Camden by Shey Stahl

 

Remember when the baby was calm and not crying? Yeah, me too.

I also remember thinking, damn, this parenting can’t be so bad. Look at my cute baby. He’s perfect in every single way and doesn’t make a sound.

Ridiculous of me, yes, I know. Don’t judge me.

But now—now I’m convinced he hates me. I’m sure of it because hours after his birth while I’m trying to feed him, he’s having an absolute fit over it.

Oh, irony. You ugly bitch. Stop being right.

“Why is he crying so much?” I sob. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Cullen latches onto my breast, takes two sucks and then his entire body straightens and he turns his head away from me. “Whaaaaa!”

“He hates me.” My eyes rise to Scarlet. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Babies don’t like anyone,” Scarlet notes, shifting in the chair she’s been trying to sleep in for the last hour. She’s absolutely no help. “Tiller’s his grandpa. He probably wishes your titties were blood.”

I hear a groan as the door opens. “Can we think of a different name besides grandpa?”

My eyes search the familiar voice and I practically drop my crying baby to see Tiller standing in the doorway with Camden. Side by side.

Camden comes forward first, smiling at me and then takes the baby from me. “I don’t have what he’s looking for but maybe I could calm him down?”

“I’m willing to try anything,” I tell him, relieved he’s back in the room.

Cullen’s shrieking cries fill the room and every single one makes my heart tug. Our squawking newborn is pissed off and still crying and in turn, I’m crying.

“Whaaa, whaaa, whaaa!” is on repeat.

“Come on dude, we get it, you’re mad,” Camden whispers, bouncing him gently from side to side while patting his butt over his diaper. We don’t have him in clothes yet because we were not prepared for him to come early.

I drift my attention to my dad. I haven’t seen him since the day I moved out and he took off that night. Part of me wants to yell and scream at him that he left without saying anything. Another part is pissed that he left my mom and didn’t even call her. But the emotional—I just gave birth to a baby—that particular one wins out.

He steps forward, eyes me, the baby, and then smiles. “Cute kid.”

“Thanks. I made him, with Camden.”

Camden grins, shaking his head but doesn’t say anything as Scarlet tries to help him calm the baby down. It’s not working, her wild blonde curls are in his face and he’s probably terrified of her.

I know what you’re thinking, I shouldn’t have said that part about me making a baby with Camden to my dad, or are you? It’s for a reason. Actually, I just blurted it out because Camden looks so hot holding a baby, I remind myself that I just had the kid, and I can’t have sex for a while. But then I think, that’s a good start to test the Wild Cat’s demeanor.

Tiller smirks, shaking his head and then comes forward to kiss my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

I stare at him as he pulls away. “I’ve never heard you say that.”

He stands straight, his posture stiff, eyes guarded. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable. In fact, he’d rather be any other emotion. “I’ve said it twice in my life,” he scoffs. “Don’t expect to hear it again.”

I smile. This isn’t an I forgive you smile. This is the I know you are smile. The one you offer in peace. The white flag. There will be a time when we talk about this, and you might be there for it, you might not. Maybe it needs to happen in private, a father and daughter moment where I tell him he let me down, and he admits that I did too. I know it’s coming, but knowing Tiller, that part won’t be as easy as us smiling and not losing focus on what happened in this room today.

Another little Sawyer was brought into the world.

That deserves priority today.

“Whaaa, whaaa, whaaa!”

Tiller turns his back to me. “Let me see baby Cam-Man.”

Do you hear the change in his voice? The tenderness? I do. And my mom does. She’s already crying because we told her what we named the baby.

Now I’m the one doing the crying. Oh, right. I never stopped.

Camden turns toward Tiller and smiles. “Meet Cullen Wesley Sawyer.”

Do you know the name Cullen? If not, it’s after my birth mom’s husband. The one that died with Ava when I was three. I wanted to honor him in some way because like it or not, if it hadn’t been for him convincing Ava to keep me, I wouldn’t be here. And neither would this little guy being passed over to my dad.

My heart clenches.

Tiller’s eyebrows rise. “Sawyer?” Our son has his middle name, and last name, despite what happened a month ago. It was Camden’s idea, not mine, and though I loved it, that right there shows Camden’s true personality.

He takes him into his arms, holding him carefully. And other than Wyatt, I don’t think he’s ever held a baby. Nobody willingly lets Tiller hold their kids in fear he’s going to corrupt or drop them. Gently, as if he’s been doing it for years, he takes my son, the first Sawyer boy in two generations, and holds him close. “Hey, there,” he whispers to him, a slight lift of the corner of his mouth when Cullen sneezes.

 

Beside me in a chair, Camden holds Cullen, rocking him slowly. I don’t think the baby has been put down since he came out of me. Not that I’m complaining because I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to be able to let him sleep anywhere but in my arms once we leave here.

I’ve never been so completely in love with someone the instant I laid eyes on him.

Is that what motherhood is like? Feeling like you can’t breathe unless you know they’re safe?

It’s scary as hell.

I wonder if Camden’s going through the same emotions. Does he feel inadequate like me?

Clearing my throat, I smile at him holding our son. “Are you going to tell your dad?”

Camden shakes his head without looking up from Cullen. “Nope.”

I knew that would be his answer. “You should.”

“Why?”

“Because Cullen deserves to know him.”

“Like hell he does,” Camden snaps, glaring at me.

“We need to let him make that decision. It doesn’t mean we have to ask him to babysit, but he should be given a chance too.”

Camden’s brow furrows and he sighs, his expression softening a bit, posture relaxing. “Why do babies make you soft?”

I laugh, tears in my eyes. “I don’t know, but it’s bullshit.”

“Agreed.” He looks up, around the room and then shakes his head. “You know what’s even scarier than feeling like a softy?”

“What?”

“They’re just gonna let us leave with him.” He nods to the baby. “No instructions on what do or anything. That’s just crazy to me. They have no idea if we’re capable of taking care of him. They didn’t even do a background check on us.” His eyes widen. “Seriously. That should be standard protocol before they let you leave with an infant.”

I smile, fighting back laughter that I’m the calm one now. “That’s usually how it works.”

He blows out a breath. “I can’t believe we’re parents.” He pats Cullen’s butt lightly. “Like, holy shit, dude. You’re ours.”

Laughter rolls through me watching him stare at the baby with fascination. “Me either,” I agree. “Think we’re gonna make it.” Part of me might be referring to our argument right before Cullen came rushing into the world, or, maybe I’m concerned. It’s scary thinking about leaving the hospital. Like Camden said. That’s just crazy.

Camden glances at me, the baby, and then back again. “I think we’re gonna do just fine.” A smile lifts his lips. “If Tiller can do this, we can.”

It’s funny how all our jokes revolve around my dad, but it’s the truth. I mean, he raised me.

Don’t laugh.