Chapter Text
Nick collapsed into the hard kitchen chair with a strangled moan. He was bone tired in a way he didn’t think he would ever recover from. The tiredness he felt was all-encompassing, it went beyond the physical exhaustion of not having had a full night’s sleep in nearly three months, it was an emotional, mental tiredness that reached every corner of his mind and body.
He let his head drop to the table with a thump. He closed his eyes and sighed, his mind reeling with a hundred different worries, anxieties, and things he needed to do. He’d only been sat for a minute when a tiny noise came from the corner of his small kitchen.
Nick’s head whipped up and he stared, heart pounding, at the tiny monitor that sat on the worktop. He held his breath and prayed he had imagined the sound.
Another tiny whimper shattered Nick’s peace and he hated himself for the wave of dread that washed over him. He swallowed thickly and pulled himself up from the chair, knowing he only had a minute before the little whimpers became desperate sobs, cries that no matter how tired he felt, tore at his heart.
“S’OK, Edie... It’s OK. Daddy’s coming.”
Tears pricked his eyes as he reached the fridge and pulled out a bottle. He was tired, too tired. He had so much to do and not enough mental capacity to do it with.
The whimpers turned into sobs and Nick swallowed thickly. He spun on his heels and rushed out into the tiny hallway.
Guilt.
Immense guilt.
Another, louder cry came from the baby monitor behind him.
He hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time and was beside the small bedside crib in a matter of seconds.
Edith gasped out another tiny sob, and he immediately started singing as he quickly shoved the cold bottle into the bottle warmer that sat on top of his chest of drawers.
The tiny baby only wailed louder upon hearing Nick’s voice.
“Dodo, l'enfant do
l'enfant dormira bien vite
Dodo, l'enfant do
l'enfant dormira bientôt”
Nick scooped his daughter into his arms and rocked her back and forth as he carried on singing, swallowing down tears when she only cried more, her tiny fists clenched, her arms thrashing and her face turned into Nick’s chest, desperately searching for the milk that wasn’t yet ready.
“5 more minutes, sweetheart. Just 5 minutes... I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Shhhhhh.” He gently patted her bum as he took long strides up and down his small bedroom.
He joined in with the tiny infant’s tears as he willed the bottle warmer to work faster. She’d been unsettled all day and while all the baby books, parenting groups and websites pointed to the reason for this being yet another growth spurt (hadn’t they only just come out the other side of the 6 week one?), that didn’t mean he knew how to deal with it.
“Dodo, l'enfant do
l'enfant dormira bien vite
Dodo, l'enfant do
l'enfant dormira bientôt”
He choked out the lullaby, the words falling automatically from his lips, desperately, pleadingly.
He felt useless, and, not for the first time, he wondered if he’d made the right choice. Had he taken away Edie’s chance at a real family? With parents who knew what they were doing and didn’t burst into tears at random points of the day? Could Nick, just Nick, ever be enough for this precious little girl?
He carried on repeating the soothing words over and over again as he paced back and forth across the carpet, swaying a still crying Edie gently as he did so, trying hard not to think about the what ifs.
Eventually his bedside clock indicated that enough time had passed, and he scooted his daughter into one arm so he could collect the now warm bottle. He quickly checked the temperature of the milk on the inside of his wrist, and then, relieved, collapsed down on to the side of his bed.
Nick positioned Edie how he knew she fed best, and sighed as she finally stopped crying, eagerly guzzling down the milk.
He smiled down at her even as more tears fell down his cheeks.
She was still so tiny, so precious, so beautiful.
Another wave of guilt hit him, this time for ever considering that he should have given her up. He exhaled deeply, trying to calm his frayed emotions.
“There, that’s better sweetheart. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to wake quite so soon. I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise. I promise I’ll do better,” he vowed, voice barely audible.
As Edie slowly drained the small bottle, Nick shifted up on the bed and leant against the hard headboard, never once letting his eyes leave his daughter’s tiny features. Her little eyes started to drift close as the last of the milk was finished, and Nick was overwhelmed at how perfect the little girl in his arms was.
He sighed again and finally tore his eyes away from her to check the time.
00:11
“Happy birthday to me,” he whispered into the now quiet room.
