In The Clear | ✓

18 | motherhood

Jensen had been breastfeeding for a month and was not sure if she wanted to be doing so for another five months. She was sore and cranky and utterly exhausted. And although Jensen didn't want to admit it to anyone else, she was having a hard time feeling worthy of Beckett. Which made Jensen wish she could pay for another brain and switch out hers.

            Jensen fell asleep on the living room couch while watching cartoons with Rocky on an easy Sunday morning. Miles promised her that he would take care of Beckett because they didn't want Rocky to feel like they were ignoring her because of the new baby. When Jensen fell asleep, they'd been watching a riveting episode of Peppa Pig that had something to do with whistling. When Jensen was woken up, there was a severe lack of Rocky on the couch and The Wiggles was on the TV.

            Jensen frowned as her eyes adjusted to the lighting in the room. "Hmm?"

            "Hey, I'm sorry," Miles said gently.

            "What's wrong?" Jensen pushed herself up onto her elbows, tilting her head to stretch her neck.

            "I—um—"

            Jensen's eyes widened when she recognized what was going on. Miles' hair was covered in what looked like oatmeal but Jensen knew all too well was vomit. "Oh."

            "Yeah." Miles smiled sheepishly. "I need a shower."

            Jensen sat up properly and held her hands out. Miles pulled a cloth from his back pocket and handed it to Jensen, who tossed it over her shoulder. Gently cradling Beckett's head and neck, Miles handed Beckett to Jensen.

            "Little bit of spit up, baby boy?" she asked softly, holding him against her chest and shoulder.

            Miles shook his head. "Not a little."

            "What happened?"

            "I held him above my head and... and I'm sure you can guess what happened next."

            Jensen waved her hand dismissively. "Go shower."

            "You don't think I should keep the frosted tips?"

            Jensen wrinkled her nose. "Miles."

            "Bad joke?"

            "Are you going to shower or not?"

            "Definitely showering," Miles said. "Thank you for taking him."

            "He's my son too."

            "I—yeah, of course," Miles said, "you were sleeping. I just—"

            "You weren't up until two in the morning feeding him."

            Miles' eyes widened. "No, I wasn't. I'm... I didn't want to wake you up. Sorry."

            "I'm awake now," Jensen said. "Go take your shower."

            "Is something wrong?"

            "No." Jensen hated how short she was being. She didn't know what he'd done that irritated her so much, but something had. It wasn't being woken up, that had happened far too many times in the last month. Jensen wasn't sure the last time she'd had an uninterrupted sleep. Probably over three years.

            "Are you sure?" Miles asked. "'Cause we can talk—"

            "I'm fine," Jensen said. Which she hoped didn't sound like the lie it was. "Go."