Abby had been avoiding him, staying busy so she doesn't have to face him, so she doesn't have to hear whatever it is he wants to talk to her about. She doesn't know, but she's found that conversations that start with needing to talk tend to not go in her favor. To avoid him, she couldn't hang at home. To avoid him, she has to sit in her car, wait in the parking lot either at his job or Erin's apartment as she watches the live camera footage of Erin's living room. Nothing is happening, it's early in the morning, and she's parked outside the precinct, coffee cup in hand and donut in her other one as she comfortably rests and relaxes as the footage of Erin sleeping on her living room couch, with the baby in the bassinet most likely sleeping too.
She takes a sip of coffee, nearly choking on the hot beverage when someone knocks on her window. She frowns, immediately tossing her phone into the seat beside her, face down as she turns to see Jay, rolling down the window, shivering when the chill of the morning travels through her vehicle. She takes in the frown lines embedded on his forehead as he tries to make sense of why he sees her here at his job so early in the day, "What are you doing here?"
"Hey," she enthuses, reaching for the spare donut that was technically bought for her, "I got you breakfast and was going to drop it off," he doesn't seem like he believes her and she can't have that, "I was working up the courage to go in but then I didn't see your car and I figured I'd wait for you to get here," he's still hesitant but he's starting to come around, "I didn't expect you to see me first, sorry I'm a bit more observant than that. Surprise is ruined."
Jay hesitantly takes the bag from her, whispering his thanks before his eyes travel to the rest of her vehicle, "When did your car get so junky?" Since she started doing stakeouts inside of it, but of course Abby can't answer saying that, so she ignores his question with the roll of her eye and tries to send him on his way, reminding him that he does have work to get to, yet he doesn't heed her warning and he remains, "What were you looking at on your phone? You tossed it fast."
"I'm embarrassed to say," she manages to blush on cue, "it's one of those girly soap operas you don't watch. I've gotten into it recently and I'm a bit embarrassed about it."
He buys it, like he always does because she doesn't have a history of lying to him like he does with her. He buys it because he wants to see the good in her like he does with everyone. He looks from the phone to her, back to the phone and then to her again before changing the conversation, "Now that I have you, I've been meaning to ask you something."
"Oh, I have to go, I'm already running a bit behind but I need to head to work," she lies in an effort to avoid whatever it is he wants to say to her. Please don't break up with me, she chants over and over in her head, crossing her fingers and crossing her toes for better luck.
"I'll be quick," he stands, no longer hunched over to be face to face in her window, choosing instead to rest his free hand on the top of her car to lean against it, "it's about therapy."
Now she really doesn't want to hear what he has to say, "I uh, I know babe but my boss has been really up my ass about being on time and I should really head into work." She has no work, she thinks, she got fired for missing too many days and she's now on unemployment.
"I'm interested in going to therapy."
She forces herself to take a deep breath, finding herself growing annoyed that he won't let her escape. She thinks he's trying to wiggle his way into having couple's counseling.
"Jay-" she prepares to make up another lie to get out of this conversation.
But he interrupts her, "I just want a referral or a contact number. I figured it's better if I go somewhere familiar and since you go there already then it's convenient," he reads her silence wrong and his response is based on what he thinks is behind her expression, "I know I helped you find the therapist but that was months ago, it was so long ago, I don't even remember the name of the practice or have the number," he hears his name being called and looks over to his partner waving for him to come because apparently they got a case, "I got to go Abs, but text it to me when you get a chance, thanks," he pats the top of her vehicle before jogging off.
She remains sitting, absolutely dumbfounded and stupefied. He's interested in going to counseling, not as a couple but for himself. He wants individual therapy, he wants sessions without her, and now she doesn't know how she feels about that. Until suddenly she remembers what he has asked of her, he wants the contact information for her therapist. The therapist she does not meet with, the therapist she does not have, for a practice she does not visit. Abby runs her hands up and down her face before running them through her hair. She's always one step ahead but this she did not expect. She has to think quick on her feet, but the sound of knocking on a door pulls her away from her present situation to alert her to the live footage on the phone.