Nick knew he needed to transfer Edith back into her crib and head back downstairs to finish sorting the washing that desperately needed drying if they were going to have any clean clothes for the coming week, but moments like this, with Edie sleeping peacefully in his arms, were about the only thing keeping him going. And it was his birthday. He relaxed a little against the headboard and allowed himself just a few minutes of peace.
This time last year, if anyone had told Nick Nelson that he would wake up on his 24th birthday in a tiny 2 up, 2 down terraced house, with no one other than his 3 month old daughter for company, he would have asked them what drugs they were on.
On his 23rd birthday he had woken up at home in his childhood bedroom, and been treated to a bacon sandwich by his mum. They’d had taken their pug, Henry, out for a leisurely walk together and Sarah had bought them both a cup of tea and a cupcake from the park’s kiosk, before they headed back home.
He had then spent most of the day with two of his closest friends, Tara and Darcy, hitting the shops and purchasing an insane amount of stationary in preparation for Nick’s first real day of teaching in a few days time. He had been a bundle of excited energy, almost giddy with thoughts of the future.
Later, after dinner at a pizza place in town where Darcy had forced the tables nearest them to join in singing Happy Birthday to Nick, while he blew out 3 candles balanced on top of a slice of ham and pineapple pizza, the group headed to a local pub to meet up with a few of Nick’s other friends, and his new girlfriend, Penny.
Nick had met Penny at the end of July on a night out with mates. She had been working behind the bar at his local pub, and when Nick had gone up to order his round, they had immediately hit it off. At the end of her shift, she had invited herself to join their group and the rest, as they say, was history.
A rather short history.
By the end of August, they had been officially dating, meeting up during the week in the daytime before Penny’s evening shift started, and spending the weekends dancing, drinking and sleeping in late. Penny was smart and funny, with a sharp tongue and a confidence that Nick admired. She was beautiful, and her Scottish accent turned his insides to a puddle of mush.
By the end of September, however, the cracks had already started to show. Nick loved his job, he had a passion for teaching and adored his class. But it left a lot less free time during the week to see Penny. She had just started training to become a paramedic though, so Nick told himself that she understood, and they still managed to see each other most weekends.
By the end of October, it became clear that Nick’s desire to spend his weekends getting some exercise in, relaxing at home, and maybe enjoying the occasional quiet drinks with Penny and his friends, was at odds with Penny’s desire to spend the weekends blowing off steam, drinking, dancing and sleeping in until lunchtime.
By the end of November, they had agreed that their romance had been a thing for the summer. They had parted with a tight hug, a kiss on the cheek and genuine well wishes for their separate futures.
The end of the relationship had left no hole in Nick’s life, and he had been happy with how things were. He had made no effort to try dating again, perfectly content as he was, focused on work and his small group of friends, firmly believing that love would come along when the time was right. Nick’s life was good and he was happy.
That was until Penny had knocked on his door the Friday after Valentine’s Day, almost 3 months since he’d last seen her, and promptly burst into tears.
Edie let out a tiny, shuddered breath in her sleep, the type that had sent Nick’s heart racing in panic the first few days of her life, and she shifted slightly in her dad’s arms. Nick smiled down at her peacefully sleeping face, and very slowly transferred her into her crib. He held his breath as her back touched the cold mattress, only releasing it when she stayed soundly asleep. He gently removed his hands from under her and tucked her blanket around her, being extra careful not to make any sudden movements.
He sagged back and battled with himself; sleep or washing, dry clothes or some semblance of sanity for his frazzled mind?
Sleep won. If the weather was nice enough in the morning, he promised himself he would hang the wet washing outside to dry. If it wasn’t, then maybe he could sneak a load of washing into his mum’s tumble dryer when they went round for lunch. He was sure she wouldn’t mind. Nick sure as hell couldn’t afford to buy a tumble dryer, let alone run one.
He quickly brushed his teeth and settled down under his duvet, being as quiet as he could. He turned to the side and stared almost face to face with his daughter. Her perfect, tiny fingers were splayed out either side of her head, and he couldn’t stop himself reaching across the space between them to gently stroke her hand with his little finger.
Edie whimpered in her sleep and the moment of peace was instantly shattered as Nick pulled his hand away, praying he hadn’t disturbed her. He held his breath as his daughter’s breathing settled back into a soft, rhythmic sound. He quietly exhaled and let her steady breathing lull him off to sleep.
