April 7, 2003

 

There was a muffled buzzing from an alarm clock that had been stashed underneath a pillow.   There was a groan as his wife fumbled to turn it off, then the slap of her arm across his ankles as she rolled over.

 

“Good morning, Dan’s feet,” she mumbled.  She tickled one with a light touch of her fingers and he reflexively jerked away.

 

“What’re you doing down there?” she whispered and struggled out from under the covers to join him at the foot of the bed.

 

“Watching Will sleep,” he answered, peering over into the bassinet.

 

Trixie grunted in annoyance.  “I really have been replaced, haven’t I?”

 

“Not at all.”  He took her hand and kissed each finger.  “I watched you sleep for a while when I first got home.”

 

Trixie stretched and moaned.  “Did I look peaceful?”

 

“You looked quite content.”

 

“Well, that’s a miracle.  Will and I had a rough night.”

 

Dan frowned.  “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, yes.  No fever or colic or anything like that.  Just fussy and hungry.  I’ll be so glad when he starts sleeping through the night.”  She moaned again.  “First day back to work and I’ve had about three hours of sleep, non-consecutively.  Ugh.”

 

“Well, I’m off ‘til Friday night, so I’ll take the dark o’clock feedings the rest of this week and let you get some solid sleep.  Make it through today and you’re golden.”

 

“Ah, make it through today.  There’s the trick,” she muttered.  In contrast to her grumbling, she hopped energetically out of bed and began pulling clothes out of the closet and dresser and laying them on the bed, humming cheerfully as she moved around the room.

 

“Are you excited about going back to work?”

 

She looked guilty.  “Yes.  Is that wrong?”  Without waiting for him to answer, she added, “It’s not that I don’t love being with Will, I’m just ... bored.  It would’ve been a lot more fun to take my maternity leave when he was four or five.”

 

Dan chuckled.  “There’s nothing wrong with it.  I’m going to enjoy our father-son time.”

 

Trixie snorted.  “You mean father-father time.  It’s going to be a pretty one-sided relationship for a while yet.  Seriously, Dan, his whole existence is eating and sleeping.  It gets old fast.”

 

She started to head out to the bathroom for her shower and Dan reached for Will.

 

“What’re you doing?” she whispered hoarsely.

 

“Picking up the baby.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that.  He just got back to sleep.  You know what they say about letting sleeping babies lie.”

 

As she left the room, Dan grumbled, “I wasn’t going to wake him up.  I just wanted to hold him.”

 

He laid his head on his crossed arms and watched Will sleeping.  Then he closed his eyes and thought about catching some shut-eye himself.  It usually took him a few hours to wind down after he came home from work but he was pretty tired.  Maybe he could sleep while Will slept and then they could have their father-son bonding time.

 

He heard the shower come on in the bathroom down the hall.  He opened his eyes and looked at the baby again.

 

“He’s my son,” he grunted indignantly.  “Why shouldn’t I pick him up whenever I want to?  He’s sleeping soundly.  I’m not going to wake him up.”

 

He got off the bed and leaned over the bassinet, hesitating for only a moment as he remembered—and then pushed aside—Trixie’s warning.  Gently, he scooped the tiny baby into his arms.  Will fidgeted for a few seconds and then settled down.

 

“See?” Dan said triumphantly to Penny, who was lying underneath the bassinet.  “Still sleeping.  Am I Father of the Year, or what?”

 

He stood still for a moment, wondering where to sit with his son.  The master bedroom in the new house would be big enough for an armchair or small loveseat but this bedroom wasn’t.  Should he sit on the bed or take Will out to the living room and maybe watch the morning news until Will was awake and ready to eat?

 

Will squirmed again and his tiny face began to scrunch up and turn red.

 

“Uh-oh.”

 

Dan jiggled the baby in his arms but it did no good.  Will let out a small, kitten-like mew, and then, his lungs sufficiently warmed up, began crying lustfully.

 

“Shh, shh, baby.  It’s okay.  Daddy’s here.”

 

Dan rocked Will in his arms and continued to murmur quietly to him, all to no avail.  The crying grew louder and more vigorous.

 

Penny raised her head off her front paws and gave Dan a baleful look Trixie would’ve been proud of.

 

“He probably just needs his diaper changed,” Dan told the dog without much confidence.  A quick shift of his hand to the baby’s bottom revealed a diaper that was not wet or squishy.  Of course Trixie had changed him before she put him down because she had fed him just before that.  Will shouldn’t be either hungry or fussing about a dirty diaper.

