What, you thought the angst would really be over just because of Philip's cuteness? We got angst for days, y'all. I love that everyone enjoyed Lafayette in the last chapter, he's such a fun character. Mimi, to answer your question: he's French, he believes the solution to most problems is a good meal and he knows that at his core, what John wants is to be taken care of and feel loved. It's not so much like a turn-on as just someone to make you feel valued and cared for. Can't wait to hear what you think of the RETURN OF THE ANGST! I'm going out of town this weekend again... *whispers* to see Hamilton, so I may be updating less again as I'm out on the road so your patience is appreciated. Thank you eternally for the support and love for my work!
"Come on, baby. Papi really needs to work. You've been fed, your diaper's clean, we've played and sang and read. Please, Philip, just let papi do some work." I bounced the crying baby to no avail.
I stood up and continued to bounce him, he settled and smiled up at me.
"We better now?" I quirked an eyebrow.
As soon as I sat back in my office chair the crying started again. I swallowed and took a deep breath, dragging a hand over my face.
"How do I fix this, Philip? What do you need? You want to be by yourself? Am I the problem?" I put him on the floor next to me and he shrieked, hands reaching out and grasping for me.
I picked him back up and snuggled him against me, he pushed away from my chest and continued to sob in jagged gasps. I stroked his curls, desperate to make the crying stop, it shattered me, crumbled my heart to broken pieces to watch his lip tremble.
"Oh, hijo, okay, you're fine. Stand back up?"
I stood and the crying stopped almost immediately, "okay, I get it. We stand."
I had to get this piece done today. I carried Philip into the nursery and retrieved his BabyBjörn carrier. I set him on his changing table - the screeching commenced - and worked as quickly as I could to strap it to myself, it was much harder to do alone than when John was there to help me. I secured it and held Philip against me and strapped him into the carrier. He lay his head against my chest and babbled, now content. Back in the dining room-turned-study I cleared off a tall shelf on my bookcase and set my laptop in the open space and worked standing, bouncing from foot to foot. Philip babbled happily and pulled his arms through the straps of the carrier, using the new range of motion to pat my face. This is okay, though. This is quiet. I can work around this.
The words flowed easily through my fingers. While I still preferred to handwrite, time had become more of a precious commodity. I pressed little kisses to the top of Philip's head, gently resting my chin there while I worked. Philip clawed his way into my mouth, his little fingers poking at my gums and teeth.
"What are you doing?" I asked him in a garbled voice, not breaking pace with my keystrokes.
He babbled a response and I made a chomping noise, closing my lips around his hand, he giggled in delight. I shifted our weight to my other foot and kept working, leaning around his head to drink my coffee.
Philip continued to poke at my face… mouth… nose, rubbing his forehead against my goatee, one of his favourite pastimes, amused by the tickling sensation of the texture. He continued to babble and I started reading what I was typing out loud just to give him something to listen to, I liked the audience and the pediatrician had suggested that the more we talked to him the quicker and deeper his bond with us would become. We stood and worked for an hour. I was able to finish the project and sent it on its merry way to James.
"Okay, hijo. Can papi sit now? We can play and take a break."
I let him out of the carrier and set him down on his playmat with his toys and raised my hands over my head, feeling my vertebrates stretch and pop as I did. My phone rang and I answered it, putting it on speakerphone.
"'Sup?" Philip babbled behind me.
John laughed, "hi you, eye doctor called, your glasses are in, want me to go get them on my way home?" He'd been right about my eyes, and my 20/70 prescription confirmed it.
Philip squealed, hearing John's voice and sat himself up reaching for my phone.
"You mind?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, realizing the headache that had formed from squinting at my computer.
"Nope, not at all."
Philip reached more desperately for the phone.
"Someone wants to talk to you," I chuckled and held the phone out to Philip who babbled into it, mostly vowels and spluttery raspberries.
"Hi, baby. Hi Philip. Are you being good? Daddy'll see you tonight, okay? I love you!"
Philip pointed at the phone and stared at me in wide-eyed shock. I raised my eyebrows back in mock surprise.
"Talk to you later, querido." I hung up and Philip started crying… again.
"Coño." I sighed and blew out a breath, picking him up to no avail.
"Let me guess, more standing?" I strapped the carrier back on and put the crying baby in it against my chest. He settled once I stood up, "well, this is fun, isn't it?"
He pulled at my hair, his grip stronger than ever, I looped it up into a bun out of his reach and tried to get more done, feeling anxious about how far behind I was, maybe not behind, but I certainly wasn't ahead where I like to be.
We spent the next two hours alternating between me reading to him… while standing. Me working… while standing. Me singing to him… while standing. John got home and Philip kicked his feet, clapping his hands down on my chest, head wobbling. I was still standing, working at my computer from its new home on my bookshelf.
"What's this?" John giggled taking in the sight of my new workspace.
"He won't let me sit down. We've been standing all day." I grumbled and shook my head, noting how heavy it felt after hours of the baby being strapped to me.
"I'm sorry. Come here, baby, let's give papi a break from you, crazy head." He helped Philip out of the carrier and the infant's disposition changed immediately, all smiles.
"What the hell?" I rolled my eyes.
"Sorry, babe. Probably just the change of scenery. Are you okay? You look kind of rough."
"Long day."
"I'm sorry, Alex. I wish I could be here more."
I sighed and rolled my shoulders. John put his cheek on Philip's forehead, I noticed his face.
"Everything okay?" I asked him.
"Has he felt warm today?"
