Chapter Thirty-One
Jason
I had to hand it to Lake: he been right. I had been apprehensive about writing for TV, but I had woken up for work every day actually excited to go. Not that I hadn't when I had been an anchor, but it was a different kind of work. Fewer hours, more solitary time, and a different product that finally made it on screen. Before, I had been the product. It had been my job to read the news, but I had always been attached to what I did on screen, me, the person I was even when the cameras would stop rolling. I couldn’t get away from it. I got a writing credit for my work with the show now, but I worked behind the scenes.
It was liberating in a weird way. Privacy meant a lot to the people who couldn’t have it. Jason Bowman wasn't the guy on the TV anymore. I was just me. The years in broadcast had been good, but I couldn't imagine having the hours that I had had at WRTC trying to live the life that I wanted now. Things had changed, and that was just how it went sometimes. I didn't want to be the guy on the TV; I wanted to be Shelby's partner, I wanted to be Damien's father. I had only ever seen myself in a box, one that happened ironically to be a television screen. I hadn’t really wanted out till I had gotten out. There was so much out there. There were so many other ways to make yourself happy.
I watched the clock at work all day, just waiting for two-thirty so I could finally leave. Today was going to be my first afternoon alone with Damien. Shel and I had arranged it so I picked him up around three-thirty or four; I needed time before getting him to get my place ready. That and I needed to get a car, so I could pick him up and drop him off safely. Since Shelby's visit last Friday I had been reading as much as I could to get ready for having Damien on my own. I had the general hang of feeding and changing him, but without Shelby nearby as support, I wanted to be as ready as possible. Even with the greatest intentions, accidentally hurting Damien wasn't going to help my cause.
There were a lot of books telling moms how to raise new babies, not that many for dads, but almost every one that I had found, I had gotten. I'd need a shelf for them eventually, piling up on my work table at the apartment. I wanted to show Shel that she wasn't making a mistake taking this step with me, but I also wanted to prove it to myself. I was the last person I would have thought would be a dad, let alone a good one. I owed it to Damien to do everything I could, and I owed it to myself to be the best father I could be to him.
I was buzzing when I finally left the office. The first thing I had to do was get the car. Lake had referred me to a dealer that would let me rent a car short term. I wasn't picky; a thing with four wheels, good mileage, and enough space to attach an infant seat, that was all I wanted. I drove the car straight from the dealer's to the store, a baby and infant shop I had looked up not too far from where I lived. I had a lot of books telling me how to do the dad thing but not a lot of anything else. Going into the shop was like the first time that I had been in the toy store, getting a gift for Damien what seemed like so long ago now. It was an entire consumer world that I had had no idea about.
The store was big, decorated in a lot of white and pastel colors and big, blown up pictures of babies and kids advertising clothes and toys all over the walls and displays. They had everything from clothes, to bottles and toys, to gear like carrier seats and baby slings so you could wear your kid on your chest. Did I just start at one end and pick one of everything till I got to the other? I needed help. A saleswoman, short, glasses, maybe between thirty-five and forty-five, was rearranging a display of boxes. Getting closer, I saw they were for infant pool floaties. Did Damien need those?
"Excuse me, ma'am?" She turned and smiled up at me.
"Good afternoon, sir, what can I help you with?" she asked.
"I need some advice," I told her. "I live alone, but that's about to change. What do I need to get my place ready for a kid?"
"Baby on the way?" she beamed. "Congratulations."
"Thanks. I know I need diapers, and a crib, but I'm stuck on what else."
"Don't you worry," she said, motioning for me to follow her. She started with the bottles, little sippy cups, plastic plates, and spoons. She never stopped talking the whole time, asking me question after question about how soon the kid was going to be coming and how me and my wife were feeling about becoming new parents. She got it out of me eventually that the arrangement was a little different than what she expected, but she didn't seem judgmental about it, professionally walking me through the store, putting a list together of everything I would need.
