Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I bit my lip. “My work at the Camorra’s clinic allows my schedule to be flexible. I’ll try to work shifts at night or in the evening. And I still have two weeks before I’m even supposed to start working there.”
“But he can’t be alone.”
“I know,” I said. “Nevio can watch him on occasion, and…” I gave her a sheepish smile.
Carlotta pursed her lips. “And I can take care of him when Nevio can’t, so always?”
I sent her an apologetic smile. I knew I was asking a lot. “I’ll try to do all the work, and it’s only going to be for a few weeks. I’ll kick Nevio’s ass as often as possible.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can keep an eye on him some nights when you work.”
I hugged her. Another knock sounded and Carlotta pulled away and stalked toward the door. She opened it with a little more force than necessary and gave Nevio one of the darkest looks I’d ever seen on her face. It didn’t faze him in the slightest, judging from his unimpressed expression.
“Do you have a room where I can put his stuff?” Nevio asked, directed at me.
“I suppose my room. We don’t have a nursery since we didn’t plan on having children over,” I said, letting my own annoyance shine through. I motioned him to follow me as I headed for my room. It was moderately sized. Carlotta and I had wanted a small apartment, but it was still bigger than most rooms on campus.
Nevio began unpacking everything, then put together the crib. He positioned it beside my bed once it was done. I released a low breath, reality sinking in. While I had experience babysitting Roman, I’d never been solely responsible for a baby. His parents had always been a call away if I had questions or needed help. This was different.
Nevio ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes settling on the baby still asleep in my arms. I was rocking on my heels lightly because it was a move that Roman had always loved, and it seemed to soothe Battista too.
“You’re good at this,” he murmured. “Good with him.” Nevio’s gaze hit me, warm and appreciative in a way I’d rarely seen.
“You can be too if you want,” I said firmly. I didn’t want him to turn this into a natural motherly instinct thing and use that as his way out of responsibility.
Nevio’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile, but he didn’t reply. “Where do you want the rest of his stuff?”
“Everything for his bottles in the kitchen and the changing station in the bathroom.”
I slowly walked into the kitchen and found Carlotta. My parents had stocked our fridge with everything we might need in the next few days. She stared into the fridge but didn’t take anything out. Her scowl suggested the inside of the device had personally insulted her. Her fingers twisted the ancient cross around her neck, which had been her grandmother’s.
Battista stirred in my hold and let out a short cry as his eyes peeled open. Then his gentle protest turned to high-pitched wails. Nevio came in from the bathroom where he’d set up the changing station, looking alarmed. “What’s up?”
“Maybe he’s hungry,” I said, intensifying my rocking, which only made Battista squirm and cry harder.
“You could make him a bottle. Aurora’s arms are full,” Carlotta said with a very tight smile, the cross in her hand turned toward Nevio as if she was trying to keep his evil from her. I doubted she noticed. Nevio shrugged and moved over to the formula we’d bought. He picked up the box and read over the description while the noise level in the kitchen reached headache-inducing volumes.
He cursed when he spilled hot water over the counter, then knocked over the formula and spread powder over himself and the floor. I sent Carlotta a pleading look. I knew Nevio needed to learn how to do this. He needed to step up, but I’d had a long day, and Battista’s cries were too much. She moved to Nevio’s side and took the box from him. After a quick scan of the instructions, she’d assembled the milk bottle within a minute, and I gave it to Battista, who immediately quieted.
Nevio leaned against the counter with a dark look and gave me an I-told-you-so look. I shook my head. “This doesn’t mean anything. Most fathers have to learn how to take care of a baby. It doesn’t come naturally. In a few weeks, you’ll prepare a bottle with your eyes closed.”
I really hoped that his parents were involved by then.
“Shouldn’t he eat solids at some point?” Nevio asked, only briefly glancing at Battista, who still happily sucked at his bottle.
“You can’t feed him pizza if that’s what you think,” I said, then yawned.