 

“I don’t suppose babies can be teething this early, can they?” he asked Penny, who merely uttered a disgruntled moan and put her head back onto her paws.

 

“So, why else could he be crying?” Dan asked rhetorically, unwilling to admit that it was he who had disturbed his son’s precarious sleep.

 

He paced the cramped room for what seemed like an hour as he continued rocking the squalling infant, cajoling him to stop crying and go back to sleep before Trixie—

 

“What happened?”

 

He hadn’t even heard the shower turn off, Will was crying so loudly.

 

“He started crying,” he told her.  That was the truth ... sort of.

 

Trixie’s expression was very similar to the dog’s.  “Before or after you picked him up?” she accused.

 

“Before,” he said quickly.

 

Trixie cocked her head to one side, her blue eyes revealing not a hint of trust in his answer.

 

“After,” he admitted.  “But maybe it wasn’t my fault.  Maybe there’s something wrong with him.”

 

“Like what?  Malaria?”

 

“Maybe he’s teething.”

 

“Babies don’t teeth at two months, Dan.”

 

“Well, maybe we should call a doctor then.  Seriously, Trix, he’s been crying for a really, really long time.  That’s not natural.”

 

“I was in the shower for less than ten minutes and he wasn’t crying when I got in.  That’s not that long.”

 

“Less than ten minutes?  That’s it?  Really?”  Dan stopped his pacing to stare at her, which only made Will cry louder. 

 

Trixie towel dried her curls and threw the towel into the hamper in the closet.  She got dressed, grabbed her hairbrush off the top of the dresser and started out of the room.

 

“Where are you going?” Dan asked, trying not to whimper.

 

“To blow-dry my hair,” she answered.  She didn’t even seem to notice Will’s bawling.

 

“You’re not going to help me?”

 

“Oh, no!  You made him start crying.  You can figure out how to get him to stop crying.”

 

“Aw, come on, Trix.  Have a heart.”

 

She merely waved a hand over her head, dismissing him as she disappeared down the hallway.

 

“Okay, Will, okay, it’s okay.”  Dan continued his pacing and rocking.  Will continued wailing.  “What would Mommy do?”

 

Dan glanced downward.  Trixie would whip out a breast and start feeding her son.

 

“Women have all the breaks,” he grumbled as he glared at his lactose-deficient chest.

 

He started to sing softly and after a minute or so, Will’s cries started to diminish.  Dan grinned and continued singing.  Penny didn’t bother to lift her head but the tip of her tail wagged back and forth in approval.

 

Suddenly a caterwauling sure to bring Children’s Protective Services to the front door surged from his son.  Dan stared in astonishment that such a tiny baby could make such an earth-shattering noise, or be so red in the face he looked like he might spontaneously combust.  Penny scrambled out from underneath the bassinet and fled the room, tail tucked underneath her.

 

Trixie came running.  “What did you do to him?”

 

“Nothing!  I was singing.”

 

His wife snickered.  “Is your singing that bad?”

 

“No, I was singing and he started to quiet down.  Apparently, he was just getting his second wind.”

 

He held the baby out, certain Trixie was now going to come to his rescue, but she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“If he’s crying when I’m at work, what’re you going to do?”

 

“Um ... I don’t know.  Why don’t you show me what to do?”

 

She flashed a snarky grin.  “Nice try.  I told you not to pick him up.  I told you to let sleeping babies lie.  You’ll just have to suffer the consequences.”

 

“I can accept the fact that you want to punish me but how can you punish your son like that?”

 

“It won’t hurt him to cry.  There’s probably nothing wrong with him other than the fact that he was rudely awakened from his sleep.”

 

“You’re cold,” Dan grumbled.  “How can you stand there and listen to him cry like this and not want to do anything about it?”

 

“Because he wouldn’t be crying like that if you had just let him sleep.”  She glanced at her Lucy Radcliffe watch.  “I’ve gotta go or I’ll miss my train.”  Stepping closer, she bent her head down and kissed Will on his beet-red forehead.  “Bye-bye, baby.  Don’t be too hard on Daddy, okay?”  She stood on tiptoe and kissed Dan on his cheek.  “Good luck.”

 

And she was gone.

 

Will continued to cry, his lung capacity seemingly bottomless.  Dan stared at the bedroom door for a minute or two, certain Trixie hadn’t really left, waiting for her to come back.  When it became obvious that wasn’t going to happen, he sighed and started singing again.  Not any particular song, just his thoughts put to a nameless tune as he made up a silly, rhyming song.