Abby lifts her phone to see Erin wake up. She sees the new mother drag her feet along her living room carpet to the front door, unlocking each latch practically in slow motion. She sees the door swing open but Erin's body blocks her view of the visitor. And that's probably a good thing because the look on Kim's face, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head at the sight of her best friend's appearance would have made Abby cackle. Erin's hair, obviously unwashed and a tad bit tangled sat disheveled around her head. The shirt on her body, about three sizes too big swallowed her petite frame up, sporting a diversity of stains that Kim can assume all were contributed by the newborn. An impression made by the crease in her pillow was now identically made in the side of Erin's cheek. There was a sock on her foot while the other foot didn't have one. She was a walking zombie and to spare her friend any further embarrassment she overlooks the disarray of her living room to walk Milo inside.
"I miss my bed," Erin groans, shutting the door behind her best friend and leaning forward to rest her forehead against it, "I already can't wait to go to bed tonight."
"It's almost eight in the morning," Kim squats to unclip the leash from Milo's neck.
"I have absolutely no sense of time. I've woken up four times. I've gotten no more than two hours of sleep at a time," she vents. Once free, Milo rushes to his person, sniffing her feet, running circles around her before hopping onto his hindlegs to bring his front paws against her legs. Despite her exhaustion, Erin manages to channel enough energy to give her dog the welcome back that he deserves. She cups his jaw and allows the dog to lick excited kisses around her face. She'd be lying if she said it didn't give her a jolt of excitement to have her dog back, "I have missed you so much," she smiled as the dog started licking her hands, "yes I did, yes I did! Were you a good boy?! Yes, yes I knew you were!"
Erin sits on the floor, legs crossed and rubbing the belly of her pup. He has absolutely no idea that their lease figurately added another resident, they both gained a new roommate. She worries about how he'll react to her newborn but she's also anxious to introduce her favorite person and her favorite dog to each other. Kim looks over her shoulder, spotting the baby sleeping on her back in the bassinet, "She is knocked out, oh my gosh," Kim whispers to be mindful not to wake her, "I hate that I have to go to work. I want to stay here with her and hold her."
"If you wake her, I'll never forgive you." Erin says it with a smile on her face but the smile was more so directed at Milo, not Kim. Her friend backs away from the bassinet, hands in the air to show her that she comes with no ill-intent. Kim glances around the living room, already thinking of stopping by after work to at least introduce a vacuum to her best friend's carpet, but it seems she's needed in a different area when Kim spots the range of snacks lining the coffee table.
"I hope you're not getting by on junk food," she leans over and grabs a bunch of empty wrappers, "Twinkies Erin, the box is almost empty. Please tell me you've eaten a vegetable."
"Of course, I've eaten a vegetable, multiple ones of different colors thank you very much," Erin stands to snatch the wrappers from her hand, obviously feeling defensive, "I still have a few prepped meals left my mom stored for me but sometimes I don't have a chance to warm them up so I got to snack when I can, I'm sorry if I've snacked a bit too much for your liking but during these spare moments in my day, I use them to nap instead of cook, but I'm trying."
"Hey," Kim immediately pulls her best friend into her arms, "hey, I'm not judging you. I'll never do that, you know me. I'm sorry, it's too early to be funny, I was just ribbing you. When I get to work, I'm going to place an order for some breakfast to be delivered to you."
"You don't have to do that."
"Duh, I know that, but I want to. I'll get it from this new breakfast spot that just opened. I heard their biscuits n gravy is really good, I'll order that for you. And some orange juice, oh and a cronut those are really good, that's a croissant and a donut made together. All I ask for in return is to be sent a video of Milo and Emma meeting, I bet that's going to be the cutest thing ever."
Kim left just a few minutes later after setting up Milo's doggy bed back where it was prior to his vacation away from home and managing to clean off not only the coffee table, but the rest of the living room. Without her village, she'd be lost. Erin swipes up her last Twinkie, opening the wrapper before taking a bite of the cake, allowing the spongey goodness to soak into her tastebuds. She feels the cream filling cover the corner of her lip but considering her current appearance, she's in no rush to clean it off. Erin flops down on the couch, patting the spot next to her for Milo to hop up and once his head rests on her thigh, the two of them fall asleep until both of them are awakened by the baby crying in the bassinet.