I shrugged, "not really, no more than usual that I noticed."
"Come here."
I put the back of my hand on Philip's cheek, he smiled at the touch, "he's a little warm."
John squinted at the baby's mouth and ran his finger around it and grinned at me, "I think I know why he's been fussy all day for you."
I furrowed my brows and ran my finger around the inside of his mouth and felt the little bump, front and center on his bottom gums. I smiled at John, "is that-"
"-he's working on his first tooth."
"That explains so much, I'll get him some Motrin."
John nodded and snuggled Philip to him, I got the motrin and fixed the appropriate dose.
"Hey, let me make you some dinner? I know you had a long day."
"That would be great."
"I think we have a teether in the freezer." He went and retrieved it, popping it into Philip's mouth.
I played with him on the floor and watched him work the teether over his gums. Idiot. All you needed to do to make him better. Couldn't do that. I played peek-a-boo with him and John called me to dinner where I sat on the edge of the counter, giving him the desk chair, letting him feed Philip for the first time today.
"I really need to get some work done." I sighed.
John nodded and started to hurry to finish his meal to give me my desk back.
"I'll just work on the couch." I put my plate in the sink and grabbed my laptop and papers, retreating to the living room.
"Hey, get your glasses, they're in my bag."
"I'll worry about it later."
I started working, reference papers scattered around me. John bathed the baby and put him down for bed, poured himself a glass of wine and came into the living room. I was fully immersed in my work. He moved some of my papers to the table and sat beside me.
"I was using those." I grumbled, wishing I had any work space.
"Oh, sorry. I just wanted to come sit by you and talk to you." He put his arm behind my head and ran a hand over my neck.
"That's very sweet of you, but I have to get caught up." I picked up the papers, my movements a little bit more sharp and angular than I wanted them.
"Okay, I'll just sit by you."
I blew out a breath and read the papers in my hand, still typing the information one-handed as I held them to read since my workspace had rapidly diminished, I reached for the pencil I'd set beside me where he sat and found nothing but him, flustering me.
"Godammit, where's my pencil? You came in here and sat down and now my shit's all-"
He set his jaw - I'd pissed him off, good, yes, displace me while I work odd hours, doing the job I couldn't do earlier while you worked alone in your office, then get mad at me, great - and grabbed my head, pulling it towards him, he pulled the pencil free from my messy hair and handed it to me, I bit my lip and took it from his hand, shame not allowing me to make eye contact.
"You want to check your attitude?" He gulped back his wine and stood up, set his glass in the kitchen and padded off to our bedroom, I was sure I heard him mumble, 'asshole,' but it could have just been my demons talking.
I worked, too prideful, too tired, too busy to go to him. I stroked the keys like I was angry with them and not myself and itched for a long forgotten cigarette. Time drug on and I got to a point where I felt I'd done enough to go bed. I'd simmered down and had mostly forgotten about our spat.
I found him in bed, arms crossed, eyes wet, his chiseled jaw flexing.
"You're still mad? Why do you get to be mad?" I huffed, taking my clothes off to change for bed.
"Does it even matter?" He wiped his face with the heel of his hands.
"Well, yes… I don't want you just in here hating me for hours." I crawled into bed.
"I'm not even mad… I wish I was mad, it's not even about you," he curled up against me, wrapping his arms around my waist, "I feel like I'm failing the two most important people in the world."
I was taken aback as I suddenly tried to console him, "what? How?"
"Because you had such a bad day and I wasn't here and then I made things worse and made you mad. I just wanted to be by you. I'm not going to be there enough."
"I just… I'm just tired. You didn't do anything wrong, querido. I did have a long day, but it's a long day we wanted. We knew there would be hard days."
"Adams is such a jerk." He nuzzled into me.
"I know. I don't miss that shit for a minute. You had a hard day, too?"
He nodded against my chest. I sighed, feeling like an even bigger piece of shit, and stroked his hair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I whispered against his hair.
"Well, I did, but I pissed you off…" he trailed off.
I picked his chin up and pressed a kiss to his lips, "misunderstanding. I'm an asshole. Talk to me... Always talk to me."
He worried the inside of his cheek and knit his brows together, his voice was so small, "I'm being sent on assignment again."
"Okay. John, that's okay. We'll be fine. Where to? When? How long?"
He picked at the duvet, "I leave Thursday, going to Florida for the rover launch. Be gone for four days or so… but… but Philip's teething and won't let you work… and you look exhausted… I've had to be at work so much… He isn't even gonna know me."
"We can do four days, that's doable. Besides, you should be excited, you love space, that's really cool that you get to go. I'll take care of me, exhaustion is my blood type… and what do you mean he won't know you? How could he not, you're his daddy."
"But I'm gone so much."
"I would be, too, if I still worked with you."
He softened at this, "I guess."
"Besides, I was listening to you while you were giving him his bath, you singing to him was maybe the cutest shit I've ever heard, he loves you so much."
"Yeah?" He smiled at me hopefully.
I tucked a loose strand from his ponytail behind his ear, "yeah. We'll be okay, John."
"We'll be okay."
"And besides, you're set with orphan money, you get pissed enough at Adams just tell him to go fuck himself… It feels really good." I grinned playfully.
"God, I can only imagine… but I like working."
"I know… Just, it's an option."
He nodded, "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For having to go. For making you mad. For everything."
I turned off the lamp on the table and held him against me, "don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. I was the asshole."
"Okay," he sighed, "you're my asshole, though."
"And don't you forget it."