... and Baby Makes Two (36 page)

Read ... and Baby Makes Two Online

Authors: Judy Sheehan

“No, not that. I told you. I'm fine with holding her.”

“What can't you stand?”

Beth stirred, so Ray had to drop his voice back down to a whisper.

“Me. I mean, what's going on here? Who am I? I'm a gym rat, then I'm a spiritual guy. And then I'm a workaholic. And even that— I'm a theater critic, then I'm a movie critic. What am I going to be when I grow up?”

He frowned, but Jane smiled. She was not worried about Ray. Not really.

“You
are
grown up, silly. Who else could be strong enough to hold her, patient enough to cope with me, and make enough money
to come with me to China? And you even know show tunes, so you can sing to Beth and keep us both happy. And whatever comes next, well, I'm sure you can use that too.”

Ray had to think about that one for a while. Jane saw his forehead ease. He even smiled a bit. She got it. Maybe he did too.

…

They arrived at JFK late at night. The air was beautiful, if only because it was invisible. Jane gulped it and wanted to kiss the tarmac. She carried her daughter on her hip as they moved through the airport.

“Welcome home, Chinamoms!” Barbara and Rachel formed a tired little welcome wagon. Barbara handed each mom a list (!) entitled, Making the Adjustment to Home.

“You need fresh air and sunshine to help the girls get used to the time change.” Jane heard vague plans for a playdate the next day at Teresa's. But she stopped listening when she saw him.

She thought that she may have seen him before he saw her. Peter. He was separate from the crowd of mothers, standing by the door, blocking it. She thought he looked perfect—the way all the features fell into place, forming Peter's face exactly. Still tousled and hazel and warm. Her heart leapt into her mouth. She couldn't speak. It would have taken seconds to run to him there. But then she remembered: This was over. This had to be over. She felt like an addict meeting a mountain of cocaine. She didn't dare go near him. Danger. She looked for a way to dodge him, but then he saw her.

“Jane!” he shouted. And everyone heard him. Beth, the Chinamoms, everyone in JFK. Why was this man smiling? Didn't he know that they were broken up? What was he doing here?

He was walking toward her. Jane wanted to stop this scary movie. But her feet were locked in six inches of cement. Her mouth was wired shut. Her eyes were taped open.

“Is this Beth?” Was he actually speaking to her? “She's so beautiful.”

“No. Sorry, Peter. But, no.”

“Just let me explain—”

“Don't. Just go away.”

And before Jane knew what was happening, the entire fleet of Chinamoms, travel companions, little children, and Ray had formed a circle around her.

“You heard her,” Ray said. “Go.”

“But, please!” was as much as Peter got to say. Jane and Beth were now the Beatles, and their entourage sped them along to where the Chinamoms each had a car waiting. Their farewells were quick. They would be together again, and soon. Jane looked back. There was no sign of Peter. She looked in front of her and saw the neon yellow glow of Celeste's hair as she shouted, “Welcome home, darling! Welcome home!”

Celeste covered Beth with kisses before buckling the child into the five-point harness of the car seat. It looked complicated. Jane was too tired to tell the story of her trip to China, and Celeste understood. “Relax, Little Mama. I get you home soon.” Jane and Ray collapsed on either side of Beth and her car seat.

The lights on the Long Island Expressway felt like Christmas.

Chapter Eighteen

In her old life, Jane always looked forward to the first few days home from a trip. She would rediscover the world she had left behind and find the comfort of her version of normal. That couldn't happen this time. Her new life was unrecognizable.

Ray planned to stay with her that first night. She was going to need a slow weaning from his assistance. He had to make two trips up the stairs to pull all their luggage into the apartment. Jane carried Beth, who clung to her tightly. Stairs? What are stairs?

Inside the apartment, Jane said, “Welcome home, love. We're going to bed in a little while. Tomorrow we have a playdate at Auntie Teresa's.”

And with that, she set Beth to crawling around the apartment. The price for Beth's good sleep on the plane was her alertness here at home. She couldn't be reasoned with. She was staying awake. She liked her room but was unimpressed with the stenciling. Ray supplied a few oohs of appreciation.

By
3 A.M.,
the baby showed signs of fatigue, while the adults showed signs of nervous collapse. They offered some familiar sights and sounds:
Goodnight Moon
and the Tibetan children chanting. Jane held her and
rocked her until she could do the slo-mo, one-degree-per-minute descent into the crib. Her shoulders were burning with pain. Her arms were starting to shake. But it was all worth it. Beth slipped into her crib and
slept.