///
Perhaps unsurprisingly Nick thought, given his current state of mind, when he woke for the day just after 6:30am (having been woken twice during the short night) it was raining. The wind blew heavy raindrops against the windows, making a sound that used to make Nick smile and feel cosy inside a warm house. Now it just made him groan at his stupidity for not hanging the washing up on the clothes horse overnight.
Luckily for Nick his mother was an angel who had surely been sent from above. She called him just after 9am to wish him happy birthday, and had then insisted that when he came over later for lunch that he brought a load of washing or two with him. It was like she always knew exactly what he needed.
Edie had fussed on and off since 7am, and by 11am Nick felt ready to join in with the crying, again. She was clearly tired and needed a nap, but every time he rocked her off, she woke 5 minutes later screaming.
He paced back and forth, gently jiggling Edie and singing an old French nursery rhyme until his voice cracked.
“Come on, love. What’s wrong? Please Edie, please… just sleep. You need to sleep.”
Edie didn’t seem to agree; her cries turned into screams, and she kicked her little legs with surprising strength for such a tiny thing.
Usually, Nick’s go to solution on days like this was to bundle Edie into the knitted pram suit that Sarah had made her, and go for a walk. Nick preferred to carry her in the baby carrier that had taken him 3 weeks to feel confident using outside of the house, but sometimes, if he needed to pick up some things from Tesco, he placed her in the ridiculously expensive pram that Stéphane had insisted on buying. Nick hated the pram. Edie seemed far too low down, too far away from him, and he hated that strangers could poke their noses, and fingers, in and breathe all over her. The carrier kept her close, making Nick less anxious, but it wasn’t always so practical for carrying home more than a bag or two of shopping. He tried to use the car sparingly these days.
(Sarah thought Nick was suffering with postnatal depression. Nick didn’t agree. He knew he wasn’t in the best place, but he was certain that once the parental order was finalised, and maybe Edie was sleeping a little more, he would be fine. Until then, he could acknowledge that he was maybe struggling a little. But he wasn’t depressed. He refused to believe he could be depressed when he had Edith Rose Nelson in his life.)
Today, with the rain still coming down hard, a long walk to calm her and get her to sleep wasn’t on the cards. He checked the time again and saw there was still over an hour until his mum was expecting them. The drive there would take no more than 10 minutes.
While he really couldn’t afford to waste petrol on an aimless drive of Maidstone streets, as Edie arched her back and sobbed, Nick didn’t know what else to do.
He placed Edie in her vibrating baby chair and bit the inside of his lip to stop himself screaming or crying as her sobs intensified.
“Daddy will just be 2 minutes, 2 minutes sweetheart, I promise,” he choked, rushing out the room as quickly as he could to collect the two baskets of washing from the kitchen worktop. He called out words of comfort to Edie as she carried on crying, knowing they were more for his benefit than hers at this stage. He dropped the baskets to the floor, items of clothing spilling out of the top, grabbed his shoes and the car seat, and rushed back into the tiny lounge.
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” he repeated over and over as he shoved his shoes on, not bothering to do the laces up.
Getting Edie into her car seat while she screamed and held herself stiff almost broke Nick for the third time that day, but he sung dodo l’enfant do and the tears stayed at bay until he had her safely strapped in his ancient Fiat, with two baskets of washing in the boot and a haphazardly packed changing bag on the passenger seat. He swiped at his cheeks and started the engine. As he slowly reversed out of his designated space, Edie’s cries stopped, and he let out a shuddered sigh.
He felt his shoulders slowly relax as he drove aimlessly up and down the roads near his house.
After 10 minutes, when he was fairly confident that Edie was definitely asleep, he pulled over in a small layby near the local park and let his head fall hard against the steering wheel.
There was a strange feeling in his chest that he couldn’t name. It gripped his heart and left him struggling to breathe. He was so tired. He squeezed his eyes closed and willed his heart to stop racing.
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that before his phoned chimed loudly and repeatedly. He quickly sat up and blindly fumbled around in the backpack he used as a changing bag, praying to any god who was listening that the noise didn’t wake his now sleeping daughter. His fingers finally grasped around his phone, and he pulled it out, swiping it into silent mode as fast as he could.
