Pretty Baby

Chapter 2

The incessant pounding on the door feels like a jackhammer drilling directly into my throbbing skull. I groan into the plush cushions of the bed, trying in vain to burrow deeper and escape the relentless noise assaulting my hungover brain.

"Zac! Open up, man, I know your sorry ass is in there!"

Xavier's gruff voice cuts through the fog like a hot knife. Shit, I must have really gotten drunk last night to have slept through his initial barrage of knocking. With herculean effort, I peel myself out of bed, the room spinning precariously as I stumble towards the door on unsteady legs.

"Keep your damn shirt on! I'm coming," I grumble, my voice sounding foreign and sandpaper rough. I put pants on and stumble to the living room.

Xavier leans on the front door, his usual scowl firmly etched into the craggy lines of his face. But it's the tiny wicker bassinet at his feet that stops me dead in my tracks. A soft cotton blanket is draped over the top, obscuring whatever lies within.

"The hell is this?" I gesture vaguely at the basket, a tiny whimper like a newborn kitten's cry emanating from the folds of fabric.

Xavier shakes his head slowly, his expression grave. "You're not gonna believe this one, Zac. Just take a look for yourself."

With leaden steps, I approach the bassinet, a sense of trepidation gnawing at my gut. I peel back the soft cotton blanket to reveal a newborn baby swaddled inside - her eyes scrunched shut, rosebud lips parted in a silent cry. A tiny tuft of dark hair crowns her head, matted against the delicate skin. Her miniature fists are balled up tightly against her chest, her entire body barely bigger than a football.

"You gotta be kidding me…," I breathe out, my fingers unconsciously raking through my disheveled bedhead. "Is this some sort of fucked up prank, Xav? Because it's not funny, man."

"See for yourself." He nods towards an envelope resting in the bassinet, the crisp white paper stark against the woven wicker exterior.

With shaking hands, I tear open the envelope, a single sheet of paper unfolding to reveal Chloe's unmistakable looping scrawl. The words seem to blur on the page as I scan them rapidly, my heart pounding in my ears.

Zac,

If you're reading this, it means I've gone through with it. I couldn't keep living this lie any longer. The truth is, I never wanted kids - the thought of being a mother, of raising a child, terrifies me to my core. I know that makes me seem like a monster, but I have to be honest with myself and my feelings.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I didn't know how to tell you. I knew how much you've always dreamed of being a father, of making up for the fractured relationship you had with your own dad. But I just couldn't bring myself to go through with it, as much as I care about you. I'm sorry.

So, I ran. I ran like I always do when things get too heavy or scary. By the time you read this letter, I'll be long gone. Please don't try to find me, Zac. It's better this way, a clean break for both of us. This little girl deserves a chance at a real life, with a parent who can love her unconditionally in a way I'm simply incapable of.

Her name is up to you. I didn't feel right choosing one for her myself. Just know that she's healthy and the birth went smoothly with no complications. I hope you can find a way to forgive me one day for doing this. Maybe it's unforgivable. I don't know. All I know is I can't be the mother she needs me to be.

Goodbye, and I’m sorry Zac,

Chloe

I read and re-read the letter, the carefully crafted words seemingly morph and shift on the page each time I go over them. This can't be real. This has to be some sort of twisted nightmare brought on by too many drinks and a fucked up subconscious playing deranged tricks on me.

But the squirming infant in the bassinet is all too real. I reach a tentative hand inside, her tiny fingers instinctively grasping my calloused fingers with surprising strength. A daughter… my daughter that Chloe just abandoned to my care.

"Well, say something, man!" Xavier's voice finally snaps me out of my daze. "What kinda fucked up situation did that crazy ex of yours just drop on your doorstep?"

"It's Chloe's…," I murmur, still trying to fully process the gravity of the situation. "She just… left her. Left this baby girl on my doorstep like a fucking bundle of laundry to deal with."

Xavier shakes his head slowly, dumbfounded. "That crazy bitch. I always knew she had more than a few screws loose, but this? This is a whole new level of batshit insanity, even for her."

I can feel the anger starting to bubble up from my core, that familiar red haze of rage clouding my vision. "How could she do this? Just take off without a single word, dump this… this responsibility on me without any warning whatsoever?"

