David’s knuckles were white against the strap of the blue diaper bag, and he had not yet let go of the doorframe. It was only two o’clock on a Saturday, but his face looked entirely hollowed out by the grey autumn light of Columbus.
“We have to be back at the office by five,” David said, his voice rising to a thin, nervous pitch. He checked his watch for the third time in two minutes, his eyes darting toward the street.
“Take your time,” I said. “He is in safe hands.”
I reached for the baby, but Clara held him a second too long, her fingers twisting her wedding ring around and around. Her eyes were dark with a deep, silent fatigue that went far deeper than simple missed sleep.
“The bottles are pre-measured,” Clara said, her voice soft but clipped. “Only use the distilled water from the blue pitcher.”
“I managed to raise you without distilled water, David,” I said, trying to soften the air between us.
“That was thirty years ago, Dad,” David said, his eyes scanning my small apartment with a cold, critical sweep. He set the blue diaper bag on my worn green armchair with a force that seemed entirely unnecessary. “Things are different now. The gear, the standards. Everything costs more because it has to be safe, and we have to buy the best.”
I pulled my pocket handkerchief from my trousers and began to polish my glasses, focusing on the small smudge near the rim. My son was defensive about every plastic container and organic label in his house, as if my home were a hazard to his son’s survival.
“I bought the premium brand of wipes you asked for,” I said, pointing toward the hallway. “They are in the bathroom.”
Clara carried the baby into the kitchen, her shoulders hunched. I followed her to help organize the supplies, leaving David to pace the narrow hardwood floor of my living room.
On the kitchen counter, Clara unzipped her leather purse to find her keys, and a small, crumpled slip of paper tumbled out onto the cold linoleum. It was a receipt from an unverified online liquidator, listing a bulk purchase of cheap diapers for twelve dollars.