It's the first time Emma was brought to Milo's attention. He tips his head, ears poking up as he focuses on the side of the bassinet. He obviously didn't know anything was inside of it. And when Erin leans in to scoop a baby out, he hops off the couch and rushes to his human's side to take a better look, obviously reminding Erin that they haven't met. And now is as good a time as any to at least start to bridge a relationship between dog and baby. She had just finished giving her newborn a sponge bath, something she has to do until the umbilical cord falls off and her naval heals completely. Regardless of what it's for and how long it takes, it's another opportunity for mom and baby to bond and Emma seems to really enjoy the caress of the sponge as it gently rubs unscented soap and water onto her skin. With Emma being awake, feeling calm and collected, Erin knew she needed to take advantage of this. She sets her baby down once she's dressed in a diaper and a towel and rushes to search for her cell phone.
She finds it in between two couch cushions.
Erin props her phone up, setting something behind it to give it the perfect angle and something below, in front of it to ensure it didn't slide down. Once it's stabilized, she holds her hands out, willing it to not move before pressing record and taking a few steps back. She'd managed to take a shower which lasted less than five minutes but it was worth it. She threw her damp hair up into a messy bun before stepping into a fresher set of pajamas. She pats her thigh, calling for Milo to come over before directing him to take a seat, "Good boy," she ruffles the top of his head before averting her attention towards the point of filming this video in the first place.
Disappearing from the camera frame, leaving the footage on to record Milo while she goes to unbuckle and lift her daughter from her swing, "hi munchkin," she nibbles and gnaws in the crook of her daughter's neck as she carries her into the camera frame, "okay," she says a bit hesitantly, a little worried about how this is all going to go down. Erin carefully takes a seat, settling her baby onto her lap, being mindful to hold up her head until she can situate and support it in the area between her bosom. Milo stands on all fours, obviously curious and suspicious of this tiny human and when he takes a step forward, Erin extends her hand, hinting for him to stay back until she's mentally ready to bridge the two worlds and also to guarantee her daughter's safety in the off chance that her dog doesn't respond well to her baby.
Erin looks up at the screen, seeing herself in the image of her phone as it records, "Okay excuse the mess that I am right now," she jokes in a self-deprecating way, "but Milo meets Emma today and he's obviously impatient so let's get this over with, come here boy," she pats the space next to her, encouraging Milo to approach. He sits beside her and she doesn't rush the next step, she takes her time, rubbing his neck, allowing him to relax and calm the excited energy built up in him. Emma remains resting in her mama's lap, head against her chest, stretching her mouth as wide open as it could go into a gummy yawn. She doesn't coax Milo to pay attention to Emma, she doesn't push for it, in her online search she found it's best to not force or rush it, instead, she waits and allows the seconds and minutes to tick on by until Milo finally acknowledges the baby.
She holds her breath as he leans in. He's being so careful with her like he knows she's fragile, like he knows he can't play or be rough. Despite what she sees, she remains on guard, prepared to react in any way the situation fits. And while she doesn't know what to expect next, she definitely doesn't expect her dog to take a whiff of her newborn's head before licking it and then walking away, moving on to grab his chew toy to bite on it as he lays on his doggy bed, absolutely content and happy to be back home. Just that quickly the introduction ends and it wasn't because of her or the baby, it was surprisingly because of Milo.
These moments don't come often, moments where her baby is up and content and does not need her mom's attention. She can already tell she's going to love these moments because they give her the opportunity to get something done around her home. She decides to get some necessary cleaning done while Emma rocks in her swing. By the time she cleans the living room, the baby had been rocked to sleep, and by the time she gets to the kitchen, mindlessly washing dish after dish, bottle after bottle, she zones out, thinking of who she is and the trajectory her life is going.
