Melt Your Headaches, Call It Work

I collapsed onto my new bed, grinning. I had just spent all day moving into one of the two guest bedrooms in the Ross’s house, and I liked to believe I got the best room out of them.

Located next to Georgie, it overlooked the side of the house, with a spectacular view of the city where I once lived with Spencer. I had a wrote iron balcony with French glass doors that opened up to it and the room was painted a rich green with all white furniture.

“It’s the green room,” Ryan informed me, causing me to jump. I shot up, staring at him with a faint blush. “Keltie, my ex wife, designed it.”

“Oh, I think it’s gorgeous,” I half smiled, feeling slightly awkward at the topic of his ex wife. “Green’s my favorite color.” He did an almost double-take, but quickly covered it up by crossing his arms and leaning back against the doorframe.

“So, tomorrow I have a meeting with my editor, do you think you can take Georgie to her school? She finds out who her teacher is going to be.”

“Yeah, of course,” I nodded, happy to get started.

“Great, thanks.” He yawned once, before ruffling up his hair. “I’m going to head to bed. See you in the morning…”

“G’night!” I called as he shut the door softly, his footsteps faintly echoing through the woodwork.

[&cut]

In the middle of the night, I was awoken by a faint hissing noise. The noise was hushed, but still loud enough to pull me from my slumber.

“Libby!” a small voice whispered, gently shaking me. I grumbled something unintelligent and rolled back over, still sleeping. “Libby, please wake up!”

With a jolt, I woke up, flipping around easily and staring into Georgie’s doe eyes that seemed endless, like black voids. “Georgie?” I groaned groggily, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I had a nightmare,” she whispered, looking around frantically. “And I’m really scared.”

“Aw, honey,” I cooed, scooting over for her. “Come under the covers, okay?” She frantically jumped into the bed, wrapping her thin arms around my waist. “You wanna talk about it? It’ll make it less scary.” I stroked her hair gently with my left hand, my right arm around her shoulders.

“No,” she whispered, curling into me. “I can’t remember it, but it scared me.”

“Ugh, I hate those,” I yawned, pulling the covers up higher. “Okay, now let’s try to go back to--”

“NO!” she cried, sitting back up. “I don’t want to! I’ll have a scary dream again!”

“Okay, okay,” I said quickly, tugging her back down. “You don’t have to sleep. Do you want to watch TV for a bit? Get it off your mind and then try going back to sleep?” After a moments pause, Georgie nodded her head and I leaned over to grab the remote off of the bedside table. I turned on the TV, changing to old reruns of Ace of Cakes.

As the bakers created masterpieces of dough, Georgie chattered on and on, refusing to let me fall back asleep. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, and the more she blabbered on, the more I wanted to crawl up under my covers and sleep until winter.

“Wow! Libby, I wanna shark cake!” Georgie laughed, pointing at the screen. I nodded, my eyes closed as I drifted halfway between consciousness and dreamland. “Libby, don’t sleep!”

“Okay, you’ve had enough TV,” I yawned, turning off the set and pulling her back down to sleep. “You, missy, are going to try and go to sleep, and I promise nothing’s going to hurt you, okay?”

“Alright,” she agreed after a moments pause. Finally, and I mean finally, I was going to get some sleep.

Five minutes later, my blissful sleep was interrupted, once more by a cold hand on my shoulder. “Libby, I can’t sleep!” Georgie whispered, shaking me awake.

Groaning, I opened my eyes and turned on the bedside light, wincing from the pain of my pupils dilating. “Georgie, is there anything your dad usually does to help you go to sleep? Does he sing to you, read you a story, anything?”

“Sometimes Uncle Brennie will, but not always. Daddy’ll just tuck me into bed and maybe play his guitar for me.”

Well, there was no way Ryan would let play his guitar, that is, if I even knew how to play. So I was forced to settle with singing.

“Alright, if I sing you my old lullaby my mom would sing, will you go to sleep?” I asked her, staring her in the eyes. After a second of contemplation, Georgie nodded, settling down in the pillows. “You ready to have your ears boxed from my amazingness?”

“I dunno, Brendon’s voice is really pretty,” Georgie informed me, her doe eyes wide and innocent. I held my tongue, trying not to make a remark against Brendon in spite. Pshw, pretty voice my ass. SHIT! I mean, pretty voice my butt, pardon my French.

“Goodnight, my angel/Time to close your eyes/And save these questions for another day/I think I know what you've been asking me/I think you know what I've been trying to say,” I sang, rocking her gently.

As I continued on with the song my mom used to sing to me every night, a small grin spread across my cheeks. Billy Joel was my dad’s favorite artist, so there was no question as to why each night from the time I was born until I was ten did my mom sing Lullaby(Goodnight My Angel) to me. I was now borrowing the song and using it for Georgie’s lullaby, something I know my mom would find funny.

At the thought of my mom, I stopped singing for a second, but it was long enough for me to forget the next lyric. Trying to remember, I racked my brain, hoping that the line would pop into my mind.

“Why’d you stop?” Georgie mumbled. “I liked it…”

Fed up with my struggling, I skipped the final lines and quickly moved onto humming the melody, still running my hand through her hair. My voice slowly got softer and softer before it died completely, both of us falling asleep.