drifting off too. He inhaled, breathing in her scent as deeply as he could. Nights had always been the hardest after she’d left. Before rehab, he’d taken to sleeping on the couch to avoid the memories of her in his bed. Her skin was as soft as he remembered and her hair smelled like coconuts. He stifled a laugh as he remembered last year at this time when he’d asked her about it. “I have to hold onto summer somehow!” she’d told him.
Right before drifting off, Dalton felt a slight movement against his forearm. His eyelids fluttered open and he held his breath. After a few seconds, the baby kicked again. “Sorry,” he said automatically and re-positioned it. The baby kicked him again as if in response. Dalton lay still in the dark of the bedroom and considered this for a long moment. Could the baby actually hear him? That seemed… weird. But he supposed the baby did have ears. So he could hear them talk and… oh God! What if the baby really could hear? Then he’d heard everything they’d just done!
“Oh.” He quickly pulled his arm away and sat up. Zoey stirred only slightly.
Maybe babies could hear. If that was true, what else could they do? What else didn’t he know? Zoey was already zonked and so asking her wasn’t a good idea, but he had an idea. He tossed back the covers on his side of the bed and climbed out. He turned and replaced them carefully, tucking Zoey in before he quietly crept out of the room and headed down the hall to the guest room where her stuff was stashed. He flipped on the light and scanned the area. On the nightstand by the bed, he swiped the pregnancy book and sat down. He flipped through the pages, past the first month and second month. Strange pictures of creatures with tails assaulted his eyes. Babies had tails? He stopped and read that page.
Indeed, babies did have tails. For a while. Usually they lost it before they were born. Adam probably hadn’t lost his, though. Probably they’d had to remove his. He smiled at the thought.
Dalton continued to flip through the pages to discover that yes, the baby could hear them now. In fact the baby had been able to hear for months now. He frowned down at the page. Had the baby heard Patrick yelling at Zoey? Probably. Had the baby heard him hit her? Yes. The baby couldn’t understand it, but maybe babies were like dogs and could hear the tension and anger in a person’s voice. If that was true he was going to have to be more careful around Zoey. Dalton had already raised his voice a few times, although not specifically at Zoey, just at her situation in general. He wouldn’t have the baby scared in his presence. Not if he could help it at all.
He flipped to the “mom” chart and looked it over. By the seventh month expectant mothers were tired, got headaches, backaches, swollen feet and ankles, and sometimes had difficulty sleeping. Dalton wondered if he had enough Tylenol in the house for all that. Could she even take it? He flipped to the index to find out. Apparently there was a lot to know. Before he knew it a half hour had gone by. He had work in the morning so he memorized the last page number and put the book back on the table. He turned off the bedroom light and headed back down the hall.
He slipped into bed as gingerly as he could and snuggled in close to Zoey again. After a moment’s hesitation, he put his hand lightly on her belly. There was no movement.
“I’m Dalton,” he half-whispered, but he said it too softly. He cleared his throat and tried again, being careful not to wake Zoey. “I’m Dalton,” he repeated, just a bit louder. He spread his fingers over her belly and felt a tiny foot, or maybe it was a hand, connect with his palm.
“Hey,” he said, both amazed and also disappointed that he couldn’t think of anything more profound than that to say.
Chapter Seventeen
Dalton slipped out of bed in the early morning hours, careful not to disturb Zoey as she slept. He stepped into the shower and
Right before drifting off, Dalton felt a slight movement against his forearm. His eyelids fluttered open and he held his breath. After a few seconds, the baby kicked again. “Sorry,” he said automatically and re-positioned it. The baby kicked him again as if in response. Dalton lay still in the dark of the bedroom and considered this for a long moment. Could the baby actually hear him? That seemed… weird. But he supposed the baby did have ears. So he could hear them talk and… oh God! What if the baby really could hear? Then he’d heard everything they’d just done!
“Oh.” He quickly pulled his arm away and sat up. Zoey stirred only slightly.
Maybe babies could hear. If that was true, what else could they do? What else didn’t he know? Zoey was already zonked and so asking her wasn’t a good idea, but he had an idea. He tossed back the covers on his side of the bed and climbed out. He turned and replaced them carefully, tucking Zoey in before he quietly crept out of the room and headed down the hall to the guest room where her stuff was stashed. He flipped on the light and scanned the area. On the nightstand by the bed, he swiped the pregnancy book and sat down. He flipped through the pages, past the first month and second month. Strange pictures of creatures with tails assaulted his eyes. Babies had tails? He stopped and read that page.
Indeed, babies did have tails. For a while. Usually they lost it before they were born. Adam probably hadn’t lost his, though. Probably they’d had to remove his. He smiled at the thought.
Dalton continued to flip through the pages to discover that yes, the baby could hear them now. In fact the baby had been able to hear for months now. He frowned down at the page. Had the baby heard Patrick yelling at Zoey? Probably. Had the baby heard him hit her? Yes. The baby couldn’t understand it, but maybe babies were like dogs and could hear the tension and anger in a person’s voice. If that was true he was going to have to be more careful around Zoey. Dalton had already raised his voice a few times, although not specifically at Zoey, just at her situation in general. He wouldn’t have the baby scared in his presence. Not if he could help it at all.
He flipped to the “mom” chart and looked it over. By the seventh month expectant mothers were tired, got headaches, backaches, swollen feet and ankles, and sometimes had difficulty sleeping. Dalton wondered if he had enough Tylenol in the house for all that. Could she even take it? He flipped to the index to find out. Apparently there was a lot to know. Before he knew it a half hour had gone by. He had work in the morning so he memorized the last page number and put the book back on the table. He turned off the bedroom light and headed back down the hall.
He slipped into bed as gingerly as he could and snuggled in close to Zoey again. After a moment’s hesitation, he put his hand lightly on her belly. There was no movement.
“I’m Dalton,” he half-whispered, but he said it too softly. He cleared his throat and tried again, being careful not to wake Zoey. “I’m Dalton,” he repeated, just a bit louder. He spread his fingers over her belly and felt a tiny foot, or maybe it was a hand, connect with his palm.
“Hey,” he said, both amazed and also disappointed that he couldn’t think of anything more profound than that to say.
Chapter Seventeen
Dalton slipped out of bed in the early morning hours, careful not to disturb Zoey as she slept. He stepped into the shower and
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