Secrets

2

I woke up on the couch to Gregorie humming a popular tune as he exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

            “Morning,” he said as he went into our room to get ready for work. I grunted in response and got up to pee and brush my teeth. Then I set to work, making the coffee and Gregorie’s lunch. He didn’t like to leave the law firm during his lunch break. ‘In case of emergencies,’ he’d say, but he never elaborated on just what kind emergencies could come up for an intern at a law firm. I fried the bacon while I waited for him to emerge from the bedroom. I heard him before I saw him.

“Jason,” he said. He entered in the kitchen, tying his tie. It was the scallop printed monochromatic silk tie I got him for his birthday.

“Hmm? What’s up,” I asked, looking up from the pan of sizzling bacon.

“Did you get my prescription filled yesterday? I don’t have any more meds. I can’t be unstable today. I’ve got to work all day; maybe until seven tonight. I can’t risk losing this job because I can’t control my emotions. What am I going to do,” Gregorie ranted.

“I picked them up two days ago. They’re on the dining room table. Aside from that, did you sleep well? Want some coffee? Breakfast,” I said, trying to distract him from his almost meltdown. When he went off on anxious rants, it was difficult to mellow him out.

“Yes to the breakfast; no to the coffee,” Gregorie answered as he walked over to the table to find the white paper bag that held his medication. He has bipolar disorder and things can go horribly, really fast. “Employee Picture Day is coming up and I don’t have time for another teeth cleaning appointment. Anyway, that woman next door and her kid interrupted my rest. So no, I didn’t sleep well, either. I thought you said you’d talk to her.” Gregorie raised an eyebrow in my direction as he poured himself a glass of milk. I started scrambling the eggs next.

“I did, actually. I went over this morning. Leila and I had a nice little chat about noise and being considerate. We also talked about her daughter, Iris. She’s been really neglectful lately.” Gregorie looked sympathetic at the mention of Iris.

“I don’t know why she can’t just keep her legs closed. If she did, the poor child wouldn’t have to go through that type of abuse. Up all kinds of night, crying for her mother’s attention, only to get no one and nothing.”

My jaw clinched as I flipped some of the eggs onto his bagel and placed two slices of bacon on the side before handing him the plate. Then I finished packing his lunch, left over pasta from the night before.

“You’re not eating,” he asked. I shook my head.

“I’ll eat later,” I said, with a small smile.

“Jase,” Gregorie hesitated. “Do you think we’ll ever have children? I’d love to have a daughter.”

“Maybe,” I said, looking at the far wall. I wish I could tell him that we do have a daughter and that she lives next door. That damn television set was on again. But this time, it sounded like a children’s show. I looked at the stove clock. It was blinking; 4:32. I’ll have to fix it later. But now I have to get Gregorie out of the house. “Hey, you should probably head out if you’re going to get to work on time. Be careful; it stormed pretty hard last night,” I said.

“ Oh yea. Love you,” Gregorie said before kissing my forehead. “See you later tonight. The firm closed a lot of cases this past week and Lisa will probably make one of us do it.” Gregorie then grabbed his satchel, lunchbox, phone and keys before heading out the door.

I turned off the stove and went to get ready for the day. I took a short shower, got dressed and headed next door to pick up Iris. The smell of burnt toast filled my nostrils as I entered Apartment 21D.

“Finally, you’re here. I’m going to be late,” Leila said as she stalked from the bedroom in a business suit. She could pass for a lawyer.

“Have you fed her within the past hour? Changed her?”

“Yes. No.”

“Alright. Is the bag at least ready?” She gave me an exasperated look, as if to say ‘Do I have to think of everything.’ I nodded and walked to Iris’s room and began to pack diapers and wipes and a change of clothes. By the time I was done in the baby’s bedroom, Leila was gone. I went into the kitchen and put a few bottles and a baggie of formula into the bag.

“Iris. You ready to hang out with Daddy today?” I walked over to my daughter and picked her up out of the crib contraption in the living room. She hiccupped and spit up a little greyish creamy liquid. I grabbed a wipe from the changing table portion of the crib and wiped her face and clothing the best I could before we turned off the television and walking back over to my apartment.