Reality sets in for her every single day, the reality of being responsible for keeping a tiny, sweet, little human being alive is something that is going to probably take the rest of her life for her to actually get used to, to actually come to terms with, to actually understand and accept. She's a stereotypical mom, she looks like a stereotypical mom, whatever they look like considering her present reality consists of unpredictable hormones and her mood fluctuating from calm and serene to a sobbing mess of a person desperately reaching and clutching for the tissues. She chuckles, cutting off the water once she finishes before drying her hands off on the dish towel and heading into the living room to tend to her now whining baby who is obviously in desperate need of a diaper change and a bottle. Her timing was impeccable, she didn't start fussing until her mama finished washing dishes. And as if on cue, Milo leaves his chew toy behind to walk beside her into the nursery, as if he expects to help in changing or nursing the baby.
Her days tend to go like that. Emma isn't the only one getting into the groove of a routine, she's putting her mom on one too. And by the time the hour hand lands on the number eleven, almost reaching a new day, the baby is down and Erin goes down a few minutes after her, hoping to be granted at least four hours of sleep. Yet that hope, that wish doesn't come to fruition when only an hour later she's pulled from her slumber similarly to how she was pulled earlier today.
Erin knows, she knows, that she told him he can come over whenever he wanted to see the baby, but she didn't expect for him to do it without a phone call, unplanned and late at night. Her little one was only two weeks old; she'd spent more time in her mother's womb than in the actual world and Jay had found himself making late night, unannounced visits more often than not, especially the days following her mom's departure. It was close to midnight, close to marking the fifteenth day since her baby's birth. She had a vocal kid who had the lungs of an opera singer. She had a kid that took cat naps, sleeping no more than a few hours before she released a high-pitch scream. And Erin had quickly learned –with the helpful guidance of her mother- that when her baby is asleep then she should be too.
She's sleep-deprived. She's still a little hormonal. And she's not happy at the knocking at her front door, causing her to rise from a deep slumber she had fallen into on the couch. He must have lost his keys, otherwise he would have let himself in. At least his knock wasn't loud enough to wake the baby. A few nights ago, when he visited and knocked and it woke up the baby she had just put to sleep, was a night Jay would never forget since it led to a loud reprimand followed up by the silent treatment for the rest of the day. The smallest part of her still holds a grudge for that, but it's the most childish part of her because she knows it wasn't his intention.
Erin yanks the door open, "You seriously need to start calling first," she leans her head against the opened door. Eyes are closed. Her mouth stretches open into a wide yawn.
"Hey beautiful," he greets, leaning forward to kiss her cheek before squeezing himself between her and the little space she left for him to enter, "It's quiet. That means she's asleep."
"…she's been sleep for about an hour; I've been asleep less than that." She shuts and locks the door. She follows him into the living room and he takes a seat in the arm chair while she lays back down on the loveseat, willing for sleep to take over once again.
Milo lies in his dog bed. He only opens his eyes and lifts his head to see who interrupted their nap before lying his head back down and shutting his eyes. His sleep had been impacted too by the addition of the new baby. He found himself following somewhat of the same schedule as his human, -napping whenever the baby slept. It was an adjustment for all of them.
The baby monitor sits on the coffee table in front of her, angled in a way that allows her to see her sleeping newborn. Jay picks it up and sets it in his lap to watch, "I can feed her when she wakes up again."
She yawns, "I forgot to pump." And it wasn't on purpose. She'd been so busy with the baby that finding time to do anything besides change diapers, breastfeed, burp, cuddle, comfort, sing lullabies and rock her in her arms had been a challenge. And if she did have time, it was for nothing but sleep. She hadn't even had a moment to give herself a deep wash.
"How about you go back to sleep? I have everything covered." There's guilt that haunts behind his eyes. He should be here. He should be just as tired.
"…but, but," Erin yawns, struggling to fight against the pull of sleep; it's such a beautiful temptation, "she's going to need me."
"I think she'll be fine for a little bit without her mother," and when Erin opens her mouth to object, Jay beats her to it, "and if she's hungry or needs you, I'll wake you up."
There was comfort in that. And she found herself fast asleep only seconds after he gave her his word that he'll wake her up at a moment's notice if the baby needed her.
