muse_shuffle | December
Track 11. All the world just stopped now
(Tori Amos - ‘Tear in Your Hand’)
Co-written with agentsullivan
[Follows THIS]
Andrew stroked his finger over the soft, smooth cheek of the baby girl nestled snugly in his arms. He smiled down at her and patted the underside of the fluffy pink bundle. She smelt like baby powder and a hint of vanilla, sleeping on totally oblivious to her surroundings. He had always loved kids and babies, he just never had much first-hand experience with them beyond his work as a paramedic. This was different. He wasn’t at work and she wasn’t screaming in pain or projectile vomiting all over him. He didn’t think there was any more perfect sight than a new born baby. The little face screwed up slightly and she made a soft snuffling sound, closely followed by the not-so-ladylike telltale sound that she was about to fill her nappy. He laughed. “Is this the part where I pass her back over to her mum?” he teased, glancing up at Ali with smile.
“Like mother like daughter,” Ali said in amusement. She slowly placed her empty plate on the coffee table beside her and gestured to Andrew’s own untouched plate of chocolate cake with cream sitting beside it. “I would say that was going to get cold, but it’s supposed to be cold.”
“It’s okay,” Andrew assured her. “I don’t mind. She’s hardly causing me a bother, is she?” He rocked the baby a little and tucked his finger into her tiny hand.
Ali smirked. “She farted on you and you’re still smitten. If only all us girls were so lucky,” she commented and then leant forward, watching him with an awed smile on her face. “You’re a natural at stuff like this. I’m finding it hard to believe you haven’t been snapped up and reproduced numerous times. Hell, I want to pinch your DNA right now and clone you ten times over you’re so sweet.” Definitely sweet. So not her type. So, why was she wanting more and more to be in his presence? And why wasn’t he running screaming into the night at the prospect of spending time with a single mother with more emotional issues than runaway teenager? Nothing made sense and the more she tried to analyse it, the more he surprised her. Why was she even thinking like this? The last thing she could think about right now was dating or relationships. Hell, if Sunshine kept her on her toes as much as she had done already, she was never going to get laid again. Not that sex was on the menu, either. After pushing a fleshy football out of oneself, you weren’t actually left feeling of the sexy at all. In fact, it was difficult not to give into temptation to walk around with her legs constantly spread apart or perch on an ice pack for the rest of her days. There was nothing glamorous or comfortable about giving birth. She needed her hair done, a good waxing, and a manicure, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t give a flying fuck about her appearance. It was a feat enough to drag on some track pants, a t-shirt, brush her hair, and get the rugrat on the go singlehandedly.
“Oh, hey, we all get gas, don’t we? Just means she enjoyed her lunch, didn’t you sweetheart?” Andrew murmured down at the tiny bundle. He met Ali’s eyes again with a wry smile. “I told you. I suck at the whole meeting dates thing. I make a dick of myself and then they usually lose interest. Do you want me to change her for you? I can do it before I head home. I’m on shift in two hours, unfortunately.”
Ali felt a pang of disappointment hearing this. She didn’t want him to go yet. She had really enjoyed his company that afternoon. They shared lunch of pizza while Jamie napped and then he helped her tackle the horror of the baby buggy so she at least had confidence to venture out in it at some point in the future. He spoke about seeing his cousin again and meeting his girlfriend, then of the young guy with MS whose boyfriend was blaming himself. He told her all about the bar his cousin owned and made her promise to have a drink there sometime. They laughed when Ali completely failed at trying to work out a new onsie Max had bought for his niece, nearly having her daughter’s legs snapped into the sleeves of the garment. Now he was telling her he had to go and the loneliness gnawed in her gut again. A glance at the clock told her Max wouldn’t be home for hours. It was her and Sunshine again, and the prospect scared her.
But she didn’t let on to her feelings. She just smiled at him and shook her head. “No, I can tackle the diaper. I don’t want you thinking I just invited you around to be my rugrat slave,” she laughed softly and picked up his plate of cake. “How about I wrap this up for you and you can take it with you? You can’t not have dessert when I’ve shouted you lunch.”
Andrew titled his head. “How about I wrap the cake and you change Jamie?” he bargained, rising slowly. He held the infant securely in one arm and took the plate from Ali so she would have her arms free to take her daughter. “Otherwise, you’re going to make me feel useless,” he teased.
