Baby Love (9 page)

              "Hmmph,"he grunted, "I would be more inclined to represent Ian - pro bono."

              "What?" I snapped.  "This isn't a joke Trey.  He has freaking destroyed her."

              "Oh come on Tylar.  You don't think in Gina's own way she has somehow emasculated him over time?  It was just a matter of time before Ian discovered he had some balls."

              "What the hell are you saying Trey?  Do you actually think that there is any excuse for
cheating?"

              "I did not say that Tylar.  Look, let’s not argue about Gina and Ian's business okay?"

              I didn't answer him, continuing to peel vegetables for our salad.

              "Where's 'Chubbers?" he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

              Trey had taken to referring to her now as 'Chubbers'.  I didn't care for the nickname.  My baby was at a healthy weight.  There was nothing worse than a scrawny baby.

              "Don't call her that," I reminded him again. "She's in her crib napping.  I put her down about an hour ago.  Would you look in on her?"

              "I'd be happy to do that," he said heading down the hall to check on Preston. 

              I knew he would end up waking her up.  Several minutes later he reappeared cradling her in his arms.

              "Tylar," he said in a serious tone.

              I looked up at him from where I had continued chopping up carrots for our salads. Preston gave me a dimpled grin from her vantage point against Trey's chest.

              "I changed her diaper just now. What's with the rash that she still has on her bottom?  Aren't you doing anything for it?"

              I didn't know what it was.  Perhaps it was the stress over what I had just learned about Jean; perhaps it was Trey's cavalier attitude about Ian's cheating on Gina or maybe it was the repetitive nightmares that I had been having about losing Preston.  All I knew was that in that nanosecond I lost it.

              "What the hell!"  I screamed, startling both Trey and the baby as I slammed the knife down on the chopping block. 

              I saw Preston's little face scrunch up in tears; her thumb went immediately into her mouth. She buried her face into Trey's chest and whimpered against him.   Trey gathered her closer to him as if he was protecting her from me - the enemy.  This was so unfamiliar to her.  It was unfamiliar to all of us.

              "I take good care of my baby!" I yelled.  "Who are you to tell me otherwise?"

              I pushed past Trey and Preston, tossing the dish towel I had wiped my hands with back behind me where it floated to the floor. 

              I didn't stick around to watch as Trey's face took on a totally different persona.  I heard him start the automatic timer on Preston's swing and imagined that he had placed her there so that he could deal with me. I was glad in that moment that I had fled the room for my own safety.  I found my solace in our own room, flinging myself on the bed.  My body was racked with sobs and tears.

    It was only moments before Trey was there on the bed, sitting down beside me.  He observed my meltdown.  He did nothing, letting me sob for awhile.  He probably figured that was my 'just desserts' for losing it out there in front of the baby.

              "Tylar," he finally implored in a soft and sane tone.  "What the hell is going on?"

              I sat up and looked at him, brushing the tears from my face.  I gathered courage from somewhere in the depths of my being.

              "I can't take it when you say that I'm not a good mother," I choked, still fighting tears. "I love that baby more than life itself, don't you get that Trey?"

              He was watching me quizzically, almost as if he thought I had gone off of the deep end.

              "Tylar, sweetie," he said softly, "I wasn't criticizing you in any way, shape or form.  This is all new to me as well.  It was just that when I changed her diaper, I was kind of . . . well taken aback at the rash she has going on.  I didn't mean to accuse you of not taking care of her properly. Please believe me."

              I was still sobbing, letting all of my fears and tension release for now.  I felt better in doing so.  I had needed this release.  My only regret was that my husband and daughter had witnessed it.  I hadn't wanted that at all.

              "Trey," I said, sighing heavily, "This has been a very tough day on me.  I'm shaken because of Jean and what Gina is going through but I'm also worried about Preston."

              "Baby, it's just a rash," he started.

              "No, not just the rash," I explained tentatively.  "I've been having nightmares about Preston.  It's as if I can't keep her safe.  There's nothing more definitive than that in my dreams.  I'm worried."

              "Sweetie," he started, "You are a new mom but I promise you that you are doing everything right.  I shouldn't have brought it up."

              Trey was just not getting it.  He did not realize the depths of my concern and my fear for her.  He didn't know just how worried I had become.  He was staring at me now.  It was that look I had seen before as if he expected me to crumble into a million pieces.

              Our reverie was broken by the sound of the baby crying.  It was her hungry cry; I recognized it.  I felt the 'letdown' in my breasts.  My milk was coming in and my breasts were full and begging for release.  I couldn't handle nursing her right now.  I couldn't deal with the closeness that came with nursing my baby girl.  Trey watched as I did nothing after hearing the sound of her cry.  He left the room and promptly returned holding Preston, bringing her toward me and holding her for me to take.

              I took her from him tentatively.  She recognized my touch, my scent, my nearness. She broke out into a smile reaching for me.  I held her close and she immediately started nuzzling against me, rooting for my breast.  She wanted her fulfillment from me.  I wasn't prepared to give it to her right now.  I was starting to have fears and apprehension where she was concerned.

              Trey was watching me his face not bothering to mask his concern at my impassiveness towards my baby.  He had never seen that before.  I was suddenly afraid to be close to her; I was too attached.  What if she wasn't

here for the long haul?

