The Baby Project

Chapter Seven

“You can do this.”

            “I can do this.”

            “You’re strong.”

            “I’m strong.”

            “You’re fearless.”

            “I’m fearless.”

            “Now say it like you mean it.”

            “I’m fearless.”

            “Really? Because right now you sound like you’ve got a lot of fears.”

            Andrew let out a groan and slammed his head back against the back of the car seat. “This is hopeless,” he told me. “I’m not fearless. I can’t do it. And I’m weak.”

            “You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I’ve got through two nights on my own, haven’t I? It’s not that bad.”

            The two of us were seated inside his stationary car, meters away from my front door. The late afternoon sun was streaming in through the windows, not only bathing the car’s interior in a shade of gold, but suffocating us with stifling heat. I could already feel my thighs sticking uncomfortably to the seat. Tonight was due to be Andrew’s first night alone with the baby, and to say he was nervous was an understatement. In all honesty, I was surprised he hadn’t fallen at my feet, begging me to stay for support.

            “But you’re… you.” He turned to look at me, and I attributed my face’s rise in temperature simply to the weather conditions. “What if I can’t get it to stop crying? What do I do then?”

            “Andrew,” I said. “We’ve coped with this thing for almost five days. Sometimes it’s been harder than others, sure, but we’ve always managed to shut it up eventually. You’ll be fine. And if it’s really an emergency… just call me.”

            “Even if it’s three in the morning?”

            A grimace crossed my face at the thought of being roused from sleep by a call from Andrew and a screaming baby in the middle of the night, but I forced myself to nod. “Sure.”

            His face seemed to relax. “Okay.”

            “So I can get out of the car without you having a mental breakdown?”

            “Maybe.” As a smile lit up his features, my heart fluttered slightly. Since yesterday’s conversation at lunch, the awkwardness between us had reduced to a somewhat manageable level. I was finally beginning to feel at ease again. Sure, we’d had to walk down the halls holding hands to ensure our façade wasn’t totally transparent, but there had been no call for anything more drastic.

            Another kiss, for instance.

            Which, although obviously was a good thing, did leave me just slightly disappointed.

            I unfastened my seatbelt, the black restraint snapping quickly back into place. With a fleeting glance at the carrier strapped in the back seat, and the baby lying silently inside it, I snatched up my bag and opened the door. “Good luck,” I said, smiling reassuringly.

            “Thanks,” he replied. It was only as my sneakers touched the sidewalk and I was clambering out of the passenger door that his voice sounded again. “Wait, Avery–”