Pax

One Very Long Week Later

Blinking my tired, burning eyes as I made my eighteenth lap around the room, I was only certain of one thing in the world.

The experts all had it wrong.  The solution to war wasn’t germ warfare. 

It was the sound of a furiously crying baby.  Particularly my crying baby.

Yes, if our enemies were forced to listen to the sound currently emanating from the shrieking child in my arms for twenty-four hours a day, they’d lose all hope for victory within a week.

God knows, I had.

At this point, I was pretty certain I was the biggest failure on the planet since for the past seven days, I couldn’t figure out a single way to appease the angry infant I held.

In fact, at this point, I’d make a deal with any devil, foreign or domestic, if they’d just tell me how to make Liberty stop sobbing for five uninterrupted minutes!

I needed some peace and quiet.

Followed by the hottest shower known to man.

Capped off by about thirty-six hours of deep sleep. 

But most of all, I needed just one more sweet cherry kiss from Truly.

I missed those kisses.   I missed her.

But she’d wanted time.

And she’d taken the entire fucking week.

Approximately the same amount of time little Liberty had been unhappy and cranky.

Seven damned days was just way too long for a lot of things.

Like listening to unhappy infants and going without sleep, showers, or sweet cherry kisses.

“C’mon, sweetness,” I tried to soothe the squalling infant as I continued to pace back and forth in the living room of our new house.  “Just relax and try to go to sleep for me, precious.  Daddy Pax needs a teeny tiny time out and a great big glass of scotch.”

My pleas were only met with the much louder screams of my wailing new daughter.  Man, this fatherhood gig was a challenge.  I’d confronted Taliban soldiers that were less scary than my kid during a tantrum.

Adjusting Liberty against my bare chest, I rubbed my hands in circles against her back.  Sometimes, I got lucky and that soothed her enough to drop off for a few quick minutes – long enough for me to at least take a piss, I thought with a longing look toward the bathroom. 

And just when I thought my luck was finally turning so that I could finally relieve myself of the nine cups of coffee I’d chugged in order to keep my own eyes open as Liberty’s wails were replaced by a few sporadic unhappy grunts, the doorbell rang.  As if someone had blown a bullhorn next to her little ear, Liberty’s formerly drowsy eyes popped open.  Now fully alert and beyond pissed to be awoken so abruptly, her screams began in earnest once more, shriller and somehow impossibly more intense.  Stomping toward the door as I pressed my lips against the soft hair crowning my girl’s head, I promised myself that whoever was on the other side of my threshold would be sorry they’d ever disturbed us tonight.

Yanking open the door, I barked a crisp “What?” in a tone that usually made privates scurry for the nearest cover they could find.  Seeing my former boss standing on the other side of my front door holding his stepdaughter’s tiny hand in his, I could only grimace.  I considered Cormac Fletcher, or Fletch as all the guys called him, to be a good friend with a cute wife and even cuter kid, but right now, his timing stank.  “What the hell are you doing here?” I growled, shifting Liberty in my arms as she continued to complain.  Loudly.

“Is that any way to greet one of your best buds?” Fletch asked with a grin as he walked past me into the foyer, his small daughter following behind him.

“Hi, Uncle Pax,” she grinned up at me, reaching up to touch Liberty’s little bare foot.  “Hey, baby,” she greeted the child in my arms.

“Hey, Annie,” I greeted the little girl.  “How ya doin’, sweetheart?”

“My mommy’s almost ready to pop, and Daddy and I need some cover.  Daddy says you gots to hide us out,” she announced gravely.

“The kid isn’t lyin’.” Fletch chuckled.  “Besides, I brought the Budweiser, and the game starts in fifteen,” he declared, holding up two six packs of beer as he strutted past me into my galley style kitchen.  “You did say you wanted to watch it over here, didn’t you?” he asked over his shoulder as he jerked open the stainless steel door to my fridge.