Jay stared down at the black and white image on the video monitor, watching as their baby slept so peacefully. Her tummy rose and fell with each breath she inhaled and exhaled. It was another half an hour later that her eyes opened and she emitted a whine. It wasn't an opera scream that they're so used to hearing, this time it was something smaller, a whine that they'll eventually learn the reason behind as they dabble in this parenting thing a little longer.
He sat the video monitor down on the coffee table. And he didn't waste a second getting up and going into his daughter's nursery. He wanted her to know him, to recognize him. He visited every day since she was born and he had no intention of stopping. Abby may not have been happy with it, but this was Emma, this wasn't just some random woman on the street or a coworker or distant relative, this was his baby. She came first. She'll always be first.
"Hi angel," he greets as his hands circle around the edge of the crib and he peers down. She looks so small, so innocent and fragile. She takes up a small percentage of the space the crib offers. She's so tiny. She yawned and he saw her little mouth stretch open with such vigor and her little hands are balled into fists, stretching above her head before lowering.
He leans into the crib, sliding one hand under her head and the other under her behind, bringing her up against his chest and cradling her in the crook of his arm, "you are the prettiest baby I ever did see," he brushes his lips against her cheek, "I love you so much, Em." As she rested in his left arm, head propped up and secured by the crook of his elbow, his right hand adjusted the warm onesie her mother had dressed her in after a warm bath.
Tiny fingers curled around his pinky. Her bright green eyes, filled with such innocence had connected to his, boring into his matching eyes and into his soul. She had a good grip. It was firm and tight. Jay held her against his chest and rocked side to side, quieting the murmurs and light whines in an effort to buy Erin a little more time. Jay enjoyed moments like this; he finds it harder and harder to be away with every day that passes. He doesn't want to miss the big things, the milestones, but he knows living with his girlfriend may lead to it.
He knew that he would eventually have to choose and if Abby approached him with the ultimatum, he wouldn't hesitate to pick. The answer was obvious. Just looking into his daughter's green eyes, the ones she inherited from him, reminded him that he has an innocent being to love, to shelter and to protect and nothing or no one would come before her.
The rocking only comforts her for another twenty minutes before the opera lungs –as they like to call it- comes out and reinforces the reason behind the nickname. Her diaper's clean. She's hungry. And he knew he would have to wake Erin up, but she was one step ahead, maybe it was her mommy sensor but she came walking into the room, arms open and ready to take the baby from his arms. He moved to the side, not wanting to get in her way as she took a seat in the rocking chair, popped out one of her boobs –he looked away to give her privacy- and brought the baby close, caressing the side of the baby's face to encourage her to latch on.
She looked like such a professional as she breastfed their daughter. And if he were to say that out loud, then Erin would laugh because she surely didn't feel like one. Since Emma had been born, it didn't feel like he and Erin had been on the same page. Erin and Emma were developing a routine together, -without him. He'd be lying if he didn't say he felt left out. He thinks to what brought him here, knowing a large part of it was because he missed Emma and the other part was a topic that he'd been avoiding knowing it would lead towards a slight disagreement between them, yet he can't avoid it forever and it would serve him better to hash it all out now.
"How would you feel about Emma staying with me maybe for one or two nights a week?"
Erin doesn't expect that at all. She nearly chokes on air.
"You want to do overnight visits with her," Erin says more to herself than to him, as if to process his request, "she's not ready for that, she's still so young and I'm still nursing. You don't even have the things she needs. Where will she sleep? What happens when you go to work? How will you entertain her or soothe her when she's not hungry, tired or need her diaper changed?"
"I've been browsing bassinets among other baby things."
"That's not enough."
"What will be enough for this to happen? I'm ready."
"If I'm being honest, I don't really feel comfortable letting her out of my sight right now."
"It's not about what you're comfortable with; it's about making sure Emma has a relationship with both of her parents." He knows it's natural for Erin to be protective, its practically basic instinct, especially for a new mother of a defenseless newborn, but he is her dad. He can and will protect her too; she's just as much his baby as she is Erin's and it's time, he reminds her of that.
