Page 53 of Unbound
“All right, but if we get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”
Tiptoeing across the hall, I take him into my room and push the door nearly closed so we don’t wake anyone.
Placing him on the bed, he looks around curiously like he’s taking in every detail of my room. I wonder if he’s been here before, like maybe Sophie might have brought him in a time or two. I could see her now, lying on the bed with him as he sleeps on her chest to be close to me. She always loved my room and my sleepy pillows, as she called them.
We stare at one another for a moment and I see Sophie in him right then. He may have my eyes, but when he smiles, I see her.
He yawns, his tiny mouth shaping into an O but barely enough to take the smile from his face. Reaching for my guitar beside my bed, I bring it to my lap thinking he might like music and maybe it might put him back to sleep.
The moment I have it in place, he crawls toward me. It cracks me up, but he worms himself between the guitar and my chest to sit on my lap like Nova used to do when I’d play for her.
Lyric puts both hands on the guitar and smacks it a couple of times. It makes a hollow thump and he does it again.
Carefully, I strum my fingers over the strings once to see what he’ll do with it.
Peering around the side, I want to see his face as I sing in his ear. “You should be sleeping, but you’re not. I should be sleeping, but I’m not.” There’s no rhythm to my tune but the sound of my voice excites him and he laughs, his hand reaching back to grab my lips like he’s trying to figure out how I did that.
I play a variety of tunes, trying to remain quiet but the more upbeat ones I play, he laughs and I know any minute Sophie or my mom is going to wake up.
Sure enough, I’m halfway through a rock version of the alphabet I used to play for Nova and he’s belly laughing when my door opens and hits my dresser behind it. “Oh my God, Rawley. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard him laughing and he wasn’t in his room.”
I stop, my hands flat on the strings silencing the music, and I look back at her. “Sorry. He crawled in here.”
She looks at him in just his diaper on my lap. “He did?” she whispers, eyes so earnest and bright. I want this look, always, forever.
I nod. “Yeah. I heard a noise and he was sticking his fingers under my door so I let him in.”
Sitting down on the edge of my bed, our knees touch and she reaches out to him, her arm resting on my knee. Her touch sends a jolt to my heart and my breathing speeds up. “Buddy, where’re your clothes?”
He must understand what she’s saying because he looks down at her, and then his body and then back at me. “I changed his diaper and he wouldn’t let me put them back on.” My voice is soft. I’m not sure how she’s going to react to me changing his diaper.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening in surprise. “You did?”
Lyric reaches for her so she takes him and sets him on her lap. “He was wet so….” My voice trails off watching her hold our son. I wonder then if she gets that same pain in her chest when she sees me holding him.
I stare and stare, my mouth tightening. God, do I want to hold her. We’re being stubborn in a sense, neither one of us giving up and talking about the noose around our necks. I smile weakly, my teeth finding the inside of my cheek, determined not to think about leaving her, or him.
“I should feed him,” she says distractedly, her eyes flitting around my room before coming to a standstill on me. “Want to join us?”
I smile despite the internal battle going on inside my head and set my guitar aside. “I’d like that.”
We’re in the kitchen, inches apart and I’m messing with the coffee pot I launched through the kitchen window when I was nineteen for no particular reason at all. I’m sure there was a reason, but I don’t remember. I was high at the time.
When it’s finished brewing coffee and Lyric’s in his high chair, Sophie’s beside me again, our bodies nearly touching. I pour a cup of coffee while Sophie pours creamer into hers.
“Your mom said she’d watch Lyric tonight for us.” She smiles, the weariness in her eyes seeming to lessen every day.
Nodding, I stare at the black cup in my hand. “I was thinking maybe Valentino’s.” My voice shakes around the words. “Would that be okay?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.” My chest hurts with her smile, burns even, my lungs screaming for a breath when she smiles. She wants meaning in this, in us, but I have no idea if it’s too late. Have I caused too much pain?
I hear my mom before I see her, her humming traveling around the house. She walks beside me, her hands on my shoulders seeming at ease. “So you guys are going to dinner tonight, right?”
Sophie nods. “Is that still okay?”
Mom grins and faces Lyric. “I love time with little L.”
I smile weakly, unsure what to do or say. Lyric fusses in his seat, a scowl on his face as he slaps the tray.