"Zac, take a breath, man." Xavier places his hand on my shoulder, grounding me before I can fully fly off the handle. "Getting worked up and losing your cool ain’t gonna help or change anything right now. We gotta figure out what the actual plan is here for dealing with this."

My eyes drift back down to the bassinet, to the scrunched up face and flailing limbs of the innocent new life that Chloe just tossed aside so callously. She's so small, so fragile and delicate… and she's all mine to care for now, like it or not.

"I don't know the first damn thing about being a dad, Xav," I say, the weight of it all crashing down on me like a lead weight. "How am I supposed to take care of a baby all on my own? I can barely take care of myself half the time as it is."

"Hey, you know I'm here to help however I can, man. You're not alone in this." Xavier's expression softens ever so slightly, a rarity for the perpetually gruff music veteran. "But you gotta want this, man. Taking care of a kid is the biggest challenge of your life. You up for it?"

I take a deep, steadying breath, cradling the bassinet in my arms as I move back inside the dimly lit living room. This little girl didn't ask for any of this, to be thrown into the world as an afterthought by her own mother. She deserves better than that. She deserves someone who will fight like hell for her, no matter how terrifying the road ahead may be. I knew Chloe never wanted kids, which I always admired about her. People with kids often judge couples who don’t want their lineage carried on. Chloe and I never cared what people thought. But all that is out the window now.

"Yeah, I'm up for it," I murmur, more to myself than Xavier as I settle onto the worn leather couch. "I don't have a choice...she's my flesh and blood."

As I gently lift the whimpering newborn into my arms, cradling her head in the crook of my elbow, her cries quiet ever so slightly. I study her delicate features. The button nose, the small lips, the dark lashes fanning across her flushed cheeks. In this moment, she's the only thing in the world that matters.

"You hear that, kiddo?" I brush a whisper-soft kiss against her downy hair. "It's just you and me against the world now. We'll figure this whole dad thing out together, one day at a time. I've got you."

Xavier settles into the armchair across from me, a contemplative look on his craggy face as he watches the scene unfold. "So what's the plan then, man? We obviously need to get her all the essential baby supplies and gear she needs. Cribs, clothes, diapers, the whole nine yards. And I can start making inquiries about getting you set up with a night nurse or some extra hands on deck."

"One thing at a time, Xav," I murmur, my gaze transfixed on my daughter's tiny features as she drifts off to sleep against my chest, her lips pursing into an adorable little fish-mouth. "First, we need to get her a name. She deserves that much after the shitty hand she's been dealt."

I tenderly stroke her velvet-soft cheek as a million different possibilities start running through my mind. Traditional classics like Emma or Sophia, unique picks like Willow or Remi, family names to honor the lineage she'll never know. For the first time in a long time, the path forward is crystal clear. I need to be there for this little girl in every way no one ever was for me.

"Don't worry, sweetie," I whisper, resolve settling into my bones. "Your dad's got you now. We'll get through this together, I promise. No matter what it takes."

"So let me get this straight..." Xavier rubs his temples, trying to make sense of the situation. "Chloe just shows up out of the blue, drops off a newborn baby that's yours, pulls a Houdini, and you want to pretend this is perfectly normal and take care of the baby?”

I nod wearily, my eyes never leaving my daughter's face as she sleeps peacefully in my arms. "That about sums up the crazy bitch's idea of responsibility."

"And you're sure the kid is yours? She didn't get knocked up by some other dude and try to pawn it off on you?"

"Come on, man..." I shoot Xavier an indignant look. "You really think I wouldn't know my own flesh and blood?"

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just playing devil's advocate here. This is a whole lot to wrap my head around."

As if on cue, the baby starts to stir, her face scrunching up as a thin wail escapes her lips. Instinctively, I bring her closer and start gently bouncing her in my arms.

“Shh...it's alright, sweetie. I got you."

The soothing motion seems to help for a moment before she launches into full meltdown mode, limbs flailing, face reddening as ear-piercing shrieks fill the room.

"What the hell did I do?" I panic, looking to Xavier for guidance.

He just shrugs unhelpfully. "Damned if I know. You're the dad now. Figure it out."

I try rocking her more vigorously, then patting her back, but nothing seems to work. Her cries only intensify, each wail driving a spike deeper into my hangover-addled brain.

