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JACK
Jack took the diaper bag from Sophie and said, “Come on, Soph, look at that sweet face. You don’t really mind changing her do you?” Knowing how much Sophie hated male smugness of any kind, Jack aimed a thousand watts of lame-brained guy-pleading right at her. “I’m sure you’re much better at that kind of thing than I am.” He set the diaper bag on the bed, laid Emma on the comforter, patted Sophie on the back, and took off for the kitchen in a sweaty panic.
Less than one minute later he had a nice, cold beer in his hand. He’d just popped the top and was thinking life was grand indeed when Sophie strode in, plunked the baby against his chest, turned on her heel and left.
He followed. “Wow, that was really fast, thanks.”
He tipped his beer back ready to take a huge gulp in relief when he got a whiff of something mighty unpleasant. “Hey, wait a minute. The baby’s—”
“Your niece.” Sophie skidded to a halt. Turned. And gave him a smash-you-to-smithereens glare. “You change her.”
“Wait! I can’t!” Jack tried to play it cool, but the thought of changing a diaper, any diaper, made him ugly sweat, which was probably like ugly crying except this was real fear coming from every pore on his body. What if he did it wrong? What if he hurt Emma somehow? Good Lord, the last time he’d been this nervous was the first time he’d kissed Sophie. “Will you please just change her?”
“Why can’t you and why should I?”
“You should because...well, because,” he shuffled his feet and muttered, “I don’t know how.”
“Are you telling me that you’ve had her for well over an hour and haven’t once changed her?”
“That’s what I’m telling you, yes.” Well over an hour? Was that bad? Holy nutsacks, exactly how many times should he have changed her by now? Was it every few minutes? Twice an hour? Six times? What?
“Out of all your nephews and nieces, you’ve never once changed their diaper?”
“That’s right,” he added in a small voice.
“Why the heck not? Are you mental?”
“I don’t know why not. No one’s ever bothered to teach me. It’s not like I’ve run screaming in the opposite direction or pretended I suddenly had jury duty.”
Sophie muttered something in Italian, then sighed loudly and said, “Fine. Here.” She took Emma and marched back into the bedroom, leaving him dragging his heels behind her. Man, he hated admitting that he didn’t know how to do something. But then the word grateful flooded his brain and then his heart, and he figured maybe he’d better scrap the gummi bears and start looking at jewelry instead. Maybe emeralds to match Sophie’s eyes.
He watched Sophie spread a towel out on top of the bed. Watched her settle the baby smack down the middle. Watched as Emma blew more spit bubbles. And then watched Sophie hesitate.
“Problem? Can I help? Do you need me to do something?”
“No. Of course not.”
Buttercup walked in and leaned against his legs. Hank skulked in and jumped on Jack’s pillow. Max followed and Jack finally started to relax.
“Cat-sitting too?” Sophie asked.
“Apparently.”
With nothing better to do, Emma tried sticking her foot in her mouth while Sophie rummaged in the diaper bag for a diaper and those handy little washcloths in a box. Fascinated to see this domesticated side of Sophie, he realized he’d never actually seen her around kids before. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He liked her a lot. Screw emeralds, he needed diamonds.
She unsnapped the one-piece thing the kid was wearing, the fumes hit, she gagged, then glared at him. “As soon as I’m done, urleggh, changing her, I’m taking Max, urleggh, for a nice long walk around town. I could be gone for, urleggh, hours. Days even.”
“You, uh, need a bucket? Should I hold your hair?”
“No, but mighty big of you to offer.” Urleggh.
Max wandered over looking concerned. He put his paws on the bed beside Sophie and looked into her face. Jack thought he heard her mutter something about dire consequences before she said, “It’s okay, Max, I’m fine. Just dandy.” At that, Max turned his attention to the baby, his snout lifted as he got a good whiff, his eyes glazed over, and Jack swore he saw a smile spread across Max’s face. Like a poopy diaper was some sort of cheeseburger from paradise.