“Good job, Mommy. Now, let's both of us get some sleep,” Ray whispered.

“Oh, I thought I'd unpack a little bit and—”

“Sleep. Trust me.”

…

The next day, Jane heeded Barbara's advice and dragged her tired little family to a playdate. Beth, Ariel, and Grace got to hang out together while their mothers said things like, “This baby is kicking my ass.”

“Tell me again why we did this?” Teresa asked. The three mothers and their daughters were in Teresa's living room. Ray scrambled around the room, trying to keep the babies away from all the glass.

“We had too much time, too much sleep, too much money. Take your pick,” Jane answered.

“You know what I figured out in China?” Karen ventured. “Besides the fact that I choose toxic men? Babies are a little bit—can I say this?—boring. It's so relentless.”

“I know! It's all that repetition,” Teresa agreed. “It wears you down. I mean, it's not like they're great conversationalists. Yet.”

“It's the sleep deprivation. Beth wakes up, oh, three or four times a night. I jump out of bed and I rock her, and she goes back to sleep, but oh, God. It takes me forever to fall back asleep. And then she's up again.”

Ray called over, “This is how they torture political prisoners, you know. They make them crazy from lack of sleep.”

Karen took the confession session a step forward.

“I can't believe I'm going to say this out loud. I'm half looking forward to going back to work. That sounds awful, doesn't it?”

“Yes, it does, and that's why you must only say it within the con-
fines of my home and this playdate. I understand completely,” Teresa answered. “The hardest job on earth is easy compared to this. I've been working since I was seventeen, which was a long time ago, and it was all tea and scones compared to motherhood. I want to wear a nice watch again.”

“So,” said Karen. “Peter? Have you heard from him today? I thought that was pretty bold—showing up at the airport like that.”

“That was a gesture. So that he can look good when he tells the story later. He wanted a sort of ‘last word' I think. I won't hear from him again. I'd bet her college fund on it. That reminds me. I need to start her college fund. Anyway, it's over. I'm sure of that. I think.”

Ray agreed. “Good. You don't want to have to get over this guy twice, do you?”

Karen agreed. “Break the cycle!”

Teresa agreed. “Be strong. For yourself and for your daughter.”

Beth said, “Abrrrrr! Agah!”

Jane and her friends revisited the What Every Single Mother Needs list. They still endorsed every entry on the original list, but they expanded it just a bit:

  1. T
    HE
    P
    ERFECT
    A
    PARTMENT.
    A
    T LAST, THEY DEFINED THIS FANTASY.
    T
    HIS NOW CONSISTED OF: THREE BEDROOMS (THE EXTRA ONE WOULD BECOME A PLAYROOM OR A GUEST ROOM OR A MAID'S ROOM—EACH WOMAN HAD A DIFFERENT USE FOR IT), DOORMAN, ELEVATOR, LOTS OF SUN, TOO MANY CLOSETS, GOOD SCHOOLS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE, GOOD PARKS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE, WASHER/DRYER/DISHWASHER/NEW EVERYTHING, NO SHARP CORNERS ANYWHERE, AND HEAVILY SOUNDPROOFED WALLS AND SELF-CLEANING FLOORS.
    A
    T THIS, THE DEFINITION OF
    P
    ERFECT WAS COMPLETE AND IMPOSSIBLE.

  2. L
    OTS OF POCKETS.

  3. A
    STRONG IMMUNE SYSTEM, AND A THICK SKIN.

  4. A
    VERY LIGHT AND SMALL VIDEO CAMERA.

  5. M
    EMBERSHIP AT THE ZOO.

  6. A
    CHEAP HAIRSTYLIST WHO WILL TAKE LAST-MINUTE APPOINTMENTS AND STILL MAKE YOU FEEL GORGEOUS.

  7. A
    MASSAGE THERAPIST WHO WILL TAKE LAST-MINUTE APPOINTMENTS AND STILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER.

  8. A
    T LEAST TWO BACK-UP BABYSITTERS (ALTHOUGH NONE OF THEM HAD USED ANY BABYSITTERS JUST YET—THE THOUGHT OF LEAVING THE BABY ANYWHERE WITH ANYONE WAS ACTUALLY SHOCKING).

