Overbearing or Caring?

CALLUM

Tyler has been holding the baby for nearly ten minutes when I decide it’s my turn. I’d cradled her briefly when Violet emerged from the pool, but the midwife needed her shortly after, so I had to hand her over. The midwife has been busy, checking her temperature, taking measurements, and even drawing blood from her tiny heel for the DNA swabs Violet requested. But I have no doubt she’s Tyler’s. Not a single doubt.

“Okay, my turn,” I declare, settling next to him. He lifts her gently, one hand supporting her head, the other her bottom, and passes her to me. I take her, mimicking his hold, unsure of how to handle her.

“Make sure you support her head,” the midwife advises, clearly noticing my inexperience. This is the first baby I’ve ever held. My own daughter. That’s a strange thought.

I sit there, arms extended, cradling her in my hands. Tyler chuckles and helps me lay her on my chest. Her hair is soft and dry, resting just below my chin. I can barely see her, so I lean back, savoring the warmth of the tiny bundle on my chest.

“Well, don’t you two look like the perfect fucking daddies?” Violet declares, leaning in to kiss both our cheeks before sniffing the baby. We really need to name her soon. We can’t keep calling her ~the baby~.

“I agree. Parenthood suits you all. I’ve made dinner. Chicken and rice,” Carla announces. “Would you like some, Katy? There’s plenty,” she offers the midwife.

“Oh no, I’m quite content. I’ll be heading out, but we’ll be back tomorrow to check on you all,” she replies, handing Violet a stack of paperwork. “If you’ve decided on a name, we can fill out the registration paperwork tomorrow. But for now, enjoy your first night as parents. Karen is on call if you need her,” she adds, leaving the room with Jerry.

“I’m starving,” Violet declares, heading to the kitchen counter to grab a plate and fork. She starts eating before she even sits down.

“Birth will do that. How are you feeling, darling?” Carla asks. I turn to look at the reflective bifold doors. It’s dark enough outside now that I can see Tyler and me with our little red-headed baby on my chest. I intertwine my fingers with Tyler’s. This is nice.

“My turn,” Zach announces, plucking the tiny girl from my chest before I can protest.

“Can we name her already?” I ask, watching Zach cradle her in the crook of his arm as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. She looks so small against his large frame.

“I actually like Ella now,” Tyler says. I like that too.

“I guess it sounds nice,” Zach comments, walking around the kitchen counter. I watch anxiously as he holds her one-handed, eating from a plate with his other hand. He could drop her. She could hit her head on the floor or the corner of the counter.

“I like Ella too,” Violet says, looking over at her and stroking her cheek with one finger as she chews her food.

“Ella Henderson,” she says, looking up at Zach, then at me, and finally at Tyler.

“Ella,” we all echo.

“Well, welcome to the world, Ella. It’s lovely to meet you,” Carla says, holding out her hands. Zach hands her over easily, and Carla coos at Ella. I walk over to the kitchen, frustrated. Now I understand why Tyler wanted to ban everyone from visiting.

“Ella. What a lovely name for a lovely girl,” Jerry says, coming up behind Carla to look at Ella. He doesn’t ask to hold her, which I’m grateful for. If one more person passes her around, I might lose it. Instead, he strokes her head.

“You will be one treasured little girl, my sweet,” he says in a tone I’ve never heard him use. His eyes are shiny with unshed tears as he looks up at the four of us and then back down at Ella.

I eat standing next to Carla, watching her and Ella. Ella sleeps with her mouth wide open, just like Violet. Her eyelids flutter as she breathes deeply.

“Can I?” Violet asks tentatively, reaching out for Ella. Carla kisses the top of her head.

“You look exhausted, darling. Why don’t you five go upstairs? I’ll clean up, and we’ll head home,” she suggests. I couldn’t agree more.

“Thank you, Carla,” Violet says, walking toward the front of the house with Ella. I follow closely, ensuring our girls are safe. Zach and Tyler aren’t far behind.

“Do you want her to sleep with us, or should we put her in the snoo?” Tyler asks, already in bed.