Closing my eyes, I winced.  I had made plans to watch tonight’s game at my new place with Fletch earlier this week.  At the time, he’d been looking for a hideout from his pregnant wife, Emily.  The woman had reached the end stages of her pregnancy and was currently cleaning anything that wasn’t nailed down.  According to Fletch, the nesting instinct was a bitch and Emily had it in spades.  Since Emily had declared this weekend the perfect time to put the finishing touches on their unborn child’s nursery and Fletch had wanted NO part of that madness, he’d suggested we spend this evening watching the game.  He’d agreed to bring the beer if I’d offer my new house as sanctuary for him and Annie to crash.  He and Annie would get a night of major league baseball, junk food and relative peace but still remain close enough to home to quickly get to his expectant wife if he was needed.  Meanwhile, I’d be able to pay Fletch back for helping me move in my furniture and get in some male bonding time with adult conversation.  At the time it had seemed like the perfect plan.  After spending my second week at home getting Liberty settled, I’d been almost desperate for adult company.

Now, though, all I wanted was for my kid to get a restful night’s sleep and maybe – just maybe – claim a few hours shuteye of my own.

“I take it that things on the home front are still pretty chaotic?” he asked, his eyes darting around my messy kitchen.  House cleaning wasn’t exactly a priority of the sleep deprived and the stacks of dirty dishes I had in the sink were probably enough to clue him in that I wasn’t exactly at my best these days.

“Yep,” I replied succinctly, handing Annie a bag of Cheetos before pointing her toward my leather sofa.

“Still no word from Liberty?” Fletch questioned as he plucked two longnecks from one of the six packs he’d brought before following me into the living room.

“Nothin’ but radio silence,” I grumbled, collapsing into my navy blue recliner and settling Liberty against my chest.  “I know she said she needed some time, but I honestly thought I’d hear something from her.  I went by her house a couple of times, but she’s not been home.  When I went by the commissary and asked her manager if she was scheduled to work anytime soon, they said she’d taken a couple days’ vacation time.” 

“She probably took off somewhere to get her head straight.  You can’t deny you dumped a shitload of drama at her doorstep, man.  I mean, learning her dead asshat of a husband knocked up some other chick would be bad enough, but learning that chick went and died?  Leaving HER custody of an infant barely old enough to hold her head up?  Yeah, I can see why she needed a beat,” Fletch returned, catching the remote I tossed toward him in mid-air.

“Don’t forget the fact that I fuc – I mean, messed up,” I amended quickly, darting my eyes toward Annie.

Pausing in the act of cramming an orange Cheeto in her mouth, Annie grinned at me.  “Awwww….. you almost said the F word!  If you say it, you owe me $5.  Mommy’s rules,” she warned with sparkling eyes.

“Jeez!” I hissed dramatically, my eyes widening dramatically.  “The swear fee has gone up since I was a kid. It only used to be a quarter per bad word.  Fifty cents for the really bad ones.”

“Daddy says that, too.” Annie nodded.  “Mommy says its in-in-“

“Inflation,” Fletch supplied with a smile, ruffling Annie’s hair.  “But remember, this is Uncle Pax’s house.  His house, his rules.  He can say what he wants in his own house.”

Annie’s jaw dropped.  “Even the F word?” 

Chuckling, I shook my head.  “No, it’s probably better the f word is a no-go, here, too.  I don’t want this little lady picking up on those kind of swears either,” I remarked, shifting a cranky Liberty on my chest. 

Beaming, Annie nodded emphatically.  “Good plan, Uncle Pax.”

Laughing at the exuberant child’s theatrics, I gave her a high five as I said, “Thanks for keeping me honest, Annie.”

“No problem,” the child murmured before being distracted by some commercial with a dancing puppy on television.

“Anyway,” I said, looking back at Fletch.  “Back to our conversation about Tru….It probably didn’t help that I dumped how I felt about her on her plate, too.  I know I should have held my peace, but I just wanted her to know she wasn’t facing this alone, you know?  I never expected her to vanish, though, Fletch,” I muttered, disgusted with myself for being so impatient.

“Yeah, I was thinking it.  Wasn’t gonna actually say it though,” Fletch offered with a low chuckle.  “I’m betting she just needed a little time to absorb everything, man.  You gotta admit; it was a lot to take in.”  

