Baby Talk

Mommy went bye-bye?”

Annie turned towards Neal, her black eyebrows furrowed together.

“What’s the matter with you? She could have fallen on the floor!”

“I...she...” was all Neal could manage to say. He ran his hand uncertainly through his sleep-corkscrewed hair, debating whether or not to tell Annie what had happened. But he decided against it—he was sure she wouldn’t believe him.

He pulled a mug from the cupboard and prepared his instant coffee, then sat down in one of their flimsy, vinyl-covered dinette chairs. It squeaked as he did so.

“Well, Neal?” Annie said. “I’m waiting for an explanation. Why did you leave her on the counter?”

Neal did not answer.

Annie made a growl in her throat. “You know better than that. She could fall on the floor and break her neck, or some other bones. Babies have extremely delicate bones, and even the smallest fall can result in a fracture—my books say so. If you’re not careful, she could easily break...”

Neal gazed down at his cup, no longer listening to his 19 year old wife. Some of the instant coffee hadn’t dissolved. He watched the brown grains swirl around and around, like Annie’s lecture.

“She talked,” Neal interrupted, at no point in particular.

Annie’s mouth was still open, mid-sentence. She closed it and stared blankly at Neal. “She what?”

“She talked, Annie.”

Annie glanced down at Natasha, then back at her young husband.

“I know it sounds strange,” he said, “but it’s true.”

Even though such a notion was crazy, Neal could tell she at least wanted to believe him. He knew that some part of Annie was convinced she had given birth to the next Messiah, or, at the very least, a child prodigy who would grow up and change the world. He supposed all mothers held such hopes.

“You mean, ‘ga-ga, goo-goo’?” Annie asked.

“No. I mean words. Real words, Annie.”

She laughed. “I hate to tell you this, Neal, but five month old babies can’t talk.”

“I know.” Neal took another sip of the lousy instant coffee, wishing he had spiked it with a shot or two of whiskey.

Annie watched him for a moment, then apparently decided maybe it wasn’t such a far-fetched notion after all.

“What did she say?” Annie said, with hushed excitement. “What words, exactly?”

Neal let out a laugh, but it sputtered to an uncertain halt. “I love you.”

Annie’s face went slack. “‘I love you?’”

“Yeah.”

Annie let out a cackle that sent chills up Neal’s spine. She looked down at Natasha. “Did ooo tell Daddy that ooo wuv him?”

The baby looked back up at her mother with a vacant expression.

Neal took another sip of his coffee and stared at the floor. He felt like a fool. Over the past few months, he had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Cradling Natasha in one arm, Annie open the formula she had bought and began to heat it on the stove. “You need to stop daydreaming, Neal, and get your mind back on your work.” There was a nasty undertone in her voice, one he had not known before they had gotten married. Or had been forced to get married. Neal certainly would not have married Annie under his own free will.