“Deal,” Ali agreed with a fond shake of her head. She scooped the baby into her arms, still needing to resort to holding her tightly for fear of losing her grip and dropping her. The Maternity nurses had assured her she would gain more and more confidence over time. “There is no arguing with you, is there?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you think you’re winning,” Andrew joked and brushed Jamie’s baby-fine hair down before heading into the kitchen with the plate.
Ali gave a snort of laugh. “I’ll kick your arse, Connor,” she warned jokingly. She carefully laid the baby onto the blanket spread out on the living room floor and tugged her pink Louis Vuitton diaper bag towards her. A present from Max, because he figured she needed to do motherhood in style.
“Promise?” Andrew easily joked back, calling from the kitchen.
Ali smiled to herself, telling herself not to get used to their comfortable banter together. She listened to him moving around in the kitchen looking for what he needed as she carefully took her time changing her daughter’s dirty diaper. “Holy hell, Sunshine. How do you produce horrific stuff like this?! It doesn’t look like this going in, it shouldn’t even come close to this coming out again!” she cried, almost gagging at the smell. That was another thing. She still hadn’t acquired the stomach of steel to adequately deal with baby poo. She had puked no less than five times since giving birth whilst trying to change a diaper. She held the back of her wrist to her nose, swallowing heavily to try and tackle the want to heave.
Andrew stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a neatly foil-wrapped piece of cake. He was smirking as he watched Ali try to tackle the dirty diaper, but he knew she would scale the mountain and do the deed with ease. He went over to her and fished the wipes out of the bag and handed some to her. “You could stick bandaids over your nose and breathe through your mouth,” he suggested. “One day you’ll wake up and realise that you aren’t gagging at all. It’ll be second nature. I swear, my cousin can change eight diapers at once and still yell at the kids chasing each other around the sofa whilst checking over her legal briefs.”
“Oh hell, one diaper is more than enough for me to tackle. It’s going to be a miracle if I don’t screw this bundle of joy up. Kids are rocket science to me. I’ve never had to deal with them in my life. You can imagine how I took it when I found out I was knocked up,” Ali mumbled, concentrating as she cleaned the mess up and moved on to the bottle of baby powder.
“Now that she’s here, do you still feel like you did back then?” Andrew asked and handed her a fresh diaper. As if on cue, the baby started to whimper and broke into uncomfortable sobbing at being in the inelegant position. He rubbed her bare stomach softly, trying to soothe her.
Ali scrunched her nose up at the crying. It just distressed her, but she knew she had to get used to it. She would probably throw a tantrum too if someone whipped her knickers off in the middle of winter and tried smearing white powder all over her. She slipped the diaper under Jamie’s tiny bare bottom and secured it into place. “No, I don’t feel anything like I did back then,” she had to eventually admit. “I know the whole mother and baby thing is beyond me, but I love her like I’ve never loved anyone or anything in my whole life. I know she’s part of me and she’s mine and that I think I did a pretty fucking fantastic thing helping to create her. I know that she’s totally reliant on me for absolutely everything and that when she cries, I have to make it better.” Her hand brushed against Andrew’s as she pulled the little jumpsuit back into place and glanced at him, holding his gaze for a moment. “I’m proud she’s mine, but I have times I wish she had one of those perfect mums who are just a natural at everything, like your cousin and her eight diapers, so she could have the best of absolutely fucking everything. Or at least a Mum who can keep a father figure in her life…”
“She has the best of everything,” Andrew assured her softly. “You’re her Mum and no one else can be that for her, and right now, that is her everything. She doesn’t need her Dad right now because you have everything it takes to pull this off, Ali. She’s a very content baby. I promise you, you’re doing something right and you’re only going to get better and better.”
Ali lifted the baby back into her arms and cradled her against her chest. The crying has abated to soft, disjointed whimpers as she naturally nuzzled into Ali’s chest. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cry again,” she warned and let Andrew help her back to her feet. “No one warned me the post-pregnancy hormones were just as arse as the during-pregnancy ones.”
Andrew rested his hand on the small of her back. “Are you going to be okay when I go? I’m worried you’re going to sit here in a sobbing mess when I leave now,” he admitted. “Can I call someone to come keep you company?”