Sophie flipped open a fresh diaper, got a handful of washcloth things and frowned.
Emma had both chubby pink feet stuffed into her mouth and burbled as she gummed on a toe. “You need a hand, there, Soph?”
“I need several. Babies are like octopuses, octopi? Anyway, she’s all squirmy.”
“Aye. But, I was thinkin’ that, uh—”
“Don’t start. Just stand there and thank your Lucky Charms for a darn minute while I try to figure this out.”
“How many darn minutes do you think I’m goin’ to be needing?’
“Why?”
“It’s just that...well, I don’t know, but it just seems like...” He shouldn’t say it, he knew he shouldn’t say it, but his mouth had a mind of its own, “...like Moses parted the Red Sea faster than this. I’m hungry and you probably are, too, and I’d like to eat lunch sometime before the second coming.” He was exhausted and wrung out, this was turning into the longest day of his life, and if he didn’t eat soon, he was going to snitch the kid’s bottle and take a swig.
“Maybe you should put on a diaper and I can practice on you.”
Her words popped his little thought bubble and he sighed, wondering why Sophie was so dead set on busting his chops. “Uh, no. Unless, you know, you have some weird guy-in-a-diaper fetish I don’t know about. Maybe we should discuss that. I mean, I’m willing to try almost anything, but honestly, Soph, I’m not sure I’m cut out to do a diaper dress up day.”
“Oh, I definitely think we should discuss it. Maybe you should start cutting up sheets. We can play Mommy Sophie and Little Jack while we talk.”
He noticed her biting her lip to keep from smiling and his eyes went to slits. “Or how about we play Sheriff Jack cuffs Smarty-Pants Sophie for making him think you were serious?”
“I want my handcuffs in pink with purple glitter.”
“Yeah? I’m sure I’ve got some paint and glue in the garage. I could probably borrow some glitter from Bailey.”
She ignored his hopeful, almost pathetic plea, finally finished wiping what needed wiping, folded and taped up the dirty diaper and set it aside. Then she tucked the clean diaper under Emma’s bottom, stopped, bit her lip, and looked puzzled.
That must have been the opening the kid was waiting for because she kicked her feet and flipped onto her stomach like a rookie with a fumble.
He freaked. “Quick! Grab her! She’s going to escape!”
Max barked, Buttercup wagged, Sophie hopped from one foot to the other, hands flailing, all panicky, then stopped dead still and stared at him. “Hunh. And where do you suppose the little convict is going to escape too? Look at her, she’s barely gone a few inches.”
He lowered the brim of his Stetson, quite sure he didn’t want Sophie to see his loss of composure. “Oh. I thought she could, you know, crawl away, maybe roll off the bed or something.”
“Well, can she?”
“How should I know?”
Sophie stuck her hands on her hips. “How is it that you know so little about babies, yet have a bunch of nieces and nephews?”
“Dumb luck? Can you please cover her up now, before her butt starts whistling Dixie? Or before she wets all over the bedspread?”
Sophie turned Emma back over, scooched her down, situated the diaper back underneath her, and looked lost again.
Good Lord in Heaven, he should’ve called in reinforcements. Or at least pulled up a YouTube instructional video. At this rate the kid was going to be asking for the car keys before she ever got another diaper on.
“There’s tape on the sides, Soph. Just tape her up and let’s go. Please.”
“I know there’s tape. I watch TV. I’ve seen commercials. I just can’t find it. Maybe we could use a couple of chip clips.”
He walked over to the bed and looked down, trying not to think about the dirty diaper lying a mere foot away. He finally saw what he was looking for and pointed, “Right there.”
“That? I tried already. It won’t come apart. What about duct tape?”
“You’re supposed to match up the sides and the cartoon characters.”
“Right, Irish, I know that.”
He loved it when she got flustered. In fact... He stepped behind her, moved the soft strands of dark hair away from her neck and rubbed her nape. As he trailed his hands up and down her arms, he lowered his mouth and kissed the curve of her neck. Then he—
“Ow!” He yelped, as her heel ground down on the tips of his toes. “Jeez!”
