Baby Be Mine

Johnny overdosed. That night when I found out he was in hospital . . . how I scoured the internet for information about him and Dana . . . It seems like a long time ago.
    ‘What’s Da—’ I’m about to ask Lena about Dana when Johnny comes out of the office.
    ‘You wanted to talk to me about the cook?’ Johnny says and I wonder how much of our conversation he heard.
    ‘Yes,’ Lena replies, unfazed. She walks straight past him into the office. I follow with Barney, for want of anything better to do. Lena goes to what used to be my desk and pulls out a chair. Johnny slumps down in the black Eames chair to her left and edges in closer. It’s what he used to do with me, and suddenly, however much I do like Lena, I feel uncomfortable about being here.
    ‘These are the ten that I’ve narrowed it down to,’ I hear her say as I quietly step away from the door. I lead Barney back to the toy box in the living room.
    ‘Meg?’ Johnny calls from the office door a couple of minutes later.
    ‘Yep?’ I call back.
    ‘Can you come here?’
    Barney seems happy enough playing with the brand-new wooden Brio train set that I’ve just unpacked from its box, so I get up and go to the office, feeling curious.
    Johnny is sitting back down in the Eames chair when I arrive at the door. Lena stands up and indicates her – formerly known as my – chair.
    ‘Would you mind having a look at these?’ Lena asks, putting a pile of what I now see are CVs in front of me. I look up at her in surprise, and then glance at Johnny with confusion.
    ‘I want your opinion,’ he says, leaning back in his chair.
    I check Lena’s expression again, but she doesn’t seem put out. ‘I’ll keep an eye on Barney,’ she says lightly, leaving the room. Still a little taken aback, I lean forward and pick up the first CV.
    Out of the corner of my eye I can see Johnny’s foot jigging, but he says nothing, waiting patiently. After a while I relax and concentrate on the job at hand.
    ‘They’ve all got excellent experience, but I would invite these three in for interview,’ I decide at last, patting the small pile of nominated CVs.
    ‘Done.’ He gets up and takes them from the desk, then goes to the door. ‘Lena?’
    ‘Er, don’t you want to know why?’ I stutter after him.
    ‘Nope,’ he replies over his shoulder. Lena re-emerges. ‘These three,’ he says, handing them over.
    ‘Great stuff,’ she replies, giving me a warm smile.
    Does she seriously not mind me stepping on her toes? Maybe she’s worked with Johnny long enough to not give a toss. I know myself that any help with getting him to agree to something is appreciated.
    ‘Meg can sit in on the interviews,’ he says, going to walk out through the door.
    ‘Er, hello?’ I interrupt. He turns around, frowning. ‘Since when did I go back on your payroll?’ I ask indignantly.
    Johnny regards me for a moment, not saying anything, then: ‘Didn’t you get the credit card?’
    ‘Ha!’ I reply, outraged. ‘If those are your terms and conditions, I don’t want it!’
    Lena regards us with wariness, but then Johnny’s face breaks into a smile. ‘I’m joking, Nutmeg. I didn’t think you’d mind doing me a favour. Do you?’ he asks when I don’t immediately reply.
    ‘No, I suppose not,’ I tell him.
    ‘Good.’
    I look at Lena and purse my lips. She starts to laugh and I find myself doing the same.
    Johnny and Barney are nowhere to be seen when I walk out of the office, but I can hear the distant sound of music playing. I follow the sound up the stairs and into Johnny’s studio. Barney is sitting on Johnny’s lap in front of the mixing console, determinedly pressing all the buttons he can reach. I stand at the door and watch them for a moment, smiling. Johnny senses my presence and turns around.
    ‘Do you think he’s going to be like you?’ I ask.
    ‘I hope not.’
    I smirk. ‘I mean, into music.’
    ‘That I could handle,’ Johnny replies looking down at his blond-haired boy. ‘You want to play guitar like your old man?’
    Barney babbles and flips a switch. The base suddenly sounds really loud.
    Johnny chuckles and flips the switch back again.
    ‘Are you alright with him for a little while?’ I ask.
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘I might go and unpack.’
    ‘Sandy can do it, if you want? She’ll be here soon.’ Sandy’s the maid.
    ‘No, no, it’s okay,’ I brush him off. ‘I’d rather do it myself so I know where everything is.’
    ‘Control