“Wow!” was all I could say. My bed looked so inviting. “Let's get CJ to bed. It's been too much for me. I think a nap is needed.” I yawned.
“Sure. I'll go move the boxes.”
As she headed off to CJ's room at the end of the hall, I looked once more around the room, spying the boxes. A task for another day. And I left the room.
“Layla, I'm coming,” I called as loud as I dared with CJ still asleep in my arms. I stopped short just inside his room. Instead of finding a white crib set up in the middle of the room with a few boxes scattered around, I walked into a fully set up and decorated nursery. A rocking chair sat by the window with a little table next to it. There was a bookshelf opposite the window with some knickknacks and books set up. The bear from Dale and Isaac was sitting in a little nook with a few other stuffed animals. The crib had been moved to the wall parallel to the window with a new matching changing table and dresser next to it. There were pictures up and the letters CJ in green camo on the wall where the door was. A little table and chair set was set on the other wall. It was better than I could have ever hoped for.
“Layla…”
She came over, gently took CJ and placed him in his crib.
“I told you we wanted a fresh start for you where you could focus on CJ and you.”
“But this had to take forever. And I was only gone three days. How did you manage this?”
“Well, it didn't take forever, but it did take an army. Isaac got the guys together, like I said, and I got some of the ladies together and we managed to give you the baby shower you didn't want.” She winked at me. “We love you, Jo. And we are here for you.”
She squeezed me. “Now let's get you to bed. So you have a chance to rest before CJ wakes.” She led me back to my room.
Chapter 21
The next several weeks were spent in a blur for me and CJ as I tried to figure out the whole mother-son thing. Sleep was as precious as gold. Between feedings and diaper changes and the endless loads of laundry and walks to settle CJ, I tried to rest when I could, but also tried to maintain the apartment.
I had moved the boxes in the corner of my room to my closet, which looked like someone had torn through in a moment of pure panic or mania. Boxes half-filled, clothes strewn here and there. All in all, it was a helter skelter mess.
“Tomorrow,” I would say and turn out the light. But tomorrow brought a look of unease and tomorrow was whispered again and again.
*********
One Saturday in June, Layla stopped by and announced she was kidnapping her nephew for the day. I just looked at her.
“Seriously. I'm taking CJ out for an auntie and CJ day. Let's get him packed. And before you say anything, no, you can't come.” She stuck her tongue out at me when I put my hands on my hips.
Dropping my hands, I said, “Fine, I was just going to go check on him and see if he was up from his morning nap.” I walked off.
“Perfect!” The excitement eked out of her voice.
She got CJ changed while I packed his diaper bag. He giggled at something Layla did. She loved him and he adored his auntie. If truth be told, I was grateful.
“So what am I supposed to do while y'all are partying and painting the town?”
“Whatever you want. Take a bubble bath, relax, veg out. Whatever. Turn on your eighties music and rock out.”
My 80s music. It had been months since I listened to anything. Not since that day. In fact, I hadn't played anything on my Alexa since. It sat there in my room waiting to answer my request.
“His bag ready?” Layla called out, disturbing my thoughts.
“Yep. Here you go. You sure about this? I can be ready in 10.” I kissed CJ's head.
“I'm sure. No mama allowed.”
With that, they headed out the door for the afternoon adventure leaving me alone.
“Alexa, play soft ballads from the 80s,” I stated as I sat on the floor in the middle of my master closet. I was surrounded by the daunting task of spring cleaning. I hated spring cleaning. It never seemed to end. I always have way more crap to get rid of than I expect. Talk about anxiety, I have to psyche myself up for like a week before I even get started. You would think by now, I wouldn’t have an issue, but I do.
Alexa began playing Guns ‘n Roses as I continued to sit and stare blankly at the junk piled up. Pulling my knees up and resting my head on them I just listened as Axl Rose belted out the words to “Sweet Child O’ Mine”.
Taking a deep breath, I hear the words, “Sweet child,
Sweet child of mine,” finishing the song.
“Well, this crap won’t clear itself out. Might as well as get to it.”
I stood up and started with the top shelf. I pulled down an old shoe box full to the brim of pictures and trinkets. The lid was just sitting on top, not even properly on because it was so full. Just as I was lifting the top, Bon Jovi comes on with “Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano…” and I see a picture of me laughing and instantly I am transported back to The Screaming Eagle bar. The memories from the moment I first saw him to the last played like a movie
