Nick called Grissom's cellphone and informed him that he would be unable to come to work that evening.
"What? Why?" Grissom asked.
Nick lied as fast as he could. "I'm…I'm all congested. I have a bit of a fever and…I can't stop coughing. I think it might be bronchitis."
That was all Nick had to say. Grissom quickly permitted him the night off and directed Nick to call him tomorrow on an update of his health condition.
Once Grissom was out of the way, Nick decided to tend to more pressing matters. Ryder was still happily chewing on Nick's key ring in his car seat. Nick wondered how long he'd been sitting in that thing.
"Hey, buddy, maybe you'd like a change of scenery, huh?" Nick said, smiling. Ryder looked up at Nick with big brown eyes—oh, yeah, those were Rachel's eyes, big and round like an owl's and a beautiful sepia color.
Nick undid the straps to the car seat and peeled back the receiving blanket that was covering Ryder's lower body. He went into the adjoining living room and spread the blanket out. Very carefully, he lifted Ryder out of the seat. He was heavy—a good ten or twelve pounds. At least Nick knew he was not dealing with a newborn. Ryder, meanwhile, hung onto those keys for dear life until he was safely on the blanket. Nick placed him on his belly, but Ryder immediately rolled himself onto his back and continued to gnaw on the keys. Nick was amused.
"I should call you Flipper," he laughed.
Ryder removed the keys from his mouth long enough to respond to Nick with a, "Ha-ha."
If it was one thing Nick remembered about babies, it was that you should a) always support the head and b) never leave them alone. He quickly went back into the kitchen for the diaper bag and raced right back into the living room. He sat on the couch, keeping an eye on Ryder, and sifted through its contents.
There were two plastic bottles and a set of four rubber nipples, a can of formula, a few toys (Nick was relived to see teething rings—his keys would be saved), three additional receiving blankets, a supply of diapers and wipes that Nick figured would barely last a week, several changes of clothes (including a cloth bib) and about nine jars of baby food. This put a little bit of hope into Nick. Obviously Rachel didn't intend on staying gone for too long, or else she would have left more than what was in here, right?
When the bag was empty, Nick noticed another note taped to the bottom of the inside: Thank you, Snickers. Nick could have laughed. Of course this was a highly unorthodox way of asking for a favor, but what else would he have done? Left Ryder there on his doorstep? Taken him to an orphanage? This was his nephew, why wouldn't he take him in?
Nick watched Ryder entertain himself and contemplated his life right now. Okay, so he had Ryder for, what—a week or two? Then Rachel would return. What to do about work? Grissom was not going to take this lightly, he knew this. He could play up the bronchitis thing for maybe three days. He had enough sick days, he can forfeit a few for special purposes.
"Maa…maa…" Ryder insisted. He held out the keys to Nick.
"What?" Nick laughed. He got down on his knees on the carpet and settled beside Ryder. He took the keys from Ryder and handed him a teething toy that Rachel had tossed in the bag. Ryder didn't complain.
Nick returned to his thoughts. Now, why me? he kept thinking. He and Rachel had four other sisters and a brother Ryder could have been left with. Why would she chose him, the unmarried one? Or better yet, why wouldn't she leave him with their parents?
Well, all of this didn't matter now. Nick was the "chosen one" and he had Ryder in his life now, even if it was only temporary.
Getting comfortable, Nick stretched out on his belly and propped his head in his hands. Now that he was closer to his little nephew, Nick could definitely pluck out the similarities and the features Ryder had inherited from Rachel. He had her set eyebrows, wide forehead, the strong Stokes jaw line. As Nick was about to reach out and stroke the baby's soft downy head of dark hair much like his own, Ryder lashed his tiny arm out and bopped Nick on the nose.
"Ow," Nick winced as Ryder giggled his delight. "You little sadist."
"Dada?" Ryder asked inquisitively.
"No, I'm not your dad. I'm your uncle Nick."
"Da!" Ryder insisted.
"We need to find a place for you to sleep tonight," Nick mused aloud. "Come on." He stood and lifted Ryder up, who immediately began to drool all over Nick's Rice University sweatshirt. "Aw, man."
Ryder was amused; Nick not so much as he tried to mop it up with a spit-up cloth that had been in the diaper bag. He didn't think he would actually need to use that thing but it was a necessity to save his sweatshirt.
"This is the life of a bachelor, Ryder my man," Nick said as they ventured out of the living room, holding Ryder in a sitting position, facing out. "Get to know it well."
Wandering around the house for an hour proved fruitless and Nick was no closer to finding a place for Ryder to sleep than he was when he started his search. The only thing he could think of that would be considered somehow inhumane was to empty out a drawer in his dresser.
"This is going to be a problem," Nick said aloud. "Did your mom really think I was gonna have a crib lyin' around my house?"
A crib lying around the house…Nick could only think of one person who would have something remotely close to a crib in their house. He knew this meant blowing his cover, but he had no choice. Besides, he could use any help he could get at this point.
Cradling Ryder in one arm and picking up the phone in his bedroom with the other, he hit speed dial five—Catherine Willows.
"Willows," came the blonde's voice over the line after a couple of rings.
Nick took a deep breath and identified himself and, without pausing, blurted everything as fast as he could. When he was done, he waited patiently for a response. He was half-expecting Catherine to hang up on him and dismiss it as a joke.
Catherine paused for a beat and said, "I'll be right there, Nicky."