Baby Love Lite (7 page)

“
Whoa,” he said, surprised
at the force of my milk stream. I laughed at his expression. He
lowered his mouth to my nipple and sucked on it gently. “Hmmm,” he
said, lifting his face up to mine. “That does taste good, Mrs.
Sinclair. I can see what all the fuss is about.”

He lifted himself up and out of me. He lay
down next to me and continued to press playful kisses on my face
and neck. “She’s fine, Tylar,” he said, giving me a semi-stern
look.

“
What?” I asked, feigning
confusion.

“
Bobbin is fine,” he
repeated.

“
I know she is,” I
lied.

I hated being apart from her and he knew
it.

“
Tylar,” he started, a
slight frown creased his forehead, “have you discussed your
separation anxiety with your doctor?”

“
What separation
anxiety?”

“
Oh, come on, sweetie. You
can’t stand being away from her for more than an hour or two. And
then this shit you’ve brought up about a family bed recently. I’m a
bit worried, that’s all.”

Trey was starting to piss me off. That wasn't
a good thing for a couple on their wedding night I presumed.

“
For the last time, a family
bed isn't about separation anxiety. You’ve already told me ‘no’ so
why are you bringing it up again?”

“
It’s not just that; what
about you not wanting to be away from her even for our honeymoon?
We fought about that, remember?”

Of course, I remembered. It had only been
last week, for Chrissake. All I'd done was mention that it might be
better to take Preston with us to Tybee Island rather than have to
pump my breasts five times a day for the three days prior to
leaving and then ‘pump and dump’ eight times a day for the two days
we were gone.

Trey had exploded when I'd mentioned it. He
made me feel like some sort of "Mommy Dearest" control freak. It
hadn't gone well. I'd given him the silent treatment for the better
part of a day. In the end, he'd put his foot down again on that
one.

“
I just think it may be
something to discuss with your doctor. It could be some form of
post-partum stress or depression.”

“
Trey, I'm not going to let
you make me feel like some kind of nut job because I love my baby
and I worry about her. Why do you think that's so
abnormal?”

“
I’m sorry I brought it up,”
he replied, raking his hand through his just-fucked hair. “It’s our
wedding night, baby. Let’s not argue, okay?”

“
You started the shit,” I
snapped.

“
Come on,” he said reaching
his hand down for me to take his, “let’s go shower, Mrs.
Sinclair.”

I looked up at him seeing his warm and loving
smile. I knew that he only cared and worried about me. Maybe I did
have an attachment issue, but it was only because I loved Preston
so much. I hadn’t told Trey about my recent dreams. They were the
reason I didn’t want to leave Preston for any length of time. I
smiled up at my gorgeous husband, taking his hand and letting him
pull me into the bathroom where we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves in
the shower.

Trey and I'd returned to the manor the next
morning to pack for Tybee Island. I'd been able to nurse Preston
one last time before we left, getting my last “fix” with her before
we left for two days. I kissed her soft checks again and again.

Our two days and two nights at Tybee were
totally relaxing, romantic and sex-filled. We spent time on the
beach, our honeymoon cottage included a very private beach which we
thoroughly enjoyed - naked. Trey and I reconnected sexually to
heights of passion I'd not imagined possible. We were inseparable.
I felt so connected to him once again emotionally and sexually.

Once we returned to Atlanta, it was business
as usual. Trey resumed his hectic schedule at work. Gina and I hung
out when possible, and Preston seemed to be growing and changing on
a daily basis. I celebrated my 22nd birthday with Trey and the baby
at home.

Trey had, once again, put his foot down and
said that Preston was old enough to be sleeping in the crib in her
own room. He moved the baby monitor to her room and she commenced
sleeping in her crib there, much to my dismay. Trey was good about
hearing her through the night. He took responsibility for getting
up and going to get her from her room, bringing her to our bed so
that she could nurse. He made sure once she'd finished nursing she
was carried back to her own bed and tucked in. I missed having her
fall asleep with us after nursing, but Trey was concerned that one
of us might inadvertently roll over onto her. He also took
advantage of the fact that once I was awakened for her feedings we
could squeeze some sex in right afterward.

