Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (6 page)

We turned on a few low lights in the house and sat on the lanai to watch for star showers while Richie Havens sang “Here Comes The Sun.” Mom sent a YouTube video when we found out a son was coming. My dad had been the hippie, but Mom had her moments.

We started feeling guilty about leaving the kids, so Jon walked over to get them while I got Meggie’s bath started. The whole family felt calm and content. Jon climbed into bed just as I was putting Chance down.

He gathered me to him and we made love again, quiet and up close. Somewhere in the recesses of his one-month old brain, Chance had enough sense not to complain. We fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Jon got up early for work. He was in the process of changing out light fixtures to save on power bills. They did a few each morning before opening for lunch. I’d picked new models that didn’t require patching and painting. All his restaurants were doing it.

I decided it was time to call Aunt Asp. I hadn’t talked to her since sending a thank you note for the $500 check they’d sent as a baby gift.

Jon had opened her card the day it came and asked, “Does she think we need money?”

They hated each other. He had a Superman-like power to deflect her venom, which annoyed the hell out of her and made her wary. She could still sink her fangs into me, but with his power around I felt more grown up. 2700 miles of ocean had emboldened her.

“Consider us lucky,” I said. “I can’t imagine what she’d buy.”

“Fifty dollars says go buy something, I can’t be bothered,” he said. “Five hundred says you need money.”

“You know she did it just to get to you. We’ll send it back.”

“Let me think about it,” he said.

He came back a few days later with a plan to spend $50 on something for Chance, and give $450 to the animal shelter in Chance’s name, dedicated to feral cat and kitten rescue. For $450 they’d put up a small plaque.

He wrote a note in his crisp food order printing, thanking Asp for the opportunity to teach Chance philanthropy. I bought Chance a fresh snugli in a blue Hawaiian print and Jon took a picture of us on the beach. Then he stopped by the shelter and took a picture of the plaque. Meggie painted her version of a cat, all ears and whiskers towering over a palm tree. I glued it to a card with a thank you note from Chance and all the wild felines, and enclosed the photos with Jon’s note. It was a thoughtful package from the whole family. I hadn’t heard from her since. I thought my brother would choke to death laughing when I told him. He said it sounded exactly like something our father would do. I punched in her number. She must have caller ID.

“Hello, Hannah,” she said. “I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

“We’re just getting back to normal here after the birth. Chance has been sleeping through the night since day one, so that has been nice. We thought Margaret might have a problem with him, but she’s fine now. She’s in preschool most mornings. Jon’s busy with the restaurants.”

I blabbered on to fill the vacuum that always formed when she answered the phone.

“That’s nice,” she said.

“So how are you?”

“Very well. We’re painting and having the patio beds planted to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.”

“I thought it was going to be at a restaurant.”

“Everyone is coming here for drinks first. It will be nice for his family to see where Samantha comes from.”

“She’s not from La Jolla. Why aren’t Ted and Susan doing it?”

“Samantha asked us. We can walk to the restaurant from here.”

“Where is he from?”

“Somewhere out by the State college. You know, where all those little stucco one-bathroom houses run together. His father sells car parts.”

“Oh. Well, parts come in handy.”

“I’m afraid their choice of restaurant is going to give them sticker shock. Have you reconsidered coming since you have an easy child this time?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Well, you need to decide so we have a head count. You’ll need a babysitter.”

“I planned to take the kids to the wedding. I can skip the dinner if that’s a problem.”

“Well, let us know in the next week.”

“Okay. And thanks again for the generous gift.”

“You’re welcome.”

I started to say, “Give my best to Uncle…” but she’d hung up. Bettina used to slam the phone down, drunk and mad. Judith casually disconnects to convey her indifference.

“The one bathroom comment was directed at us,” I said. “What is this obsession everybody has with cleaning toilets?”

Jon was smiling. We had the kids in bed and were settled in the living room.

“She hopes it will give them sticker shock,” he said. “Eric researched them after you talked to Anna. Did you read your email?”

“No. I’ve been chasing Meggie with a pan. She puked all afternoon. What did he find out?”

