Lynne had eventually kicked him out. Reluctantly, he had come home, feeling strangely empty and at a loss for what to do. Laurene was fussing, so he fixed a bottle of formula and settled down on the couch to feed her. She spit out the bottle's nipple twice before finally accepting the foreign taste of the formula, and drinking hungrily. When she had finished, Jim changed her diaper and put her down for a nap in her crib.
Once the baby was settled, Jim paced around the loft, nervous energy still not completely dissipated from the stress-inducing day. He found himself in front of Blair's old bedroom, which had become a catch-all storage room for the anthropologist since he moved upstairs to sleep. The thought entered his mind that the tiny room would make an excellent nursery. So far, Laurene's crib had been rolled around the downstairs area during the day, to wherever it was most convenient at the time, and she spent her nights in bed between her daddies, making late night feedings much easier on Blair. She needed a room of her own.
Taking a deep breath, Jim dove into the mess, stacking and organizing. A trip to the basement storage area produced boxes, which Jim quickly filled. Leaving the books and pictures intact, as well as some of Blair's ornamental wall hangings, he efficiently boxed and cleaned the contents of the room. Even the futon was dragged out. Next time Simon came over, he could help Jim get the bed into the basement.
Suddenly overcome with exhaustion from the stress of a long day, he flopped down on the futon and closed his eyes. Blair's scent still lightly permeated the bedding. Pulling a brightly colored Peruvian blanket around himself, he fell asleep.
He awoke, several hours later, to the lusty wailing of their daughter. He climbed out of the warmth of his cocoon, loath to leave the reminder of his love, in order to attend to her. Once Laurene was comfortable again, he took her upstairs to the bed, cuddling her tiny body against his chest.
His night's sleep was interrupted with regularity, and when morning finally arrived, Jim arose, less than rested and feeling Blair's absence deeply.
A quick shower and shave freshened him, but did nothing to cheer his mood. With no appetite for breakfast, he wandered back over to the newly created nursery. He looked the room over critically before making a decision. Marching out the front door, he walked over to apartment 306 across and down the hall. Mrs. McGinty, a gray-haired, grandmotherly woman, opened to his knock.
"Oh, Detective Ellison. How good to see you! How's Blair and that sweet little baby of yours?"
"Blair's in the hospital," he started to explain. Mrs. McGinty clucked her tongue and looked saddened. "He had a complication from giving birth, but he's going to be okay. It's a little dicey right now, but his doctor is confident everything's going to be fine."
"I'm so glad to hear that," the woman exclaimed. "Would you like to come in?"
"No, actually, I was hoping I could convince you to come over and watch Laurene for a few minutes. I need to go to the hardware store."
"Oh, I'd be more than happy to help." She shuffled out into the hallway, pulling her door shut behind her. "That baby of yours is such a sweet thing. Nary a peep out of her."
Jim grinned, knowing the old woman was hard of hearing. "Yeah, she's pretty well-behaved for a newborn," he agreed. He opened the door to 307 and ushered Mrs. McGinty in. "She's sleeping right now. Feel free to watch TV or something. I shouldn't be long."
"No problem, young man. Take your time." She walked over to the crib and smiled sweetly at the tiny baby nestled in her blankets.
Jim waved good-bye and headed out to the truck. Fifteen minutes later he was at the hardware store, in the paint section. After much indecision, he finally picked out two gallons of a pale mint green and a roll of wallpaper edging. Loading his purchases into the truck, he made his way back to the loft.
When he arrived home, the smell of baking wafted into the hallway. Opening the door, the sweet scent of chocolate hit his sinuses and palate at the same time. "Whoa! Mrs. McGinty, what are you up to?"
"You boys didn't have a single sweet in the house, except for fruit. I thought you might enjoy some of my chocolate chip cookies." She smiled up from the batch she was transferring to the cooling racks.
"Um, yeah. That's great, thanks." Jim's mouth watered. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Oh, I wanted to, believe me," the old woman said, continuing her cookie assembly line.
"Well, okay then," Jim agreed. "It won't bother you if I paint?"
"Not at all. Not at all," she said, ignoring the detective in favor of the next batch of cookies.
Jim entered the small room again, knowing he needed to take things off the walls now. He piled everything just outside the room, found his drop cloths and prepared the windows and baseboards for painting.
By the time he had finished, Mrs. McGinty had cleaned up and gone home, leaving a huge container of fresh cookies behind. Jim cleaned himself up, just as Laurene woke up crying.
Going over to the crib, the sweet scent of chocolate was quickly replaced by something less pleasant. "Geez, Blair," he muttered, "why aren't you here to do this?" He tried dialing down his sense of smell, but it didn't help much. He placed Laurene on the diapering table and peeled back the Velcro tabs of the diaper to reveal the stinky mess.
Holding two tiny ankles together with one large hand, he lifted the baby's butt out of the primordial slime of the diaper. One-handedly, he rolled and pitched it, knowing he would have to empty the garbage tonight if he was ever going to get any sleep. Fresh paint had nothing on the smell of a dirty diaper. He took a towelette and wiped down the dirty bottom, finding some relief. Actually, when he thought about it, Laurene hadn't had a bath since Blair had gotten sick.
He wrapped his daughter loosely in a new diaper and placed her back into her crib. Going over to the sink, he got out the dishpan they used as a bathtub and began to run warm water into it. Gathering his supplies, he finally went to grab the object of all the preparations.
He lowered Laurene into the warm water, splashing some up her tiny chest, wetting her down thoroughly. Using a mild baby shampoo, he washed the copious reddish curls, gently massaging her scalp, then used some of the lather to cleanse her body.
Laurene endured the bath in stoic silence. Jim rinsed her off, then lifted her from the water, cocooning her in fluffy white towels.
Once the baby was dried and dressed, Jim warmed a bottle of formula and settled down in front of the TV for a feeding. There was a Jags game on, but somehow the remote tuned to the Learning Channel instead. He missed Blair. He missed Blair's noise; his constant chatter, his educational TV shows, his aboriginal music. The loft was too quiet with just the two of them there.
The ringing of the phone woke Jim. He came awake with a start, surprised at himself for having fallen asleep. "Ellison," he answered, succinctly.
Hi, Jim. Megan here.
"Oh, hi, Megan. What's up?"
Thought you might like a little relief. Have you been to see Blair yet today?
"As a matter of fact, no, I haven't. I've been a little busy."
I'm ready to leave for the day, Megan said, causing Jim to check the clock: 5:15 p.m. If you'd like, I'll stop by and watch Laurene so you can go spend a little time at the hospital.
"That would be great, Megan. Thanks."
No worries, mate. I'll be there in ten. Bye. With that, a soft click broke the connection.
Jim stood up, Laurene still cradled in his arms, and took her to the changing table to freshen her up. He laid her in her crib and wound up the musical mobile. Turning toward the kitchen, he proceeded to toss together a roast beef sandwich from some leftovers, washing it down with a tall glass of milk--the most nutrition he'd had in two days.
He'd just finished and was putting the dishes in the sink, when there came a knock on the door. "Hey, Megan." He hugged the Aussie Inspector warmly. She had become a very close friend of the family in the past few weeks.
"Hey, yourself. Where's the munchkin?" She walked unerringly across the room to the crib. "Here she is!" she crowed, lifting Laurene and cradling her in her arms. The baby answered with a coo of delight. "What a dolly." She turned to Jim. "Get along with you. Blair's been waiting all day.�
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