 

“Will, Will, it’s time to stop crying.  Cut Daddy a break.  He’s really dying.  Mommy’s gone to work.  It’s just you and me.  Wouldn’t you rather ... have some tea?  Sail the sea?  Let it be, let it be?”

 

Will’s volume increased.

 

“Okay, I’m no John Lennon.  But at least it’s not Barry Manilow, right?”  He thought for a moment before crooning, “At the Copa, Copa Cabana, the hottest spot north of Havana.”

 

Another ear-splitting wail.

 

“Okay, okay, just checking.  Please stop crying, Will.  Hey, if you stop crying, I’ll ... I’ll buy you a pony.  How about a motorcycle?”

 

Bribery didn’t fly with his son, either.

 

“All right, enough is enough.  William Edwin Mangan,” he said in a soft, stern voice, “Stop.  Crying.  Now.”

 

It had been a pie-in-the-sky fancy but he really did have a vision of the crying ceasing immediately. Will hadn’t had the same vision, however.

 

Dan shifted the baby to his other arm and headed for the spare bedroom where they kept the computer.  “I’m Googling you, kiddo.  Somewhere in the vast reaches of the internet must be an answer to this riddle.”

 

He settled down in the chair and his stillness didn’t make Will any happier.  As quickly as he could with one hand, Dan typed in “baby won’t stop crying” and hit the search button.

 

“Colic, no.  Dirty diaper, no.  Teething, no.  Gas, no.  Hungry, no ... wait ... ‘If you just fed your baby an hour ago and you can’t imagine that he’s hungry again, try it anyway.’  Why didn’t Trixie suggest that?  You’re a Belden, of course you’re hungry!”

 

He practically leaped out of the chair and hurried to the kitchen.  He turned on the hot water tap at the sink and turned to get a bottle of breast milk out of the refrigerator.  Once the water was running hot enough, he held the bottle underneath the faucet and let it warm up.  All the while, he continued talking to Will and rocking him.

 

Finally, he sat down at the kitchen table and offered the bottle to Will.  He grabbed at it hungrily, sucked down several mouthfuls, then spit the nipple out and began crying again.

 

If not for the infant in his arms, it would’ve been the perfect moment to lean over and bang his head against the table.  Instead he stood and went to the phone hanging on the wall near the back door.

 

“I think we need to call the expert, William,” Dan said as he dialed a familiar number then waited for his savior to pick up.  “Moms?  I need help.”

 

“Will won’t stop crying?”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Well, for one thing I can hear him.  And for another, Trixie called me on her way to the train station.  She was very concerned.”

 

Dan sighed, relieved to know his wife wasn’t totally merciless about his predicament.  Or was she?  “Was she worried about me or about Will?”

 

Helen chuckled but Dan noticed she didn’t directly answer his question.  “Am I to understand that you picked up a sleeping baby?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, feeling properly chastised even though his mother-in-law’s tone was gentle.

 

“I know you’re smart enough to have checked all the basics.”

 

“He’s dry, he’s not hungry, he’s not gassy, he’s too young to be teething, and he’s not colicky,” Dan recited.  “I checked the non-basics, too.  He hasn’t been mauled by the dog, there are no fire ants in his diaper, and AC/DC isn’t rehearsing in the bedroom.”  He paused then admitted, “He’s crying because I woke him up.  But it was an accident.  I didn’t mean to.”

 

A quiet, muffled noise that could have been laughter told him that Helen was trying to restrain her amusement at his predicament.

 

“Tell me, Dan, have you learned to let sleeping babies lie?”

 

Dan made a face.  So when Trixie said, ‘You know what they say’, she had meant her mother.

 

“Trixie’s woken him up before,” he said in his defense.  “On purpose.”

 

“Newborn babies need to be woken up to be fed.  Their stomachs are very tiny, you know.  And that was only for the first couple of weeks.”

 

Dan knew that.  And of course Trixie’s mom knew it.  Duh.  She had done this before.  Dan wondered if she had been so self-assured when Brian was two months old.  The idea of his always capable mother-in-law needing to turn to somebody for advice was oddly comforting.

 

He glanced down.  Will was still fussing but the volume seemed to have decreased considerably in the last minute or two.  Instead of making him smile, it made him frown.

 

“He’s getting really quiet, Moms.  Do you suppose something’s wrong with him?”

 

Helen laughed out loud this time.  “New parents are never happy.  If their baby cries, they worry something’s wrong with him.  And when he’s quiet, they worry something else is wrong with him.”