He held his breath and waited for Edie’s cries to start up from the back seat. When they didn’t come, he relaxed back in his seat and finally checked his screen.
Chat Group: The LLBs
[11:37 Tara] Hope little lady let her daddy
have a lie in for his birthday!
[11:37 Tara] 24! Nearly halfway to your 30s 😉
old man!
[11:37 Tara] Have a brilliant day, can’t wait to
see you tonight. It’s been too long!
[11:38 Darcy] What she said! Happy Birthday
Nicholas. Can’t wait to squish Edie later.
[11:38 Tara] And see you…
[11:38 Darcy] Yeah, and see the bday boy!
[11:38 Tara] Happy birthday! Love you lots xx
[11:38 Darcy] But we love Edith more
[11:38 Tara] We’re bringing wine and curry!
No excuses! See you at 7 xxx
[11:38 Darcy] Only cos Tara tells me I can’t
bring my brownies into a house with a baby…
but it’s your house, your birthday and your baby…
[11:38 Darcy] (So just say the word and I’ll
whip us up a batch 😉 )
Nick smiled at the barrage of messages despite the ache in his chest. It really had been too long since he’d seen his best friends, something they regularly tried to rectify, and Nick regularly squirmed his way out of.
[11:40 Nick] 6:34am, I’ll take it.
Thanks both, looking forward to
it. No brownies! X
Nick dropped his phone back into his bag, stretched his back and gave himself a physical shake.
He had a beautiful daughter, a wonderful mum, fantastic friends, a job he loved waiting for him, and a roof over his head. It was his birthday, and he was going to have a good day.
He plastered a smile to his face and drove to his mum’s, praying that when he arrived he could transfer Edith from the car into the house without waking her.
///
By the time Nick arrived back home a little after 5pm, he felt much better.
His mum had made him his favourite roast beef with all the trimmings, which he had managed to eat while it was still hot thanks to Sarah cuddling Edie throughout the meal. After singing Happy Birthday to him over a small lemon drizzle cake, she had refused to take no for an answer and had sent him up to his old bedroom for a much needed nap. The room didn’t feel like his anymore; his bed was now at his and Edie’s home, along with most of his old furniture and knickknacks. But the small bed Sarah had placed in there was comfortable and Nick had been so tired that it hadn’t taken him more than a few minutes to fall into a deep sleep.
Somehow, while he slept, his mum had managed to not only keep Edie happy, but also to dry and fold one load of washing. Nick only felt a little like a failure when he saw Edie laying happily in the bouncy chair that lived at his mum’s, while Sarah busied herself folding washing, cooing softly to her granddaughter as she did.
Sarah had waved them off a few hours later with a stack of plastic tubs containing cottage pie, chicken stew and bolognese, having apparently made too much for herself during the week and not having room in her freezer to store them. Nick knew this was rubbish, his mum had a chest freezer in the garage that was always half empty, but he appreciated the gesture too much to mention this.
He carried Edie and the bag for life filled with assorted tupperware straight through to the kitchen and chatted away to his daughter as he placed the meals into his small freezer.
Edie seemed happy in her car seat, and while an anxious voice at the back of his head told him that he needed to take her out of it as soon as possible, his brain unhelpfully supplying various statistics relating to SIDs and car seats, he decided to leave her in there while he quickly made up enough bottles for the next 12 hours to keep in the fridge.
By the time he was done, Edie was getting restless, and he was glad he had taken the small window of peace to prepare for the night ahead, praying it wouldn’t be as bad as the evening before.
He left a bottle out ready for bedtime, lifted a fidgeting Edie out of her seat and carried her upstairs to start her bedtime routine.
///
19:07. Tara and Darcy were late, and Nick had never been so grateful for the blonde’s terrible time keeping.
Edie had pooed spectacularly between the bathroom and the bedroom, most of it slipping out of the white towel she was wrapped in and ending up all down Nick’s hoodie.
She had then screamed while Nick washed her for a second time (somehow poo had ended up in her fine, blonde hair. Probably due to her expert wriggling when Nick had placed her down quickly to strip off his ruined top) and she had then worked herself up into such a state that it had taken Nick a long time to calm her down enough to get her to take her milk.
