Page 52 of Unbound
Every morning since I’ve been home, I wake up in my old room in a familiar blue-dawn glow. I stare at my ceiling and see how different I am here rather in Seattle.
I glance at my phone on the nightstand. It’s four in the morning yet I’m wide-awake, watching the night give way to dawn, stars replaced with diluted pink glow that reflects the bright orange and red of the tree outside my window.
Back in the city I’d wake up next to some chick I didn’t know and roll out of bed around two in the afternoon for rehearsal at four.
Here, I’m falling asleep early and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to stare at my fucking ceiling. Lately, I have no desire for drugs or other women and I’ve had maybe four beers since I’ve been back. I have no idea what the fuck happened, or what’s going on with me.
Maybe that’s why I’m staring at a gray ceiling hoping for answers.
There’s a noise at my door, a scratching sound.
Turning my head, I see tiny little fingers slipping under the door between the wood and carpet.
Chuckling, I slide out of bed, throw on a pair of sweat pants and crawl over to the door. Tentatively I stick my finger under the door and touch his. I know it’s him because when he touches my finger, it’s wet with drool. And there’s no other babies in the house at four in the morning.
I wiggle two fingers on the other side and he laughs lightly, but it’s there. He thinks I’m funny and tries to grab my fingers.
Carefully, I crack the door open to see him sitting up, smiling at me.
“How’d you get out of your crib, buddy?”
Bright eyes too wide for 4:00 a.m. stare back at me, but he’s still smiling.
Picking him up, I carry him to his room across the hall and peek inside Sophie’s room. Her door is slightly open so she can hear Lyric, but she’s out cold, sprawled out with half the blankets on her and half on the floor. She always slept crazy. Think kidney punches and knees in the balls about a half a dozen times.
Smiling at the sight of her, I run my lips over Lyric’s forehead, holding him close. “Mommy must be tired.”
He smiles, grabbing a handful of my hair.
Walking inside his room, I place him in his crib only to have him frown at me and hold his arms up. I back up a step to see what he’ll do and his bottom lip jets out immediately as tears surface.
Oh God, no.
I don’t want him to cry. That will wake Sophie and Mom up.
I snatch him up out of his crib and notice his diaper is pretty full.
“Are you wet, buddy?”
Naturally he doesn’t say anything but smile and bounce himself in my arms. There’s a changing table beside his crib with diapers. Debating whether I should change him or not, there’s a moment when I wonder if she’d get mad if I did. I know how, but would she want me doing that?
Staring down at him, I decide I’ll just change him and then put him back in his crib.
Laying him down on the changing table, I keep one hand on his stomach and reach for a diaper. “Here’s the deal, little guy.” He kicks his legs at the sound of my hushed voice. I attempt to undo the buttons of his pajamas but he never stops moving and I have to keep both hands on him so he doesn’t roll off the table. “I’ve changed a diaper before… but it’s beena while,” I admit.
Again, he smiles as if I’m telling him he can have anything he wants in life.
I chuckle. I’ve never seen such a happy kid. I’ll probably give him anything he wants in life. Now I know why my brother’s such a fuckin’ push over with Nova.
I manage to get his pajamas off and the diaper on but once I try to put his pajamas back on, that’s where he draws the line and stiffens his arms and legs likego ahead, try it now, Dad.
“Okay, so no clothes. Got it.”
Picking him back up, I try to put him back in the crib only to have the tears surface again.
“You’re playin’ me right now, aren’t you?”
He grins wider.
