Taste Test: Spring Fling

A soft breeze fluttered the sheer curtains at windows thrown wide to take full advantage of the warm, early spring day.

The room was quiet save for the distant lap of waves on sand and the scratch of pencil on paper as Casey Travis, seated on a stool at a drafting table, worked on his latest graphic novel, his bare foot tapping on the floor in time to a tune playing in his head.

A smile played around his lips as the salty scent of the ocean reached his nostrils and the breeze ruffled his dark hair.

He glanced over at the clock on the long table that held his materials and, seeing that it was just after eleven, he put down his pencil and got up to get some coffee.

A sudden banging on the front door, loud and intrusive in the formerly peaceful atmosphere, made Casey jump, his arm jerking in surprise, knocking over a pot of pencils. He looked at the pencils scattered over the floor, considered picking them up, but another serious of urgent raps on the door had him moving swiftly along the hallway. He pulled the door open with a frown and stared in confusion at the sight before him.

Josh Ballard, best friend since their college days, focus of Casey's hottest fantasies, stood on the other side of the threshold, normally neat hair standing out in several different directions, clad not in one of his usual thousand-dollar suits but in a baggy tee-shirt, pajama pants, and untied sneakers, a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder, a teddy bear-patterned bag over the other, and holding a baby awkwardly in his arms.

Casey looked from Josh to the baby -- happily chewing on the collar of Josh's tee-shirt -- and back again.

His friend looked like something the cat had dragged in. Casey felt a smile tug at one corner of his mouth.

"What did you do?"

Josh just gave him a pathetic kicked-puppy look. "Help?"

Snorting in amusement, Casey stepped to the side and motioned for Josh to enter. As Josh stumbled past, struggling under the weight of his burdens, a putrid smell reached Casey's nose.

He stepped back automatically. "Jesus, man, when was the last time you had a shower?"

Josh threw a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder. "You're a funny guy, Travis. The kid's diaper is heavier than he is. I think it might actually be a bio-hazard."

With a grimace of distaste, Casey closed the door and followed Josh to the living room at a safe distance.

Josh dumped his bags on the floor by the sofa and laid the baby down on the rug in front of the fireplace, kneeling beside it. He grabbed the baby bag, dragged it closer, and looked apologetically at Casey.

"You might want to leave for a few minutes. This could get ugly."

Hovering just inside the doorway, Casey seriously considered taking his friend's advice, but decided to stay. Josh had the look of a man in desperate need of moral support.

"Nah, I'm good." But he made no move to get closer to the action.

Josh just nodded. Taking a deep breath and a diaper and pack of baby wipes from the bag, he flexed his fingers -- as if psyching himself for the task ahead -- and reached for the tabs on the diaper the baby was wearing.

Casey found himself holding his breath as Josh tore the tabs open and pulled the front of the diaper down.

"Hey, it's a boy." Casey remarked, but as Josh peeled the diaper further, Casey's eyes widened and his hand flew automatically to cover his nose. "Dear God. You know you're not supposed to give dog food to kids, right?"