Daddy In Dress Blues. Cathie Linz

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      Chapter 3

      DISMAYED AT THE direction of her thoughts and at the unexpected sting of threatening tears, Jessica mentally changed gears. This wasn’t about her or Curt, it was about Blue.

      Tugging out the yellow legal pad of paper where she’d written up her notes, she consulted the first page. “Most Daddy Boot Camps are designed for new fathers with infants,” she told him. “I’ve adapted a program to your special needs. I thought we’d cover the basics—eating, getting dressed, bathing and bedtime.”

      Startled, Blue looked out the window and practically howled, “Noooo! Not bedtime now.”

      “That’s right, it’s not bedtime now,” Jessica agreed in a soothing voice. “Let me see your beautiful clean hands.” Blue eagerly held them out for her appraisal. “Very nice.”

      “Very nice,” Blue agreed with a nod.

      “Looking good,” Curt said, tossing the dirty towel into the sink.

      “Looking good,” Blue repeated.

      “Is there any one of the areas I’ve listed that you’re particularly having trouble with?” Jessica asked Curt.

      All of them. But he wasn’t about to admit that. Instead he said, “You might as well go over all of them. But I have a few questions for you first.” Picking up a notebook of his own, he listed them in rapid-fire succession. “How often do you have fire drills? Are you trained in CPR and pediatric first aid? Is the school registered or licensed with the state?”

      She appeared to be impressed by his questions. “I see you’ve been doing some reading as I suggested.”

      “That’s right.” He hated feeling incompetent, so he’d made it a point to find out as much as he could in the past few days. A lot of what he read he considered to be psychological babble. He was a bottom-line kind of guy. But he was encouraged to read that kids needed schedules and routines. So did marines. The recruits he trained needed the discipline to follow orders.

      Having a raw recruit overcome their fear of heights enough to finally rappel down a tower gave him a feeling of accomplishment. Maybe this was Curt’s chance to overcome a fear of his own—the fear of being a parent. Overcoming fear was another big deal for a marine.

      Yeah, he liked looking at the process that way.

      “Did you hear anything I just said?” she asked him in exasperation.

      “Yes. You said you were trained in CPR and pediatric first aid, that the preschool is licensed by the state and that you have the required number of fire drills.” Learning to concentrate on more than one thing at one time was another advantage he possessed over an average dad. Another thing the marines had taught him. “Now tell me the secrets of dressing.”

      “Secrets, huh? You make it sound as if there’s only one way of accomplishing these goals. There isn’t. Sometimes it’s learning by trial and error. What I can do is give you some suggestions. First off, I’d mention that Blue here is a little girl, not a sack of potatoes.”

      “Blue is a little girl,” Blue repeated proudly. “Is not potatoes. Is not a dog.”

      “Your point being?” Curt demanded of Jessie.

      “Just that you seemed a bit uncomfortable carrying her.”

      That’s because he was a man more accustomed to carrying an M-16 rifle than a kid.

      “Show me. Please,” he added.

      “Just act naturally.”

      “Easy for you to say,” he muttered.

      “Here…” Jessica bent down to lift Blue in her arms, propping the little girl on one hip. “Like this.”

      “That’s a girly way to hold a kid,” Curt scoffed.

      She raised an eyebrow at his tone of voice. “Oh, so now you’re the expert?”

      “Here.” He took Blue from her and after an awkward moment or two, shifted his daughter so that she was perched atop his shoulders.

      “Giddeeup horsey!” Blue shrieked, digging her heels into his chest.

      “Be careful she doesn’t use your hair as the horsie’s reins,” Jessica warned him.

      “It’s not long enough,” he replied, clearly not concerned.

      He was right. But since his hair wasn’t long enough for her to take handfuls of, Blue instead grabbed hold of his ears.

      “No grabbing of ears,” he ordered, wincing slightly. “Do you read me, young lady?”

      “Yessir.” She tried to salute and in doing so almost fell off his shoulders. Lowering her, he gingerly propped her against one shoulder and held her in the crook of his left arm.

      “Gotta go potty!” Blue loudly announced, whereupon he hastily lowered her to the floor as if she were radioactive.

      “Need any help?” Jessica inquired, trying not to laugh.

      “Who are you asking, Blue or me?” Curt said.