This Is Me and You Until We've Got Nothing Left

I made it through work in a small haze. I was dizzy and asked for 3 days off. They happily gave me the week off and congratulated me. Getting home, I took my shoes off and surpassed a passed out Pete and slumped onto my bed. "Mama! Mama!" I heard Lewy call from his bedroom.

"I'm comin', bubba," I said as I made myself get up.

I took off my coat, and then kicked my jeans off; Lewy was sitting up, having cried, "How long have you been in here by yourself?"

Lewy sniffed, rubbing his face. I sighed and checked his diaper; it was soiled, "What the heck has your dad been doin'?"

Lewy didn't answer, he sniffled and let me change him. He hadn't been changed in awhile; he was wet for awhile, "Oh crap, you're going to get a diaper rash. What the hell did Pete do all day?"

Lewy started to cry when I put cream on the forming rash. He hadn't had a diaper rash in a long, long time; we've taken pretty good care of him, he's only gotten an ear infection and that's it. So, I was pissed that Pete was asleep, on the couch, while our son was crying and was sitting in his crib with a soiled diaper.

I cradled Lewy while he whined and cried, minding his bottom, "It's okay baby, I got you. I bet you're hungry, too."

I was ready to kick Pete's ass, but I didn't even bother waking him. I was tired and sick and I had to take care of Lewy. He needed to eat and the poor baby was sore; I would have to go to the store to get him some relieving cream. I heated up some food for Lewy, fed him, gave him a bottle and let him play for a bit. I laid on the floor, moving the coffee table, just to stop my head from spinning.

Pete was still on the couch; if he hadn't of been snoring, you'd think he was dead.

Lewy came over to me, giving me a toy so I'd play with him, "I'm sorry you had a bad day, honey," I sat up slowly; Lewy looked at me with those big doe eyes of his, "Mommy's having a bad day too."

Lewy smiled at me, "Hugs! Hugs!" He said.

I smiled back at him and wrapped my arms around him, "I love you, bubba."

He giggled goofily, and cupped my cheeks up me letting him go. I puckered my lips at him, "What?" I asked.

He gave me a kiss and held my cheeks, looking at me. Lewy just looked so happy to have me there. "Did you miss me?" I asked him, saying each word slowly. He nodded, letting my cheeks go; "I missed you too."

Lewy sat down slowly and began to build something with blocks, talking baby talk to me. I had answered him the best I could, knowing that we weren't having an actual conversation. It felt good just hearing him try, it was a relief, a little, "talking" to him.

After we played for a bit, he went down for a nap, but I put him on my bed; I wouldn't want to be in a crib that I had been in all day. I went back to the living room and shook Pete, who was still sleeping like a goddamn bear. He had stirred and grunted, "Huh?"

"Do you know what time it is?" I questioned him.

He blinked and then shot up, "Oh, shit! It's 3?"

"No, it's 6," I crossed my arms over my chest, "Lewis has a diaper rash, Pete, how long did you leave him in his crib?"

Pete rubbed his eyes, looking up at me, "Did you just get home? Where were you?"

I ground my teeth, "I got home at 3:15," I hissed, "You've been asleep the entire time! What the hell did you take that made you forget you had to watch our son?"

He sighed, "I didn't mean to sleep this long...I took a couple of painkillers to help with this headache I had."

"I bet you did," I sucked my teeth, "Remind me to never leave Lewis alone with you. And, you're going to the store to pick up some soothing cream for his rash."

"Why are you making such a big deal outta this?" He stood, "He ain't dead."

My jaw slacked, I glared at him incredulously, "Pete, he was wet, he was crying and he was hungry! You still haven't told me what time you out him in his crib."

Realization dawned on him, "Oh."

"Oh? That's it? That's all you're gonna say?"

"I didn't know," he muttered quickly, "I just thought I'd shut my eyes for a minute...he was asleep when I went to sleep."

"At what time?"

Pete rubbed his neck, "10 or 11, I don't remember."

I slugged his shoulder, "You asshole!"

He rubbed his arm, "Naomi, I'm sorry--"

"Just shut up and go get the cream," I growled at him.

"I made one mistake and you're gonna be a bitch to me?"