 

“But maybe he made himself sick with all that crying, or strained a lung or something.  It was seriously loud, like Bobby, Larry and Terry playing football in the house.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up.  He could just be getting his second wind.”

 

“Third or fourth wind, more likely,” Dan grumbled.  “Maybe I should call Trixie?”

 

“You’re not going to call Trixie.  You’re not a babysitter, you’re Will’s father.  You can handle this.”

 

Her tone was firm and encouraging and Dan nodded his head, taking a deep breath while praying his son wasn’t doing the same thing.  “So, what do I do?”

 

“Most importantly, stay calm.  If you feel stressed or agitated in any way, put Will in his crib and walk away.”

 

“Just let him cry?”

 

“You’re basically just letting him cry now, aren’t you?” Helen pointed out.  “I know neither of you would ever hurt Will but you do both have somewhat volatile tempers.  Even if you’re holding it in, the baby will pick up on that and it’ll only make him more upset.”

 

Dan stared at the infant in his arms.  He was a cop.  He knew darn well that parents could lose their cool when it came to crying babies.  He’d seen first-hand the grim outcome on a couple of occasions.  Still, it was beyond him to understand what would make a loving mother or father hurt such a tiny, innocent angel.

 

Will’s crying picked up and sounded distinctly angry now.  He wasn’t just crying because he was upset at being wakened, he was mad.  Dan’s tiny, innocent angel was the devil incarnate at the moment.

 

Dan didn’t have the slightest urge to shake him or yell at him.  But putting him in the bassinet and walking away was starting to sound pretty good about now.

 

“However,” Helen went on, “babies that young are usually crying for a reason.  They want to be nurtured and that’s your job.  I know it may not seem like it’s doing any good but just holding him in your arms and talking to him is enough.  Be patient, speak soothingly, rock him, sing to him.  Anything that’s calming will eventually quiet him down.”

 

Heaven knew, the patient, soothing tone of his mother-in-law was calming him.

 

“And if you’re honestly worried, you can call the doctor.  You wouldn’t be the first anxious parent to do so.  It’s unlikely something is wrong with Will but if you want the doctor’s reassurance, don’t hesitate to ask for it.”

 

“Thanks, Moms.  It’s good to know you’re just a phone call away.”

 

“I’m just a short drive away, too.  Come over whenever you feel frustrated.”

 

Dan grunted.  “Clueless you mean?”

 

“You’re a new parent.  You can’t learn it all in two months.  You’re not Super Dad and Trixie’s not Super Mom.”

 

Trixie was Super Mom.  She never called her mother for help.  Was it because she was the mom and he was just the dad?  He was awed at her seemingly effortless maternal instincts.  For all her pre-baby worrying that she was unprepared to be a mother, that Honey, Sally and Diana had more motherly instincts than she did, she seemed to have more intuitive nurturing abilities than either of them had suspected.  He had to admit it, he was a little jealous.

 

“Dan, let me share a few tricks of the trade with you, things that helped me when my babies wouldn’t stop crying.  Every one of them was different, even the almost twins, so surely something that worked for me will work for you and Will.”

 

“Thanks, Moms,” he said, trying to rustle up some enthusiasm and genuine appreciation.

 

He simply wouldn’t tell Trixie that he had had to seek help in caring for his own son.

 

Dan started from his light catnap when he heard the back door in the kitchen open and close but didn’t move from his spot.  Trixie came in and smiled at the picture in front of her.  Dan was on the couch, the baby sleeping peacefully on his bare chest.

 

“Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you look right now?” she murmured with an amorous sparkle in her blue eyes.

 

Dan smiled.  “Mommy’s home,” he whispered, rubbing one hand in gentle circles on Will’s back.

 

“So, I guess he stopped crying?” Trixie teased as she kicked off her shoes by the wall.

 

“Yes, he did.  And started again.  And stopped again.  And started again.  And on and on.”  He shrugged sheepishly.  “I’m getting the hang of getting him to stop.”

 

“You discovered your warm, bare skin was soothing to him?”

 

“Yes, but only by accident.  He spit up all over my shirt just minutes ago.  It was fairly disgusting.”

 

“Sorry I missed it,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.  She found a smidgen of space on the edge of the couch and sat down next to her two boys, giving each one a kiss.

 

“How was your first day back?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t know?  Weren’t you there?”

 

“My body was but my brain and my heart were back here in White Plains.  I worried about you two all day.”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Dan said with a soft smile.  “You didn’t call once.”