But she was finally asleep, and Nick prayed she would stay that way long enough to enjoy a couple of hours with his friends before she woke for her next feed, usually around 9pm. Although after the battle to get her to take her 6pm bottle, Nick wasn’t feeling confident of that.
He carefully picked up a gift bag that he’d left on the table earlier and unwrapped a beautiful plate that Edie – aka Grandma – had gifted him for his birthday; her two tiny footprints in the middle of the plate, positioned at an angle so they made a love heart. The words ‘ I... My daddy’ were written either side of the footprints, and underneath, in the same loopy handwriting, read ‘Love Edith Rose, 9 weeks old’.
Nick had accompanied Sarah with Edie to a pottery place a few weeks ago, but his mum had insisted that Nick enjoyed a cup of tea in the small adjoining café while a kind lady painted Edie’s feet, so that she could surprise him with the finished design. Despite expecting something along these lines, Nick had still found a lump forming in his throat when he had unwrapped the plate earlier that day.
He was going to hang it in pride of place in the sitting room first thing tomorrow, but for now he placed it carefully on the worktop and set about tidying the tiny dining table, ready for his friends’ arrival.
The doorbell rang 5 minutes later, and Nick rushed to answer it, his heart racing.
“Shhh!” He flung the door open before Darcy could pressed the button again and gestured wildly for them to be quiet as he ushered them inside.
“Sorry, sorry!” Tara whispered as she tugged a chastised looking Darcy in behind her and softly shut the door.
Nick was about to respond when Tara dropped a carrier bag to the floor and he was suddenly enveloped by 4 arms, and he found himself unable to talk as, for the hundredth time that day, a lump stuck in his throat.
“Happy birthday, beautiful man,” Darcy stage whispered.
“Oh, we’ve missed you, you silly, silly boy.” Tara kissed him on the cheek and then pulled away. She looked at him with her kind eyes that made Nick swallow thickly. He surreptitiously swiped his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled down the hallway while Darcy whispered a hundred miles an hour about the wine they had brought with them, and that she had indeed made brownies, but that she promised her special ingredient had been left out.
Nick couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his face. He’d missed this.
///
The three friends were sat around the two seater dining table a little while later, almost a bottle of wine down (mainly thanks to Darcy), the curry long finished, and Nick was wondering why he had put this off for so long. The girls had made him laugh more than he had done for weeks, months even. Edie had stayed asleep despite the laughter coming from the kitchen, and catching up with what was going on in his friends’ lives, their wedding plans and Darcy's new job, was a welcome distraction from the mess that was his own.
Darcy had just started giving an in depth account about a homophobic customer she had encountered at work, when the baby monitor crackled and all three fell silent. Nick stared at the speaker with his finger pressed to his lips for just a second when a loud wail sounded. He sighed a little but turned to his friends with a smile and made to stand up.
“Won’t be a moment, actually, that’s probably a lie,” he chuckled dryly. “Maybe make yourselves comfortable on the sofa. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
He stood up and started towards the kitchen door when he felt soft fingers clasp around his wrist. He turned to see Tara smiling at him.
“Can Auntie Tara go? Please? Does she need a bottle?”
Nick bit the inside of his lip and stared back into Tara’s pleading eyes for a moment too long. Edie let out another cry from the monitor and he quickly shook his head.
“No, it’s probably bes-”
“Nick, does she need a bottle?”
He shook his head again and gave another half laugh, “Who knows?! No, she shouldn’t but, look-”
Tara stepped forward and gently placed both hands on his arms. “Please, Nick. We want to help. It’s your birthday, stay down here and have another glass of wine.”
Edie’s little cries were becoming louder, more urgent, and Nick’s heart started pounding.
“She doesn’t know you!” he snapped, instantly feeling guilty at the look of hurt that passed across Tara’s face.
Tara swallowed, but offered Nick a sympathetic smile, “And she never will, if you don’t let anyone near her. If she doesn’t settle in 5 minutes, obviously you can come and take over. OK?”
His mum’s words from a few weeks ago at the pottery café, when Nick had almost refused to let Sarah take Edie into the adjacent room without him, flashed through his mind.
‘I’m worried about you. I really think… postnatal depression isn’t just for mums you know. Dads can suffer with it too. Please, Nick….’
She had pleaded with him with the same look in her eyes as Tara was giving him now.
