“Right,” she said with more enthusiasm than warranted. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“You babysat as a teenager, right?”
Beth hated to disillusion him. “Not really. A little, I guess, but all the kids were older. No babies.”
Sam groaned. “I have the feeling we’re both in over our heads.”
“I’ve never been around babies much,” she confessed, and seemed as nervous about this as Sam was.
“You think I have?” he asked.
The front door opened and Rocco stepped outside and onto the porch. “You two going to sit in the car all night or are you going to come inside?” He looked pointedly at his watch. “Dinner reservations are at six.”
“Guess we can’t put it off any longer,” Beth said.
“Looks that way,” Sam agreed.
Nichole was holding Matthew in her arms when they stepped inside. She’d written out a list of instructions and phone numbers in case they had any trouble. Sam took the tablet and read over the first page. Looked to him like the history of the Roman Empire would be a shorter read.
Beth took the baby from her friend. Thankfully, he was asleep.
“I really appreciate this,” Nichole whispered.
“We’re happy to do it,” Beth told her, looking down at the baby.
“Hey,” Sam said, frowning at Rocco. “Speak for yourself.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Beth said, smiling. “He loves Matthew.”
“No way am I changing a poopy diaper. I want to make that clear right now.”
“Honey, come on,” Rocco urged. “We’re going to be late.”
“I already said I’d handle the poop,” Beth assured Sam. She looked at Nichole and said, “Go. We’ve got this. And happy birthday. Enjoy tonight with your husband.”
Nichole hesitated and Rocco brought her coat and, before she could make an excuse to linger, ushered her out the door.
When it clicked shut, Sam stiffened. It sounded to him like a jail cell closing.
Beth sat down with Matthew. Looking at her with the baby asleep in her arms did something funny to his heart. For a long moment all Sam seemed capable of doing was staring at her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more beautiful, and that was saying something.
“You don’t need to hold him,” Sam said, forcing himself to look away before his heart turned to mush. “I can put him down in that contraption he sits up in if you want.”
Beth looked up, her eyes smiling at him. “I enjoy holding him.”
Sam sat down next to her. “Thought you said you’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I haven’t. Doesn’t take much skill to hold a sleeping baby, Sam.”
Needing to touch her, he placed his arm around her shoulders. “You look good with a baby in your arms.”
She turned to smile at him again and he couldn’t resist kissing her. Sam doubted he’d ever grow tired of kissing Beth. She angled her head toward him and soon they were making out like no tomorrow. Sam wove his hands into her hair, and their breathing grew heavy as the lengthy exchange continued. When they broke apart, they were both nearly panting.
“You make me forget the baby,” Beth whispered.
“What baby?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers.
Beth giggled softly. “Your kisses are addictive, you know that, right?”
“That’s what all the girls say,” he teased.
She playfully slapped his upper arm and Sam laughed. Apparently, he was louder than he thought, because Matthew jumped as though startled and let out a wail. With panic-stricken eyes, Beth looked to him. “What should I do now?”
“Gently bounce him,” he suggested, although he was unsure.
She did, but that only seemed to infuriate Matthew.
“Maybe he’s hungry,” Beth said. She reached for the list of instructions Nichole had left. She flipped through the first few pages and announced, “It says here he usually eats dinner around this time. It needs to be heated. Here,” she said, and passed off the wailing baby to him. “I’ll go heat up his baby food.”
Sam took Matthew and gently tucked him against his side. “Hey, little man, what’s the problem?”
Whatever was bothering him, the kid wasn’t giving it up. Not knowing what else to do, Sam followed Beth into the kitchen. She’d located the jar of baby food and had it open and was dishing it up to set inside the microwave.
“Hey, look, dinner,” Sam said, pointing it out to the baby. “Oh yum, peas. Bet you love peas.”
Matthew kicked and cried even louder. “I don’t think he’s overly fond of peas,” he told Beth.
Her eyes filled with concern. “Do you think I should look for something else? This is what Nichole left out.”
“No. Let’s go with the peas.”
Beth reached for the tablet a second time. “Nichole’s note says we need to change his diaper before we feed him. Do you want me to do that?”
Sam weighed the question. Beth was busy getting Matthew’s dinner ready. He should be able to handle changing the simple diaper. That sounded doable.
“You finish up here. I’ll take care of the diaper.” He took the baby into the nursery and set him down on the changer. Thankfully, Nichole had a stack of disposable diapers close at hand.
Once Sam managed to unsnap the kid’s pants, Matthew started squirming, twisting around so that his butt was halfway in the air.
“Hey, buddy, I need a bit of cooperation here.” At least Matthew had stopped screeching.
“How’s it going in there?” Beth called out.
“Not good,” Sam shouted back. “Could you give me a hand?”
“On my way.”
As soon as Beth was in the room, he instructed, “You change him and I’ll hold him down.”
“Okay.” She didn’t sound all that confident, but she didn’t argue.
Sam changed places with her so that he was at the head of the changer. As soon as Matthew’s belly was exposed, Sam bent down and nuzzled him, blowing on his stomach, making a loud noise. Matthew kicked up his legs and laughed.
Beth quickly cleaned his bottom and lifted up his legs in order to get the fresh diaper under him. “Nichole manages to do this all on her own and it’s taking the both of us.”
“He likes to squirm.”
With some difficulty, Beth managed to get the diaper on him and re-snap his pants. Tugging gently on his arms, Sam got Matthew to a standing position and lifted him into his arms. “Okay, little man, it’s dinnertime.”
They returned to the kitchen, and while Sam got the baby strapped into the high chair, Beth washed her hands and then brought out the peas and the peaches.
“You lucky boy. Look here,” Sam said, pointing to the peaches.
Matthew gleefully slapped his hands against the tray.
“You feed him,” Beth suggested.
“Me?”
“You do the peas and I’ll do the peaches.”
“I’ll do the peaches. He hates peas.”
Matthew continued to slap the tray. “All right, all right,” he agreed. “I’ll do the peas.”
Sam sat down in front of the high chair and dipped the coated spoon into the peas. “Open up,” he instructed the baby. Instead, Matthew grabbed hold of the spoon, spilling the peas all down his front.
“I forgot the bib,” Beth cried, and raced to get it. She brought a washcloth back with her, but by then Matthew had managed to get peas all over the front of Sam’s shirt.
Beth gasped. “How’d he manage that?”
“He flung a spoonful of peas at me.”
“Try the peaches,” she suggested.
It didn’t matter what Sam fed the kid, Matthew wanted to feed himself. The spoon made it into his mouth about one out of five attempts. By the time the dish was empty there were peas and peaches in a two-foot radius around the high chair and a good majority of it was on Sam as well.
Beth planted her hands over her mouth. “Oh Sam.”
Peas and peaches were smeared all over Matthew’s tray, and the kid looked like he wore half of his dinner on his face and hair. The baby couldn’t be happier, though. It was as if his sole mission had been to see how much food he could get on Sam and himself.