“He has five used car lots, with parts departments. They’re a gold mine. They live in one of those great old houses in University Heights. He sent the Google street view.”

I climbed in Jon’s lap.

“Gold mine will drive Asp crazy,” I said.

“It won’t be the right gold,” he said.

Jon’s binoculars were on top of his book on constellations, on the edge of the bookshelf. Meggie had a rock design with a ratty gull feather working on the next to bottom shelf. We were getting back to normal.

“You should go,” he said. “We have energy audits for the next month. I’ll do the other islands while you’re gone, meet you back here.”

“How will I know you?”

“I’ll be the tired old guy with a hard on.”

“I’m only going to be gone two weeks.”

“Big hard on then.”

“Like that?”

“Yeah. Probably bigger.”

I was conjuring a lap dance when Meggie started crying, and then broke into her usual borderline hysteria. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” She really takes puking to heart. Her yelling woke up Chance, who was not ready to be awake. Papa hit the ground running for shrieky and I stuck a jug in Chance. So much for spontaneity.

I decided to go to the wedding. It took me ten minutes to find a dress. Meggie took much longer. She got her first pair of patent leather shoes, in hot pink. They were tacky, but she would not be turned aside. I could see years of crying in dressing rooms, by both of us, in our future. She tempered them with a flowered dress that even Jon’s mother would like.

At her end, Mom bought Chance a stretchy romper that I was sure would be more than suitable for their country club where the wedding reception was being held. It was probably cashmere with a club crest. We were ready to roll.            

Jon looked forlorn as we slid through security.

We disembarked in San Diego, one arm short for all the gear. Except for some screaming with unpopped ears on approach, Chance had a quiet flight. Meggie had slept so was skippy happy and ran to Mom and Arthur waiting at the exit gate.

Mother’s eyes swept over my milk stained tee shirt, and what should have been an artfully draped backward scarf that was hanging off one shoulder with blackening fringe dragging on the ground. A diaper bag hung halfway off the other shoulder. I didn’t want to hold up the people behind me while I tried to untangle the gate tag and open the stroller with one hand, so I was carrying Chance and dragging it behind me.

I blew my bangs out of my eyes so I could see my life through her eyes, never a good thing. I should have at least put on lip gloss.

We had hugs all around. They handled getting our bags and kept the kids at the terminal while I went for the car.

We got settled in at Eric and Anna’s, and I was nursing Chance when Eric got home from work. Eric stroked Chance’s head.

“He’s got my eyebrows,” he said. “I want to hold him when you’re done there.”

“You like babies?” I asked.

“He loves them,” said Anna. “Once they’re born and cleaned up.”

“Why didn’t I know that?” I asked.

“You were a teenager when Adam and Grace were born,” she said. “You probably don’t remember.”

“I remember Eric’s head in the planter,” I said.

Eric’s hand shot up to the scar on his forehead. I was a teenager worrying about the fact that no one asked me out, when Eric and Jon were becoming fathers. I got an image of Jon holding baby Chana while Celeste smiled in bed. His former life came home to my stomach in a spasm. Chance stopped suckling and studied my face with Jon’s blue saucer eyes. It was like carrying Jon around. He took a deep uneven breath, sighed, closed his eyes and went back to work.

Adam and Chana arrived together. I followed Chana and her bridesmaid dress bag into the bedroom. I could tell the dress was butt ugly by the time the bag was halfway unzipped. 

“That looks like really bad 80s,” I said. “What color is that?”

“Eggplant,” she said.

“I’d look like a Victorian vampire in those ruffles. Put it on.”

“That means I’ll have to wear it three times in my life,” she said.

“Humor me.”

She stripped down and put the dress on. Meggie came running in to see her sister and stopped short.

“Princess,” she said.

“You’re right, Meggie. CC looks like a princess,” I said.

“A vegetable princess,” said Chana.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You look beautiful. Wow. That is great with your coloring. Wait until your dad sees you.”