“What?”
“You stomped on my foot!!”
“I did not. It was probably Max. But ... wait a minute. Now you’re calling me fat? And furry?”
She looked like she was about to bean him in the head with the dirty diaper so he took a couple of steps back. “I never said you were fat. When did I say that? Why would I? Did I say keep your chins up? No, I did not. Did I suggest you buy stock in a razor company? Another no. Are you messing with me?” He raised his hands in surrender, then glanced over her shoulder to see if she was finished with the whole diaper changing jubilee. “Uh, Soph, it might help if the diaper wasn’t on backward.”
“Huh? It is? Okay, back up. I can do this. In fact, I can do better than this,” she said, picked up her cellphone and hit dial.
“Who are you calling?”
“My mother.”
“What? All the way over in Italy? Isn’t that a bit ... aren’t you ... how can ... I mean—”
She leveled him with a glare.
“Great idea.” Oh boy. This could turn into an ordeal. Her family might decide they needed to fly home early. Or worse, her nonno could be hanging around his mafia buddies and they could suddenly decide they all needed a nice vacation in Live Oak. Oh, jeez. Nothing good could come of that. If he had to arrest Sophia’s nonno and his crew friends, she’d kill him. If he’d thought about it, he could’ve just called Bailey for instructions. “Soph, I can call—”
She raised her hand and said, “Mom? Hi, how’s Italy? How’s the family?” She listened for a minute, then said, “I’m sure Nonna didn’t mean to get you kicked out of the museum. Or the restaurant. I know she’s... uh, huh. Right. You know how Paolo can be. Just don’t mention the mob, he’ll wind up hiding in the bedroom closet like he did last year. No, Papa didn’t call me. But really, I’m sure he can pick out a gift without my help. Of course I’ll help! Tell him to call me, okay? No, Nonno didn’t mention getting together with his old friends in Sicily. Definitely don’t let Paolo hear. Or Luca or Gio either, they’ll scare him on purpose and Paolo may bolt. Listen, I could use your help for a quick second, if you think Nonna can go unsupervised for a few. I have a baby here and— Hi Papa. No, it’s not my baby! Did you see me pregnant? I’m not even married! No, don’t put Nonno on... Hi, Nonno! How’s—of course it’s not my baby. I’ll let you know when though, okay? Yes, of course I promise, we live in the same place! You see me every day, you’ll know! Can I please talk to Mama again? Mama! It’s Jack’s niece and we’re babysitting. Yes, I think I’d know if the baby was mine. You think I have a twin running things, you see me every day, did I look nine months pregnant a week ago? Please, all I need is help changing a diaper. Yes, I had to call, you’re my mother, who else would I call? No, Jack doesn’t know how either. It’s a girl baby, so there’s no worry about getting sprayed in the face. Yes, I know you have, but you had three boys, and this is a...I know the story, Mama. I just need to know how to ...”
Jack resumed his spot by the door, feeling tired and hungry and more than a little bit amused. Even touched that Sophie was going to so much trouble to help.
Sophie listened to her mother and after rearranging the diaper for the third time, she taped the sides, only got her fingers stuck twice, and finally, snapped the kid back up. She hung up with her mom and Jack thought, Glory Hallelujah, time for lunch.
Apparently Max had the same idea. He saw his opening, grabbed the dirty diaper, and took off down the hall at a sprint.
“Max, no! Sit! Stay! Drop the diaper!”
Sophie scooped up Emma and Jack took off after Max with a shudder. What was it with dogs and things that smelled bad?
Jack rounded the corner into the hall and nearly fell over Max. That might be the first time in history Max had actually done exactly as he was told. He was sitting, not moving, and didn’t have the diaper. In fact the diaper was nowhere in sight.
Sophie came up to stand next to Jack and seemed as surprised as he was. “He listened!” she announced, “but where’s the diaper?”
