Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Dallas, don't give me lip. If you wake up Baby with all this cussing you're gonna be sorry, you hear me?" I snap at Dally as he awkwardly holds Tucker in his arms. With everyone off to school or work, or getting themselves into trouble, I jump at the the opportunity to show Dally how to take care of HIS baby.

"God, then let's get on with it!" he says, readjusting Tucker in his arms. Tucker really doesn't cry a lot, and that is a blessing. Dallas Winston with a kid is bad enough. Dallas Winston with a whiny kid would be a disaster.

"Okay. First things first. He needs a bath. You got clothes and blankets, yeah?" I ask him.

"Yeah, in that bag over there," he says, motioning his head to a big black bag on the couch. I open it up, and there's everything you could ever think of. Baby food, clothes, blankets, shoes, diapers, baby wipes, and everything else. Some stuff I could use myself.

"Man, she really dumped him on you didn't she?" I ask him.

"Psh, yeah. She pretty much threw him in my arms and dropped the bag at my feet and went in her way. Good for nothing, I tell you," he says, shaking his head.

I get out a few blankets, a change of clothes, and things to change Tucker's diaper.

"Woah, I thought he was taking a bath," Dallas says.

"You think it's gonna be easy?" I ask him, walking into the kitchen. "He's a baby, Dal. He can't do this on his own."

I fill up the sink and add some liquid soap to the water after making sure it wasn't too hot. I'm praying in my mind that he won't scream when we put him in for a bath. The last thing I need is Dal storming off and leaving me with two babies to care for.

"Okay. Take all of his clothes off," I say. Dallas stares at me, like somehow it will magically happen. I take Tucker from him and lay him on the table. He squirms around a bit, and furrows his eyebrows like the little Winston boy he is.

"Now. Take his clothes off," I say a bit more sternly.

He curses under his breath, and he slowly undoes the onesie.

"There. Now slip it over his head, make sure it don't hang on his ears," I say.

He eventually takes the onesie all the way off- and that's when I saw it- the little boy's body is littered with faint bruises.

"What the hell is that!?" Dallas says, running his hands through his hair. He's angry, and he looks like he's ready to snap.

"They put hands on that kid. My kid. Sylvia, I swear to god if I ever see her again... Letting people treat him this way. I'll kill her. I'll just...I'll..."

"Dally, listen to me," I say, grabbing his arm. "You are the one taking care of him now. YOU. Ain't nobody gonna hurt him anymore. But you're the only person he has. So step up, and be his father."

He starts to say something and tries to pop off, but he just nods, returning his attention back to Tucker. I know he may look alright on the outside, but I know on the inside is fury and rage that's being held back.

"Ok... It's gonna be alright. Just... take his diaper off now," I say, my heart breaking at the sight of the bruises.

"Okay, now pick him up, and we can put him in the sink."

Dallas takes the baby in his arms, and slowly sets him in the sink. Tucker splashes and smiles at the water, and Dallas just looks at him, emotionless, his mind somewhere else.

"Alright. Now let me hold him, and you can wash him off. Until he can really hold himself up, you might need a little help with giving him a bath."

I slip my hands under the wiggling baby, as Dally put a little soap on a rag. He washes him off, refusing to look at his own son face to face. But Tucker just stares at him the whole time, his little eyes looking at nothing else but his daddy.

"So what about that?" Dallas asks, pointing to the baby's hair.

"Okay, this gets kinda hard. Put a rag over his face, and take a glass and pour water over his head. Use the rag so it won't get in his eyes. Do that to rinse it out, too. He might cry, but do it anyways."

Dallas hesitates, but eventually does it. He covers Tucker's little eyes with a rag, and dumps a little bit of water over his head. When he takes the rag off of his face, Tucker's giggling hysterically. His toothless smile id priceless, and he's still looking straight at Dally. And this time, Dally is looking back.

"You like this, don't you?" Dally says, smiling. I almost fall over, seeing Dally with a kid. This is actually happening. And with both of them looking at each other and smiling, there is no denying that Tucker is his son.

He washes the boy's hair and rinses it out, and Tucker goes into such a laughing fit, Dally even lets out a laugh a few times.

"Alright, let's get him out. I think the water is getting cold."

"Sure thing," Dally says. He picks him up out of the sink, and I help him wrap a blanket around the bouncy little boy.

I show him how to put the clothes back on Tucker, and how to change his diaper. That part's very awkward, and Dally holds his breath the whole time. He'd get used to it in time.

A little after Tucker was dressed and clean, he starts to whine. Dally immediately looks at me.

"I..uhh..." he stutters.

"He's probably hungry. You already know how to feed him a little bit, right?"

He nods his head.

I grab Tucker and set him in my lap, bouncing him on my knee.

"Go get some baby food and a spoon."

Dally comes back with everything, and he opens the jar of food. He spoons a bit of it out of the jar, and Tucker happily accepts.

"Feeding him ain't too hard," Dally says, "But how am I supposed to know when to feed him?"

"Whenever he starts to cry, or every couple hours. Trust me, you'll know. You're doing pretty good to hate kids so much."

He smiles. "I'm trying. I don't want to end up like my old man, or like Johnny's. I know I'll slip up sometimes, but there's nothing I can do about that."

"We all slip up," I answer. "We're only human."

Tucker starts to whine again after a while, and he refuses to eat anymore. Through his crying, he yawns, and it's obvious what's wrong.

"He's tired. Take him, daddy," I tell him with a quiet laugh. Dally takes him, and Tucker screams and screams, his arms going every which way.

"Just try to rock him, hold him tight. He's just trying to stay awake, he'll stop soon," I tell him.

Dally looks angry, and I know it's hard for him. He doesn't like little kids in the first place, especially screaming ones that he has to take care of.

"I don't think I can do this. I just... I can't take care of this baby. Doing this everyday? I'm not cut out to be a dad." He takes Tucker and puts him in my arms. "I love him, but I just..."

He starts walking towards the door, and I'm not about to let him do that.

"Dallas, don't you even think about it," I say, right on his heels. "I didn't ask to be a parent, but I am. You might not have planned on knocking that chick up, but you did. So own up to it. If you walk out that damn door, you're gonna be just as bad as a parent as she is. You'll be sitting in jail half this kid's life, and he'll end up just like you. And I know you don't want that, Dallas."

He walks back from the door, his face a mixture of anger and sadness. He takes Tucker from me, who is now nearly asleep.

"I'm sorry. It's just... you had nine months to plan for your kid. I was basically handed Tucker and left with him."

I smile. He finally called him Tucker. That's a start. He sits on the couch and rocks him a little until he finally falls asleep.

"You're trying though. That's what counts. I don't think you're doing a bad job to be Dallas Winston."

"Thanks. That means a lot. And I know I still don't know anything about raising a kid man..."

"It's alright. We have a long time to go over everything," I reply.

I hear a faint crying in the back of the house, and I know Baby's awake.

"I'm still learning myself."