  9. T
    I
    V
    O.

  10. An enormous sense of humor.

The best part about being so busy and tired today was: no time to moon over lost Peter. Peter who was gone and should stay gone. Peter whom she sent packing. Peter. Nope. Not thinking about him at all. And when the phone rang, she was absolutely not secretly hoping that it was Peter.

“Janie? It's me. It's your old dad.”

There was entirely too much to say to this man. Curses and blessings. In truth, she was surprised he called at all. She expected him to behave as Betty would have, stubborn to the end. Betty could hold a grudge. She could nurse it and keep it alive. And that was part of what killed her.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Look. I said a few things when you were leaving, and I know you didn't like to hear them.”

“You were wrong. You were way out of line, Dad.”

“I had to listen to my conscience. I had to. I hope you understand that.”

“Not really.”

“But this little girl is now a member of our family, and I want to welcome her and give my blessing, if you'll let me.”

How did he manage that? He had changed. And that was so not-Irish. Jane was wrestling with her squirmy daughter while she squeezed the phone between her ear and shoulder.

“She's a great little girl, Dad. I love her so much.”

They talked about the trip to China. Jane whitewashed it a whole lot, and Howard sounded relieved that Jane accepted his olive branch. Jane was relieved that he offered it. It was late, and he was saying his good-byes and best wishes.

“But, Dad. You haven't even asked her name yet.”

“You're right, I haven't. What is it?”

“Elizabeth. Beth. I call her Beth.”

His voice held steady, almost.

“That's lovely.”

…

Was this the longest day in history? Did the sun stop in the middle of the sky? And didn't Jane see that in an old movie? How was she supposed to survive the first day home if it was going to last
327
hours? That was grossly unfair. She would just have to coax Beth into a nap. Beth seemed to think that this was a deeply flawed plan. No, no, no, no,
zzzzzzzzz.
Beth napped.

As soon as Beth was asleep, Jane raced to the phone. She couldn't wait to tell Sheila about their father's change of heart. She picked up the phone and reenacted the entire conversation. Sheila was quiet and happy.

“Sheila, you have to come to New York and meet her. She's amazing. She's beautiful. She knows how to hail a taxi. She puts her arm up and every cab in town stops for us.”

“I'll come soon. I will. But I have to wait just a while. I don't feel well enough to fly right now”

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing's the matter. I'm pregnant. It's okay to tell you now”

“Oh, Sheila!”

Jane tried to stay on the phone and get every detail about the pregnancy, but there was urgent loud noise coming from downstairs, and it woke Beth, who responded with genteel screeching. This developed into full-blown bellowing, and Jane was right by her side.

“Beth? What's the matter? It's just a big noisy noise. You don't need to be scared.”

Beth didn't look like she was buying that. She looked very upset about the noisy noise.

“Let's go investigate. You'll see.”

She parked Beth on her hip, and this seemed to be pretty comforting already. Jane and Beth headed downstairs, and Jane said, “See? It's movers. Someone is moving in. They're our neighbors. Can you say neighbors? Can you say mama? Can you say anything? No? That's okay.”

The movers dropped something very thuddy and Beth started creeping toward another big cry. Jane sat down on the stairs and began to sing new words to Brahms's lullaby.

“Lullaby and good night, I love you, my Be-eth. That was just a big noise, and you do-on't need to cry. It's okay You are safe, and we're going upstairs now. I love you. Yes, I do. I love you, my Beth.”

And that's when she saw Peter. Right in the hall of her building. How did he get in? Didn't she get his keys back? She could have sworn she did. Damn. She flinched enough to scare Beth a little. How did he get in? Jane was tired, remember. She was slow at putting things together.

“You do sing to her. I knew you would.”

He stooped to Beth's eye level. “Hello, Beth.” She reached out and grabbed his thumb. “Strong grip! You're a strong girl, aren't you?”

He looked dangerously good. Jane wanted to run, but Beth held on to Peter's thumb. Jane reached down to pry them apart, but that required touching Peter's hand. A staggering task, but she did it.

And then, oh, God, he tried to hold on to her hand. She made sure he failed.

“What?” Jane's voice was shrill. “You saw her, you saw me, and you saw that we're fine. We're more than fine. We're goddamn
happy. How do you like that? I'm doing this without you, and did I mention that we're as fine as we can be?”

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