Erin is anxious, just the thought of being separated from her baby right now sends her hormones into overdrive and has her thinking of every possible worst-case scenario. She continues to breastfeed while using the back of her finger to gently caress and encourage the baby to continue eating. It's silent for a moment, granting Erin the opportunity to ruminate on his words before being compelled to respond truthfully, "One of the hardest things about co-parenting, especially when we were never in a relationship is not only developing trust but keeping it. I mean Jay," she looks up at him, eyes wide with desperation and worry, "you're asking me to hand over the most valuable, vulnerable and precious part of my life, my baby, my child," a teardrop falls onto Emma's face from her mother's eyes, and as if she was a fragile, porcelain doll, she uses the pad of her thumb to carefully wipe it away before finishing, "babies need consistency to form a routine, every article and book I have read said to not move houses too frequently when babies are young. She's not even a month old yet. You said it's not about what I'm comfortable with, and you're right, but it's also not about what you're comfortable with either. It's about Emma."
Jay lowered himself to his knees to become eye level with her, his own eyes becoming tearful as he practically pleads for her to understand, to know that he's not trying to take Emma away, to interfere with her parenting or to cause problems, he just wanted to see his kid more. That isn't a crime. Or an insult. It's just him being honest, it's something he'd been thinking about since the baby was discharged from the hospital. It's one of the reasons he came over so late, besides missing his daughter, he always misses her, he wanted to come over and hash out a better coparenting relationship, to fight his peace and make his point without backing down.
"I love the way you love her, Er, the way you protect her," he sets his hand on her knee, urging her to look at him, "I couldn't have asked for a better mom for Emma. I'm not asking so you can see her less, I'm asking so I could see her more," he watches as she bites her lip, obviously considering his words and taking them to heart, and he figures this is the best time to throw out another option, "Instead of her staying with me once or twice a week, how would you feel about me staying in the guest room? At least until she starts sleeping through the night." He wanted to be a part of this. He wanted to contribute. He didn't want to be an absent parent; he refused to be anything like his father. And he was far off the path of being anything like his old man.
Erin rocks back and forth in the chair, protectively holding and breastfeeding their daughter as she looks up to meet his eyes in the dark room, "I would be fine with that. I definitely need the help, but what would Abby think? They haven't even met each other."
He's glad she brought that up because he'd been beating around the bush on that particular topic.
"We're trying to figure some things out," he sighed, moving to take a seat on the ottoman in front of her. It rocks too. He keeps his answer vague, something he's been doing a lot lately.
"…don't tell me the two of you are on another break. You see where the last one got you." And just in case he didn't pick up on the obvious answer, she nods her head down towards the baby in her arms, the baby that may drive her insane but she doesn't regret. She'll never regret her.
"No, I don't think we're going to do that again, but uh, it's…it's hard for me to be away," he admits, rubbing his hand against the back of her onesie; the cotton fabric is comforting to the touch, "to be away from her," he finds himself clarifying, "I miss her every time I leave. It takes me hours to fall asleep because all I think about is what she's doing. I keep thinking I'll miss a major milestone. I won't see her first laugh, her first word or step."
"She's only two weeks old."
"…but still Erin," he exclaims in a lower tone to be mindful of the baby that is dozing back off in her arms, "I want to be here or I want her to be with me." Maybe joint custody, he's thinking.
"She needs her mother."
"I agree," he nods affirmatively; the last thing he wants to do is separate them, "but she needs her father too. What if…what if we rotate weeks? I take her for one and you do the other."
"That's a lot of movement and exposure for a newborn, Jay."
"What about every two weeks and then I take her for one?" He's trying to compromise, but it seems that's not Erin's mission in this conversation.
"Have you spoken to Abby about this?" She waits patiently, breaking her eyes away from the infant only to meet his for a split second; she knew the answer to her own question, "the two of you live together, Jay. You can't just bring a baby over for a week and not tell her. And what kind of role does she even want in Emma's life? I mean…I know the two of you pretty much avoided all talk of my pregnancy during the nine months but the baby's here now and Abby can no longer pretend like she doesn't exist."