“Here, hold her for a second?” Violet climbs into bed and lays down with Ella, who starts nuzzling her breast. I watch as she guides Ella toward her nipple.

My body reacts in a way I didn’t expect. I shouldn’t find breastfeeding arousing, yet all I want to do is take her as soon as she’s done feeding the baby.

“Yup, they’re not ours anymore, daddy,” Zach whispers in my ear from behind.

“Don’t call me that again,” I warn, making him chuckle.

“You are her daddy, Cal,” he reminds me.

I roll my eyes, laying on the opposite side of Violet. She gets comfortable, laying sideways with Ella on a pillow. I spoon her from behind, my hand resting lightly on her already much smaller stomach. Zach spoons Tyler on the other side of the bed. The five of us are in bed together for the first time.

“Well, that was eventful,” Violet says with a nervous laugh.

“We fucking nearly missed it. I’m never going against Cal again,” Zach says from the other side of the bed, smirking at me.

“Yup, it’s like Cal had a sixth sense. We should have stayed home,” Tyler agrees, leaning over to kiss Violet’s head.

“I’ve been telling you for weeks one of us should be home with her,” I say, just to rub it in that I was right.

“We need a house phone. Maybe a panic button or something,” she suggests, closing her eyes.

“If you remembered your phone, we wouldn’t need either,” Zach teases her.

“It’s fine, baby. We’ll have both by the end of the week,” I promise her as she drifts off to sleep.

The three of us lay in contented silence. I can barely see Ella from here, just the side profile of her face and one chubby cheek.

“The twenty-second of January,” Tyler says after a long silence.

He’s right. That’s today’s date. Ella’s birthday. His birthday is in six days. The twenty-eighth. None of us expected her to arrive before then. I’d even joked that she might be born on Valentine’s Day, Violet’s birthday.

“I can’t believe she’s here. We have a baby. A stinking cute one at that,” Zach says, sitting up to stroke Ella’s cheek. His eyes are glassy again, like he might cry.

“I’m glad we came back and didn’t go to the club. We all would have missed it, and she would have been alone,” I say. I hate that she had to go through the hard parts alone, with no support. No one to guide her through the pain or set up the pool. No music, no candles, like she’d planned.

“I know we’re all going to be home on paternity leave for the next few months, but when we go back, I think one of us should stay home with her. Today was too close. None of us knew where she was, and she had no way to communicate,” Zach says as Ella detaches from Violet’s breast and rolls onto her back. Her little mouth stays open as she snoozes.

The flash of a camera snaps my attention, and I hiss at Zach for being so thoughtless.

“Don’t wake her,” I snap, and he gives me a strange look. A smirk that I want to wipe off his face.

“She better get used to it because I doubt she’ll go a day without having at least one photo,” he teases. Jerk.

“Don’t force me to hurl your phone at the wall. The girls need their rest, they must be exhausted.”

“If you two continue to bicker, they’ll wake up. The flash from Zach’s phone won’t disturb them, Callum. Both of you be considerate. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll watch for a few hours to make sure she’s safe” Tyler interjects, causing us to retreat, sinking back into our pillows. Silence fills the room again as I gaze at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim me, even though my body is far from ready to rest. It’s too energized for that.

“You’re going to be a helicopter mom,” Zach murmurs.

“What the hell does that mean? And I’m not a mom.”

“You won’t give her space to grow, she won’t be able to breathe without you ensuring it’s done correctly,” he clarifies.

I burst into laughter, a deep, hearty laugh. That was my mother. She did that my entire life.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I turned out fine.”

“Enough. Go to sleep,” Tyler orders, and we both fall silent. Am I going to be the overbearing dad? I always resented my mom for doing it. I despised the fact she was there for everything, fussing over me when I fell even though I didn’t need her to. The attention I received at soccer games when I fell…and her fussing over me was almost suffocating.

“Can you make sure I’m not too overbearing?” I ask, glancing over at them. “Please?”

“How about we say ‘yellow’ when you’re being too much and ‘red’ when you need to back off completely?” Zach suggests.

“Sounds good,” I agree before we fall into silence once more.