their son far away from him. He wasn't sure he'd blame him, but he wasn't going to give him the opportunity.
He was going to find a job, get his son a crib and find some way to make this work for them.
When he arrived back at his apartment, there were three of his four roommates scattered around on their various mattresses, smoking weed, playing cards, doing things on Skype with girls that should be done in private. Jess placed his son on the floor next to his mattress and stripped it. He threw all of his stuff into a pile, then grabbed a clean sheet from Fred's, the only guy who does laundry, pile. He placed his comforter and pillow on the floor and stacked his books by the top end. It would look horrendous to anyone else, but to Jess it was enough.
Oliver started wiggling in his seat and, when he realized how much he was being restricted by the safety belts, started whimpering.
"No, no, no. It's okay. I'll get you out of there." Jess unbuckled the straps and pushed them aside, slid his hands under his son's head and butt, then lifted him into his arms. Holding him close to his chest seemed to calm his son's nerves for a moment, until all hell broke loose. He let out a loud whine that turned into a high-pitched cry. Jess stood and walked back and forth across his apartment, bouncing his son, but to no success.
"Dude, what the hell? Get that thing to shut up," his roommate Austin said before shoving his pillow over his head.
"I'm trying, just…give me a second." Jess laid his son on his mattress, then checked his diaper, which was still dry, so he grabbed a bottle, some formula and water and shook it up, but when he placed the nipple to his son's lips, he squeezed his face and turned away.
"Buddy, come on. Work with me here." He tried to get his son to take the bottle, but he pulled away and flailed his arms.
Austin lifted his head and groaned. "Jess, if you don't shut that kid up, I swear-"
Jess picked up his son and carried him out to the hall, his heart pounding as he walked to the front, getting as far away from the apartments as possible. He rocked his son back and forth, trying to get him to quiet down, but there didn't seem to be anything that would calm him.
"Come on buddy. I know this isn't a perfect situation, but I promise I'm gonna get us a better place soon." The baby screamed, his face red and Jess sighed as he realized he'd gone all of two hours as a father and he already had a miserable child. He didn't know his heart could ache as much as it had watching his son be upset. No wonder parents were tired all the time, they felt every emotion their kid did to a multiplied degree.
If this were one of his books, this would be a turning point for the main character. He would either decide that the right choice, the smart choice, was to give his son away and ensure he had a good life or go around doing anything in his power to give his son the life he never had. But this wasn't one of his stories, and he definitely wasn't a main character. He always thought of himself as the one who was reckless and got killed off with plenty of unused years of mischief taken from him. A life cut short that no one cared about.
He sat on one of the black folding chairs in the apartment lobby and that's when he felt the lump in his back pocket, giving him an idea. He kept one hand under his son's but and grabbed the book out of his pocket.
"Do you want me to read you a little Oliver Twist?" Jess asked as the boy calmed, ever so slightly.
"The suspense: the fearful, acute suspense: of standing idly by while the life of one we dearly love, is trembling in the balance; the racking thoughts that crowd upon the mind, and make the heartbeat violently," the baby stopped screaming, his cries reduced to tiny pouts, so Jess continued.
"and the breath come thick, by the force of the images they conjure up before it; the desperate anxiety to be doing something to relieve the pain, or lessen the danger, which we have no power to alleviate; the sinking of soul and spirit, which the sad remembrance of our helplessness produces; what tortures can equal these; what reflections of endeavors can, in the full tide and fever of the time, allay them." Jess placed the book on his lap then took his free hand and placed it on his son's back. The only noise coming from his son was from his slow, deep breaths.
"So, you like Oliver Twist, huh?" Jess asked, smiling. "Well, looks like we have something in common." Jess leaned his head over, so his cheek pressed against his son's forehead. "You know, I've always kind of seen myself in Oliver. He was given a bad hand and he tried to make something out of it." The baby's glance cast to his father. "I'm not saying you're a bad hand. No, we're a team. We share a hand and were gonna keep changing our cards until we make it a good one, huh?"
Jess knew he had to be imagining it, but he could've sworn he'd seen the hints of a smile erupt from the corner of his son's mouth.
"You like that, huh?" Jess lightly brushed his thumb against his son's chubby cheek. "What about Oliver? Doesn't that sound like a good name? Oliver?" Jess huffed. "Oliver Lukas Mariano. Wish the last name came with something other than a drinking problem and abandonment, but we'll change that. Cause no matter how hard things get, I am not abandoning you, you understand?"
Jess knew he couldn't comprehend his words, but Oliver definitely understood, because he was finally comfortable enough to close his eyes and fall asleep. Jess carried him back to his apartment and stayed up feeling his son's heartbeat against his chest, knowing that as long as he kept his boy happy, then he wouldn't be the failure everyone told him he'd be.