              I pulled her from me, handing her back to Trey.

              "There are bottles in the fridge," I said my voice shaking. "Please feed her Trey." 

              He took the baby from me and immediately she started kicking and fussing in protest.  I heard him murmuring softly to her as he took her down the hall towards the kitchen where he would heat up a bottle of my breast-pumped milk and feed her before she went down for the night.

              I quickly changed into a nightgown and crawled into the safe comfort of our bed not wanting to think about anything but falling into a deep, dark sleep.  My wishes were granted. I didn't want anything to do with my baby for now.  It just wasn't safe . . .

CHAPTER 6

              I had been sleeping for awhile when I heard Preston fussing once again from her bedroom.  I felt Trey get up and leave our bed, returning within a couple of minutes with Preston in his arms.  I pretended to sleep, never opening my eyes. 

              I felt Trey lower himself down onto the bed, and fumble with my nightgown trying to lower the neckline in order to place Preston next to me so that she could nurse.  I rolled my body away from them into a tight ball, leaving him and my hungry baby staring at my back.

              I heard Trey curse softly under his breath as he left our bed.  He returned a few moments later with Preston and a bottle.  I could hear him coaxing her to take the bottle as she fussed wanting my breast instead. 

              Tears stained my cheeks as I did nothing to remedy the situation.  Trey was finally able to persuade her to take the nipple of the bottle into her mouth; I heard her finally start sucking away on it hungrily. What kind of a piece of shit mother was I?

              I fell back into a restless and troubled sleep.  My dreams haunted me; the one I had this night was the worst ever.  I dreamed that I was wandering around a cemetery by myself; I was tired, hungry and totally disheveled. 

I had no clue as to where I was or how I had gotten there.  I tripped over a branch that had fallen from a large oak tree in the cemetery; rain was pounding down around me in torrents. 

              I tried in vain to get my bearings in this dark, wet cemetery.  On the ground crawling in inches after my fall, my hands frantically searched to find something stable.  I finally grasped something that felt human, or at least previously human.  I scooted up towards what I had been touching with my hands.  It was cold and unyielding. My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I could make out the features.  I shrieked in fear and in disgust. 
It was
Jean!

              Her features were distorted by decay.  Her skin was dark brown and textured like leather.  I found the strength to raise myself up and onto my feet.  I wanted to run as fast and as far away as possible from what I had just discovered.

              I felt the bile rise up in my throat. I stumbled over a flat gravestone and sprawled once again onto the ground of the cemetery; the rain was pelting against my skin from all directions.  I blinked my eyes trying to get some focus against the raindrops which were mercilessly assaulting my face.  I was now belly-crawling through this unnamed cemetery looking for any exit out of the nightmare.

              My hand brushed against another flat headstone that felt smooth to the touch.  The raised mound of dirt on this side of it reflected a fresh grave.  It was a tiny grave.  There was an outline of an angel engraved into the headstone.  I stared into the face of the angel then lowered my gaze to see what was encrypted in the marble: 

             Preston Michaela Sinclair

              Beloved Daughter of Tylar & Trey

              Rest In Peace Our Little Angel

              I felt the scream rise up in my throat.  The next thing I heard was it echoing across the cemetery.  It was a plaintive wail. The sound of it made my own skin crawl.

              My baby was gone . . . my precious angel was gone forever.  I had failed to protect her.  My screams went on and on.  I saw no reason to stop screaming.  I wanted to die screaming.

              "Tylar!" 

              Someone was yelling my name. I felt a hand slapping me across my face.  It stung like hell.  I felt the tears rushing down my cheeks. 

              A light flickered on overhead. My eyes immediately squeezed shut tightly to shield the light from them.  My pulse slowed.  I became aware that I was no longer belly-crawling through a cemetery but was in fact in my bed. 

              Trey was looking down at me his eyes wide with alarm and fear.

              "Trey," I gasped.   "Where is Preston?"

              "She's in her bed in her room," he stated. 

              I quickly threw the covers back and launched myself out of our bed making a mad dash for her room.  I flicked the overhead lights on once I was there and crept up quietly to her crib.  I watched as her swaddled little body slept, noting the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed life. 

              Trey was right behind me in the doorway.  The look of alarm was apparent on his face.  Did he think that I would do anything to hurt my baby? 

              He stood in the doorway, watching me as I leaned over the rails of her crib and gently lifted her up, placing her gently against me.  I kissed the top of her head over and over again.  My tears were still flowing.  She squirmed against me, yawning and stretching in my arms as I cradled her and rocked her gently. 

              I took a seat in the nearby rocker, lowering my nightgown to expose a breast as I cuddled her next to me.  She latched onto my breast within seconds, gently sucking and kneading them in contentment. I loved her so much. I didn't know how long I sat there rocking my beautiful baby girl before I felt Trey lift her from my arms and place her back into her crib, drawing a blanket up to her waist and turning her overhead light out.

              He came to me holding his hand out to help me from the rocker and gently led me back to our bed.  I crawled beneath the comforter, snuggling up against him as he found his place beside me. I felt Trey's hands against me, removing my nightgown, lowering my panties as his hands urgently plied my womanhood.