He took a shuddering breath and nodded once. The look that passed across Tara’s face as she grinned back at him and then rushed out of the room almost made the panic in Nick’s chest worth it.
Almost.
Edie’s cries were now constant, and Nick had to physically stop himself from bounding up the stairs behind Tara and scooping up his daughter before his friend could touch her. He groaned and bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted blood, his grip tight on the back of the dining chair as tears stung his eyes.
“Hey, little one… Oh, hello beautiful Edie. It’s Auntie Tara, do you remember me? Hey, hey, yes… it’s OK.”
Tara’s soothing voice sounded through the monitor, and Edie’s cries lessened to a whimper. Nick stayed in the same position, knuckles going white as he clung to the chair, listening as Tara started to sing softly, and Edie fell quiet.
Nick jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Come on, let’s go in the sitting room?” Darcy had her head bent down to one side, looking at Nick with a strange expression on her face.
He nodded and took a deep breath. Quickly picking up the now silent baby monitor, Nick followed Darcy out into the hall and then into the sitting room. She was clasping two glasses in one hand and the wine bottle in the other, which she placed down on a small, second hand table before dropping with a thump on to the sofa. She patted the empty space next to her and grinned up at Nick.
“Come on, sit. We need to talk.”
Nick stayed where he was in the doorway. He turned his head enough to see the staircase behind him, seriously considering going up and making sure that Tara was OK with Edie. What if she needed a nappy change and Tara hadn’t realised? What if Edie was quiet, but scared and staring up at the virtual stranger holding her, wondering where daddy was?
“Nick, she’s fine. Edie is fine. Tara is better than fine. She’s been desperate to see Edie again for weeks. Now, come here and let’s chat.”
Nick took a deep breath in before he turned back to Darcy. He plastered his ‘I’m fine’ smile on to his face and dutifully sat down next to the chaotic blonde. She beamed back at him and reached for the wine bottle.
“No more for me, thanks Darce.” Nick spoke through his fake smile.
“Oh, come on, it’s your birthday!”
“Seriously, I can’t.”
“You barely touched your first glass, you’re not going to be hung over from a glass and a half!”
“Darcy, leave it!” Nick’s tone came out sharper than he had intended, “Sorry… but, please. I can’t. Edie is sleeping in a co-sleeping crib, I shouldn’t have even had that half a glass. I don’t want to have any more. Please. Leave it.”
Darcy sighed but put the bottle back down without pouring any into either glass.
“Fair play, Nicholas. Sorry. So…” She turned in her spot, tucking her feet up under her on the small blue two seater so she was almost face to face with Nick. “What’s up?”
Nick shrugged, “Not much.”
Darcy hummed disbelievingly.
“We’re worried about you. Even Sai messaged Tara last week asking if we’d heard from you recently.”
He flinched, guilt rising in his chest. A common feeling nowadays.
“Sorry, things are just… I wasn’t great at replying before, you know. It’s just… I’m just tired I suppose.”
Darcy didn’t speak for a few moments; Nick raised his head to look at her. She was staring intently back at him, lips pursed.
“Tara says I shouldn’t ask this…” She eventually said.
Nick’s heart hammered against his ribcage, not knowing exactly what this was, but having a good idea.
“Wise woman your fiancée. Probably best you lis-”
“Have you heard from Penny at all?” Darcy cut him off.
Nick simultaneously felt like he’d had a bucket of cold water thrown over him, whilst also feeling like his whole body had been set alight. His heart raced so fast he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.
He must have stared at Darcy a long time, unspeaking, because Darcy suddenly dropped a hand to his arm, making him jump.
“Shit, sorry. Forget I asked, OK? I’m sorry, it’s none of my busin-”
“What’s none of your business?” Tara’s sharp voice interrupted them, making Darcy jump.
“Nothing, Jonesy.” Darcy spun round to look at Tara who was stood in the doorway. She wasn’t holding Edie, and no noise was coming from the baby monitor still in Nick’s hand. A tiny thread of panic unwound itself from Nick’s heart.
“Is Edie OK?” He still needed confirmation.
Tara smiled reassuringly at him and plonked herself down in the Ikea armchair opposite the sofa.
“She’s sleeping, an absolute angel. She really is so beautiful, Nick.”
Nick nodded. “I know,” he whispered.