I ignored his comment and went to the room to lay down with Lewy. I was still so tired and sick; I wasn't in the mood to argue. I rested my body beside my baby's and rubbed his back, lulling myself to sleep. It felt like I was asleep for a minute before I was awaken; Lewy was crawling over to snuggle up against me. Sighing contently, my hand threaded through his hair, pulling me back into sleep. Lewy held onto my shirt as he lay there, his cheek resting on my stomach; I knew then that I had to get up.

"How's your bottom?" I asked him as I sat him on my lap.

Lewy shrugged, making me laugh. I checked his diaper and saw he was wet. I got up and went to see if Pete got the diaper rash cream; "Yo, Pete, where's the cream?"

I went out to the living room carrying Lewy. Pete wasn't there, but there was a pharmacy bag on the table. I grabbed it and went to change Lewy; he was happily relieved once the cream was on; "There you go, bubba, feel better?"

He nodded, humming.

"Lets go eat, okay? Maybe we'll go to Grandpa's and have him cook for us."

I carried Lewy to the living room where I called my dad, just before he picked up, Pete strolled in. I frowned deeply; "Hey kiddo, what's up?"

I turned my back to Pete and began to talk to my dad, "Oh, uh, nothing, I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna be home for the week. I'm gonna go to the doctor tomorrow and I was wondering if you'd watch Lewis for me."

"Sure, but what about Pete?"

"He has this band thing to do tomorrow, he's gonna be busy. If you can't, I'll take Lew with me," I lied too easily.

"No, no, it's okay, I'll watch him. Just bring him before 10, I gotta run some errands."

"Alright, thanks dad."

"No problem."

I hung up and looked at my watch; it was 8PM, and I was starving. My stomach had finally settled.

I turned back to Pete, he looked higher than I had ever seen him. I growled, "Where the hell were you?"

He shrugged, "Somewhere."

I watched him plop onto the couch, infuriating me. He was always doing this to me.

"Pete, I want you to leave," I said shortly, "Go to your parents, I can't handle you like this."

He scoffed, "Handle me like what?"

"You're high," I spat, trying to keep my voice leveled, "I want you to go."

"You're a bitch," he mumbled, "You're always bitching at me."

I had no patience to argue. I inhaled and took Lewy to the kitchen with me. I set him in his high chair and began to cook for us. I needed a distraction to keep from yelling at Pete; the idiot always did this, this is a never ending cycle.

I made mac-n-cheese while giving Lewy some baby food and frozen peaches. Pete had come in just as I started to eat on the counter; "Navy, I'm sorry," he exasperated, "Please don't be mad at me."

"Wow, you're way, way out of your mind if you think that lame ass apology was going to be accepted," I muttered.

"I didn't do this on purpose, I really am sorry."

I scoffed, "So, everything else you do is on purpose and you don't actually mean you're sorry?"

"Stop twisting my goddamn words around," he snapped lowly, "I'm sorry I wasn't watching him."

"He could've hurt himself, but you don't care, do you? All you care about is getting high or getting drunk," I spat at him, "You're pathetic."

Pete lost it then; he grabbed my bowl from me and threw it. He got food everywhere, he had scared the living mess out of me and Lewis. Lewis immediately began to cry, while I shoved Pete, "Clean that shit up!"

"You clean it up, since you're all high and mighty talkin' like that to me!"

"You're fucking crazy, Pete," I went to Lewy and gave him his sippy cup to hopefully calm him down. "Clean it up," I told Pete again, "Now or you can leave."

"I'm not gonna leave until you say you're sorry!" He growled back.

"Don't hold your breath."

Lewy calmed down while Pete stood behind me, not moving. Lewy reached out to me, wanting me to pick him up, so I did. He buried his face into my neck, holding onto my shirt tightly. "Aw, baby, it's okay, don't worry about a thing. Mommy's here, mommy'll protect you."

Pete followed in after I had gone into the living room with Lewis; "Me and you need to talk. Now."

"No," I said defiantly, "I'm not talking to you until you clean up that mess."

Pete took Lewy from me, causing him to cry out and set him in his walker. I tried to get to him, but Pete grabbed me, yanking me towards the bedroom. All the while, my son was crying and I was on the verge too, because Pete had grabbed me hard and he was scaring me.

