It was an ugly September evening when we left the hospital. Lindsay and Gus had come to visit that afternoon and helped me with the discharge. All the paperwork and packing took hours. It was nearing six when we finally stepped out.
Gus kept jumping up and down trying to get a better look at his little brother, but Linz kept scolding him, telling him Patrick was sleeping.
I slid in the backseat of the Jeep surrounded by toys and flowers, before I beckoned Gus closer. “He’s asleep so let’s not wake him, okay?” I whispered.
Gus stared fascinated at Munchkin, before smiling brightly. “He’s so small.”
“Yeah, takes after Justin,” I joked. “Now, go with your mom. We’ll see you soon. I promise.”
Gus kissed my cheek soundly, then rushed to Justin and hugged him tightly, before allowing Lindsay to take him to their car. I waved to her, knowing I’d probably call her in a few hours. Better Linz than Debbie.
“Ready?” Justin got behind the wheel, turning to us.
“I’ve been ready since I woke up yesterday,” I said seriously.
“Buckle up.” He turned the engine on, the radio starting on some classical shit.
“Did you fuck with my radio?” I hissed.
“I read somewhere Beethoven works wonders on babies.”
“Change that shit or I’ll throw you out of the car.”
“Now you have something against piano music too?”
“I just don’t like it!”
Sighing loudly, Justin switched to a station where a Metallica song was playing. He nailed it, from one extreme to the other. Of course, it woke Munchkin, and Justin took it as a good sign to return to Beethoven.
“We’ll talk about this at home,” I snapped, turning my attention on calming Munchkin.
I didn’t work hard for the past month to turn him into a Stones fan for nothing. If Sunshine decided to corrupt our kid with his classical shit, I’d show him how it was done.
When we arrived home, I went upstairs to change Munchkin who’d decided to poop a stinky one.
I felt bad for leaving Justin alone to deal with all the presents we’d gotten in the hospital, but changing Munchkin was more important.
Once he had a clean diaper, I dressed him in one of his new baby suits we’d bought long ago. The onesie was made of some soft material and its pale blue color brought out the color in Patrick’s eyes. He kept watching me, mostly staring at my mouth and eyebrows, I figured that when he flailed his arms about when I lifted an eyebrow after asking if he liked the blue suit I’d chosen for him.
When we were about to head back downstairs, Justin rushed up with a bag overflowing with plush toys.
“Here.” He handed it to me. “Can you do me a favor and check my email? I should get an email with my schedule at college.”
“Sure. What do I do with these?”
“Play with them.” He rolled his eyes. “And could you hold Munchkin with both arms?”
“One is holding his toys,” I grumbled. “Have a little faith, Doubting Thomas.”
“But…okay.” He made the universal sign on zipping his mouth.
I kissed him, before going to our room. “Sit here. Don’t go anywhere.” I placed the baby in the middle of the bed, dumped the bag of toys on the floor, and grabbed Justin’s laptop.
I booted up the laptop, then searched through the bag for some nice toy. I found a toy snake (What kind of fucked up friends do we have?), next I came up with a cat with long hair (not exactly baby friendly), when I was losing my hope for a normal newborn toy, I saw a small odd looking something. Extracting it from the bag, I nearly dropped it when it squeaked.
Munchkin whined, turning his head in the direction of the sound.
“Oh, so you like this thing?” I squeezed it again, making it squeak.
He answered me by turning to look at me and smiling.
While making sure to squeeze the toy every few seconds, I checked Justin’s emails. He had two from PIFA about his schedule and upcoming expectations of him in his last year of college.
There were also several emails from Keith and Leo. They were concerned about me.
I hit reply on the last email Keith had sent, only a short hour ago.
From: Justin Taylor
To: Keith Rogers
Date: September 25, 2005 19:35
Subject: RE: How’s Brian?
Brian’s fine =)
Thank you for your concern, I’m still alive and kicking (yeah, writing from Justin’s email). How couple-y of me.
I’m still surprised I made it out of there. Good thing too. Justin can’t even change a diaper. He fucking knotted it to the side. He claims the strap of the diaper was ripped. I call bullshit.
He told me you want to visit. If you can’t leave the club, don’t worry. We’re doing fine.
We just got home.
How are you, guys?
Brian
During my replying to Keith, I lacked in squeezing the toy, which sent Munchkin into a fit.
I quickly typed in the search engine YouTube, found a Rolling Stones playlist and hit play. He stopped crying immediately.
Wild Horses was a calm song and I hoped he still liked the other songs out as much as he liked them in.
From: Keith Rogers
To: Justin Taylor
Date: September 25, 2005 19:50
Subject: Brian!!
Brian, I’m so glad to hear you’re okay. You had everyone scared.
We’re all okay, thank you.
Actually, I’d like to come over, if not for a social visit, for a business visit. Leo’s birthday is coming in November and I had my eyes on a camera. Of course, even though we’re together for three years now, I still have no clue about his stuff. Maybe Justin could help me if he knows about photography too.
Could you ask him?
What about you? How are YOU? Aren’t you tired? I remember I used to sleep as much as Kira. Leo found it funny. I was competing with her, who slept longer.
Keith
From: Justin Taylor
To: Keith Rogers
Date: September 25, 2005 19:53
Subject: RE: Brian!!
Pshhht! Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? I made a few ads for cameras. What are you looking for? I could give a few calls and put you in contact with some friends.
I remember Nikon being a neat one, but now I’m not sure either what a photographer wants.
Me, tired? I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
Seriously, I just woke up from a fucking coma. I’m more than rested.
I can’t say the same about Munchkin. He’s a lost case to be a Stones fan. We used to listen to them when he was inside, now he doesn’t like them anymore. It’s just this stupid squeaky toy. If I have to squeeze it one more time, my brains will explode.
Any suggestions?
Brian
From: Keith Rogers
To: Justin Taylor
Date: September 25, 2005 19:58
Subject: RE: Brian!!
I’ll visit sometime next week, I think. I’ll let you know details. Let’s keep it between us (and Justin since we’re using his email)
You can’t put rock n’ roll to a newborn, Brian! They like soothing music like…Beethoven. Piano, mostly. Try that.
Instrumental music usually—no drums or electric guitars, though. Okay?
I have to go. Dinner’s ready and you know how Leo gets if I’m not there when he hollers.
Keith (luck with the first night home for Munchkin)
Beethoven? Seriously.
Fine.
I typed classical music mix in YouTube and came up with a two hour long compilation.
It soothed Munchkin, but it made me pull my hair out.
After pushing the laptop at the foot of the bed and situating Munching next to me, I stretched on my side of the bed. Since I wasn’t tired and it appeared neither was my little one, I grabbed that stupid squeaking toy and played with him until I heard Justin in the doorway.
He watched us curiously. “I was sure I was hearing things.”
I put my tongue in cheek, ignoring him.
He came closer, sitting next to me and pressing his lips to my ear. “Interesting.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I remember clearly being forbidden to listen to violin music. And here you are listening to it.”
“Thank you for not saying anything.”
He kissed my neck. “What happened to not introducing him to classical music? Look! He’s enjoying it.”
“He’s a little traitor. Did you finish unpacking?” I leaned into his chest, closing my eyes.
“Mhmm. I came up here to ask if you’re hungry.” Justin raked his fingers through my hair. “Or maybe you’re tired.”
“I think I’ll sleep a little. Can you take care of Munchkin for a few minutes? Also, take the laptop with you.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll let you sleep. Come with me, sweetie. Let’s allow daddy to rest.” He picked Munchkin, disappearing out of the room.
I fell asleep before he returned after the laptop.