Chapter 16: Arianna
The morning after the party, I’m not sure I can move.
I glance at Dell. He’s still sound asleep.
My thighs are howling. My feet still hurt. And my head pounds from too many red Solo cups of beer ending up in my hand.
I hear a baby gurgle and look over at the Pack ’n Play to see Grace on her knees, face pressed against the mesh. When she sees she has my attention, she bounces on her knees.
“She’s up, isn’t she?” Dell asks with a groan.
“Been up a while, by the bright shiny look of her,” I say.
“Huh.” Dell presses the heel of his hand into his eyes. “Quite a night, wasn’t it?”
“My body thinks so,” I say. I squeeze my thighs, trying to calm down the burn. The muscles are tight. “We might have danced more than we’re used to.”
He laughs. “I don’t think we’ve ever danced.”
“There was that one night,” I remind him. “In France.”
“Oh, yes,” he says. “That was an unforgettable night.” He turns to me, pressing his mouth against my neck. “That white dress.”
His hand roves across my belly.
Grace plops on her bottom and lets out a surprised cry.
His hand stills. “Right. Baby.”
We both sit up. And immediately, we both bring our hands to our heads.
“Cheap beer,” Dell says. “Let’s not do that again.”
“You get the aspirin, I’ll get the baby,” I say.
“Deal.”
I rise to a wobbly stance and take uncertain steps toward the Pack ’n Play. I’ve never been a partyer in any stage of my life, so this feeling is new to me.
I bend down to pick up Grace. She wiggles in my arms, ready to be active and playful. “You hungry, baby girl?” I ask. I hope a bottle will do for now, because I’m not sure I have the patience yet to attempt spooning baby food into her.
Dell returns from the bathroom. “Aspirin and Cheerios,” he says, holding up a bottle and a baggie. “I say toss a few in the playpen and go back to bed.”
“Aspirin or Cheerios?” I ask. I lift Grace into the air a few times, up and down, getting myself awake and making her giggle.
“I probably couldn’t tell the difference.”
I take the bag of Cheerios from him and move to the desk. I spread a blanket on it, then drop a few Cheerios. Grace sits wide-legged, leaning forward to grasp the bits in her pudgy fingers. She concentrates hard to get them to her mouth. Every time she makes it, she grins.
I sit in the chair in front of her so she can’t escape. The diaper bag is on the floor. I pull a bottle out of the side and mix the formula.
Soon, she’s leaning against me, bottle in the air, guzzling like there is no tomorrow. She’ll be out of using a bottle soon. We should start transitioning her to a sippy cup.
The idea that her baby time is so fleeting makes my eyes tear up. I sniffle, and Dell comes up behind me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just what you said last night. It’s going fast.”
“I think we’re doing a good job of putting life on hold for her,” he says.
I lay my hand over his on my shoulder. “We are.”
Grace drops the bottle and arches her back so she can peer up at us, milk dribbling down her chin. Then she burps spectacularly.
We laugh.
“That’s our girl,” Dell says, running his hands over her still mostly bald head. “When is she going to get some hair?”
“It’ll start coming in soon,” I say. “She’ll have long pretty locks soon enough, flipping them over her shoulder to look at boys.”
Dell groans. “I can’t even think about that. God. I’m going to have to strangle them all.”
His phone buzzes across the room, so he heads over. I gather the scattered Cheerios closer to Grace so she can try again to pick them up.
“Hey,” Dell says. “I didn’t figure you’d be up yet.”
I fuss with Grace’s sleeper, smoothing down the collar. I wonder who he’s talking to. Sounds like someone from the party. His brother? Cousin? Probably not his mother.
“Okay, yes, we’re busted,” he says into the phone, glancing at the clock. “We’re still in town.”
I stifle a laugh. Dell had told them we had an early flight. It’s after nine.
“Tell her we’ll be there. Yeah. Thanks for the heads-up.” He ends the call.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“That was Donovan. So they figured out we were lying about the early flight. Dad’s off to help set up for tonight’s races, but Mom doesn’t have to be there until late afternoon. She’s made a breakfast thing at the house. Donovan’s there, of course. And Marge and Travis.”
“So we’re going?”
“I guess so. We’re here.”
I hoist Grace up and turn to him. “I think it’s a good idea to spend a little more time with them. Last night ended up fine.”
“I know.” He rubs his bristled cheeks. “I want to find out who’s hired Donovan anyway. Make sure it’s a good company.”
The mattress gives as I sit next to him. “I like that you take care of him.”
“Our father sure isn’t doing it,” he says. “I’m going to go shower. I smell like my mother’s cigarettes.”
He heads toward the bathroom. I lie back on the bed and let Grace crawl around among the sheets. She’s happy to be there, navigating the hills of pillows and blankets like she’s climbing a mountainside.
Breakfast with the McDonalds. And Spencers. Maybe a quieter, smaller gathering will give me a better feel for how Dell grew up. Just when I think I know him pretty well, I discover a whole new trove of information to study.