She worked for the store, she obviously wanted to sell as much as possible, but this was one time that I wasn't worried about getting a deal. He'd need a playpen: a space where I could leave him and be sure he was safe, even if I wasn't in the room. A high chair, the woman said, would ease him into sitting up while he ate, the way he would when he would eventually sit at a normal dining table with Shel and me. Since I was getting a highchair, of course, I needed baby food. Shelby had told me that he was only having a few spoonfuls of the baby rice stuff, a couple times a day, but sure, the next step was most likely apple sauce and creamed peas.
The woman got me to cave on a foldaway changing table, changing mat for when I was on the go, something called a Boppy pillow, and an array of toys that were meant to be stimulating and jump-start his early cognition. A car seat was obvious, and so was a good stock of diapers and wipes. Paying the bill, I wondered why the fuck those tiny mini items cost so damn much. It was worth it, of course. I had spent a hell of a lot more on myself in the past, and I would spend a hell of a lot more on Damien in the future. He wasn't going to know what if felt like to go without. I had been lucky; my childhood had been right out of a storybook. Supportive, present parents, vacations camping and hiking, holidays surrounded with people who loved me: I wanted that for him.
We had a ways to go before we got there, but I felt like we were on the right track. It was getting close to three-thirty when I finished at the store, so I decided to go straight to Shelby's station to pick Damien up before heading back to the apartment.
The bigger items I paid extra to deliver to the apartment but kept the car seat so I could pick Damien up. Parking at the station, I followed the car seat instructions and installed it before calling Shelby and telling her I was downstairs. Since the daycare was onsite, she got to go down and see Damien whenever he needed her. Sounded like a good idea; I didn't know how many other offices had that option for parents. Didn't think mine did.
Instead of waiting outside, I went inside to the daycare. It was an area on the ground floor, sectioned off with a short gate. It had colorful decals on the walls, paintings, charts, and carpet on the ground. Through there, a few people in uniforms were engaging groups of kids in different activities. I looked around for Damien, not seeing him. A lot of the kids were bigger than him, walking already. I told the closest uniformed woman to me that I was there to pick Damien up.
"Damien?" she asked, looking at me.
"Damien. Damien Aster," I clarified, remembering that Shel had given him her last name. I was cool with that as long as he could have mine too. I told her who I was and she got it, telling me that Shelby had let her know that Damien's dad was going to be picking him up.
"Just a security thing, we have to be careful. Wait here," she said, disappearing into a room. She came out holding Damien. I smiled seeing him, taking him from her.
"Hey, buddy," I said, kissing his cheek. I could swear that he got cuter every day. I was thanking Shelby for that. He had her nose and mouth, and whenever we were out with him, people liked to tell us he was cute. Shit, my kid? A masterpiece.
"You're already here," I heard someone say behind me. I turned and saw Shelby walking up to us. There was a smile on her face. She came up, kissing Damien on the cheek, then me.
"I'll be earlier tomorrow. I had to pick a few things up before coming here."
"Like what?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Why don't you come see?" I said casually. She smiled, rolling her eyes, but followed me outside. I guessed that it wasn't a secret anymore that Damien was mine. Some people were looking at us walking out of the building. I hated that she had ever felt that way about us, about me. I was doing everything I could to fix it.
"Wow," she said as we came up to the car. "This is yours?"
"For the remainder of the lease, yup," I said proudly. "And look at this," I said, opening the door to the back seat, showing her the car seat. "All ready to go for Damien."
"I’m impressed," she said, crossing her arms. "Good start. You're going to have about three hours with him. Are you ready?"
"I've been waiting for this all day," I said, lowering Damien into the seat and buckling him in.
"You can call me if anything happens. If you need anything. Otherwise, I'll be there once I'm off work."
"Take your time. We'll be okay," I said, opening the driver's side. She smiled, opening the door to kiss Damien bye, then wished me good luck, and walked back into the building. I got into the car and started it, turning to look back at Damien. It was just the two of us now. He was calm the whole way to the apartment, making those little sounds he did. The store that I had been to had said the deliveries would come before the end of the day, but they weren't there when we got to my unit. No problem, I thought, they still had time. We went inside with everything else.