She turned to look in the full-length mirror. She still had on flip-flops, her hair was in a ponytail, and her white bra was showing, but she looked beautiful. Unlike Meggie, she hadn’t gotten Jon’s springy blonde hair and sensitive skin. She had her mother’s sun-streaked light brown hair and olive skin.

“What about jewelry?”

“We’re wearing pearls. I’m going to wear Anna’s.”

“This is not what I expected. You really do look beautiful in that.”

Anna came in with Adam looking over her shoulder. It was quiet behind me. I looked in the mirror at them; we were stacked up like an Escher drawing. Anna looked in the mirror at her son’s face behind her. Adam and Chana were smiling at each other. Got it. Anna and I made eye contact. Got it.

“Dinner’s ready,” said Anna.

She hustled Adam out and closed the door. I unzipped the dress and hung it up in the bag while Chana got dressed. She sat down on the bed.

“Does Dad know?”

“Everyone knows,” I said. “Or thinks they do. No one’s been sure until now.”

“What did Dad say?”

“He says it’s a new one.”

“That sounds like him. Is he upset?”

“No. It’s just different. It’s not like you’re related by blood. What matters is what you think.”

“I think if I met him any other way I wouldn’t have tried not to fall in love with him. He feels the same way.”

“It’s not something you can try yourself out of. You’re young.”

“We’re not that young. Anna and Eric fell in love when they were sixteen. They got married when they were our age. Mom and Dad too.”

“Are you talking about getting married?”

“Next year. After I finish my thesis.”

She looked sad. I wrapped my arms around her.

“Don’t be sad, CC. Love is happy. Adam is the nicest guy I know, besides your father of course. Your dad thinks so too. Eric and Anna love you. It’s going to be fine. Everybody is going to be fine with it. Well, except Aunt Asp.”

She started laughing, and then crying.

“Why are you crying?” I asked.

“I’m just so relieved.”

“Oh, CC.”

I hugged her again. Meggie crawled up in her lap and put her arms around her neck. There was a knock at the door and Anna stuck her head in.

“May we come in?”

Anna, Adam, and Eric filed in. Eric was still holding Chance who had, in his infinite wisdom, fallen asleep. Adam got down in front of Chana, took her hands and looked up into her face.

“Let’s go get some dinner,” he said.

He sounded so grown up. I couldn’t remember who I was at twenty-two, I’d left that up to my husband. For some reason, I thought he knew me better than I knew myself. It turned out he just had a book of rules. He also had an ex-girlfriend who he strung along in the background. He didn’t go back to her after we broke up; it was a game. I didn’t even know where he was anymore.

Anna and Eric hugged Chana as they went out the door. We were left looking at each other.

“I need a drink,” said Eric.

We regrouped in the kitchen. Eric popped a cork and poured all around. He hesitated over my glass.

“Are you supposed to drink?” he asked.

“I can have a little,” I said. “It makes my milk richer.”

“That’s beer,” he said, “and it’s bullshit.”

“There is that,” I said. “I better call Jon.”

“Do it on speaker,” said Eric.

“Fat chance. Watch Meggie.”

I took my phone in the bedroom and called Jon.

“Yes,” he said.

“The mystery is solved, Chana and Adam are in love.” I told him how relieved she was to finally come out with it. He thought they were too young. I reminded him that Anna and Eric had been together since they were sixteen.           

“She said you were the same age when you married Celeste.”

“I rest my case,” he said. “Do you think they know what they’re doing?”

“Does anybody?” I asked. “They plan to get married after she finishes her thesis.”

“Have you ever talked to her about birth control?”

“No. Haven’t you?”

“Only sorta.”

“How’s that work?”

“I told her I’d kill any guy who touches her.”

I started laughing.

“That’s hilarious. You said you had it all covered,” I said. “Six years ago.”

“I covered bar rats and guys who lick shoulders. I was hoping to avoid this part.”

“Seriously? Why? You of all people.”

“It’s all over the internet,” he said. “She can chat about it.”

“God, you crack me up,” I said. “I’ll talk to her when she gets home.”

“You okay doing that?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s not your job.”

“It’s somebody’s job. Maybe she talked to Celeste. Or your mom.”