He shoved me into the bedroom, "I said I was sorry!" He snapped, "You need to stop being so fucking stubborn and accept it and move on!"

"You need to get out of my apartment right now, Pete," I warned him, "Get out of my way."

He grabbed me again, "Not until you accept my apology."

Lewy was crying louder, "Fine! I accept your apology, now move!"

Pete stepped aside; I left the room and picked up Lewy from his walker and he stopped crying. He whined and cooed against my chest; I calmed down too, letting the fear go. "It's okay, Lew, daddy was just playing around."

"We still need to talk," Pete's voice made me jump; he was right behind me.

"About what?" I hissed.

"I wanted to talk to you today before you went ape shit on me."

My eyes grew wide, "I went ape shit? Who tossed who's dinner in the kitchen?"

"Look, sit so I can talk."

"Pete, you need to sit down and take a breath because of what you just did," I shook my head, "I'm gonna put Lewy to bed, and I expect you to be getting ready to leave."

"I'm not leaving. Not until we talk."

I sighed and ignored his comment. Lewy kept his face buried in my chest; I sat in the rocking chair with him, kissing his forehead, "Are you alright, bubba?"

He shook his head at me and sniffled. I held him close, "Mommy is very, very sorry. Your daddy has a lot of problems, and I'm sorry that you have to see all of it."

Lewy cooed, I gave him his pacifier and rocked him to sleep. It took awhile, but he eventually fell in a gentle slumber. I got up and carried him to my room, laid him in the middle of the bed and then returned to the living room.

"Please," I began, "I want you to go, Pete."

I looked up at me, "I said I was sorry."

"Your sorries don't mean shit to me anymore, Pete, honestly. I don't care about how sorry you are, I really don't. I don't know what's wrong with you that's making you take all those drugs, but I don't like it," I swallowed, "I'm pregnant, I don't need stress if that's what you're gonna cause me."

"So, what, we're breaking up again? For how long, 6 months?"

I shook my head, "You don't get it. You'll never get it, and we just had this conversation. You and I should not be together, this is what happens."

"You're being over dramatic."

"I'm being over dramatic? You threw my food at the wall because I wouldn't accept your apology! You're the immature and over dramatic one here."

"I was trying to tell you something!" He exclaimed, "I wanted to ask you something!"

"What?" I asked.

"I..." He trailed, causing me to shake my head, "I wanted to ask you to move to LA with me."

"No," I said, "I'm not leaving Chicago. I have friends and family here who help take care of our son. I'm not moving over to the west coast just to be lonely."

Pete shook his head and then dug into his pocket; out came something black. He set it on the counter, "I bought you a car. It's parked on the street."

My jaw slacked at the single car key there, "Why did you do that?"

"Because I fucking wanted to," he answered, "I paid for it outright, it's yours."

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I did. You can't return it. It's a gift for you, Lewis and the new baby."

"Thank you," I mumbled, "I appreciate it, but I didn't ask for it."

"You needed it, so don't even think about feeling guilty," he sighed, "You can sell your old car, save some money for yourself. I'll do everything else."

"I'm not a charity case."

"You're the mother of my children, and I want to do this for you. This ain't charity."

"I really wish I wasn't pregnant. I can't do this anymore," I felt tears coming, "Goddammit, I hate you, Pete."

"I'm helping," he stated, "I wanted to do this."

"You always get what you want," I shoved past him to go to the kitchen.

Pete stood behind me as I began to clean up the food. He sighed deeply, "Naomi, I love you and I'm sorry. I don't want you to be mad at me."

I began to cry, "Just leave me alone, Pete."

"Lemme clean this up for you," he gently pushed me away, "Just sit down."

"Fuck you," I sobbed and pushed him away, "Get out."

"Naomi, just let me--"

"I said get out!" I snapped at him.

Pete stood and then he picked me up, swooping me into his arms. I frowned, "Let me down!"

"Shut up for a minute, okay?" He sat me on the couch, "I love you, Naomi," he kissed me as he knelt in front of me.

"You're such an asshole. I want you to go," I cried.

"After I clean up my mess," he kissed me again and then got up.

I grabbed a couch pillow and began to cry. I sobbed and cried until my head swirled, then I fell asleep.