Snorting, I rolled my eyes to look at the vaulted ceiling.  “I guess,” I returned.  “I swear, Fletch, if Yancy was still here, I’d kill him myself for all the trouble he caused.”  I chose to see Liberty’s high pitched crying as her voicing her support.

“Personally, I never cared for the guy, but I’ve always liked Truly.  She was one of the first wives to make Emily and Annie feel welcome here.  If there’s anything we can do to help you guys, it goes without saying that we’re there,” Fletch offered, frowning as Liberty began crying again, her tiny hand pulling at her ear as she shrieked.

“Man, how long has she been like this?” he asked, nodding toward the restless baby squirming in my lap.

Pursing my lips, I looked down at the infant I held, noting her flushed skin and brightened eyes.  “She’s been irritable the last couple of days, but today has been the worst.  She’s not sleeping and she’s been fighting taking the bottle.”

“She looks like she might be feverish,” Fletch noted, his brow puckering with worry. 

Laying my hand against Liberty’s brow, my stomach sank as I felt the too-warm skin against my fingertips.  “Now that you mention it, I think she might be.  She’s definitely a lot warmer than she was this morning.

“Kids’ fevers go up at night.  Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way with this one,” Fletch returned as he jerked his head toward Annie.

Curling her nose, Annie eyed the baby critically.  “Fevers are yucky,” she pronounced.  “Her needs the grape bubble gum med’cine, Daddy.  Go gets her some.”

Shooting a confused look at Fletch, I reminded myself not to panic.  Losing the tenuous grasp I had on my shit wouldn’t help Liberty.  The important thing was getting her what she needed.  And currently, the only one offering any solutions was a five year old.   “Grape medicine?” I echoed.

“She means Tylenol,” Fletch clarified leaning forward on the couch so that he, too, could lay his hand across Liberty’s forehead as my doorbell rang again. 

“Shit, that’s the door,” I cursed as I began to rise from my chair.

“That’s another five dollars, Uncle Pax,” Annie chirped helpfully.

“I got it, man.”  Fletch waved me back down as he loped toward my front door.  Looking back down at a red-faced Liberty, I clenched my jaw.   Damn, how could I have missed a fever in my own kid?  I hadn’t put her down for a whole day.  Why hadn’t I noticed that she was getting warmer?

Between the wails of my young daughter’s bawling and the newest commercial blaring on the television, I barely noticed the sound of an additional voice in the room as I continued to contemplate what to do next.  Did I call a doctor?  Hit up the ER?  Wait it out?  What?  Growing more desperate with every passing second, I finally looked up and found myself staring into those gorgeous caramel-colored eyes that had already captured my heart.

“Truly!” I almost yelped, jerking in my seat and earning myself a shrill scream from Liberty who took that moment to voice her displeasure once again, sinking her little fingernails deep into my chest while she continued to writhe in my arms.   Wincing as I helped her find a more comfortable position, I tried to smile as I stood up.  “You came back.”

Truly met my smile with a pretty weak one of her own.  “I’m here.  I’m sorry I didn’t call first, but my car just kind of drove itself here.”  Her eyes trailed to where Liberty was once again rubbing her ear.  “I think I might have arrived in the nick of time, too.  Especially since it sounds like this little girl has an ear infection.  What are we gonna do about that, huh, Miss Liberty?” she asked the baby softly, reaching out to stroke the crying infant’s head. 

Ear infection?  Damn.  It was official. I was the world’s worst father at that moment.  How could I have missed that, too?  “Oh, sh…I mean, crap monkeys,” I croaked, glancing down at Liberty’s red face.  

“Monkey’s don’t crap, Uncle Pax.  They make poo poo,” Annie informed me, her little girl voice oddly put out with me.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I apologized distractedly before pulling my eyes from a mildly amused looking Truly to look down at the fussing kid in my arms.  “Baby girl, Daddy’s gonna figure out how to make this better just as soon as….Wait a second!”  Suddenly, my stressed out brain switched into first gear as I realized that I had missed something momentous in the last few seconds.  “Did you say “we”?  As in, you and me?” I asked, motioning a finger between us.