Ali shook her head dismissively and led him to the door, sniffling to halt the tears before they came. “No, cross my heart, I won’t. I might just curl up on the sofa with my rugrat and teach her the joys of Dr Phil and Oprah.” She smiled at him. “Thanks again for being a shoulder for me to lean on. We’ll have to do this again sometime. Have you got your cake?” she asked as they reached the door.
Andrew held the foil package up. “Dinner,” he laughed. “And you’ve got my number if you need anything?”
Ali nodded. “Practically stored in my memory banks already,” she promised. She hesitated, feeling like she should hug him or something. “Don’t… work too hard…” she murmured, holding his gaze. Even his eyes had that warm, tender glint to them.
“I won’t…” Andrew said, his soft tone matching hers. His hand was still on her back and he kind of felt like he should hug her too. Which is why he shocked himself when he leaned in and caught her lips with his in a warm kiss.
Ali kissed back. There was no hesitation as she let his tongue seek out hers. Even though she was cradling the baby in her arms, the kiss wasn’t awkward. He tasted amazing, his lips were soft and warm, and he was a fucking damn fine kisser. But that was the last easy thought she had before warning bells shrieked in her brain and she pulled back abruptly, a breathless gasp falling from her lips. “No-” She shook her head. “Fuck, no! Goddamnit! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Andrew’s stomach lurched in horror at the realisation of what had just happened. He had kissed her and she hated it. She didn’t want it. It was one huge fuck up. He felt his face burn and he took a horrified step backwards. “I- I- I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean… I… I’m sorry…”
A deep panic had set in and Ali was once again fighting tears. What the fuck was she thinking kissing him back and leading him on?! She couldn’t be kissing him! Her life was fucked! She had a kid and he was like two years younger than her! She should be dating blond lawyers who liked to fuck around, and who were at least ten years older than her, not sweet, kind paramedics! He wasn’t her type and this was all wrong! Mark was her type. Mark had to be her type. “Just go!” she choked out. “None of this should have happened! Just fucking forget it, alright? We never met!”
Andrew was numb as he stepped out of her apartment with a barely visible nod. His eyes dropped from Ali’s horrified face down to the baby and then back again. He was about to apologise again but found the door slammed in his face. What the fuck had just happened?
How could he have been so stupid?
Word Count | 2,328
(Tori Amos - ‘Tear in Your Hand’)
Co-written with agentsullivan
[Follows THIS]
Andrew stroked his finger over the soft, smooth cheek of the baby girl nestled snugly in his arms. He smiled down at her and patted the underside of the fluffy pink bundle. She smelt like baby powder and a hint of vanilla, sleeping on totally oblivious to her surroundings. He had always loved kids and babies, he just never had much first-hand experience with them beyond his work as a paramedic. This was different. He wasn’t at work and she wasn’t screaming in pain or projectile vomiting all over him. He didn’t think there was any more perfect sight than a new born baby. The little face screwed up slightly and she made a soft snuffling sound, closely followed by the not-so-ladylike telltale sound that she was about to fill her nappy. He laughed. “Is this the part where I pass her back over to her mum?” he teased, glancing up at Ali with smile.
“Like mother like daughter,” Ali said in amusement. She slowly placed her empty plate on the coffee table beside her and gestured to Andrew’s own untouched plate of chocolate cake with cream sitting beside it. “I would say that was going to get cold, but it’s supposed to be cold.”
“It’s okay,” Andrew assured her. “I don’t mind. She’s hardly causing me a bother, is she?” He rocked the baby a little and tucked his finger into her tiny hand.
Ali smirked. “She farted on you and you’re still smitten. If only all us girls were so lucky,” she commented and then leant forward, watching him with an awed smile on her face. “You’re a natural at stuff like this. I’m finding it hard to believe you haven’t been snapped up and reproduced numerous times. Hell, I want to pinch your DNA right now and clone you ten times over you’re so sweet.” Definitely sweet. So not her type. So, why was she wanting more and more to be in his presence? And why wasn’t he running screaming into the night at the prospect of spending time with a single mother with more emotional issues than runaway teenager? Nothing made sense and the more she tried to analyse it, the more he surprised her. Why was she even thinking like this? The last thing she could think about right now was dating or relationships. Hell, if Sunshine kept her on her toes as much as she had done already, she was never going to get laid again. Not that sex was on the menu, either. After pushing a fleshy football out of oneself, you weren’t actually left feeling of the sexy at all. In fact, it was difficult not to give into temptation to walk around with her legs constantly spread apart or perch on an ice pack for the rest of her days. There was nothing glamorous or comfortable about giving birth. She needed her hair done, a good waxing, and a manicure, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t give a flying fuck about her appearance. It was a feat enough to drag on some track pants, a t-shirt, brush her hair, and get the rugrat on the go singlehandedly.