 

She grinned back at him.  “Well, I didn’t want you to know I was worrying.”

 

Will began to fuss and Trixie scooped him off Dan’s chest.  “Do you want to feed him or shall I?”

 

Dan sat up and leaned toward her.  “Hmm ... I see a very obvious ache in your eyes.  You’d better feed him.  I’ll fix dinner.”

 

“Thank goodness,” Trixie sighed.  She sank onto the couch and before Dan could even get up she had maneuvered one breast out of her bra and blouse, letting Will latch on eagerly.  After she let out another low moan of blessed release, she said, “I pumped at work today.  Those bottles on the kitchen counter need to go in the fridge.”

 

“Have any issues?” he asked curiously, knowing she worked in a male-dominated office.

 

“No.  One of those things they’d rather not talk about.”  She grinned cheekily.  “It was a clever way to get out of the cubicle and into my own office.  How long do you think I can get away with it?”

 

Dan chuckled.  “Well, I suspect if you just close your door a few times a day for half an hour or so, the men in your office might be too embarrassed to ever mention it.  You might hang onto that office until Will’s in kindergarten.”

 

Trixie laughed.  “By then, it’ll be mine.  Squatter’s rights.”

 

Dan went to the kitchen to get Trixie’s cooler and transfer the bottles of breast milk to the fridge.  It was amusing that their discussion didn’t bother him at all … now.  Before Will was born, he would turn red and change the subject.  But now?  Breast milk, let-down, pumping, no big deal.  In fact, he enjoyed taunting Tad and Aidan with it periodically.

 

“So, how did you get him to stop crying?” Trixie called from the living room.

 

“Oh, you know ... I have my ways.”  Like calling your mom and whining like a little boy, but I’m not telling you that.

 

He went back to the living room and leaned up against the archway into the kitchen.  “What do you want for dinner?”

 

“Don’t judge me but I’m craving boxed mac and cheese in the worst way.”

 

Dan grinned.  “Hey, I’m not complaining.  That’s a nice, easy meal.”

 

“We have some dinner rolls in the freezer and after I finish up here, I’ll make a salad to go with it.”

 

Dan nodded but made no move to return to the kitchen and start preparing dinner.  Instead, he watched as Trixie deftly transferred Will to her other breast and settled down for “Dinnertime: Take Two”.

 

Dan watched for a while then murmured, with just a touch of envy, “You look like you’ve been doing that for years.”

 

Trixie shrugged but looked pleased.  “Come on, tell me how you got him to stop crying.”

 

“Oh, no,” Dan avowed.  “I’m not giving away my secrets.  You’re not the only one who gets to be a perfect parent around here.”

“Dan,” she scolded.  “You’re an exceptional father.”

 

“Yeah, I made my kid start crying and then couldn’t get him to stop for approximately 16 hours.”

 

“It wasn’t that long, silly.”

 

“Well, there’s no disputing that I was the one who made him cry.  What kind of amateur picks up a sleeping baby?”

 

Trixie stood, putting Will over her shoulder and patting his back gently.  She crossed the room and tilted her head up for a kiss, which Dan willingly gave her.

 

“You gave in to an impulse you shouldn’t have,” she said matter-of-factly.  “It happens.”

 

“Not to you,” he grumbled.  “I never see you upset or frantic or having to call your Mom or Honey or the doctor for help.”

 

“You’re gone for 10 to 12 hours, sometimes longer, when you’re on shift.  Do you think I haven't had any panic attacks in the past seven weeks because I had no idea what to do with the baby?  I’m not Super Mom.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what your mother sa—”

 

He stopped short but it was too late.  Trixie grinned wickedly at him.

“You called Moms?  She’s the one who got Will to stop crying?”

 

“No, I got him to stop crying,” Dan insisted.  He hesitated then added, “She just told me how.”

 

Trixie stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek and turned to take Will back to the bedroom for a nap.

 

“Don’t feel bad,” she called over her shoulder.  “I called her the day after we got back from the hospital, a few hours after you left to go to work.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Yeah, I picked up Will when he was sleeping.  He started crying and I couldn’t get him to stop.”

 

She stopped at the bedroom doorway, flashed him an impish smile, and disappeared into the bedroom.

 

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AUTHOR'S NOTES

Chapter 39 (4,130 words)

 

Huh.  I have no notes.  Go figure.

 

Header photo is from istock.com with the title added by me at Photo Bucket.  Divider photo is from Microsoft Clip Art.  Background is from All Free Web Graphics.