Page 62 of Luci’s Lullaby

“Day fourteen of the hostage crisis, and I think I’m losing my mind. No negotiations. My kidnapper has continued to bombard me with soiled diapers and spit up. She’s tough, there’s no end in sight.”

I rub my face, trying to shake off my lack of sleep. “Coffee. Lots of coffee will help.”

Plodding through the house, I try to pick up the mess as I go. It’s beginning to overwhelm me. Everything’s dirty but damn, she’s a full-time gig. I’m in awe of Reese with two little ones.

I peek in Luci’s room, she’s still out. I sigh, “Thank you, God, for the new milk.”

I need to get the hang of cleaning while she’s asleep. When she sleeps, all I want to do is collapse. At some point, I have to reenter the real world. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, I feel like giving up.

Before I can make it to the kitchen, there’s a knock at the door. I trudge over hoping to get there before it wakes Luci. I reach to open it and hear her begin to cry. I just about take the door from its hinges.

“What?”

A woman with a dark dress and dark hair stands in front of me. A notebook in hand and a card stretched before her in the other. “I’m Tina Moffit with the Division of Child Service. We’ve received several complaints about your child crying all night and day.”

“I’m sorry about that, we’re having some feeding issues. Her pediatrician changed her milk, and we’re hoping it helps.”

“She’s crying now.” She leers at me.

“You knocked on the door and woke her up.” Bile rises in my throat, this isn’t good.

“Mister Beck…”

I step back, closing the door a little more. “How do you know my name?”

“As I was saying, it was reported that the child is crying, there are women in and out of here at all hours, and that the home is dirty.” She narrows her eyes, and my hand begins to tremble.

“I’m not sure who called you, but before you come to my home and accuse me of anything, you need to check your facts. I have close friends, prominent people in this community, that are helping me right now. I’m doing my damn well best.”

“It’s obvious that’s not good enough. Future reference—if you’re going to make a child, be sure you can take care of that child.” She starts to turn and pauses. “I can—and will—take that child if I need to, and don’t you dare think I won’t be back.”

I slam the door before she leaves, locking it. “Fuck you, lady.” I trot into Luci’s room, picking her up and cradling her. “Shhh, I gotcha, baby girl.”

Or, at least, I think I do.

I lean in to kiss her and smell something terrible. “Luci, you or I stink. Sad thing is, I’m not sure which one it is.”

Reese brought a bathtub, and I think its time we try it. I take her with me to the bathroom, looking around. There’s no room for it on the counter. I lean down, grabbing the tub. “Let’s do this in the kitchen.”

I drag the tub with us into the kitchen and find the counter is as bad in here. “Ughhh, let’s see if we can do this without dunking you.”

I spin in circles trying to figure something out when my eyes land on something. “I’ve got it.” I hurry back to the bathroom and grab her soap and shampoo. She has hair like her mom.

“Here we go, baby,” I murmur to her as we head back to the kitchen.

I remove the dishes from the sink and start the water. Unwrapping her, I lay the blanket on the counter and her on top. I finally undress her clothes and take her diaper off. “Dude? Can you for once not have green slim in this thing?”

I rip a paper towel off and wet it. I wipe her bottom and toss them. Holding her up, I look her in the eye. “No peeing or pooping until we’re clean. Sound good?”

She squirms and proceeds to pee down her legs. “Good talk.”

I take the sprayer from the sink and start hosing her down. “How do I get up in there?” Her legs are curled up. “The nurses said I have to clean… down here.”

I aim the nozzle but it isn’t going anywhere. I lay her on her dirty blanket and hold a leg. Turning my head, I spray her down. “All good?” I peek back and see her little lip quiver.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.” Picking her up, I squirt soap on her and shampoo her hair. Then I hose her down again.

By the time I’m done, she’s screaming and I’m crying. “Why do you hate me? I’m doing my best.”