“Oh, hey, we all get gas, don’t we? Just means she enjoyed her lunch, didn’t you sweetheart?” Andrew murmured down at the tiny bundle. He met Ali’s eyes again with a wry smile. “I told you. I suck at the whole meeting dates thing. I make a dick of myself and then they usually lose interest. Do you want me to change her for you? I can do it before I head home. I’m on shift in two hours, unfortunately.”
Ali felt a pang of disappointment hearing this. She didn’t want him to go yet. She had really enjoyed his company that afternoon. They shared lunch of pizza while Jamie napped and then he helped her tackle the horror of the baby buggy so she at least had confidence to venture out in it at some point in the future. He spoke about seeing his cousin again and meeting his girlfriend, then of the young guy with MS whose boyfriend was blaming himself. He told her all about the bar his cousin owned and made her promise to have a drink there sometime. They laughed when Ali completely failed at trying to work out a new onsie Max had bought for his niece, nearly having her daughter’s legs snapped into the sleeves of the garment. Now he was telling her he had to go and the loneliness gnawed in her gut again. A glance at the clock told her Max wouldn’t be home for hours. It was her and Sunshine again, and the prospect scared her.
But she didn’t let on to her feelings. She just smiled at him and shook her head. “No, I can tackle the diaper. I don’t want you thinking I just invited you around to be my rugrat slave,” she laughed softly and picked up his plate of cake. “How about I wrap this up for you and you can take it with you? You can’t not have dessert when I’ve shouted you lunch.”
Andrew titled his head. “How about I wrap the cake and you change Jamie?” he bargained, rising slowly. He held the infant securely in one arm and took the plate from Ali so she would have her arms free to take her daughter. “Otherwise, you’re going to make me feel useless,” he teased.
“Deal,” Ali agreed with a fond shake of her head. She scooped the baby into her arms, still needing to resort to holding her tightly for fear of losing her grip and dropping her. The Maternity nurses had assured her she would gain more and more confidence over time. “There is no arguing with you, is there?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you think you’re winning,” Andrew joked and brushed Jamie’s baby-fine hair down before heading into the kitchen with the plate.
Ali gave a snort of laugh. “I’ll kick your arse, Connor,” she warned jokingly. She carefully laid the baby onto the blanket spread out on the living room floor and tugged her pink Louis Vuitton diaper bag towards her. A present from Max, because he figured she needed to do motherhood in style.
“Promise?” Andrew easily joked back, calling from the kitchen.
Ali smiled to herself, telling herself not to get used to their comfortable banter together. She listened to him moving around in the kitchen looking for what he needed as she carefully took her time changing her daughter’s dirty diaper. “Holy hell, Sunshine. How do you produce horrific stuff like this?! It doesn’t look like this going in, it shouldn’t even come close to this coming out again!” she cried, almost gagging at the smell. That was another thing. She still hadn’t acquired the stomach of steel to adequately deal with baby poo. She had puked no less than five times since giving birth whilst trying to change a diaper. She held the back of her wrist to her nose, swallowing heavily to try and tackle the want to heave.
Andrew stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a neatly foil-wrapped piece of cake. He was smirking as he watched Ali try to tackle the dirty diaper, but he knew she would scale the mountain and do the deed with ease. He went over to her and fished the wipes out of the bag and handed some to her. “You could stick bandaids over your nose and breathe through your mouth,” he suggested. “One day you’ll wake up and realise that you aren’t gagging at all. It’ll be second nature. I swear, my cousin can change eight diapers at once and still yell at the kids chasing each other around the sofa whilst checking over her legal briefs.”
“Oh hell, one diaper is more than enough for me to tackle. It’s going to be a miracle if I don’t screw this bundle of joy up. Kids are rocket science to me. I’ve never had to deal with them in my life. You can imagine how I took it when I found out I was knocked up,” Ali mumbled, concentrating as she cleaned the mess up and moved on to the bottle of baby powder.
