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“I feel good. I slept most of the night except when you were singing to CJ. Why didn’t I hear him cry?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t sing to CJ last night.”
My body tenses. “I heard you. I woke up and heard you singing to him. unless I dreamed it, but it felt so real.”
“I didn’t get up last night.”
“That’s weird. I swear, I heard you.”
I jump out of bed because it’s been hours since CJ was changed, and I don’t want him sitting in a soiled diaper. And checking on him would give me peace of mind. Plus, he must be starving. I hurry to his bedroom and find him in his crib, playing with a stuffed animal. A surge of frustration hits me; I told Chase not to give him toys.
Surprisingly, CJ is not that wet. In fact, he barely went at all. Still, I put on a fresh diaper in case and clean him with some baby wipes. Then I dress him in a cute set that has sports balls all over them, and then it’s off to the kitchen for some breakfast.
Chase is already there, whipping up a bowl with pancake batter. I busy myself with taking care of feeding CJ while Chase cooks us food. When I’m finished with our son, I place him on the floor with some blocks that I brought along.
“Hey, did you give CJ a stuffed animal before you came to bed last night?”
“No. I just peeked in to see if he was alright. Why?”
“He had a toy in his crib this morning.”
“Was it in there when you put him down last night?”
“Maybe it was, and I just didn’t see it.”
A shiver runs through me. First, a man singing on the baby monitor, and now this? It could be my imagination, but I don’t feel comfortable trusting that idea. But who would break into someone’s home, sing to their child, give them a toy, and then disappear? It has to be my mind playing tricks on me. I was very tired last night.
“Megan? Is something wrong?”
I shake my head a little because I realize that I’m staring off into space.
“I think you were so exhausted that your mind was playing tricks on you.”
“It’s possible,” I trail off.
He places a plate of pancakes in front of me, and my mind is cleared of anything, but I need to eat.
“So, what would you like to do today?” Chase asks.
“I have my heart set on the beach. The weather said it’s going to be eighty-two today, so I want to get some sun.”
“I’m not much for sitting in the sun. I could sit on the deck with CJ. The awning will protect him. Would you mind?”
“No. I’m not going to be doing anything but sunning myself anyway.”
“Works for me. I won’t be far away. If you need me, call.”
After I finish breakfast, I run upstairs and put on my white bikini. I bought it last summer but never got a chance to wear it. Before I come down, I slather myself with suntan lotion and smell like a Pina Colada when I re-enter the kitchen.
“Wow! That is some bikini!” Chase exclaims. “I’m glad we have a private beach.”
“I bought it last summer. Do you like it?”
“I like it very much, but promise me you won’t wear it to a public beach.”
“That’s negotiable,” I offer with a chuckle.
Chase smiles at me and hands over CJ. He tells me he wants to set up a playpen he has in the closet. That way, he won’t have to worry that CJ will get splinters sitting on the deck floor. Once he has it done, he unfurls the awning with a push of a button on the inside wall near the French doors. It steadily covers half the deck.