It was the second week of August. Trey had
just celebrated his 32nd birthday; Preston was a little over three
months old. Gina had called earlier that morning, asking if Preston
and I wanted to join her for lunch. I suggested that she come over
to the apartment and I'd make lunch.

The truth was I didn’t like taking the baby
out in the August heat in Georgia. She'd been out over the past few
days while I ran errands, went shopping and drove out to our house
under construction to meet with a decorator.

Preston had a mild case of prickly heat on
her bottom and the back of her neck. I'd been putting her in cloth
diapers and pretty much letting her go without a shirt trying to
get it cleared up.

I bathed Preston, putting some calamine
lotion and a light dusting of a cornstarch-based powder on her
diaper area. She was developing her own little personality now.
Like Mommy, she loved her baths and loved it when I rubbed her skin
with lotion. I was putting calamine lotion on her bottom at the
moment. She was smiling and gurgling, trying her best to grab her
feet that were up in the air while I was putting the cloth diaper
up under her bottom. My cell phone rang. I quickly raised the sides
on her changing table and pulled my phone out of the pocket of my
shorts.

“
Mrs. Sinclair?” The voice
on the other end wasn't familiar to me.

“
Yes,” I responded, “this is
Tylar Sinclair.”

“
Mrs. Sinclair, this is
Cathy, Jean Harris’s daughter calling. I’m afraid there’s been an
accident. My mother is in intensive care. I wanted to let you know
on account of she won’t be coming in to work for you until further
notice.”

“
Oh, my God,” I breathed.
“Cathy, what happened?”

Cathy explained that Jean had been on her way
home from our apartment the previous evening. Apparently, as she
got off of the bus that took her from our neighborhood to hers and
started across the street, a car careened out of nowhere hitting
her. Jean had rolled off of the hood of the car onto the street.
The car had fled and no one had been around close enough to get the
license plate numbers. The car was simply described as a newer
model SUV of some type. The color was white. Not much to go on for
certain.

I asked Cathy the extent of Jean’s injuries.
All that she knew for sure was that Jean had a broken shoulder, a
broken leg, several broken ribs and a head injury, which had
rendered her comatose for the time being. Cathy said that the
doctors had hope that the swelling would go down in the next week
or so. I asked that Cathy keep me posted as to her mother’s
condition and I got her room number at the hospital. I was reeling
with shock. How could something that terrible happen to someone so
sweet like Jean? What kind of monster would simply drive off?

The truth was that since I'd been home since
Preston's arrival, I'd really come to depend on Jean’s help with
her those three days per week she was scheduled. The things that
came up with the new house, as well as handling the bills, shopping
and running errands for Trey had been made possible because Jean
was more than willing to watch Preston on the days that she was
scheduled at our apartment. I couldn't think of anyone else that
I'd trust with Preston other than Jean or family.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard
Preston start to fuss. I finished dressing her for Gina’s visit
putting her in a cute little yellow sun suit. I lifted my freshly
diapered and dressed baby from the changing table and cuddled her
against me. I was rattled from the news about Jean. Preston had
taken well to Jean. She'd been a big help to me in many ways.

I headed to the living room, baby in arms. We
settled on the couch as I turned the television on with the remote.
I got her situated for her feeding. There was something very
unsettling about the whole incident. I realized that things like
that happened every day, particularly in large cities but this just
seemed so random and yet close.

Once Preston finished feeding, she drifted
off to sleep. I placed her into the crib in her bedroom and decided
to phone Trey to let him know about Jean. I talked to Tonya; Trey
was in depositions. She promised she'd have him phone home as soon
as he was free. I went to the kitchen and started making chicken
salad for our lunch. I'd been tempted to call Gina and re-schedule
but decided I needed the company of a friend right now. Right after
I'd finished making the chicken salad and had just put the
croissants into the oven to warm, Trey phoned me back. His voice
had the uncanny ability to soothe and calm me.