"Okay, okay… let's think this through," I mutter to myself, pacing the room with her cradled against my chest. "She was just sleeping, so she can't be tired. Her diaper doesn't seem… yah, no.”

A thought occurs to me, and I sniff the air tentatively. "Oh, goddamn… she's definitely working on a nuclear payload back there."

"Well, get to work, Daddy Dearest," Xavier calls over the din. "Changing diapers is all part of the glamorous parenting gig."

I dig through the bag Chloe left and pick out a package of baby wipes and loose diapers.

Carefully, I lay her down on the coffee table, mentally preparing myself for whatever horrors await underneath the onesie. With trembling hands, I unsnap the buttons and peel back the fabric to reveal… utter chaos.

"Sweet merciful Christ..." I recoil at the unholy mess greeting me, fighting back a wave of nausea.

"You're the one who wanted to be a father," Xavier chuckles darkly. "Time to man up and embrace the shitshow."

Holding my breath, I grab a nearby roll of paper towels and get to work, trying in vain to clean up the biohazard zone. Somehow, I only make it worse, smearing the viscous sludge in streaks across her delicate skin.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" I cry, panic rising in my voice as her screams reach deafening new levels. "Xavier, help me out here!"

"Not a chance, amigo," he shakes his head firmly. "This is a one man job. You gotta learn to fly solo on this dad stuff."

With shaking hands, I finally manage to get her semi-cleaned up and into a fresh diaper, her cries downgrading to a whimpery hiccup. I slump back against the couch, emotionally and physically drained from the ordeal.

"How the hell am I gonna do this every day?" I look to Xavier, my voice small and defeated. "I can barely handle one diaper change without scarring her for life."

He fixes me with a level stare. "I’ve been your best friend for as long as I can remember. Trust me, I got you."

The baby lets out another mewling cry, and I scoop her up instinctively, holding her close.

"I know, I know... I still got a lot to learn," I murmur, rocking her gently. "But I'm gonna figure this out, one dirty diaper at a time. You and me, kiddo. We're a team now."

Xavier watches me with an inscrutable expression, almost… proud?

"Alright, first thing's first," he says gruffly. "We need to get you two set up properly. No more of this flying by the seat of your pants."

Over the next few hours, he takes charge calling in favors, barking orders, coordinating everything from baby supplies to overnight nursing assistance. By the time the sun sets, my living room is overflowing with boxes of diapers, onesies, toys, and a top-of-the-line crib.

I stare at the sleeping infant, dumbfounded, thinking about how I have no idea how to take care of a baby. Just then, the doorbell rings again. Dreading what this could possibly be, and if it could be any worse than having a baby dropped off, I ask Xavier to get the door. Xav opens it to find his mom, Linda.

"Xavier said you needed some help?" She grins and barges in, making herself at home.

"Uh, yeah… you could say that Mrs. Holmes.” I run my hands through my messy hair. "Apparently I'm a dad now?"

Linda squeals in delight. "Oh my god, let me see that little bundle!" She scoops up the carrier and cradles the baby, cooing at it. The infant opens its eyes, looking up at her curiously.

"Aren't you just the most precious little thing?" Linda tickles her cheek. "Don't worry, Auntie Linda will show your daddy the ropes."

I nudge Xavier in the ribs, “You called your mom?”

“Of course. Don’t worry. It’s just to get us through the night. Look how great I turned out by the way,” he grins.

Over the next few hours, Linda is a whirlwind of energy. She shows me how to make formula, swaddle, change diapers, and soothe my daughter.

By midnight, Linda starts to head out. "You've got this, Zac. Just remember, babies may seem scary, but all they need is love." Linda gives me a peck on the cheek and scoops up the baby, handing her carefully back to me.

"Thanks, Mrs. Holmes," I say softly, gently rocking my new child. "I owe you one."

As Xavier says goodbye to his mom, he turns to me, “You did good today, my friend," he says gruffly. "That little girl's gonna need you to be all in. No more of your typical, flaky bullshit."

I can only nod.

He claps me on the shoulder, allowing the briefest hint of a smile. “Now get some rest, because trust me… you're gonna need it."

As I stretch out on the couch, bone-tired, my mind races, oscillating between pure fear and a fierce protective instinct I've never felt before. This is it, the ultimate wake-up call to finally put someone else's needs above my own selfish vices.