Page 62 of Beautiful Small Things

I notice Iris has some bows in a basket near the changing table, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with them. She has very little hair and definitely not enough to clip onto anything.

Grabbing one, I flip it over and examine it. It’s a bow, but not a clip. It has some kind of adhesive on it. I’m well aware of the workings of the human body, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this bow. Then it dawns on me. I’m supposed to stick this to my child’s head. That’s just fucked up. Cruel and unusual punishment. My daughter has done nothing to deserve such a hateful action.

“Now, why in the heck would your crazy Aunt Colby think I would stick this thing to your little head, huh?” I ask in a silly voice. Iris just stares at me and shoves her fist into her mouth. She’s clearly not interested in this bow, either.

“We will just put this down and never go near it again, OK?” I glance around the room and try to decide what we should do today. It’s a beautiful day, and I have not been outside much, so I decide to load her up and take a walk.

I look at the baby carrier hanging on a hook and don’t immediately understand all of the straps and velcro mechanisms. I’ve seen S&M harnesses that are less complicated.

“Stroller it is, Iris,” I say to her as I lay her down carefully in this ridiculously expensive stroller my mother bought.

I grab a blanket, make a bottle, put little socks on her feet and a little hat on her head, and declare it’s time to go.

I live in a nice, flat neighborhood with many trees and wide streets. I didn’t realize it at the time when I bought this place, but it’s perfect for walking my baby.

About ten minutes into our journey, she shuts her eyes and dozes off. Next time, I’ll dress in workout clothes so I can run while she sleeps. I pick up the pace to get some semblance of cardio and end up downtown within minutes.

We walk on the sidewalk, me soaking up the sunshine while Iris snoozes peacefully. I can’t believe what a chick magnet this baby is. Several women approach me, coo at the baby, and give me fuck-me eyes. I’m polite to all of them but have no interest in any female except for the one in the stroller. Especially now that James lives with me. I never considered it before, but I’m glad I’m not looking to hook up with anyone because I don’t even know how that would work.

I don’t want her hooking up with anyone, either. I don’t have any control over that, but I don’t like how that thought sits heavy in my chest. Just thinking about it is pissing me off. I’m getting myself all worked up when I hear my name.

“Marcus,” she calls, and I know immediately by the way the voice settles a calm over me that it’s James. I turn to find her sitting outside at a local coffee shop, a book on the table, along with a large cup of coffee.

“Now, what did I tell you?” I tease. “You’re supposed to be off today.”

“I didn’t follow you, you crazy person. I AM taking time off. I’m enjoying a cup of coffee and a book,” she says, lifting the book to flash it at me.

“How’s the book?” I ask.

“Truthfully?” She asks with an edge to her voice.

I nod.

“I can’t focus on it,” she shrugs. “I miss Iris.”

I smile in response. I know the feeling. “Well, if you want to hang out with us you can, I guess,” I joke. “But only if you want to.”

James jumps up and claps her hands. “Yeah! There’s a baby store down the street. Go check it out with me,” she says.

“You mean there’s something in a store I don’t already own?”

“There is,” she smiles, “but not for long.”

We spend too much time and money in that little boutique, but I admit I’m having fun. James agrees to go to the local dance studio for a workout while I do some grocery shopping, and we will meet at home for dinner. I should encourage her to do her own thing, but the truth is, I am enjoying her company.

When she comes through the door three hours later, I have food prepared, but the kitchen is a disaster, and the baby is starting to fuss.

James immediately walks to Iris and picks her up. “I’ll take her and change her,” she says. “You make a bottle.”

We work together with expediency, and a few minutes later, we are sitting in the living room, having decided to eat casually in front of the television, with Iris in the crook of my arm.

It’s nothing I would have ever imagined, but I can’t help but think about how happy I am at this moment. There’s honestly nowhere I’d rather be.

Chapter twenty-five

Beach Time

James - Age 23