Erin looked back down when she felt her daughter's lips disconnect from her breast. She recovered herself before rising to her feet and carrying her daughter over to her crib. Erin knows herself; she knows that Emma will eventually be moved from the crib in the nursery to the bassinet in the master bedroom. She's never slept a full night in her nursery. She missed her kid too much. Erin carefully laid her sleeping newborn down before waving for Jay to follow her out of the room, "I think she needs consistency right now," Erin is talking in reference to Emma, not his girlfriend; she honestly couldn't care less about what Abby needed, "it's too soon for her to be without me right now. It's too soon for me to be without her. I can't agree to that, Jay."
To be honest, Erin didn't want her baby out of her sight. She's attached. She's a new mommy and just going into the other room sometimes proves to be difficult because she's so clingy to her infant right now. She couldn't imagine being away from her for an hour nevertheless a night. And she didn't particularly trust Abby, especially around her daughter, unsupervised. Call her paranoid but her daughter looked like Jay and she was a constant reminder to Abby on what they did and if the girl ever snapped, she wouldn't have her kid be the victim of it. Every fiber of her being told her not to trust Abby and she learned time and time again that she should trust and follow her gut. There was something off about her.
"We need to work something out because I need to see her."
Erin blinks out of her reverie. She's still tired, "And you will, but she's so young right now, it's not good to pack her up every other week and send her off. You can come over to see her whenever you want, I'll never keep her from you. And with your work schedule, if there's a case, you'll be called in at random hours of the night."
"I can leave her with Abby and then you can pick her up in the morning," he offered; he was desperate for a chance to bring his daughter home with him, to what should be her second home.
"I really don't think that's a good idea," she whispered, head held low as she avoids eye contact as she moves past him to grab the video baby monitor from off the coffee table. He follows her into her bedroom and when she flicks on the bedroom light, he saw the state of her quarters.
"…why not?"
It was too late to argue. The last thing she wanted to do was insult his girlfriend or put him in a place where he felt the need to defend her. But, Erin had opened the can of words and the one thing she prided herself on besides her confidence was her integrity, "I don't trust her." She notices his eyes take in the disheveled state of her bedroom, forcing her to embarrassingly grab an empty hamper and start throwing her clothes that were scattered all over the floor into the hamper, "excuse the mess, it's hard to keep a tidy house when there's a newborn in the home."
"If we rotate weeks, I can make it more manageable," he tried again.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the other empty hamper, it's smaller and she holds it out to him, "that's for the baby's laundry," she nods towards the burp cloths, the worn and crumbled clothing and the socks, bibs and blankets, "and that's okay. I have it all under control."
"You're not a single mother, Erin."
She drops the basket at her feet, "Actually, that's exactly what I am. I'm single and I'm a mother; that pretty much sums it up perfectly."
He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while the other held the empty hamper, "That's not what I meant. I just meant that you're not alone in all of this. I'm here. I want to help. I want to be in Emma's life just as much as you will be. That's all I'm saying."
"Are you going to fill the basket?" She points towards it. He doesn't answer her question with words; he answers it with action as he turns to start tossing the baby's items into the hamper.
"Maybe we can revisit me staying over some nights in the guest room? You were more open to that idea." He holds up a burp cloth to see it stained with spit up. His face is scrunched up as he drops it into the hamper, "I can help out with some of the cooking and cleaning and taking care of the baby." He reapproaches the part where they last left off in agreement with each other, "and Abby wouldn't mind. It's for Emma. She'll understand."
"…then I think that's a good idea, a better idea."
With the clothing picked up, her room appeared to be more presentable. Erin moved towards the empty bassinet and pushed it as close to her bed as possible. She had every intention of moving her newborn –who, for some reason, couldn't sleep longer than three hours at one time- to her room to make her life a little easier. In her exhausted state, she dragged her feet over to her bed and flopped down to stare at the grainy screen of the video monitor. It was at the perfect angle to watch her angel sleep, to watch as her chest rose up and down with each small breath.
"...you said," he cleared his throat as he moved to take a seat next to her, being mindful to keep a respectable amount of space and distance between the two of them, "you mentioned that you didn't trust Abby," he waits for her to nod; the baby monitor still kept her attention, "why?"