They sat in silence for a moment and then Tara leant forward in her chair. The lounge was so small that she could reach his thigh from her seat, and she gently rested her hand there and smiled up at him.
“So, how have things been? Really?”
Nick blinked back tears and swallowed rapidly.
“Fine,” he managed to gasp out.
“Nick…” Her tone was firm and unwavering, yet kind and full of compassion. The kindness in her dark brown eyes tipped Nick over the edge, and the tears fell in earnest.
It all came tumbling out, things he hadn’t even confessed to his mum. How confused and guilty and messed up he felt about… everything. How he wondered if he had made the right choice, would Edie have been better off being adopted by a couple who had the money, knowledge and maturity that he didn’t? That he laid awake at night, worrying that Penny would suddenly appear and decide she did want Edie after all. That he then laid awake thinking about what an awful father he was for selfishly wanting Edie to stay with him, for basically wishing an absent mother on his daughter, when he himself understood the pain that having an absent parent brought.
He told them about the endless forms that had needed filing, how little legal information and support there was for single dads in his position. About how, although on a personal level his school had been understanding, the pressure to return to work was mounting; not just from a financial point of view, but because he had only given a few weeks warning about him potentially wanting to take so long off for parental leave. The original plan to take two weeks paternity leave felt like a lifetime ago.
He then delved deeper into his money worries. He confessed that, if he’d known that Penny wouldn’t be living with them, he would never have taken on the lease. How expensive babies turned out to be, and about how little money he had to play with now his very limited savings had been thoroughly depleted.
He talked about the tightness he got in his chest whenever Edie cried and he couldn’t comfort her, and how he was sure that Edie could tell he was a fraud. How he worried that one day his daughter would turn around and tell him that she could always tell that he wished this lonely experience was not how he became a dad. That he worried he was doing her unrepairable emotional damage every time he wished things were different.
He talked and he cried until his throat, his eyes and his heart ached, and then he collapsed against the back of his sofa, and sobbed again in guilt that he had voiced all of this to his two best friends when all they had wanted was a fun night with him to celebrate his birthday.
“Oh, Nick.”
Once again, Nick was enveloped by two pairs of loving arms, and he cried until he had no more tears to cry as his best friends rubbed his back.
He eventually stopped crying and the two women pulled away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed by the display he had just put on.
He had a beautiful daughter, and it had been completely his choice to take custody of her, he had no reason to be acting like this.
When he stuttered these words out, Tara sighed and Darcy wrapped an arm around his shoulder again.
“Nick sandwich.” She squeezed tight before letting go.
“Nick, your life has changed massively, and in such a short period of time. You are allowed to love Edie, and still struggle with the actual practicalities of being a dad. Anyone would struggle. And that’s without the money worries. I didn’t… I hadn’t realised how little you get while on parental leave.” She worried at her bottom lip.
Nick shrugged, “It’s not forever, but… I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m ready to leave her to return to work. They want me back after the Christmas holidays, and the thought fills me with dread. But, yeah… I’m not sure I can sustain this much longer.”
“Have you told your mum?” Darcy asked, in a surprisingly quiet voice.
“She knows a bit, she tries to help where she can. But…well, this is my mess. I’m meant to be an adult. I’m a parent for fuck's sake! I shouldn’t be running to my mum for handouts.” He shook his head in despair. “I should never have moved out… but then I suppose I would be relying on my mum’s handouts by living with her and keeping her up with a crying baby.”
“Could you move back in? Move home? Your mum adores Edie, she’s not just some baby, she’s her granddaughter! And you’re her son, she’ll always help you when you need it.”
Nick sighed, he appreciated their efforts to help, but really the money situation wasn’t even his biggest worry. He had also gone through every option already, and the only solution was to go begging to his dad, or to accept that he would be living in his ever increasing overdraft until he started back at work.
“No, I appreciate you’re trying to help, but I’m contracted here for at least another 6 months, and it’ll cost too much to get out of it. Plus, I really don’t want to put that on mum, moving back in with her. I need to do this, alone.”
No one spoke for a moment, and when Tara did talk her voice was hesitant.
“I umm… I noticed that Edie is in with you still?”
