Forgive for Joy's Sake (Part 9)

When I finally headed home, I nearly jumped out my skin as I was letting myself in the front door when my cell phone started ringing. I quickly stepped inside and locked the door before answering.

“How did it go with Mel?” My mother didn’t bother with hello.

“There was some strange man there that seemed to be upsetting her. He didn’t even speak to me while in the hospital but waited until I was leaving to approach me and ask who was keeping Joi. He and his question creeped me out.” I threw my purse and keys on the small table I had in the entryway.

“Did you tell him?” She sounded concerned.

“No, Ma, I didn’t tell the possible lunatic that it is my mom who is keeping Mel’s child.” I went into the kitchen and poured myself some lemonade.

“Good. How about you come meet her so she can get use to you before we leave?” I hadn’t gone back to my parents’ house since that ill-fated dinner. I was in no rush to meet my namesake.

“Not tonight, Ma. I just want to relax.” I took my lemonade into the living room and sat in the middle of my couch. It was going to be a binge watch movies kind of night and I was looking forward to it.

“Alright, sweetie. I’ll call you tomorrow after Jackson’s funeral and let you know how it went.”

“What? You’re not even going to try to convince me I should go?” I had been expecting her to try to ever since I told her I wouldn’t be going.

“No, I’ve already asked you for enough.” Her voice was soft and motherly and I immediately thought, She is up to something. We said our good-byes and I spent the evening as planned. 

The next morning around eight o’clock, I was up making myself breakfast when the doorbell rang. I shook my head. There was only one person I knew who would come by without calling at this early of an hour. I walked to the door and checked through the peephole to confirm my suspicion. I opened the door.

“Good morning, Ma,” I said, stepping aside before I realized she wasn’t alone. She stepped through the door holding Joi’s hand who toddled through my door and looked up at me.  Her hazel, close to amber eyes took me aback as I had seen similar eyes yesterday.

“Ma, what are you doing?” I asked as she sat what I assumed was a diaper bag down by my front door.

“Chelsea had a family emergency and isn’t able to watch Joi while we attend Jackson’s funeral. I need you to watch her. I placed her schedule in her bag as well as everything you need to take care of her. She’ll be picked up as soon as we are done at the repass. I have my cell phone so text me if you need me for anything. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

In a blink of an eye, she had let herself out and was gone. I looked down at Joi who, except for her eyes, was truly a baby version of Mel. I fully expected her to burst into tears when she realized Mom had left, but she surprised me by smiling and walking over to me with her arms up. She stole my heart in that moment, and I knew I had a new little bestie. 

“Come on, Joi, let’s see what’s on your schedule for today.” I picked her up and sat her on my left hip, locked the door, and picked up her bag placing it on my right shoulder.  I took her into the living room because I thought it would be the most kid friendly space. 

“ZaZa,” Joi said as I sat her down and started rifling through her bag.  It took me a few minutes, in which Joi became more and more frustrated with me, to figure out ZaZa was the small, stuffed bear in her bag. Well honestly, I can’t say that I figured it out. It was more of a snatch and grab once I pulled it out and then me realizing, as Joi clutched it to her chest and lovingly saying, “ZaZa,” that it became clear.

That little episode pretty much described how our morning went. Me trying to figure out what she was trying to say, or why she was crying and learning that little miss Joi did not like being in a wet or pooped in diaper and if I didn’t immediately tend to her needs, she was going to take matters in her own hands and leave the offensive diaper in the middle of my floor.

I had just fed her and put her down for a nap when my doorbell rang. I raced to the door because I did not want to wake her up. Dealing with a toddler was tiring and I needed a break as much as she did. Looking through the peephole, I cursed.

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