03

#####03

Replacing the baby in the stroller with much reluctance, I straighten up to face Mr Holt, my heart pounding a mile a minute as he just stares at me with his emotionless grey eyes. I let my eyes wander on their own, looking past his appearance to assess his shopping basket which holds process baby food…more processed baby food…a box of baby crackers…more processed stuff…a milk…geriatric milk….wait, what ?

« Is all that for him ? » I ask softly in shock at how limited his knowledge towards infant care is and this is just my assumption through him calling his son an ‘it’ and his choice in baby groceries. « The geriatric milk ? »

For a split second, I see a flash of confusion ignite in his eyes before he hides it by replacing it with a neutral look, countering, « No, the milk is for my housekeeper. »

Taking it out of his shopping basket despite declaring that it was for his housekeeper, I shake my head in silent amusement as his cheeks turn a light pink. Pushing the stroller forward after some deep thought, I pass him my basket.

« I’ll help you, » I propose softly, my cheeks heating up a little at how bold I’m being, walking forward. « But first, we’re going to have to put all that processed stuff back. Babies can’t eat that much pre-made stuff. »

Hoping in my mind that he’d actually follow after me, I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I hear the soft clicking of his business shoes behind me. Thank goodness…The embarrassment if he didn’t follow after me it would have haunted me for the rest of my life.

Fifteen minutes into picking out different baby products off the shelves and passing them to him, I begin to wonder how I always put myself into awkward situations like this one, you know helping out others even when you shouldn’t be helping them, in all honesty, I was just thinking of crashing into bed and sleeping the weekend away but as usual, nothing ever goes to plan, at least for me.

Going on my tip toes while reaching for a tin of milk powder situated on the top shelf that’s meant for one to three-month-olds, I pause, for a minute turning to Mr Holt just as he begins to examine a packet of carrots I had put into his basket, asking curiously, « How old is your son ? »

« Three months, » He replies instantly, continuing to examine the carrots comparing it to a bottle of the processed baby food from the shelf in front of him. « I think. »

Sighing softly, I silently take the packet of carrots out of his hand, replacing it with a tin of baby milk powder that has an age range of two to three months, deciding that we should hurry things along I end up passing him a few more things as we complete the entire aisle heading towards the cash register.

With me pushing the stroller out into the street and Mr Holt holding our grocery bags, neither of us says anything more to each other as we walk up to a sleek Audi A4 parked on the sidewalk next to a parking meter, which stops me in my tracks. Well, isn’t this is a good reminder to myself that he’s richer than Croesus ? Jumping slightly when he pops open the boot, Mr Holt neatly places paper bags inside.

« Um…this should last you through the weekend…and probably the start of the week as well, » I murmur casually as he packs away the stroller, his baby sleeping soundly on my shoulder. « I’ll just put this little guy into the car and I’ll be on my way… »

Opening the backseat door, I freeze when I don’t see a baby car seat…he does have a baby car seat, right ? Closing the door with my bum, I open the passenger seat, internally hoping that there is a car seat but to my surprise, there isn’t one.

« Mr Holt, where’s your car seat ? » I ask, my voice higher than usual as he shuts the boot. « I don’t think he can sit on a chair this large yet… »

Rubbing his lower lip with his index finger in thought, he replies, « I never invested in one. Usually, I just lay it on the seat and put the seatbelt on it. »

You have got to be kidding me…

Biting my lower lip, I offer softly, « I can lend you my car seat…my apartment is just over there… »

Nodding, he carries my paper bag of groceries as I lead the way towards the apartment complex, going up to the third level by the stairs, passing Mr Holt my keys he unlocks the door, revealing the averagely sized and cosy apartment.

Checking for signs of my roommate from university, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see no indication of her being home as he follows into the apartment after me, setting the baby in the cot I always had in the corner of the living room, I turn around to face him.

« Make yourself comfortable, » I nervously blabber, dropping my bag onto the two-person sofa, picking up some stray brazils and panties from it as I slip by him. « Um…there’s water on the table in the kitchen..the toilet is just there in the middle of the walkway…yeah…I’ll be right back… »

Running around the apartment, I look high and low for the car seat which I manage to find fifteen minutes into my search in my bedroom acting as a paper holder. Taking the papers off of it, I quickly carry the car seat out to Mr Holt who takes it out of my hand when I come into view, our fingers brushing against each other momentarily, making my heart skip a beat.

« Yeah…so now you’re all set for the weekend, » I stutter, rocking nervously on my heels as he just towers over me. « Um…I’ll get the baby then you can probably get home…Oh…If you need any help over the weekend about how to make fresh baby food ? You can ask Mr King for my number… »

Turning around to pick up the baby from the cot, I gently hold him to my chest, as he softly whines in his sleep, my lips gently pull themselves into a soft smile when his stubby little hand shoots out to grasp the front of my blouse.

« Danny, » Mr Holt says suddenly behind me, making me turn to look at him in shock. « Its name is Danny. »

Momentarily forgetting that I am not only in the company of a man who has zero idea on how to take care of a baby but also holding that said baby, I smile widely, looking back down on the little angel who now has a name, giggling softly, « Danny…sweet little Danny… »

Suddenly a sharp crisp ringtone blares through the apartment, waking the baby up in the harshest and most unexpected of ways, heck the ringtone even made me jump let alone the wailing baby. Gently placing the baby car seat on the floor, Mr Holt scowls deeply as he answers the call.

« This better be good, » He snaps into the receiver, his tone is coarse and threatening, making even the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

Patting Danny’s back in an attempt to calm him down, I end up walking into the kitchen where Danny’s wails are less likely to be heard. Bouncing him on my hip, I make soft cooing sounds in admittedly a very bad attempt to clam him down seeing as he is only three months old.

« It’s okay, » I whisper softly, doubting whether or not he can actually hear me over his crying. « Danny, shush…it’s okay… »

Repeating this over and over again, Danny’s wails slowly turn into little whimpers, his pretty grey eyes look at me curiously as I rub his back soothingly. Judging by the little vibrations I’m feeling against my breast, I decide that he would have woken up crying regardless of whether or not Mr Holt’s phone rang.

Pouring some hot water over a milk bottle I had taken down form one of the shelves, I let it seep in for about three minutes before I scoop some of the formula milk I have meant for three-month-olds into the bottle, questioning briefly as to why I even have a formula in this age range in my pantry.

Maybe I bought it by mistake once and I never took it back to the store… I reason with myself, reminding myself that Mr King’s son was ten months old when I took care of him which now provides me with an excuse as to why I still have a car seat amongst a few other baby products like diapers and wet wipes in my bedroom. We sometimes brought our work to the apartment which back then meant Leo had to come along too so there I have it puzzle solved.

« Okay, » I sigh softly, holding Danny sideways, rubbing the nipple of the bottle on his lips, trying to get him to take it in. « Mummum time…ahh… »

Reaching out to hold the milk bottle with me as he drinks, Danny eagerly sucks up the creamy liquid, making little slurping sounds as he swallows, making my way out into the living room where Mr Holt is just about done with his call, I don’t fail to notice that he looks less amused.

« Miss Summers, if I may inconvenience you tonight, » He declares hurriedly as he comes right up to me, his grey eyes stormy and irritated. « I’ll have to entrust you to look after it tonight. If possible, I’ll pick it up somewhere around ten tomorrow morning otherwise I’ll let you know tomorrow. »

Before I can make a reply or question him about this sudden request, Mr Holt has already rushed out the apartment door with his cell phone pressed up against his ear, his deep voice fading quickly away as he leaves. Dumbfounded, I stand in the living room with Danny still readily drinking from the bottle.

What just happened ?