“Hold on a sec, I have a pretty good idea.” And he walked into his bedroom, where sure enough, Buttercup was lounging beside his bed. “Okay, Blondie, let’s have it.”
She woofed.
“No negotiating. Give it back.”
Buttercup rolled onto her back, tongue lolling, tail wagging, paws flailing.
“The diaper,” Jack said. “Let’s have it.”
Buttercup flipped to her belly, pawed a pen out of her stash from under the bed, and punted it in his direction.
“No, no, no. I don’t negotiate with hoarders. Especially over dirty diapers.” He started to bend down to see exactly where under his bed she’d stashed the smelly thing, but Max came in and tackled him. Either Max meant to tackle Buttercup and missed, or there were two rotten canines who were trying to diaper block him.
Jack rolled away as both dogs stuck their heads under the bed and barked.
“Oh no you don’t,” Jack said, and pointed at the door. “Everybody out!” Buttercup did her best sad eyes imitation, Max gave him the stink eye, and Jack ignored them both. Con artists. “Out, out, out. Go make snot marks on the living room windows or something.”
When the dogs wouldn’t stop barking, Jack got down on all fours and peered under the bed. He was met with a loud hiss. And not from Hank. A very plump, very annoyed possum was hunched back against the wall showing a full set of jagged teeth that would make any sane person call a SWAT team.
“Nobody move,” he whispered, and backed away.
He knew he should do the respectable thing and shoot to the top of the bed, holler for Sophie to rescue them, but he was a man, darn it, he could handle this.
The problem was, how exactly?
Okay, first thing to do, get the dogs out so the possum wouldn’t feel threatened. “Sophie! Can you please call the dogs?”
With one arm stuffed with a now cooing baby, she entered the doorway. “Sure, what’s up? Why are the dogs going nuts?”
Jack sidled sideways until he stood next to Sophie. “Promise you won’t scream?”
“What? Why would I scream? Oh jeez, did they eat the diaper?”
“Not that I’m aware of. There’s a possum under my bed. It’s a wee bit narky”
“Ma dai!” She shrieked. “How did a possum get inside, much less under your bed? Are you messing with me?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past those two,” Jack said, pointing at both dogs, who were now down to small whines but still had their noses stuck under the bed. “Chances are one of them brought it in through the doggie door in the garage. Probably my blonde hoarder. This is a new low, even for her.”
“Maybe Max did it.”
“Can Max even fit through the doggie door?” When he saw Sophie’s eyes go to slits, he backtracked. “Chances are Buttercup did it this morning before I was fully awake.”
“So what’s next?”
“You get the dogs out, I’ll call animal control.”
Sophie nodded and bounced a squirmy Emma. “Come on, you two, out, let’s go!”
“Let me get my hat before—”
Max backed up and plopped his fat butt down smack on top of Jack’s custom-made two thousand dollar Stetson.
“The bleedin’ oxter! He did that on purpose.”
Sophie sighed. “Probably.”
“Get your fat arse off my hat, you buggerin’ boob!”
“Max, bad! Jack, I’ll buy you a new one, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. I’m sure it can be reshaped. Or made into a super-sized coffee coaster.” He looked longingly at his hat. “Roses are red, violets are black, too bad my hat is as flat as my back.”
Sophie bit her cheek to keep from laughing, grabbed Max by the collar and called Buttercup.
Jack followed, closed the door, and called animal control.
Maybe now they could finally have lunch.
When Sophie passed the kitchen, handed off the baby, and started for the back door, he asked, “Where are you going? Aren’t you hungry?”
She gave him a wicked smile and said, “I’m taking the dogs out to potty. Also to make sure they don’t bring more wildlife into the house.”
#ABabyIsLikeABlenderYouDon’tHaveTheTopFor
#IfYou’reGoingToScreamLikeThatYou’dBetterBeOnFireWithAStickInYourEye
#OrAPossumUnderYourBed