“How old is Tobias?”
“Three weeks old. After Carrie—” he broke off, his breathing coming fast again. “After she died, he wasn’t well, and they had to help him out, which gave her parents time to get in touch and Dad’s lawyer to get it all sorted out.”
“But you only found out just before me and Elijah went to help out Archer?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed audibly and pulled himself away from the wall, his hands squeezed tightly into fists at his sides. “Marcus, what if I’m a shit dad? What if I fuck him up, and he hates me forever? Or if I’m so bad at it, they take him away from me? I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I feel like people are going to think I can’t do it.”
“Then prove them wrong. Listen, if they didn’t think you could do it, Carrie’s parents would have got their lawyer to fight for custody. Hell, your parents would have stepped in and suggested you stay with them so they could help you if they thought you couldn’t do it. We all know you can, so now you just have to do it.”
Remy was quiet for so long that I was starting to worry he’d shut down like he usually did when he was emotional, but then he blew out a breath.
“Can you help me sort out all the shit I bought from the store? I don’t want to put the poor kid in a diaper that covers him from head to toe.”
Tilting my head to the side, I shot him a grin. “You mean, that’s not what you’re meant to do?” When it looked like he was about to freak out, I slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re cool, man. Let’s put them in size order and get it all organized like that. Did you get formula for him?”
Pointing at two bags on the counter, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s all the ones they had, but again, I don’t know which one I’m meant to give him now. Carrie’s parents gave me a couple of tins, though, so I’ll be okay for now. I bought this machine that cleans the bottles, and it’s got instructions that tell you how, but I also got more bottles in case I need them.”
“You’re not kidding.” I whistled softly. “You did get everything.”
Shove his hand through his hair agitatedly, Remy started pacing. “Yeah, I got everything I could find, but that doesn’t help me, man. I don’t know when he needs something in a different size, what kind of formula he’s meant to use, if he’s allergic to anything, if he’s in pain, what different things mean on babies like rashes and shit… I feel like I’m suffocating.”
His chest was moving rapidly again, and I knew we were as close to a meltdown as Remy would have, given that he buried things deep before it could happen. My concern was, if he actually tipped over the edge or got closer to it, he’d convince himself he couldn’t do this, and that’d be it. He deserved to be in his son’s life, and his son deserved his dad.
“Okay, bear with me while I explain what I’m about to suggest.” When he just stared at me, I pulled my phone out. “I’m going to call Santana—”
“Fuck, no.”
“Let me finish,” I clipped. “She was a babysitter from age thirteen, plus you know her little brother’s ten years younger than her. She’s been around babies, and she knows what to do with them more than we do. Tell her what’s going on, let her help you out, and learn from her.”
Rubbing his hand over his chin, he contemplated it, and I could see the war going on inside his head.
“First thing tomorrow, people are going to find out about Tobias, so she’s going to know anyway. It’s up to you if you’ll accept help from her or not.”
Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he hung his head to look at his bare feet. “Make the call.”
There was no guarantee that Santana was a baby whisperer, but right now, she was the only person here who knew about babies.
I wanted to go and wake Addy up, but she’d been stressed before bed because there was an issue with the song, and I knew she had a full day ahead of her tomorrow. I didn’t want her sleep-deprived and stressed because that’d just fuck everything up for her. Plus, she’d been as lost as I was tonight when Bronte started crying, so she wouldn’t know the answers to Remy’s questions.
Hitting the call icon under Santana’s details on my phone, I listened to it ring and waited for her to answer. It only took three rings, and then she picked it up.
“Marcus, is everything okay?”
“I hate to wake you up in the middle of the night, but could you meet me at Remy’s house?”