Even with the question posed, she didn't look away from the screen. She simply turned up the volume on the monitor as she answered, "I just don't have a good feeling about her."
"I know her. Abby is harmless. And you should let Abby meet Emma so you can see for yourself and feel comfortable about Emma staying the night in the future. You can trust my judgment."
"That may be true, but I just have this feeling about her. And I don't want you taking this the wrong way but you don't see Abby for who she is and that impacts your judgment. I'm sorry but if Abby is around Emma, then you need to be there too. She has to be supervised the entire time and I mean it, don't even leave Emma with her to go to the bathroom."
"Abby wouldn't hurt a baby; she wouldn't hurt Emma."
"You're thinking from there," she points to his crotch, "instead of there," she points to his head. And he doesn't reply or retort a response. He just stands up and stretches, patting his pockets in search of his keys. She knows he'll be going soon. It's how it always goes.
Erin stands to her feet after setting the monitor down onto the end table. She follows him out of her bedroom and the padding of their feet wakes Milo. He doesn't just lift his head this time. He stands up, walking with heavy footsteps over to sit at his human's feet. She followed him to the door and Milo follows behind her. Jay pats the dog on the head, "Goodnight boy." And Milo barks just once, but it's enough, it's always enough, to wake up their future opera singer.
She cringes, but at least, Jay and her trained dog have the decency to look apologetic. She waves Milo away and the dog makes his way to the nursery, sitting outside the door because he knows the routine. He knows that when Emma cries, Erin will come. Jay truly does feel bad; it's late and by the dark circles under the new mother's eyes, it's obvious she hasn't and doesn't even plan to get much sleep, "I can stay longer." Emma's cries force them to table all conversation related to the topic of the night, redirecting their energy and focus onto what matters.
"Thanks for the offer, but you should go home," she says, forcing a smile to grace her face. She didn't want him to feel guilty for leaving. He has to work early the next day. She pats his chest before reaching past him to open the door, "And not to mention, Abby probably won't be too happy about that. I have everything handled on my end."
He waves off the concern, "Abby will be fine. She knows that Emma comes first."
"It's late," she reminds him and now Milo is growing impatient because that protective urge within him grows as he feels powerless in the quest to soothe Emma. Her nursery door is closed. He can't get in so he chooses to bark which is followed up in seconds with a growl, "I don't want you falling asleep behind the wheel and it's past midnight and you have work in less than six hours. Go home and please get some sleep for the both of us."
"Are you sure you have everything handled?" He nods behind her, referencing the barking dog and the crying baby. What has she gotten herself into?
"I'm positive. Milo will stop barking as soon as I open the nursery door. He can't see inside and he's worrying. He's super protective of our little one," Jay smiled at her words, "and as for Emma, she just needs some motherly love and she'll be right back to sleep, this time in her bassinet though because that's where I'm taking her."
"…and tomorrow when I come over maybe we can talk about days that I can spend the night."
"Yeah, we can do that. That's a good idea."
He doesn't feel so bad for leaving now. And he knows the sooner he's gone, the sooner she can close the door and go to see the baby, "Make sure you lock up and put the chain on the door."
"Yes detective," she smiled. He leans forward to kiss her cheek before walking away.
The door is shut and as she agreed, she locks the bottom lock then the top before finally chaining the latch. She didn't live in the safest neighborhood, but it wasn't the worst. It was safe in comparison to other areas of Chicago and it was reasonably priced. She pushes herself away from the front door and walks, with a sort of pep in her step, towards the nursery. Nudging Milo away with her leg, she moves to open the door and her dog runs through her legs in his quest to get inside of the nursery to make sure the baby is okay.
"She's okay, Milo," Erin soothed her dog just as she reached into the crib and lifted up her wailing daughter. And just as she told Jay, the love and comfort from her mother did the trick. She must have been startled awake by the dog's bark. So, she cradles the small infant to her chest and walks out of the nursery and to her bedroom with Milo at her feet.
And on this night, like the many nights that will follow since Emma came home, the three of them all slept together under the same roof in the same room with Emma in her bassinet, Erin sleeping on the side of the bed closest to her daughter and Milo curled up at her feet.