Page 63 of Zone
“You hate Siri.”
“We don’t have a choice,” I mutter, watching the gray dots floating, going from transparent to solid, then the computer answers. I silence her dumb voice, reading the responses quickly. “Your baby could be crying for many reasons… hungry, dirty diaper, sleepy… Oh! I hop over to him. Is she teething?”
He gives me a look. “How the hell would I know?”
My chin lifts, and I repeat the process. “Siri, how do we know if a baby is teething?”
I wait as the dots float, and the robot tells us to check her gums for redness and swelling, see if she’s drooling, and if she tries to chew on things.
“Shehasbeen sucking on her fingers a lot.” he says. “I don’t know if that counts, but it’s like chewing on things.”
“Works for me.” We go through all the steps, doing our best to determine if she’s teething.
At first Cricket doesn’t mind us poking and prodding her gums, inspecting her drool, monitoring her chew habits. Then she gets annoyed, pushing her little fists at us and fussing and straining in Knox’s arms.
We decide she’s teething, and the annoyingly friendly robot tells us we need to massage her gums, give her cold cloths, and…Bingo!
“Baby ibuprofen!” I look up at him. “Screw all that other stuff. The only thing that relieves pain is a pain reliever.” Knox’s brow furrows, and I hesitate. “I mean, if that’s what you want to do. If you’re not comfortable giving her ibuprofen, we can try all those other things. I was just thinking of sleep and…”
“No… Yes!” He nods, carrying her to the kitchen. “I was just wondering if we even had all those things. Throw one of those cloths in the freezer. See if there’s any baby ibuprofen in these bags. We might have to go to the store, only…”
“I can go. Don’t worry, it won’t take any time.”
“Or I can order and have it delivered here tonight?”
“Let’s start with these.” I walk with him into the kitchen where the bags of baby supplies are standing, still unpacked. “You said your cousin ordered this stuff? Does she know a lot about babies?”
“She’s really close to giving birth, so she’s done a lot of research.”
“We really should unpack all this and see what’s here and sort it all.”
His lips tighten, and he hesitates again. “I was going to wait until I knew for sure if she was staying.”
“Oh.” I quickly change directions. “Well, it’s not like Cricket cares if we unpack it all. She doesn’t even understand what we’re saying right now.”
“That’s what I told my mom. She thinks I need to start a swear jar, so I’ll stop dropping F-bombs all over the place.”
“You really shouldn’t swear in front of a baby.”
“I didn’t have time to practice, and hell, this whole situation is seriously fucked up.”
My nose wrinkles, and I lean forward, placing my hand on his chest again. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
Cricket exhales a tired cry, and she’s so adorably pitiful. We both get back to searching the bags, looking for anything shaped like a box of pain reliever.
“Ha-ha! It’s here!” I hold the box up like I’ve found the holy grail.
“It’s like when Baker reached out and grabbed that pass and ran it in for the final touchdown against Texas.”
I actually laugh. “That was pretty sweet.”
“You could’ve said that on the show.”
“And get booed off? I derailed a dog-pile for you, I hope you know.”
“I know.” He gives me a warm glance as he fills the dropper with pink medicine.
Cricket takes the candy-flavored medicine, but she’s still fussy.
