Page 65 of Lost Lyrebird

Just a memory.

For this alone, I commit to helping him as much as I’m capable.He gives me his address, and I promise to show up after I head back to my hotel and change into something more appropriate for the domestic insanity I just signed up for.

I can do this.

Right?

Oh, God.The shit I get myself into.

Bodie’s children are cute but a handful.Hallie is a month away from turning one, and she’s a small bundle of feistiness who toddles around as she figures out how to use her little legs.She falls quite often but merely picks herself back up and tries again.

Tanner’s three and totally gives off Dennis the Menace vibes: looks like an angel, acts like a gremlin.Blond hair, big baby-blue eyes like his dad’s, and a grin that says he knowsexactlywhat he’s getting away with.

From an outsider looking in, I’d say Tanner’s behavior is mainly an attempt to get his dad’s attention.

But I’m no expert.Any parenting knowledge I have is primarily derived from literature and my studies in psychology and sociology.I particularly loved the discussions on these topics in my college courses.Like how nature and the world around someone can change them, versus the different ways nurturing or not nurturing, in a sense, can impact who a person becomes.

Schooling had always been a sore subject for me.It had been a barrier for steady employment and something I had to work around in my teens, which sort of led me down my path.So later, when Deeds told me he could get me a fake identity and I could go back if I wanted to, I jumped at the opportunity.

The fact that my degree is in a fake name doesn’t matter to me.I didn’t do it to put it on a resumé or to mount some plaque on a wall.I did it because I loved learning.I spent my free time in local libraries, devouring editorial pieces in various magazines, whether they were about other parts of the world, fashion, cultures, music, history, art, or mental development.I consumed it all.I’d developed a voracious appetite for learning that seemed to have no end.

So yeah, as I watch Bodie rock out with Tanner after he yanked out every pan from the cupboard so that he could beat them with a stick, I have to hold in these truths, or any wisdom I can glean from their personalities and Bodie’s parenting style, because these are parts of myself I don’t share with another soul—the pieces of me I hide away from the world so I can appear to be who I need to be on any given job.

I can see how playing with Tanner, encouraging art in any form, even if it’s drumming on pots and pans, might change something fundamental about him.It just might plant a seed for his love of music, or show an early talent that he could develop as he grows.Had his dad shut it down immediately, what might that have done?

These are the things my own mother didn’t consider.And maybe Bodie doesn’t either, but he’s not discouraging Tanner because it’s loud and annoying, he’s diving right in, and it’s doing the trick.It’s wearing them both out, and they’re laughing like lunatics.

Tanner might not remember it, but Bodie will, and another seed is planted from the bond this little moment created, which is kind of beautiful if you think about it.

It’s not like the neighbors can hear, and it’s still daylight, so even if they could, so what?

Let the kid rock out if he wants to.I’m not sure if that’s sound parenting, but it’s what I would do in this situation.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table, trying and failing to feed Hallie the gloppy orange baby food in a jar that Bodie handed over with a tiny rubber spoon.It’s everywhere.The bib caught some of the mess.The rest, though, is smeared over the lower half of her face.It’s in her hair, since she grabbed the spoon at one point before I could move it away fast enough.

Bodie assured me it’s nothing a bath won’t fix, but the lack of control over this situation has thrown me for a loop.It’s an entirely new experience.I call it a win, since I’ve managed to get at least half the jar of food into her small mouth.

From there, we don’t even attempt to make dinner.I call for a pizza delivery.While we wait, Bodie bathes his kids.He ends up calling me in to help wrangle Hallie into a towel, so that he could do the same with Tanner.

I’m not entirely sure where everything is, but after searching the yellow dresser in Tanner and Hallie’s shared room, I find a set of PJs that look as if they’ll fit, and hold them up to Bodie for inspection.

“Yeah, but diaper first.”He points at the changing table in the corner.

It’s not until this moment that anxiety hits.Carefully, I lay Hallie out on the small mattress resting on top.She greets me with a soft smile and lets out a nonsensical word.Then she proceeds to wiggle out of the towel she’s wrapped in.I stand close so she can’t fall off and reach for one of the diapers from the pile off to the side.

I stare at it for longer than necessary.I’m not dumb.I know how this works.But putting a diaper on a real, live, wiggling child makes it somehow like an experiment I’m trying to navigate without any actual instructions as to how to go about it.

I turn back and plead with Bodie, “A little help.”He’s running his hands over Tanner’s wet curls as Tanner proceeds to yank toys out of his wooden, ornate toybox and toss them to the floor.The box is dark wood and stained.It looks like something you’d see on a pirate ship.It’s beautiful.

Bodie stands next to me.He smiles at Hallie and tickles her.This does not help my anxiety at all because, if anything, she becomes more wriggly.When the tickling stops, Bodie looks at me.His blue-eyed gaze pings from me to the diaper, to Hallie, back to the diaper, and then back to me.

Amusement dances over his face.Those damn dimples make an appearance, though he tries to stifle his grin.

“Shut up,” I snap.

He meshes his lips together, but he can’t hide that he’s getting a kick out of this.I try to pass him the diaper.He holds up his hands and takes a step back.

“She’s your baby,” I insist.