Chapter Two
Rex Wrecks

Rex was the perfect name for Allison's little monster, Juniper Pearl had decided by nine-thirty the following morning. Although Sam had hastily assured her that they only had to keep him until the Thursday meeting, that was a whole twenty-nine hours and forty-two minutes from now, and she already understood why her friend had gambled the baby.

He howled and threw things and broke things and unlike a puppy of a similar age, wasn't even house-broken yet. At least Micki's pups were almost paper-trained, and they were only three months old. Good grief, it was no wonder poor Allison had come down with post-partum depression. (On top of regular manic-depression, which was bad enough.)

Joon was trying to wipe up the remains of the bowl of tapioca she'd been trying to feed Rex, while he crawled around the kitchen. Apparently, the infant didn't care for tapioca. Still, there was no reason for him to fling it all over Sam's nice clean floor.

Okay, there had to be some way to keep it--him--amused. Think, Joon. Allison hadn't sent any toys--just the diaper bag with basic supplies and a couple changes of clothing.

Fingerpaints, she thought, inspired. That way, we can both do something artistic and it won't matter if he makes a mess.

Two chaotic hours later, Joon had changed her mind. There was fingerpaint everywhere--on her, on Rex, on the floor, the walls, the sofa--almost everywhere except the sheet of paper Rex was supposed to be painting.

As soon as she first dipped one of his baby hands in paint, he'd put the hand in his mouth, and spat the bright green paint out all over himself. She'd grabbed a damp paper towel to wash his face, and as she was doing that, he'd started crawling across the floor, leaving green handprints in his wake.

While she was wiping the handprints, he'd gone back to the paint and tossed the recycled frozen dinner tray across the room--now the kitchen was an abstract scene in red, yellow and green.

Sam was going to have a fit when he saw the now-multi-colored dishtowels. Joon got the paint cleaned up as best she could and tried to rinse the stained towels in the sink. Concentrating on that, she turned her back on Rex just long enough for him to crawl behind her.

When she took a step back, holding the towel up to see how much of the paint had come out, she tripped over him and fell flat on her back. Then she smelled it. Oh, marvelous, another odiferous diaper to deal with! In seconds, they were both sobbing.

"What in the world?" asked a woman's voice, and Joon looked up to see Ruthie, her neighbor and best girlfriend in the whole world. "Joon Pearl, where did you get that baby?" She swooped down and picked up the wailing Rex and tickled him into a sunny smile.

"He likes you!" Joon said, surprised. Her friendly landlady must have heard the commotion and used her key.

"Joon--who does he belong to?"

"My friend Allison. We're entertaining him until Thursday, but what I really wanted was a puppy." She blurted out the whole story as Ruthie expertly changed Rex. "How do you know how to do that, Ruthie? You don't have any babies."

"No, but I had four younger brothers and sisters."

With Ruthie to help, the next few hours didn't go too badly. Although it was noisy, banging on an old pot with a wooden spoon kept Rex happy for quite a while. Her friend was able to offer Joon advice about what would--and wouldn't--be a good idea to feed the infant, and gave her some tips on the best ways to take care of diapers and bath time.

At three o'clock, Ruthie had to go get ready for the dinner shift at the diner, but by then, Joon felt much more confident. After all, Sam would be coming home in a little over an hour, and Rex was napping, actually asleep and quiet and not moving. He'd fallen asleep on the area rug, hugging one of Joon's bunny slippers. Sam still had the infant seat strapped into his car, so she couldn't tuck Rex into that, but he seemed to be okay where he was.

Finally, she had some time to herself! Joon sat down in her favorite chair and began applying white glue and purple glitter to an old coffee can she'd painted pink. When the glitter dried, she had some lovely silver sequins to add to the project...a crash and shrill shreiking interrupted her as she planned sequin placement.

Rex was awake, and in her preoccupation with her work of art, she hadn't noticed him crawling toward the ironing board. Now, the iron lay on the kitchen floor, and the baby was red-faced and screaming.

Joon felt a wave of panic wash over her. The tv tray toppled over as she ran into the kitchen to see if the iron had actually struck him or just scared him. "Just scared him," she decided with relief a moment later, holding the squirming baby, who began to calm down as she hugged him. "That scared me, too," she said to him. "I'd be in so much trouble if anything happened to you."

Rex had his fist in his mouth again, and was looking back at her. His soft, curly hair was the color of corn silk and his eyes were big and blue. He was rather charming, now that he wasn't emitting an appalling amount of noise, soiling himself, or otherwise making a mess. In fact, the only mess in sight at the moment was the one Joon herself had made charging to the rescue.

Well, she knew better than to put him down to try to clean it up. Shifting him around experimentally, she discovered what women have known for ages--the ability to single-handedly do a task with a baby perched on one hip.

When Sam came in and looked at her anxiously, Joon smiled. The apartment was almost as clean as when he'd left that morning--and he was better at domestic stuff, anyway. The important thing was, little Rex was okay, Sam was home, and there were only twenty-one hours and sixteen minutes to go before Allison again took charge of her baby.