“
How’s my baby?” he greeted
me when I answered the phone.

“
Oh, she’s down for the
count at the moment. I expect she'll be waking up any time
now.”

“
I meant you, baby,” he said
in his smooth and silky voice. My heart fluttered.

“
Not so well,” I admitted.
“I had a phone call earlier from Jean’s daughter Cathy. Jean was
hit by a hit-and-run driver last evening as she crossed her street
from the bus stop. She's in intensive care.”

“
Oh, God, that’s horrible,”
he replied. “How bad is she?”

I relayed to him everything that Cathy had
relayed to me. Trey said he would phone the hospital and the police
precinct to see if any new information had come in. He instructed
me to relax and stay calm. He asked if Gina was still coming over.
He seemed to relax when I told him the plans for lunch were still
on. I could tell Trey knew I was stressed about the thing with
Jean. “I'll be home on time this evening, baby,” he assured me.
“We’ll talk more then, okay?”

“
Okay,” I
replied.

“
Hey, I love you,” he said
softly.

“
I love you, too,” I
replied.

“
Give ‘Bobbin’ a kiss from
Daddy, okay?”

“
I will,” I said,
smiling.

Right after I'd gotten off of the phone with
Trey, the doorman buzzed letting me know that Gina was on her way
up. When I opened the door to Gina I knew immediately something was
wrong. She had her sunglasses on inside of the building. “What is
it, Gina?”

“
I caught Ian fucking around
on me,” she said unable to hold the tears back. “I'm going to kill
him and the bitch!”

“
Oh my God, Gina, what are
you talking about?”

I grabbed her hand pulling her over to sit
down. I'd never seen Gina distraught about anything. The fact that
Ian would cheat on her was unfathomable to me. He seemed so totally
devoted to her. The same way that Trey was devoted to me.

“
We’ve had problems in the
bedroom,” she admitted.

“
Since when?” I asked
totally dumbfounded.

“
Since we’ve been trying to
get pregnant and not being able to,” she sobbed. “I know that I’ve
been putting a lot of pressure on Ian to go to his doctor and get
checked. It’s just that having the man checked first is way easier
than having fertility testing done on a woman. My own doctor told
me that.”

I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“
Ian has been putting it off
and putting it off. He’s too busy at the club, or let’s give it
another month - always another fucking excuse.”

She stopped to get a tissue out of her purse
to wipe her nose. “Anyway, last night I knew he had to close the
club so I thought I'd surprise him and go there at closing wearing
nothing under my trench coat except some edible undies I bought in
his favorite flavor. I get to the club and David the bartender is
cleaning up downstairs. He tells me that Ian is up in his office
going over the nightly receipts. I go up to his office and he’s in
there all right. He sure as hell wasn’t counting any receipts
though!”

At this point Gina broke out into loud
sobbing. “He was on the couch in his office humping Shelly, the
upstairs bartender who is like 21 years old!”

“
Oh, my God! I'm so sorry.
What did you do?”

“
I freaked out, naturally. I
called him every name in the book and then turned to the skank and
wished her luck. I told her not to worry about birth control
because the fucker was shooting blanks! Then I left, went home and
packed his suitcase. I left it on the front stoop. Do you think
Trey will represent me in my divorce?”

“
Slow down,” I advised.
“Don’t do anything rash, just yet.”

“
What the hell, Tylar? Do
you mean to tell me that if you caught Trey with his bare ass up in
the air slamming his dick into some random chick you wouldn’t beat
a fast path to a lawyer?”

“
Trey would never . .
.”

I realized how that sounded to someone who
had never considered that her husband was capable of such an act of
betrayal, either.