The changing table hadn't been delivered, but I had brought the changing mat home in my car. I unfolded it on the bed, laid Damien down then changed his diaper. I threw it out, and when I came back to the bed, he had rolled over onto his stomach.
"What are you going to do if I put you on the floor?" I asked him, picking him up and placing him carefully on his stomach. He immediately pushed up on his arms and tried to scoot around the floor. Carpet, I realized. That was what I had forgotten. It was okay. I'd get it tomorrow. Place an order or something. I heard a knock at the door suddenly. Keeping an eye on him, I went to the door; it was the delivery from the baby store.
"Look what Daddy got you, buddy," I said, closing the door when everything was in the house. I was glad suddenly that I hadn't bought anything but a couch and table. I might have overestimated the amount of space that was available in the apartment. "What do you think?" Damien just smiled and tried to scoot over to me. I leaned down and picked him up. "You want to help me put some of this stuff together? Where should we start?" I was talking to myself, but Shelby always did it to him. He wasn't going to say anything back, but I liked it. They didn’t learn to talk unless someone spoke to them anyway. "How about this so you can play with your new toys?" I said, touching the box where the playpen was. It would require minor assembly, and I had brought up the new toys already.
When I had been a kid, I'd watch my dad, sometimes grandfather, putting things together. From pretty early on, my dad was all about his kids getting college educations but always insisted that it was important to know how to work with your hands. Watching him go under the hood of the car, or fixing something for my mom had always been like bonding time for us. Damien couldn’t use his hands for anything much at the moment, but maybe one day. I put him down on the ground near me and got to work.
I was in the kitchen when I heard the knock on the door. I went up and opened it, letting Shelby in. She smiled at me, coming inside.
"Hey, how’d it go?" she asked.
"Good. How was work?"
"It was all right; what happened in here?" she asked, noticing the new furniture. The playpen was near the couch; since I had no TV, that had become Damien's designated play area. The highchair was next to the table and the changing table, since it folded down, was against the wall next to the playpen.
"I went out for a couple things. He's in there." I pointed to the playpen. She looked at me then walked over. Its raised sides had translucent netting so I could see into it at all times. He was napping, asleep on his stomach. She put her hands on the raised sides looking in.
"When did you put him down?"
"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago. I wasn't sure of his schedule, but he was getting fussy so I laid him down, and he fell asleep."
"Hm. I don't like him napping too late in the day because he won't fall asleep at night."
"Yeah, I think I read something like that."
"Read?" she asked. I pointed over at the table, at the pile of books that had grown since last Friday. She went over and looked at them, picking one up.
"The Baby Owner's Manual," she said, reading one cover. "The New Dad's Survival Guide?"
"You said nobody ever just knows how to do this stuff. I wanted to learn," I said, walking up to her.
"How many do you have?" she asked, skimming the pile.
"I might have bought the store out," I said, shrugging sheepishly. "I really want to be good at this. Good for Damien, I mean. He got me for a dad; I want to make up for that."
"Stop," she said. "You're already so good with him."
"I wasn't there three whole months. I feel left behind. I don't want to miss out on any more of his life."
"That was my fault, Jason."
"If I hadn't been such an asshole, you wouldn't have felt like you had to keep him safe from me." She came up to me, putting her arms around my neck. I pulled her in so she was flush against me.
"You're a good dad, Jason," she said.
"I hope he thinks so too." She leaned in and kissed me. We had turned a corner lately, gotten a little closer. I liked it. I preferred when she wasn't pushing me away. I kissed her, happy I got to see her again. I was glad it was her, it was good to feel like she didn't regret having Damien with me.
"In all this stuff you got, did you get a monitor too?" she asked.
"Wouldn't need one. Not enough space."
"Hm." She kissed me again, this time letting her hands slide down my shoulders, over my chest and abs, stopping right at the waist of my jeans.
"Too bad. We'll just have to be quiet then."