Nick looked at her, confused. “Well, yeah. She’s not even 3 months old!” It came out a little sharper than he had intended. His well meaning Grandma had tried to advise Nick to put Edie in her own room a few weeks ago, and when Nick had told her that wasn’t recommended due to increased risk of SIDs, his Grandma had rolled her eyes and told him that people these days were too stressy. It hadn’t helped the small amount of anxiety that Nick could acknowledge he was struggling with.
Tara raised an eyebrow at him, “I’m not really experienced with what’s…normal with babies. I wasn’t judging!”
“Sorry.” He mumbled.
“I just meant, this is a two bed, and if Edie isn’t going to be using the second room before your lease is up… and money is tight…” She left the suggestion open, but Nick immediately shook his head.
“And have a stranger living here?! With my daughter? God, no!”
Tara held her hands up in surrender.
“She has a point,” Darcy spoke excitedly, “You could vet who moved in, it’s not like you’d be stuck with a weirdo you didn’t feel comfortable with! And it would bring in the money you’re short because she-who-must-not-be-named fucked you over.”
“Darcy!” Tara protested as Nick flinched.
“Don’t, Darce. Just… don’t.”
Darcy had the grace to look ashamed, “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I just hate that-”
“Yeah, well, I’ve made my choice. And I don’t regret it.” He mostly meant it. He didn’t regret Edith anyway.
“Just, think about it.” Tara rested her hand on his thigh and once again gave him a smile filled with so much compassion, that he found himself agreeing that he would at least think about getting a housemate.
///
[09:37 Nick] Hey mate hope you’re OK.
Hypothetically if I wanted to rent out the
second room, would that be allowed?
Like if I was to try and get a housemate?
[10:01 Otis] He lives! How’s things?!!!
We have to meet up soon!
[10:01 Otis] I’ll ask Uncle Jimmy.
Someone you know or…?
[10:34 Nick] Just an idea atm. Could
advertise… Might help with finances iykwim
[10:34 Otis] Yeah I can imagine. Everything
so fucking expensive! I’ll let you know
[10:34 Otis] How is Edie anyway? Soph
is desperate for cuddles soon. You know
we’re always happy to babysit if you
fancy a night out? Just ask
[11:38 Nick] Thanks mate. Appreciate offer.
Edie is great… doesn’t sleep! Good job
she’s cute.
[11:38 Nick] Mum would kill me if I let you
lot babysit before her 😉
But we’ll arrange to meet up so Soph can
get a cuddle soon?
[13:01 Otis] Uncle J says knock yourself
out, but they’d need to pay £100 to be
added to lease. Agency sets the fees so he
can’t waiver it. Sorry.
[13:01 Otis] Tell us time and place n
me and Soph’ll be there. I want
cuddles too!
[13:01 Nick] Aw mate, didn’t know
you cared so much 😉
[13:01 Nick] And thanks, appreciate it!
[13:01 Otis] Meant with Edie, but if
you need a cuddle 😉 No worries.
Free Sat? Fancy bringing Edie to watch
her uncles play rugby?!
[15:57 Nick] Yeah maybe. Can I let you know?
///
Small Double room in quiet house – near train station
£575pcm – all bills included
- Furnished small double in quiet house
- Initial 6 month lease
- Would suit considerate professional looking for easy connection to London
- No smokers, no heavy drinkers, no parties
- £100 admin fee
- Shared kitchen, bathroom and lounge
- Additional checks may be required
- Available immediately
Charlie shivered, a constant drizzle was falling around him and his coat was doing nothing to keep him warm or dry. All around him, commuters rushed back and forth with umbrellas or coats over their heads, desperately trying to get out of the rain and back home as soon as possible. Not Charlie. He would rather sit on the cold, damp bench than head home any earlier than necessary.
No, not home. He didn’t have a home. He had a place that he lived in that had never felt like it truly belonged to him, like he belonged there. It was a flat, a dry, warm space that he paid to live in. But it wasn’t home. The person he lived with had made that abundantly clear over the last 6 months.
Charlie’s finger hovered over his phone's screen. He bit his lip, was he really going to do this?
His phone vibrated and a message flashed across the screen.
[18:54 Ben] Are you actually coming home tonight?!
If you were dead in a ditch I wouldn’t even
know! It’s like you live for the drama.
Come home or don’t, I don’t care
Charlie’s finger swiped the message away, and then pressed the button on his screen.
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