“Now that she’s here, do you still feel like you did back then?” Andrew asked and handed her a fresh diaper. As if on cue, the baby started to whimper and broke into uncomfortable sobbing at being in the inelegant position. He rubbed her bare stomach softly, trying to soothe her.
Ali scrunched her nose up at the crying. It just distressed her, but she knew she had to get used to it. She would probably throw a tantrum too if someone whipped her knickers off in the middle of winter and tried smearing white powder all over her. She slipped the diaper under Jamie’s tiny bare bottom and secured it into place. “No, I don’t feel anything like I did back then,” she had to eventually admit. “I know the whole mother and baby thing is beyond me, but I love her like I’ve never loved anyone or anything in my whole life. I know she’s part of me and she’s mine and that I think I did a pretty fucking fantastic thing helping to create her. I know that she’s totally reliant on me for absolutely everything and that when she cries, I have to make it better.” Her hand brushed against Andrew’s as she pulled the little jumpsuit back into place and glanced at him, holding his gaze for a moment. “I’m proud she’s mine, but I have times I wish she had one of those perfect mums who are just a natural at everything, like your cousin and her eight diapers, so she could have the best of absolutely fucking everything. Or at least a Mum who can keep a father figure in her life…”
“She has the best of everything,” Andrew assured her softly. “You’re her Mum and no one else can be that for her, and right now, that is her everything. She doesn’t need her Dad right now because you have everything it takes to pull this off, Ali. She’s a very content baby. I promise you, you’re doing something right and you’re only going to get better and better.”
Ali lifted the baby back into her arms and cradled her against her chest. The crying has abated to soft, disjointed whimpers as she naturally nuzzled into Ali’s chest. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cry again,” she warned and let Andrew help her back to her feet. “No one warned me the post-pregnancy hormones were just as arse as the during-pregnancy ones.”
Andrew rested his hand on the small of her back. “Are you going to be okay when I go? I’m worried you’re going to sit here in a sobbing mess when I leave now,” he admitted. “Can I call someone to come keep you company?”
Ali shook her head dismissively and led him to the door, sniffling to halt the tears before they came. “No, cross my heart, I won’t. I might just curl up on the sofa with my rugrat and teach her the joys of Dr Phil and Oprah.” She smiled at him. “Thanks again for being a shoulder for me to lean on. We’ll have to do this again sometime. Have you got your cake?” she asked as they reached the door.
Andrew held the foil package up. “Dinner,” he laughed. “And you’ve got my number if you need anything?”
Ali nodded. “Practically stored in my memory banks already,” she promised. She hesitated, feeling like she should hug him or something. “Don’t… work too hard…” she murmured, holding his gaze. Even his eyes had that warm, tender glint to them.
“I won’t…” Andrew said, his soft tone matching hers. His hand was still on her back and he kind of felt like he should hug her too. Which is why he shocked himself when he leaned in and caught her lips with his in a warm kiss.
Ali kissed back. There was no hesitation as she let his tongue seek out hers. Even though she was cradling the baby in her arms, the kiss wasn’t awkward. He tasted amazing, his lips were soft and warm, and he was a fucking damn fine kisser. But that was the last easy thought she had before warning bells shrieked in her brain and she pulled back abruptly, a breathless gasp falling from her lips. “No-” She shook her head. “Fuck, no! Goddamnit! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Andrew’s stomach lurched in horror at the realisation of what had just happened. He had kissed her and she hated it. She didn’t want it. It was one huge fuck up. He felt his face burn and he took a horrified step backwards. “I- I- I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean… I… I’m sorry…”
A deep panic had set in and Ali was once again fighting tears. What the fuck was she thinking kissing him back and leading him on?! She couldn’t be kissing him! Her life was fucked! She had a kid and he was like two years younger than her! She should be dating blond lawyers who liked to fuck around, and who were at least ten years older than her, not sweet, kind paramedics! He wasn’t her type and this was all wrong! Mark was her type. Mark had to be her type. “Just go!” she choked out. “None of this should have happened! Just fucking forget it, alright? We never met!”
Andrew was numb as he stepped out of her apartment with a barely visible nod. His eyes dropped from Ali’s horrified face down to the baby and then back again. He was about to apologise again but found the door slammed in his face. What the fuck had just happened?
How could he have been so stupid?
Word Count | 2,328