"’Fraid so." She nodded and walked over to the far counter in my kitchen and grabbed a notepad and pen. "They're pushing through his gums, and it's gonna be painful." After a few minutes, she handed me a scribbled list.
“What’s this?”
“The stuff you’ll need if you ever want to sleep again for the next few months.”
I scanned the list. Unbelievable. With all of the free baby crap I was given in the last week, I didn’t have one thing from this list.
“Can I get all this stuff at Rite Aid?” It was the only place I could think of that would be open now. She nodded. “Should I go now? I’d have to get him dressed. I’d have to get dressed.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep an eye on…” She raised her eyebrows at me.
“Oh, CJ.”
“CJ?”
"It stands for Cole Jr. My dad gave him that name because we look so much alike." I shrugged.
“Okay, well, CJ and I will be right here when you get back.”
I ran to the Rite Aid on 125thStreet, clutching the list in one hand. I ran up to the first person I saw in a blue vest with a nametag.
"Hi. I need infant Tylenol, Orajel for babies, baby washcloths, and teething rings?"
"Aisle eight, on the left-hand side for the washcloths, Orajel, and teething rings, and aisle six for baby Tylenol."
“Okay.” I nodded. “Thanks.”
"How old is the baby?" She seemed like a very nice person, and it probably gets very boring working the late shift in a deserted drug store, but I was in a hurry.
"He's seventeen months," I answered, edging toward the center of the store.
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded. “That’s when it gets bad. Your wife sent you out for reinforcements?” She chuckled.
"Um, no, not exactly."
"Oh, okay. Well. You let me know if you need any help."
I froze on the spot. At that moment, I realized that I had left CJ with a virtual stranger that probably hated me. What kind of person just shows up at someone's house in the middle of the night to take care of their baby? And she was way too comfortable in my kitchen. What the hell was I thinking?
I raced down the aisles, determined to get everything I needed, and get back to CJ as soon as I could. My anxiety increased because there were at least five varieties of everything on that list. I grabbed one of everything and dumped the basket in front of the cashier, who eyed my mountain of teething gel, toys, and baby Tylenol before muttering under her breath, "Typical."
My chest was heaving when I kicked the door closed and tossed the bags on the couch. CJ and Lisa were no longer in the kitchen. Fuck. I called CJ's name and then, remembering he couldn't talk, called Lisa's name instead.
“Shhhhh,” she answered in a loud whisper from the second floor. “We’re up here.”
I followed the sound of her voice, taking the stairs two at a time. She was in CJ's room, leaning over his crib, watching him sleep. He was actually sleeping in his crib at night. He wasn't in his stroller or draped across my chest.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “How did you do that?”
She let out a soft chuckle that made my chest warm. "I think the ice did most of the work. I just rocked him a little, sang a couple songs, and he was out." She shrugged like she hadn't just performed a miracle.
"Thanks," I said. Lisa lifted one shoulder and let it drop with a little smile.
Damn.
lisa
five
